#even if they aren't entirely correct

[morganski-19]

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 25

ao3 link| part 1 . . . Part 22, part 23, prev part

Before Wayne can even make it through the hospital doors, someone is whisper screaming his name. He turns to see Steve waving over to him. Calling him around the corner of the hospital. Where Jim and that Wheeler girl are standing. Looking serious as hell.

“Don’t be mad,” Steve starts, making Wayne nervous, “but I told them about the problem with Eddie’s bills not getting covered.”

Wayne crosses his arms. Giving him a chance to explain himself. “Alright.”

“It’s just. I called the contact that I’ve been talking to about all this, and that got me nowhere.”

Nancy rolls her eyes. “Because you screamed at them for ten minutes and then hung up expecting them to do something about it.”

“I was very persuasive,” Steve defends.

“Hit them with your charm, did you?” she asks, annoyed.

“Jesus Christ,” Hopper groans. “Point is. Steve called me in because I’ve dealt with them before and should be able to get them to hand over the funds for Eddie’s treatment. All of Eddie’s treatment. The surgeries, the physical therapy, the checkups for at least a year. Everything.”

Wayne’s taken aback. When Steve said that the government should be covering the expenses, he thought that was an exaggeration. That they would really just throw a couple hundred dollars at him and call it a day. Give some shitty consolation for the damage the town did to his kid.

Because if this were really just an earthquake, there would be nothing to payout. Maybe a little for the false charges and the man hunt. Possibly a little to give Wayne a steppingstone, along with the rest of the people who were severely injured or lost a home, as a nice gesture. All of it though, that seemed impossible.

“Why would they do that?” Wayne finds himself asking. Ripe with disbelief.

Steve scoffs with all the annoyance in the world. Not at Wayne, at whoever he’s been screaming at over the phone. “Cause it’s their fucking fault we’re in this mess to begin with.”

“Steve,” Hopper warns. Nancy doing the same with her hardened stare.

“What,” Steve almost snaps. “He deserves to know after all he’s been through.”

“I get that,” Nancy’s voice, full of the same sympathy she showed him that day in the trailer park, cuts through. “But we signed away our right to.”

Wayne’s starting to realize that all of this is so many layers deeper than he originally thought. He already knew that the bullshit excuses the nurses gave him when he first arrived at the hospital couldn’t be true. There was a difference between getting hurt by falling rubble and getting skin torn apart by animals. And Eddie’s scars were too similar to bites to be hidden by shotty excuses.

Their argument gets hushed to whispers. Steve getting more annoyed at the second. Continuing to gesture to Wayne, or inside the building, as he continues to make his case. Poorly, Wayne assumes. With the way that Jim and Nancy keep aggravating him. Making point after point on how Wayne can’t know the real reason his son his hurt. Suffering in his hospital bed.

May continue to suffer the rest of his life.

“Could you all just cut the shit and tell me somethin’, anythin’.” They all look at Wayne, startled that he’s raised his voice beyond the acceptable volume. Getting on the verge of bringing excess attention.

Their mouths start to open, probably filled to the brim with excuses Wayne’s too tired to hear. Ones that already fill his mind. Keeping him in the shielded innocent that hurts more than the actual truth would.

“I don’t care for the excuses, so don’t even try. I just want to know why my son almost died. Why I found that girl mangled like that in my home. Those aren’t images that just go away, I’d like to know why they were there in the first place.”

Nancy and Steve make eye contact, looking like they’ve come to an agreement. She opens her mouth, starting to talk when Jim cuts them all off.

Jim, who understands Wayne’s pain more than either of them do. Who looks hardened like a veteran, tired of all this damn fighting. Wanting to live a life filled with peace, but having a soul that can’t let him. Someone who’s fought more battles than people know and isn’t given credit for it.

He’s been kind to Wayne, while keeping the real truth in reserves. Either out of pity, or out of protection. Maybe that’s what he’s doing now. Or maybe he’s finally stopped caring about dried ink, and instead about the people it’s stained.

“It started with the lab,” he says in a hushed whisper.

“Hop, you don’t have to,” Steve cuts in. “You’ve already done enough.”

Jim shakes his head. “You kids don’t need them hunting you down for this. They’re already pissed at me, what’s one more thing?”

What shit did Eddie get himself into this time?

After a deep breath, Jim continues. “The Hawkins Lab wasn’t a normal lab. You know they caused that gas break a few years ago that caused a few people to die. And the news said they shut down, but they didn’t. In secret, they continued to do their experiments, expanded them onto animals, and even as far as people. One escaped along with some animals and started killing people. That’s what happened over spring break.”

It sounds so surreal that Wayne’s debating the validity of these statements. Whether they’re real truth or carefully spun lies. So close to the real thing to be believed, but not close enough to be entirely correct.

But he wanted to know. He wanted to believe that this was true. That the answers were finally given to him.

“What about Victor Creel?” Wayne was so sure that was the answer. Was so sure that the crimes were identical.

“It was his son,” Nancy interrupts before Jim can keep talking. She looks at Hopper, tired and determined. “You’re not the only one going down for this. I was the one who exposed them in the first place.”

“Some of the animals got lose near Eddie,” Steve adds to the story. Filling in the pieces that Jim wouldn’t know. “He was looking after Dustin while Nancy, Robin, and I were going after Creel. He got Dustin to safety, getting the animals to follow him so they didn’t come after us.”

Wayne has the intense need to sit down. Feeling like his feet have been knocked out from underneath him. His world rocked on its axis, almost turned upside down. The truth much worse than anything he could have imagined.

He can almost feel the sensation of teeth ripping through flesh. The pain Eddie must have don through, just to protect his friends. To make a sacrifice that no one asked him to.

Everything he’s heard through clipped sentences and brief explanations finally make sense. The picture coming into focus in his head. The pain crashing over him all at once.

And he’s angry. Angry at the recklessness of his nephew. At the lab for starting all this shit to begin with. At the people who left him behind and couldn’t stop him. Because he knew that Eddie would run into the face of danger a million times to protect the people he loves. Anyone with a shred of knowledge about him would.

The thing he’s angry about the most though, is how damn proud he is of this kid. It’s the one emotion that comes to the forefront in all of this. He’s never been prouder of Eddie in his life.

Wayne raised Eddie to be more than himself. To think and care for others the way his father didn’t. He’s proud that Eddie protected these kids. Angry that he did it in a way that almost killed him. Feeling like it was his own fault that he raised Eddie to be so reckless with his own life.

But he looks at the people in front of him. Sees the guilt imbedded in Steve’s eyes, and the regret in Nancy’s face. The sorrow that Jim shares. Remembers the way that Dustin sat at Eddie’s bedside for days on end, thinking that he was the cause of it all. When really, it was the most Eddie thing that Eddie could have done.

next part

tag list (capping at 100, only 4 spots left): @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,

@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,

@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,

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@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores

[fromtheseventhhell]

Very funny to me how Stansas present her character as being so interesting and complex because of her vulnerabilities, while simultaneously ignoring those same vulnerabilities in other characters. Dany is sold as a bridal slave and lacks agency throughout AGOT and after. Her dragons are either too young/small to utilize effectively or locked away for the majority of the story. They aren't some all-powerful trump card that protects her from harm. Arya is captured as a prisoner of war, forced to watch countless people tortured and murdered, and then essentially enslaved in Harrenhal with no way to fight back. She has an entire arc of feeling powerless, of being a "mouse", during ACOK. She doesn't have "kung-fu" or the ability to magically fight her way out of every situation, she's a young child lacking physical strength with only the most basic sword training.

Sansa isn't the only female character, she isn't the only young character, she isn't the only character who suffered, and no one is obligated to prioritize her. I'm so tired of Dany and Arya being mischaracterized and having their stories erased to prop Sansa up. "Sansa has kept her dignity" In other words, let's praise her for having a level of security that Dany and Arya don't have access to. She hasn't ever been forced to make a hard decision which of course means that she's morally superior to them. They can't even admit to themselves that her lack of action is due to her own passivity. If it doesn't fit their delusion, they erase it from the story and expect the rest of us to play along. Ask one of them what they like about her character without bringing up her being the ultimate victim, and I genuinely don't believe they'd be able to give you an answer. They belittle other characters more than they talk about her and these takes just scream insecurity/jealousy at the content and development other characters have in their POVs.

[canisalbus]

I just recently started following you so i don't have the full lore of your murderous gay religiously traumatized doggos, BUT, from my understanding, they are Italian and i don't know what part of Italy they are from, yet i can't help headcanoning Vasco as Tuscan, while Machete is probably from some part of Veneto. And as an Italian who has heard Tuscans and Veneto dialet, well it's an hilarious mental image.

Vasco is indeed Tuscan, Florentine to be specific. He comes from a wealthy and influential noble family that has lived in Florence for centuries. He's proud of his roots, and it's usually easy for strangers to tell where he's from. He's a resonably successful politician and has worked as an ambassador and representative of Florence on numerous occasions.

Machete is originally Sicilian (ironically about as far from Veneto as possible), although he was taken to mainland at young age and has lived in several places since then, before ending up in Rome. The way I see it, he exhibits very little local color, his demeanor and (even though Italian hadn't become a standardized language yet) way of speaking are formal, neutral and scarcely give away any hints about his personal history, at least in the 16th century canon.

[theartisticcrow]

🌻 :)

Alright, I saw this ask last night, but decided I'd save it for the next day when I was feeling actually awake. Well, now I've got a Queen record playing so i might as well talk about the French Revolution, particularly Maximilien Robespierre. Now you might be thinking, "Robespierre? The bloodthirsty tyrant that guillotined half a France? What about him?" Well I am here to tell you that he wasn't actually a tyrant or a dictator, despite what your high school teacher might have told to the entire class. If you don't know who Robespierre was, without accidentally writing a short biography of his entire life and career (again), he was lawyer from Arras, France, most well known for his involvement in the French Revolution and the Reign of Terror. I will get to that [his involvement in these events] in a moment, but firstly, what was the Reign of Terror? Hell, what was the French Revolution? I'm sure you know, it's a very famous events after all, but I shall explain as though you do not for anyone who may come across this post and not know exactly what I'm talking about.

Alright, so the French Revolution began in France in 1789. The country is drowning in debt after the American Revolution, people are starving because of a poor harvest season and prices of bread are rising, and it's just not a great time. The country was in crisis and something needed to be done. The Third Estate (social class involving anyone who is not nobility or a member of the clergy) demanded change and the other Estates actually sort of agreed that "yeah, country's fucked". Thus the king called upon the Estates-General, a sort of meeting of the three Estates (First Estate: Clergy. Second Estate: Nobility. Third Estate: literally everybody else, they make up 97% of the population). This was a pretty big thing because the Estates-General hadn't been called upon in a very long time (I think it was roughly 175 years?). Anyways, the point of the Estates general was basically, correct me if I'm wrong, to fix things in the kingdom when everything had gone to shit. Each Estate was represented by one singular vote. This was sort of a problem, you see, because the minority of the population, the First and Second Estate, had collectively two votes while the Third Estate, the majority of the population, only had one. Do you see where this is going? Anything that the majority of the population wanted could be very easily outvoted and it was incredibly unfair, obviously. After a while, after various disagreements and things just not really going according to plan, the Third Estate decided "Fuck this, I'm not doing this anymore", and they went off and formed something called the National Assembly. The National Assembly was to represent all members of the population though in particular the Third Estate. Literally 3 days after forming this Assembly, the King, Louis XVI, locked them out of their own building so that they wouldn't be able to meet there anymore. This sort of backfired on the King because they just went down to the nearby tennis court and sort of signed something called the Tennis Court Oath, which basically was them saying, "Well fuck you, we are never going to stop meeting".

(I've had to go back through my 30 page essay to find the correct dates and timeline but anyways). Without getting too deep into the politics and technicalities of the time, let me just walk you through the major events of the Revolution that would eventually lead up to the Reign of Terror. (At this very moment I've only now just clicked back on to that document so I can look through it and oh my God I forgot how small the fucking font is. This is going to take me a few minutes.)

OKAY, Third Estate wants lower taxes (taxes are partially result of the country's debt and the country's debt is because of their funding of the American Revolution and a really flawed taxing and banking system); Estates general is called, all three Estates bring up collectively 60,000 grievances; the Estates general doesn't go so well because of unfair voting; fueled by the ideas of the Age of Enlightenment, the Third Estate goes off and forms their own little kind of government, that being the National Assembly; the National Assembly would represent the entire country; only a few days after forming, the King would lock him out of their own building; Tennis Court Oath happens, Robespierre is among those in the National Assembly and he is one of the people that signed the Tennis Court Oath. Alright, by this point Louis XVI is getting a bit nervous, understandably. The King begins organising troops near Paris and, understandably, people begin to panic. In this panic, (that along with the King firing or dismissing Jacques Necker), people begin to riot a bit, and thus is how came about the storming of the Bastille. The storming of the Bastille was a massive turning point in the Revolution, not only because it was an incredible display of the people getting together and successful storming this prison which represented mass political power, but even the army, who was likely called to 'disperse' the crowd, fought on their side and helped them take the Bastille. A couple decapitated heads later and the Revolution is imminent. It has begun.

Since this is getting long: March on Versailles happens, the King and Queen are overthrown and later executed, lots of stuff happens but it would take me another eleven days to write about. Reign of Terror begins (a fuck ton of mass executions).

Now, back to the topic of MAXIMILIEN ROBESPIERRE, my god is this ever getting long. Right, he wasn't a dictator. Lots of people think that he was a dictator but that is a truth this is based on Thermidorian Propaganda and basically no truth... What if I just... screenshoted or copied that essay... Like the actual essay part of the essay. Hold on... OKAY, HERE'S THE ESSAY ITSELF THAT I WROTE. HAVE FUN READING ALL THIS:

And that's pretty much it. The rest of the essay was fucking background context that turned into a biography of Robespierre's life and career. Important things that I want to say here: Robespierre was not a dictator. He was one of 12 members on the Committee of Public Safety; they had equal superiority, it physically could not have been a dictatorship even if he wanted it to, and he didn't. He signed the least number of arrest warrants out of all Committee members, he was generally a pretty decent guy. His death was horribly cruel and unjust. He advocated for equal male suffrage, (even supported a few women's rights which I know right now may seem not impressive, but like you need to think about the time and how revolutionary that would have been), he did not support slavery, he basically said to the colonies that 'hey if it takes slavery to keep your colonies running, then your colonies can fucking perish'. Was he perfect? Oh absolutely not. He wrote up the Law of 22 Prairial which I absolutely do not support and he still did sign arrest warrants but he signed the least number of arrest warrants out of all Committee members like I previously mentioned and did I mention that this guy fucking hated the death penalty? He absolutely hated it, tried to have it abolished even but the National Assembly had already accepted a proposal by one Joseph Guillotin a year earlier. (I'm sure you can figure out what roughly that proposal lead to). Robespierre hated blood and physical violence, he never attended a single execution except his own. And every single person that he would have signed and an arrest warrant for would be arrested, have a trial and then may or may not end up being executed. Whether or not they were executed was actually out of his jurisdiction. But here's the thing about his execution: he didn't get a trial. His enemies overthrew him and executed him without fucking trial. And you know what they did after his death I probably mentioned that already in that essay but they pinned all of their crimes on him. I mean you look at how many wild accusations were coming out of the time and really, what's a little gasoline on a forest fire? It's already burning, it's not like anybody's going to notice. I cannot stress how much propaganda there was after his death. And that's what so much of our modern view of him is based on: propaganda, of all things. The evidence is right there you look the propaganda and then you look at the records and you say well no actually he didn't fucking do any of that. It just takes a little bit of digging and it's really not that difficult. Also I don't know if I mentioned it in the essay part of the essay but, why don't I just take a moment to briefly touch on the Festival of the Supreme Being. Everybody likes to say oh this was him thinking of himself as some kind of God and trying to start a cult around himself. That is not true. France at this time was so chaotic and out of control. The hardcore atheists were very much against relation they wanted to abolish all religion and this caused a lot of conflict so he wanted to try and bring the people together. That is literally all it was. And it was a massive success actually, but his enemies obviously saw the opportunity there to slander him more and they took it.

Maximilian Robespierre was an autistic little nerd who was so obsessed with equal rights of people that he was nicknamed The Incorruptible and loved fruit tarts so much that he wrote a poem about god damn fruit tarts. How can you not love him? He was a decent guy he wasn't that bad, at least not in comparison to a lot of people at that time. Sort of the same story for Saint-Just: he's only known as the Archangel of Terror because he supported Robespierre and defended his dear friend on 9 Thermidor.

And it's honestly quite funny, the reason I know all this. In my Socials class we had just started learning about the French Revolution, and I was excited, everyone was excited. Because we love blood and violence and overthrowing the government. And in my English class, we were doing basically a book club thing and the group I was assigned to was reading the novel Iron Widow by Xiran Jay Zhao. And I remembered seeing a short video on YouTube by the author of this book that was basically along the lines of one person going, "You can't just have your protagonist murder their way to the top!" and the author responding, "The protagonist is based on the only female Chinese emperor. How do you think they got to that position? By being nice?" And so I went looking for this video because I found it amusing. I found the author's YouTube channel and began searching and while I was looking, I gound out that the author of the book that is literally about a murderous bisexual polycule destroying the patriarchy and overthrowing the government, also does Robespierre cosplay... Anyways, I found the videos quite amusing, but then at some point I came across this one that was basically them saying, "Yeah, I know I joke about him a lot, but I do have to come to his defense here because wasn't actually a dictator". And that's how I found out. I later pirated one of the books that they credited and read that in the span of like three days. Then I made the entirely impulsive decision to write a 30 page essay on Robespierre and why he wasn't a dictator... I'm not a masochist, it's only a coincidence that I happen to be the cause of a lot of my own suffering.

[yesterdayiwrote]

For someone who's so thoughtful when he speaks, Lewis really does still give some absolutely terrible quotes when he's talking to journalists...

[mc-critical]

Hatice and Ibrahim have never been more divided from each other up to that point than in E43-E44. While Hatice always sensed when Ibrahim was actually in danger or she's lost him in any way (i.e. E35 when she felt something in Edirne while Ibrahim was with Nigar), nothing came up when he was shot; he didn't even tell her what happened to him until she found out herself; they were seperated while he was recovering; the wait for Ibrahim to come back felt like an eternity to Hatice and she went through several breakdowns at once (and his carriage was right in front of her but she couldn't see him, her only thought until the very end was that he was dead, isn't that what her dream with the "crying" statues meant?); when he came back she wasn't allowed to spend at least some time alone with him as SS wanted to talk to him; even their sleep was interrupted. The only thing that Ibrahim asked Hatice to do was to play him his mother's song on the violin (I like to think that Hatice started learning the violin in order to become closer to him, to who he is, to his past again after what they went through with little Mehmet).... but he no longer associates even that with Hatice anymore.

[bananasfosterparent]

[rxttenfish]

yes i'm still sitting and stewing about that one post that went around a while ago like "we know what a fish is! tetrapods aren't fish! paraphyly is valid!" and i'm going to be sitting and stewing on it because it's not like that's a common misconception that entirely misunderstands the entire foundation of paleontology or anything! it's not like understanding that tetrapods are fish is fundamental to understanding tetrapod evolution or life on land as we know it or something!

anyways. people who aren't ready to learn the fact that there's no such thing as a species.

[tastytofusoup]

I remember the plot of a novel, but that doesn't mean it's real

[pa-pa-plasma]

i don't get people who think other people's pets are theirs. like where does that type of fucked up even come from

[prolibytherium]

One of my all time biggest pet peeves with historical(ish) fantasy is when the writer constructs a religion with a clear bias that it's stupid and false and therefore only the Stupid People and/or commoners believe in it and all the smart/elite main characters are like, quasi-atheists or otherwise just routinely flout established religious conventions of orthodoxy and/or orthopraxy because they're Too Smart for it or etc.

It's usually an extension of assumptions that people in the past were just less intelligent than in the contemporary, just being like "I know that the sun is a star millions of miles away that the earth orbits, but this ancient religion describes it as a chariot flying through the sky" and not really bothering to learn the context and just (consciously or subconsciously) settling on 'that's a crazy thing to think and was probably believed in because they were Stupid'.

And that whole attitude pisses me off so much. People were as 'smart' 10,000 years ago as they are today. These beliefs aren't just desperate, random flailing to explain phenomena that could not directly be accounted for either, it's not like people just looked at the sun and went "Uhhh I don't know what the fuck that thing is, actually. I guess it might be a chariot or a boat or something?? Yeah let's go with that." and based entire religious practices on this. Every well-established belief system exists within broader contexts of cultural values/subjective perceptions of reality/knowledge systems/etc, and exist as part of a historical continuum of religious practices that came before. Even when not Materially Correct, they have context and internal logic, they're not always dead literal with zero levels of allegory, and they're never a result of stupidity.

[vraska-theunseen]

auauaugh i can't even imagine how im going to get through sophomore year 😭 i don't even know how i'm going to get through this semester i always feel like i'm scrambling. even though i can tell im making way better progress compared to last semester like i'm learning things quicker im getting more done i have experience to build on instead of doing 10 fitups of shitty t joints im doing 3 or 4 and that's because (even if my teacher has to come in my booth to show me how to do it) with each bead slowly i remember how i've welded before and understand how i'm supposed to do it but that's still so much time im still behind compared to where my teacher said we should be and i don't understand how everyone else is understanding and doing everything faster than i am 😭

[sorcerous-caress]

I hope you are doing well

Did I- Did I make it seem like I'm going crazy or something? Like yes I am okay, I promise.

Well, no. I lied, but I'm not worse than normal. I have always been this deranged. It is not out of the ordinary. Why the concerns now?

But thank you anyways, I hope you're doing well too.

[chososrightnipple]

❝𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲.❞

: ̗̀➛ overview: telling various anime characters you want a baby.

: ̗̀➛ tw; afab!reader w/no gendered language. mentions of pregnancy and getting pregnant, first scenario is nsfw (w/ lowk breeding kink) but the rest are sfw. intentional lowercase!

── დ ──

he pauses, glancing over to you. there's a certain change in his expression that you can't decipher. something in the way his feet shuffle and his shoulders tense, in the way his eyes just barely squint and his tongue darts out to lick at his lips.

"you want a.. baby?" he repeats. the last word comes out strained, as if he was choking on the idea. the idea of you staring down at a positive pregnancy test, the idea of you waddling around the house, the idea of you carrying his child.

you nod, eyeing his form in the kitchen. when your eyes meet his, he looks away and back down to the dishes in front of him. "i want your baby," you correct, almost shyly.

he audibly gulps, setting down the dish he was washing with a dull thump of glass against sink. his hands grip at the granite counter and he tilts his head backward. a long exhale escapes him. there's a pause in the air, only for a few seconds. you, sat on the couch, face flushed and wondering if your confession was a mistake, and him standing silent in the kitchen.

"my baby." he repeats. tasting the way the words sit on his tongue. toying with the implications, the ideas floating around in his head. for a brief moment, a vision of you fucked out and actually dripping with his cum flashes before his eyes.

the man shudders visibly and forces himself to take a deep breath. in, then out, and in again.

he turns around and leans against the granite counter, crossing his tense arms over his chest. this time, when you go to meet his eyes, you find his gaze is already boring into yours. there's an air of certainty around him, something that leaves you feeling strangely breathless. hooded eyes never leaving yours, jaw ticking and lips turning upwards, almost smugly.

he brings a shaky hand up to run through his hair. pushing back stray strands and ruffling. you can't tell if the action is out of nerves or if he's just struggling that hard with holding himself back.

"hm. guess i'll have to make you one then."

↳ (jjk) toji fushiguro, geto suguru, gojo satoru, (mha) keigo takami, dabi, aizawa shouta, shigaraki tomura, (kny) sanemi shinazugawa, tengen uzui

── დ ──

you can feel his entire body tense behind you after you blurt the words out. the arms around your waist tightening their hold, the legs entangled with yours going rigid. even the small breaths that fan your neck momentarily pause, and you suddenly feel cold.

"sweetheart?" you whisper out, wondering if you had made some kind of mistake admitting your desire for a baby. that maybe you guys aren't ready for that conversation, yet.

from behind you, he exhales sharply, a small noise escaping his throat. then, the hands on your waist are suddenly gripping into your skin, and he's haphazardly maneuvering you until your face to face with him. no longer spooning, but rather brushing noses and sharing breaths.

"what did you just say?" the words are muttered, whispered like a secret only you two share.

he's staring at you with such a look that every nerve under your skin begins to burn. it's more than affection, more than desire, more than love. like he never wants to look away, like he can stand witness to the expansion of the universe just from looking into your eyes.

you swallow harshly, a hand coming up to play with the back of his hair. something to ground you back to reality. he preens at the touch, and you can feel a shiver rack through him.

"i said i want to have a baby." you hum, soft and sweet.

his eyes fall shut and he leans his forehead against yours. the grip he has on your waist tightens, his other hand beginning to run up and down your back. as if he's struggling to keep his head out of the clouds just as much as you are.

"really? you wanna start a family with me?" he chokes the words out, as if the utter idea of it seems impossible. as if you'd never want him, want the life he's also been daydreaming about.

you cusp at his cheek, thumbing at the soft skin. something warm fills you, every inch of your body, tingling at your fingertips. you think about it all over again- him, a father, running around a fenced in yard, chasing a giggling toddler, the smell of lunch cooking in the background. and you, watching it all from a swing on the porch. how could you not want that?

you smile, "honey, i want to start a life with you."

↳ (jjk) yuta okkotsu, megumi fushiguro, nanami kento, choso kamo, (mha) natsuo todoroki, toshinori yagi, (kny) obanai iguro, tomioka giyuu, rengoku kyujuro

── დ ──

the car tires squeal as he briefly loses control of the wheel, jerking it to the left and just barely missing the concrete lane divider. your grip onto your seatbelt, and the only reason you don't go flying forward is the arm of your lover jutting out in front of you. with a small curse, he straightens out the car and hits the brakes.

the car behind you beeps angrily, though he only waves them off through the window before focusing back on the road. it's silent for a few seconds, the two of you catching you breaths and trying to quiet the loud heartbeat of adrenaline. you begin to think that blurting out your want for a baby while on the road wasn't the brightest idea.

the man sitting beside you finally speaks up a few moments later. his words come out breathless and high pitched. "a baby?! like... a real one?"

you snap your head towards him and, in irritation, begin to slap at his shoulder and arm. "are you kidding!? you almost kill us and that's the first thing you say to me?! i'm being serious! i want a baby!"

he whines, weakly fending off your attacks with his other hand. "oka- okay! stop hitting me, jesus!" he groans, attention diverted between the green light in front of him and your pouting face.

you finally relent after one final slap and huff in annoyance. crossing you arms and slouching against the passenger seat like a toddler who hasn't been given their way.

he eyes you from the drivers seat with a wobbly lip. trying desperately to hold back the laugh brewing inside of him, knowing it'll only serve to annoy you further. he seems to have a special talent at that.

"stop pouting, c'mon now. look at me, love." he coos, taking one of his hands off the wheel and instead using it to caress your cheek. tapping at your nose, twirling at your hair, then gripping your chin and tilting it toward him.

he spares a brief glance toward you, not wanting to take his eyes off of the road for too long. "you really want a baby? i'll give you one, yeah? i'll trash the condoms myself as soon as we get home. how's that sound?"

you roll your eyes, but he can see the amusement cracking through your expression bit by bit. then, finally, you smile. small at first, before it splits wide across your lips. he awes audibly, pinching at your cheeks before you slap his hand away.

yeah, he doesn't think he'd mind a baby with you. not if they got your pretty little smile (and, hopefully, something of his, too).

↳ (jjk) yuji itadori, gojo satoru, ino takuma, (mha) keigo takami, hizashi yamada, mirio togata, (kny) tengen uzui

[penny-anna]

the Justice League's identities all get publically leaked but before the dust has settled someone on twitter is like 'OMG i can't believe you guys are actually buying this obviously fake leak. look at this 'Billy Batson' person's birthday, he would only have been 11 years old when Captain Marvel started operating? how are you people so dumb'

immediately throws the whole thing into doubt. everyone going over the other ID information looking for other potential discrepancies. 'they expect us to believe Superman is some journalist called Clark Kent? they don't even look alike' and 'look at this Hal Jordan guy next to Green Lantern their facial structures aren't the same at all' and 'this Diana Prince woman has NO web presence, I don't think she's a real person'

'Bruce Wayne? c'monn how stupid do these peple think we are' etc etc

someone brings up that Wally West is clearly too young to have been operating as the Flash the entire time but then people from Central City are like no no that one might be legit, it's common knowledge locally that there's been more than one Flash.

this sparks the idea that perhaps the original Captain Marvel died or retired and was replaced with a new guy at some point. another whole group of people now scrutinising images of him trying to identify when the '''''switch'''' happened.

someone doing a deep local newspaper archive sweep turns up a photo of CC Batson accompanying a story abt his archaeology work, everyone agrees that Captain Marvel has his exact face, takes 0.2 seconds to join the dots that he officially died not long before Captain Marvel first appeared and Billy is his son. 2 Captain Marvels theory, previously dismissed as nonsense by most reasonable people, now looking very plausible.

whatever group leaked the identities absolutely steaming bcos their data is good damn it, everything in there is 100% factually correct and no-one is buying it ):<

Justice League and associates (initially sweating) now just pouring fuel on the fire. Oracle has made dozens of sockpuppet accounts to spread chaos and discord. official Flash account insisting that actually everyone is mistaken and he's definitely 100% been one guy this whole time. Lois Lane on twitter like 'do you guys think I wouldn't know if my husband was Superman'.

absolute pandemonium.

[rockingbytheseaside]

Hey! Gosh I love your fics, you are so talented! <3 I have a request after your latest fic haha. The sentences 'It's only a matter of time before he accidentally slips and calls you his spouse in front of people.' would be the perfect plot, actually. When and how would the Harbingers calls their s/o 'their wife' in front of others first time? If you don't like it, you don't have to do it! i hope you have an awesome day!

(hehe, yes, accidentally… mmm. Enjoy!)

✦ They accidentally call you their spouse 

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Pantalone, Tartaglia

It was a complete and utter accident; just a harmless slip of the tongue. One moment, your beloved was politely introducing you to some of his Fatui subordinates, the other he inadvertently referred to you as “my spouse” in front of others. It would've been a sweet moment of shared laughter, were it not spoken in front of so many people of the Fatui. It’s not like your beloved’s subordinates would start correcting him, he's a Harbinger after all… now how would you navigate this awkward situation? 

✧ The ever-cold and calculating Pierro prevents any mistakes from slipping past him. Yet here he is, standing composed next to you as he gently gestures to you and claims:

“From here on out, my spouse shall reside in the Zapolyarny Palace and I expect all obedience to be directed towards them.” 

You went silent. The servants went silent. Even he went silent. You carefully murmured to him:

“... Pierro, dear. We are not married.” 

Somehow the Jester remained blank, as if the error of his brain eluded him. Or perhaps, he realized it was too late to reprimand his mistake, especially in front of the royal servants of the palace. He simply cleared his throat and nodded woefully: “Indeed, we aren't. My apologies.” 

The hushed murmurs of The Director’s “innocent mistake” spread soundlessly like an inside secret within the Palace's walls. It wasn't news that the Jester adored you, but to witness the typically collected Pierro clear his throat bashfully, while you stood there timidly after correcting his mistake was endearing. 

These rumors, of course, reached the ears of the 3rd of the Fatui Harbingers’ ears, Columbina. Such tales were her delight, a personal pastime, relishing the timid nature of your private relationship with Pierro. She just had to tease you two by reminding him of the incident. Thus, one day, she approached The Jester in his office on an inconspicuous day and asked:

“Oh, cheer up, Director. It's been months since your last mishap. Surely you wouldn't let your composure shatter in front of the one you call beloved so easily?”

“You are correct,” - Pierro replied to the Dove calmly. “It was a mistake. Hence, I amended it and made sure it's no longer an issue.”

That’s when Columbina’s gaze drifted to his hands, where he was not leisurely adjusting his cuffs but subtly displaying an ornament on his ring finger. His engagement ring. If the 3rd Harbinger could open her enigmatic eyes, she would stare absolutely wide-eyed and dumbfounded through her white ribbons. When the hell did he get engaged-?!

“Pierro, dear,” - you suddenly stepped in, that same embarrassed interjection escaping you “Please stop boasting about our engagement. We haven't made it official yet.” 

✧ The poor Fatui soldier under Il Capitano's recruit stood stiffly looking at their Harbinger. Was it dread or the web of discomfort one feels when seeing a couple argue over something entirely beyond their input? Because that's certainly what the current Fatui skirmisher felt when standing between you and Il Capitano. 

“I can't allow this, Capitano,” – you huffed, your head shaking in dismay. “You over-dedicate yourself in battles.” 

“We went over this, my cherished. I have to, it is my duty as the Captain. Not just for the Fatui’s sake, but for your own safety as well!” 

“No, no,” – you clicked your tongue. “Don’t give me that. You know that's not the issue… the issue is that you overwork yourself by beating everyone in a duel and not leaving me anything else to defeat! What am I supposed to do?!”

“But my beloved-!” 

That's how your lover's quarrel underwent, and the Fatui Skirmishers that kept blinking in disbelief, stood helpless as the argument ping-ponged between ‘who gets to defeat more enemies on the battlefield’. Finally, your beloved spoke with an irritated huff at your scolding:

“Well, did you perhaps consider that I do not wish for my spouse to overextend themselves and get recklessly injured over some personal records?”

“Oh, so now you-... What did you just call me?” 

The sudden realization caused a deafening silence between you and Capitano like a blade poised to strike. His pitch-black visage did not help to decipher whether he was grappling with his mistake or masking his shock. You insisted: “Capitano, what did you just call-”

“I did not say anything.” 

“You did, you…Hey-! Don't turn your back on me, come back here!” 

Perhaps The 1st of the Fatui Harbingers does not flee from a challenge like a pathetic coward. However, today was a great chance to use a tactful retreat, to put it softly, all in the hopes of escaping your wrath. How else would he explain his mishaps of calling you his ‘spouse’ so casually? If he confessed that he thought “it sounds so befitting for my one and only” he might as well just reveal every tender plan of a quiet life with you. And he can't have you teasing his affection for a domestic life alongside you. 

For now, fleeing was a wise and honorable choice, especially when you are ready to duel him any moment now.

✧ It was another one of those days in Il Dottore's lab. His fingers tap the surface of the table, chin resting on his palm, while a pen balanced precariously behind his ear. Delegating his final tasks for today, he supervised some final organizational matters in the lab while addressing some lab assistants with his usual air of nonchalant authority.

“Ensure all the surgical sets are properly sanitized and checked in the ultrasonic cleaner. I expect them neatly arranged by day’s end. My spouse prefers the equipment organized this way.”

One of the lab assistants stopped in their tracks, staring at him. 

“And don't inform them how some glassware shattered today. It would be irrelevant for them to worry…”

Mumbling to himself, Dottore only now realized that his lab assistants fell eerily silent, staying motionless as they blinked at him. Humming in confusion, he turned his attention at last, only to realize these unfortunate listeners were not gawing at him, but rather someone behind him.

Lo and behold, you stood there, behind him.

With a hand on your hip, you inquired with deceptive simplicity: “Oh? You have a spouse, dear?”

He pretends he wasn't aware of the conundrum and the absurdity of his slip-up. But even with his eyes covered behind that smooth black mask covering his eyes, you can see the haughty expression on his lips. Thus, he crossed his arms.

“Hm, Perhaps. You could say I do.”

“Then my condolences to your spouse. They must have the patience of a saint.”

The Doctor’s assistant had to repress their little chuckles. The tense atmosphere of the laboratory would always be dismissed with your ease, as you’d knowingly nod to Dottore’s colleagues and allow them to leave you two alone. Not even Dottore’s stern attitude would interfere otherwise, even if he tried to conceal his flustered composure at your mere words: “Well perhaps they are a saint, but also a handful for me to deal with.”

“Well, your hypothetical spouse is telling you it's late already and you should take a break for today.”

Conceding to your playful banter, The harbinger’s shoulders loosened up, a rare smile gracing him as he followed you with a wrapped arm around your shoulder. Your victory is marked by your knowing smile and Dottore would not object or conceal his infatuation by referring to you as his spouse. Even if he denies the marital titles as nothing but superficial formalities, he’d walk with you back to your shared personal quarters mumbling:

“Spouse’s orders it is, then.”

✧ It happened during a busy moment when Pantalone and you were at a tailor shop. After much persuasion that lasted weeks, your beloved succeeded at finally dragging you to a luxurious tailoring workshop, where store attendants welcomed you both and helped take your measurements with utter refinement and class.

You stood still with your arms extended, while the attendants did their swift duty with a measuring tape. In the mirror’s reflection before you, you caught sight of Pantalone standing a few steps away, his hand resting thoughtfully against his chin.

“Perhaps an elegant new blazer, white with golden accents?”

You remained still, looking absent-mindedly at the array of fabrics on display. “Dear, there is no need for every piece of clothing to look like it was made for a soirée. I am perfectly fine with a casual cotton blazer.”

The shop attendant closest to you stepped close with some swatches of fabrics to choose from, offering a polite smile. However, Pantalone had to shake his head and charmingly declare – “Oh, nonsense, my spouse deserves only the highest quality and looks when it comes to tailor-made pieces. Excuse me, may I inspect the catalogs for fabrics?”

With a polite nod, the shop assistant did not question the Harbinger or your baffled expression at the sudden choice of words. She was already moving around: “Most certainly, sir. I am sure you and your partner would love our available options. In fact, we also offer discounts for matching tailored ensembles for betrothed pairs if it's for a wedding or a honeymoon special.”

"Wait, wait… we are not-”

“Ah, wonderful,” Pantalone kept the same polite persona without missing a beat. However, the slight knowing smile did not go unnoticed as he glanced at you. “That will be excellent to keep in mind for the future."

What was promised as a quick visit to the tailor shop turned into Pantalone victoriously dragging you through multiple high-end workshops and analyzing the myriads of ‘honeymoon and wedding’ offers when it came to tailor-made clothes. And you, of course, could only gape at him while he kept that ever-charming grin.

“Pantalone, honey, we are not looking into engagement accessories. We are not married.”

“Oh? We are not?” - He feigned innocence and tilted his head. “Hehe, oops.”

✧ When Tartaglia made his way back with his men to Snezhnaya, the fuzzy white snow provided a stark white contrast to the shedding blood on the ground. Clear ruby red droplets stained the cool white terrain after the Harbinger’s successful expedition. 

“Lord Harbinger Tartaglia,” – a Pyro Agent approached, bowing in recognition. “Our reports are in. The site is clear; all abyssal monstrosities have been eliminated.”

Yet Childe was far from tranquil. The rush of battle was still hot in his blood, his hydro dual blades clutched tightly in his hands. Another mission dispelling any filth at the outskirts of Snezhnaya may be mundane for some Fatui skirmishers, yet for a man like Childe, this was his warm-up. 

“Ha… not bad. We finished much earlier today. And here I suspected this would take a whole day.” 

The Pyro Agent nodded – “Yes, sir, indeed. Judging by estimation, our troop would be back to the city by nightfall.”

“...Hold on, nightfall?” 

Suddenly, Tartaglia froze as if a deep culmination dawned on him. The confirmation from his subordinates did not quell his sudden shock. In mere seconds, all his battle rush and thrill of danger vanished before Tartaglia whipped around and exclaimed loudly to his men: 

“Teucer’s theater performance at school is today! My spouse is gonna kill me!” 

Without further words or thought, the Harbinger literally turned and sprinted as far as the horizon could see, leaving his subordinates baffled. Teucer? Spouse? This young Harbinger was married? 

“What… is he on about? I didn't know our lord Harbinger was married,” - the Pyro Agent mumbled, looking into the distance where the figure of a sprinting young man vanished off comically. An Anemoboxer Vanguard stepped nearby, adjusting his gauntlets. “I am pretty sure he isn't. It could be a family member.”

“Then who is the spouse…?” 

The Fatui colleagues exchanged shrugs before the other remembered – “Ah, could be his partner. Remember, they sometimes come to visit when he's training?”

“Oh, then definitely them.” – the two men stared off in the direction Tartaglia had gone, the bizarre image of their superior, so consumed by his bloodlust moments ago, suddenly halting everything to rush home for some kid’s theater performance. And accidentally calling his sweetheart his spouse would be hard to forget.

“Wanna bet he won't make it in time and his ‘spouse’ would teach him a lesson?”