#first of all you have your own child that you’re failing to parent. second of all you are also messing up hank’s son. AND HES NOT EVEN YOURS

[it--knows-you]

obsessed w Denvers being everyone’s shitty mother figure in Ennis. Hello there young adult without a mother. Do you have mommy issues? Would you like to?

[madelynraemunson]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 (𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲) 𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐞 ✨ — a steve harrington one shot fic

modern!sperm donor!steve x modern!pregnant!fem!reader

Summary: It’s hard to find ‘forever’ in a world that glorifies hook-up culture. After multiple failed relationships, you start to believe that your dream of having a family someday will only be just that — a DREAM. That is until you stumble across The Baby Gate Foundation, a family planning organization that helps qualifying Strangers start families with one another.

disclaimers — fluff overload, strangers to friends to lovers, some angst, reader goes by “Honey”,

NSFW — very brief smut, p in v sex (unprotected), breeding kink, cream pie, soft!dom steve

word count — 6.0k words

“So… what’s your favorite color?”

It’s the most aggravating question to ask when wading in the Dating Pool — and unfortunately the most frequent. But you figure at least asking about Steve Harrington’s favorite color is a good ‘precursor question’ when trying to get to know him. After all, you are the one carrying his child.

“Cerulean,” the handsome stranger from across the table replies.

“What’s that?”

“It’s a type of blue.”

“You could’ve just said blue.”

“What’s the fun in that?”

You issue him a touché type nod as you gently place your folded hands over your growing bump…a bump that was a byproduct of an ordeal that he wasn’t even present to participate in.

Before you knew him as Steve Harrington, he was just Stranger #021 whose sperm donation gave you the gift of life. The gift of having a little one of your own.

And it was about time you started a family. It has been a dream of yours — once you bagged your dream job and got to travel the world — to get married and have kids. But apparently the person you spent 6 years with did not share that dream, despite having told you he did in the beginning stages of your partnership.

Are you crazy? How dare you think your ex wanted a family after he explicitly told you he wanted you to marry him and have his kids? Silly lady. You actually thought he meant what he said.

And Steve Harrington’s baby daddy application seemed impossible to resist. The Baby Gate Foundation disclosed to you that Stranger #021 has no physical ailments, was a star athlete in high school, isn’t a carrier for any chronic illnesses, and passed a mental health and drug clearance.

Your baby is very likely to come out healthy and, now that you’ve gotten a good general idea of the guy, will hopefully inherit Steve’s luscious chestnut brown hair, his radiant smile, sparkling eyes, and kind nature. A healthy baby. A healthy family. It’s all you’ve ever wanted.

“Your stomach feeling okay?” Steve inquires.

“Yeah,” you smile. “I just like touching it sometimes. It still doesn’t feel real.”

When selected, Steve jumped for joy. And you bet he started doing cartwheels when your pregnancy test came out positive. My dick still works! he remembers saying.

Having been a foster parent to many teenagers in the past, Steve also felt ready to have a kid of his own. But then his first long term girlfriend of three years cheated on him, and then his next long term girlfriend left him when she realized a family with him was not what she wanted. Steve was practically on the same boat as you. And the stars aligned…

“So I was thinking…when you’re in what’s considered a ‘safe’ point in your pregnancy, say second trimester… we can do cute pregnancy announcements,” Steve suggests.

Your eyes glimmer at the thought.

“As coparents of course!” Steve makes sure to add. “A-and then we can have a gender reveal. We can choose the theme and ideas for it later but I’m just thinking of an intimate cake cutting thing….pink frosting, obviously for girl…”

“And cerulean for boy,” you smirk at him, finishing his thought.

He chuckles at your comment. “Yes, cerulean for boy.”

You two then begin to brainstorm the minor details. Signing up for parenting classes. Check-up appointments. Your baby registry. Ironing out the details so that you both can relish in the pregnancy as much as possible.

When you’re done, Steve then pays for your lunch and you two go separate ways. But not before a long, grateful hug.

“Thank you,” you whisper into his ear. “You’ve made my dream come true.”

“I am just as indebted,” Steve insists, giving your back a loving rub. “I’ve always wanted to be a father.”

You decide to not let go until Steve breaks the hug. But little did you know that was Steve’s plan too. So you both stand there, in the middle of the mall food court swaying back and forth, waiting patiently for the other to let go because to be honest, you never know what a simple ‘I see you’ hug can do for somebody.

Finally, Steve pulls away.

“Listen, uh, Honey,” he says. “I hope this doesn’t sound weird because technically we don’t really know each other…but I already care about you so deeply. You’re the mother of my child. I want to be as involved as possible.”

“I care about you too Steve,” you beam at him. “And I feel like our healing journeys are coming to an end. I’m so excited to come together with another person who has the same goals in life.”

And that is all that’s said during that exchange. You hope that throughout your pregnancy, you and Steve can have more coparent dates to really get to know each other. You love that he feels safe and trustworthy, willing to put his all into the child that he, and many many medical experts helped you create. And you hope that as your baby grows up, you will find a lifelong partner like Steve someday.

“So how’d it go?”

You’re over at your best friend, Eddie’s apartment talking to him about your day. Eddie has been your best friend since middle school, bearing witness to every wonderful milestone — and tragedy — that has plagued your life ever since. Your decision to become a mother on your own, and coparenting with a stranger is no exception.

“I like him!” you exclaim. “He’s very sweet.”

“Do you trust him as your Baby Daddy?”

“If I didn’t, it’d be a little too late for that I’m afraid.”

Eddie would’ve been more than happy to be your donor, and without a doubt, you’d trust him in being fully present in the child’s life. However Eddie comes from a home with a turbulent family dynamic, and unfortunately is a carrier of the addiction gene along with many other illnesses. Eddie didn’t want to risk doing that to you or your family. So it works out that he and his boyfriend Henry are the ‘Fun Uncles’ or as he calls them “Funcles” instead, and Steve is the dad.

“But yeah I like Steve,” you circle back. “He’s funny, sweet, looks like he takes care of himself. Even paid for my food. Oh, and as a bonus, he uses big words.”

Eddie snorts as he strides over to the fridge. “He uses big words.”

“Yeah, like cerulean.”

Your bestie cocks an eyebrow and smirks at you. “What’s that?”

“It’s a type of blue,” you smirk back at him.

He releases a theatrical gasp. “Ground-breaking.”

Your banter is cut short when Eddie’s partner Henry walks through the door.

“Hello, hello.”

“Hey, Henry!”

You watch as the quiet, tall blonde dressed in dark-denim-tailored-to-fit struts in with a grocery bag, closing the door behind him with his foot.

“Hi, darlings.”

“Funcle Number Two,” Eddie greets his partner.

“I thought I was Number One.”

“You are,” Eddie shrugs. “In my heart. If you have an issue with your title and rank, I’d talk it up with Honey.”

“You can be Number One,” you grant him permission, eliciting a betrayed gasp from Eddie.

“Thank you, Honey,” Henry smirks, shooting a sassy look at Eddie.

Eddie issues a sour variation of that smirk to Henry, only to be met with a rough nudge to the ribcage. The two black cats then assemble to unload the groceries, all while focusing their attention back to you, their appointed ‘golden retriever’ of the bunch.

“Speaking of titles,” Henry adds. “How was your meeting with Daddy Steve?”

“It was wonderful,” you respond. “Was just telling Eddie how much I like him.”

Henry grimaces, understandably so. Your taste and judgment in men throughout the years have been nothing short of concerning. But because you didn’t willingly seek Steve out on a shady online dating app, at a dive bar at 2 AM, or on the dance floor of a sweaty small town nightclub, you figured you were in the clear.

“We’re gonna make it work no matter what,” you insist to your seemingly doubtful friends. “Even if there are discrepancies, we agreed it’s our kid before anything. And I’m ready. I told you guys myself that if I don't meet the love of my life by the time I'm 29, I'm having a baby by myself."

Aside from the two "Funcles", you have been the only consistent person in your life. And in this day and age, two people don't need to 'be together' to bring life into this world. And even if they are together, it’s not a happy home sometimes.

All that matters in this arrangement is that both of Baby Harrington’s parents are involved. That was Steve's promise to you.

Let's just hope he keeps it.

“That’s the head… and those…are your baby’s feet.”

You and Steve watch the monitor in awe as the sonographer scans your belly. You are now 20 weeks along, and doing a routine ultrasound check up.

First trimester was a nightmare. Constant nausea and vomiting so you’re not even sure that you’re stomaching those pre-natals, intense mood swings, and breast tenderness so bad you essentially begged Steve to just chop your tits off.

Regardless, you are healthy, and the baby is healthy. And now your camera roll is filled with pictures and videos of every frame of every ultrasound you get done, as well as audio recordings of Baby Harrington’s heartbeat. You and Steve even share your content amongst each other, just in case the other missed something that the other captured. It’s a wholesome exchange, really.

“Baby’s kicking a lot. Almost looks like they’re swimming in place,” the tech comments.

“I did swim and water polo in high school, could be why,” Steve explains.

You bat your eyes in adoration at your friend. He gives you a warm look back.

“Just like Daddy,” you say. And then Steve rests his palm atop your hand.

For the first time in a long time, everything feels complete.

“So, would you like to know the gender?” the sonographer inquires.

Immediately you and Steve bombard her with anxious-filled “No no no no”s. You decided to go with the cake gender reveal idea, and Henry and Eddie were in charge of having it made.

“We’d like for it to be a surprise,” Steve smiles. “But we sure would like an envelope with the gender in it. Honey’s gonna give it to her friends to give the baker.”

“Sounds like a plan to me!” the tech grins widely. “I will have it printed out for you shortly.”

She wipes your belly down so that there is no more ultrasound jelly on your stomach before leaving. Meanwhile, you and Steve are absolutely giddy. You are now halfway through your pregnancy and couldn’t wait to hold Baby Harrington in your arms.

But as exciting as everything is, it is also anxiety-inducing. No parenting book could ever prepare you for bringing a kid into the world. There was so much more that needed to be done. So much to do. And it seems like there was so very little time to do it.

Steve has another question for you. “When does the baby usually wake you up?”

“Baby’s a night owl, strangely,” you reply. “I’ll feel some moving and stuff at night.”

Steve sighs and shakes his head in thought.

“Man, I hope kid doesn’t wake you up at night too much when they’re born. That’d be god awful.”

“I know, I’ve been thinking of that too,” you groan. “And all the diaper changes I’ll probably have to do before putting them back to sleep. Ugh, I don’t even wanna think about diapers.”

You didn’t want to think about post-partum shit. So far, you’ve only been focused on pregnancy shit, and that shit is already overwhelming. While you seem well-equipped for pregnancy itself, the thought of actually being a fully-functioning parenting unit alongside Steve brings on a new set of fear.

Suddenly you and Steve look up at each other.

“Oh shit!” you shriek. “A crib! We need a crib! A stroller.”

“And a whole nursery,” he gulps. “And a baby monitor… A swaddle! A carrier!”

———

You and Steve are moved in together by the end of the month. Platonically, of course. With a capital P.

You both figured that raising the baby under one roof would be the healthiest way to approach your parenting situation. Both of you already get along really well and have similar communication styles. You two also have the same expectations from each other. And not every child is blessed with two parents living together in a happy home. It’s a luxury you both refused to take for granted.

So eventually the non-traditional-housewarming-slash-baby-shower-party rolls around, in efforts to help prepare for Baby Harrington’s arrival. It ends up being a huge success. Additionally, the party gave everyone a chance to mingle with one another, your friends meeting Steve’s friends and jokingly calling each other "in-laws". Robin and Eddie immediately grow very fond of each other, having deemed each other best friends after their third time meeting.

“How long do you give it?” Robin asks Eddie as they watch you and Steve work together to build the crib. “You know till they…”

They observe as you and Steve bicker back and forth about whether or not a section of the crib was installed the wrong way. You argue that it was, and Steve, still firm in his masculinity that he felt like was slowly chipping away (he can’t help it sometimes) insisted that it wasn’t.

“I know how to read, Honey. And besides, if it’s the wrong part, how did I screw it on perfectly?”

“I don’t know, Bob the Builder,” you fire back at him. “You didn’t have to 'screw it on perfectly' to get me pregnant.”

“Til that baby is born,” Eddie estimates.

Eddie chuckles at this. He’s been with Henry for many years, but you two have beat him at the argue-like-a-married couple thing. Slyly, he sips his beer.

“…The very latest.”

“Steve, I’m hungry. Wanna go to Rally’s?”

The cravings have officially kicked in (finally). But of course, it’s at the least convenient of times.

“Woman, it is 1 in the morning...”

“Yes, and I want Rally’s.”

You give Steve a light thunk on his fluffy head.

Now that you two live together, sleeping in the same bed was bound to happen eventually. But it is the least of your concerns. In a world where people go ‘ghost’ after getting what they want, laying your head down in the same bed as Steve is the farthest thing from intimacy. You’re also afraid of the dark, and being in his light calms your nerves.

Except for tonight. Where the only thing that’ll calm those nerves is a Wild West burger and some fries.

Steve huffs, clearly too tired to argue with your hungry ass. But also, you’re the mother of his child. You have the hardest job, and having a late night snack when you felt like it is the bare minimum of what you deserve.

“Let’s go.”

You smirk to yourself as you dance your way out of bed. Anything Baby Mama wants, Baby Mama gets.

Rally’s sure did the trick. When you and Steve return, you find yourself skipping back to the bedroom while Harrington fights to urge to plop onto the floor right by the entry way, his body’s natural response to a food coma, and the state of lethargy he was in from being stirred awake.

But as much as he valued his beauty sleep, he knows deep down he’d still do it again for you. Your little food dance was also pretty damn cute, anyways.

———

THE NEXT WEEK

You and Steve have been ordering way too much takeout. So tonight you decide to surprise him with a home-cooked meal. So while he’s at work, you’re searching Pinterest for healthy, savory dishes to cook. Chinese food it is. One can never go wrong with some chicken fried rice.

Steve comes home right when you finish.

“Oh my god,” Steve gawks as he enters the kitchen. “What smells so damn good?”

“I made dinner,” you smile gleefully, and with pride. “I have so much energy second trimester it’s insane. Hope you like Chinese.”

Steve slows down. Glancing around the chaotic kitchen, he takes in the array of sauces, the cutting board, and the multiple plates and bowls that most likely harbored the. Then he looks at you — a sweaty mess with stains on her apron from all the rice tossing. And he can tell, by your slightly labored breathing, that you’re gathering up all the energy you possibly can to powerwash all the dishes.

“You…made this for me?”

“Yeah! For us, actually. And the baby. I hope you’re okay with onions and scallions.”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine with those,” he insists. “It’s just that…I have a date tonight.”

Suddenly the pots and pans feel so much heavier. The air, hotter. The onions, stronger judging by how tears start pooling at the base of your eyes. At least you want to blame it on those.

“Oh,” you sniff.

“I’m so sorry, Honey. I should’ve told you so you didn’t have to go out of your way.”

“It’s fine.”

Why do you feel this way? It’s not like you two are together anyway. This pregnancy is a partnership… platonic with a capital P. So why are you upset? And more importantly, why are you jealous?

“I-I’m sorry…” Steve panics. “I-it’s just that we’ve been getting takeout all week and I thought it’d be the same toni-”

“It’s okay, Steve.”

“That came out so bad, I…”

“I know what you mean,” you shake your head shutting him down immediately. “Have fun tonight, okay?”

“You’re crying…”

“I was chopping onions,” you point out.

You nod to the bag of onions that were yet to be put away. There was a lot left to be put away actually, and you were kind of hoping Steve would help. But clearly he’s a busy man.

“And it’s probably just the stupid pregnancy hormones too,” you add.

“They’re NOT stupid,” Steve insists. “And you just said you have so much energy. You were bursting with light just a moment ago…before I killed it.”

“Have fun tonight, Steve,” you repeat.

You head over to the wok and scoop out a serving for two: one serving for you, and one for the baby. Dad will get the leftovers, you suppose.

Steve watches you intently. You can feel his stare even with your back turned. Suddenly, you hear the faint dial tone of his cell phone ringing a couple of times before someone answers.

“Hey…Lacey, I can’t come tonight,” Steve sighs. “I’m really sorry for being so last minute. A family emergency came up.”

You look back over at him. He makes sure to look you in the eyes as he says ‘family’.

The two of them talk some more before Steve hangs up the phone. Awkwardly now, you chew softly at the rice you made.

“Well she definitely hates me,” Steve chuckles. “But I don’t care.”

“Steve…” you speak. “You didn’t have to.”

“You’re carrying my kid,” Steve looks at you with glimmering eyes. “I can’t be running through the town in the arms of another woman. This pregnancy is a team effort.”

He glides over you and stops right where your hips meet. You timidly manage to look up at him, tear-jerked, all sweaty, and very very pregnant. And after Steve tucks a loose strand of hair behind the blushing cartilage of your ear, he presses his tender lips against your forehead.

“For the baby,” he whispers to you.

“For the baby,” you repeat after him.

The day is here.

The gender reveal, that is. You didn’t expect finding out something as simple as having a boy or girl was going to be this nerve wracking. And to think some people do this in front of a huge audience.

“Okay…” you exhale unevenly. “You ready?”

“Only if you are,” Steve nods, but his trembling hands betray him.

“Hand me a glass.”

Steve hands you one of the two wine glasses you brought for the intimate picnic you had planned for today. On the count of three, you two were to dig those very glasses into the cake and scoop out the long awaited answer.

SWEET CHILD O MINE, the cake reads. Boy or girl?

Henry and Eddie settled for a Rock-N-Roll inspired cake, with self-indulgent black and red buttercream on the outside, and the pre-determined blue or pink on the inside. You were afraid that it was going to be a little too edgy for Steve, but he assures you the aesthetic of a cake is the least of his priorities.

Drawing out an uneven breath now, you decide to start counting down.

“One…” you gulp.

“Two…” Steve joins in.

But you can't bring yourself to say ‘three’. Shutting your eyes closed in a bout of nervousness, you mutter softly,

"Two and a half..."

It earns you a chuckle from Steve. Knowing just how to calm you down, like he had been doing all pregnancy, he offers you his available hand to squeeze if you needed.

“Three!” you two finally say together.

Plunging your wine glasses into the cake, you and Steve gather one big scoop each while your eyes drift elsewhere.

“I can’t look,” you choke, sniffing back a tear or two.

“I can’t either,” Steve exhales, evidently nervous. “You can look first though.”

“No, I’ll look when you do.”

You’re met with messy dough and frosting in the glass at first. But after trailing after the inside part of the cake, you catch sight of the fluffy frosting that was buried beneath. A bright, eye-catching, pastel....

...cerulean blue. A baby boy.

“Oh…my…god,” your hand trembles in complete shock. “It’s a boy…”

“Oh my god, baby!” Steve sniffs going in to hug you. “We’re having a boy…”

And then it happens. Unable to contain himself from his joy any longer, Steve cups your face with his frosting-laced fingers, connecting his lips passionately to yours, and you with him.

It’s the best day of Steve’s life. You are the reason that he gets to live out his dream of becoming a dad. And now that you two are having a son, all he can imagine is teaching the kid how to throw a football in the backyard, signing him up for T-Ball and Boy Scouts (just like his dad once did with him), and taking him and his buddies out on silly, fun-filled rag-tag group adventures.

And knowing how strange and daunting the world can be, Steve already maps out how to raise your child morally, encouraging him to always treat others with kindness, to be a friend to all, to always lend a helping hand whenever the situation calls on it. And to respect women…because after all, everybody came from one. And Steve knows that he struck gold, considering the fact that he views you as an absolute queen.

You kiss King Steve back, humming in awe because of how natural his energy feels against yours.

It all feels very natural. Makes you feel like you’ve known him your entire life.

Your eyes widen in shock as you two look at each other, both stunned that a kiss was both of your initial, seemingly ‘platonic’, response to the news.

"Is it just me or is it just now hitting?" Steve questions. "We're having a kid together."

"It's just now hitting me too," you agree, the double meaning tugging aggressively at your heartstrings. "We're really doing this, Stevie."

“Our son.”

“Our son.”

———

“What happens when one of us finds somebody?”

It’s a talk you and Steve were due for eventually. But Steve is just as unsure, looking over at your pregnant silhouette standing at the foot of the doorway.

But with how beautiful you looked standing at the doorway, your silk, maternity night gown hugging all the beautiful curves of your body while you rubbed your belly that housed your very active kicker, Steve wasn’t even sure if he’d ever want to find somebody else.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there,” he ends up saying.

He makes his way over to you, wrapping his gentle arms around your waistline, emitting his ever-growing love for you and the baby you two share.

“But if one thing's for sure, it's our son. Baby Harrington first. Before anything.”

“Baby before anything," you repeat the promise.

Steve’s lips graze your skin once again, an invitation and incentive to join him in bed — nuzzled up in the sheets and his warmth — so the two of you can soak in all the rest you possibly can before Baby Boy makes his entrance into the world.

Some bridges aren’t meant for crossing. Sometimes settling is the best option. And you don’t mind settling down. Because here, in Steve’s arms, it feels like home.

WEEK 38

An involuntary rush in your lower extremity stirs you awake. When you feel around to push the sheets aside and hobble to the bathroom, you’re stunned to discover your nightgown had become a raft, and that you’re laying atop your own unscented secretions. And you know it’s not piss. So if you didn’t pee…

Oh no, it’s happening.

You begin to panic.

“Steve!” you hiss, sitting up and pushing your partner awake. “HEY! Harrington!”

“Huh?” Steve mumbles, still half asleep.

“Get the hospital bag.”

“What?”

“Get the hospital bag, dingus. My water just broke.”

He shoots up. Still relatively disoriented, but now also horrified.

“W-what? Are you sure?! Does this… A-are you about to…”

“Yes! Grab the bag and start the car. He’s coming RIGHT NOW.”

While you slowly sit up to get your shoes and a robe on, Steve scurries to the car with your overnight L&D bag and purse in his arms. You reach over to grab your phone and charger, dialing up Eddie in the process.

It rings for a long time before he picks up.

“Honey, it’s 4 AM, what do you want?” Eddie grumbles.

“It’s time, Eds,” you sniff happily. “The baby is coming.”

The line is silent for a couple seconds, and for a while it’s like you can hear Eddie connecting the dots in his head. Alas, he speaks.

“HO-LY SHIT!”

*Click*. The line disconnects.

Steve holds your hand through it all. From checking into Labor and Delivery, to moving to your room, to breathing exercises with your bedside doula, check-ins with your midwife, and throughout the entire birthing process.

Not only is he nervous out of his mind, but he thinks you’re so beautiful.

"You know," Steve says in attempts to soothe you. "When I came out the womb, the nurse yelled "Oh my gosh! That's a lot of hair on a baby!"

You're too fixated on your breathing exercises to fully appreciate Steve's story. But you understand his sweet gesture, so you stroke his thumb with your thumb to let him know you're listening.

“I guess I had double the amount of hair than a usual newborn,” he continues. “And all the nurses were crowding around to get a good— OW OW OW! Watch the hand, watch the hand.”

The sudden level 9 contraction that shot through your entire stomach, causing you to scream in agony and beg for the epidural.

"JESUS, FUCK GET THIS BABY OUT OF ME!" you plead desperately.

Steve kisses you softly on the forehead before going in to stroke your, very sweaty, hair. He was not going to leave your side. Not now, not ever. This baby — and you — are the best things to ever happen to him.

Thanks to yours and Steve's mindful prep, the birthing process was a smooth one compared to others.

But still pretty painful, nonetheless. For you, for Steve, for everybody involved.

"Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit," Eddie sputters as he and Henry rush onto the unit with the baby's carseat and other miscellaneous belongings in their hands. "It's happening, it's happening. He's almost here!"

"I wonder," Henry pants, doing his best to keep up with his boyfriend. "If she experienced the Ring of Fire yet."

"What's the Ring of Fire?" Eddie questions him.

"AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" your tumultuous screams sound down the hall directly from your room. Anyone would've thought someone was getting murdered in there, had it not been a hospital unit strictly for childbirth.

"That," Henry answers him.

---

"You're almost there, baby," Steve encourages you. "Keep pushing."

The epidural had finally kicked in and now all you had to focus on was pushing.

“I see the head, Mama,” your midwife announces, rubbing your knee as you’re struggling to push. “Keep going, keep going! Couple more for me.”

“FUCK!” you cry out doing your best to contract those muscles.

“There we go…” Steve soothes you as he strokes your hair. “Doing AMAZING, baby. That’s it…”

He strokes your thumb with his, a helpless look in his eyes as he watches you struggle. It’s clear that Steve doesn’t know what else he could possibly do for you, but he attempts to mask that belief. He couldn’t wait to spoil you afterwards. It’s what you deserve.

“Few more pushes, Honey,” your nurse says again. “He’s almost out. We got his shoulders now.”

“Oh god I’m gonna faint,” Steve says, evidently growing dizzy.

“Can someone get a wet towel for Dad?!” another nurse calls out. “And maybe some juice?”

“PUSH, PUSH!”

“PUSH, Honey!”

“ALMOST THERE, MAMA!”

“I can’t,” you cry out. “I can’t anymore.”

“You can do it, baby,” Steve encourages you, pelting the back of your hand with endearing kisses. “You’re doing such a good job, I’m so proud of you…”

Before you know it, the air of the hospital room fills with tiny belted cries, followed by relieved and adorn coos as the nurse catches your baby.

“0507, time of birth!"

“Oh my god,” Steve wails in excitement. “Oh my god, he’s here he’s out. We have a baby! You did it, Honey!”

Too exhausted to say anything you simply fall back, taking a few deep breaths in relief. It’s over, the baby is here. And he is healthy.

You feel a sloppy kiss land on your cheek. Steve ruffles your hair when you look his way.

“You did it, Honey.”

Everything happens so fast after that.

From what you hear, Steve was the one who cut the umbilical cord — and he was very adamant about having the pictures to prove it. The baby was then weighed and bathed, all the hospital data was gathered with permission granted by Steve.

And soon, after an eternity, your son is swaddled and soon returned back to you and ‘Dad’.

"Oh wow!" a nurse remarks. "This baby has a whole lotta hair!"

You and Steve immediately look to each other and burst out laughing. Just like his Daddy...

———

“How does that feel, Steve?” you ask him, eyes fixated on the absolute DILF in front of you.

“Amazing,” he coos. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

When all needs were attended to, it was finally time for ‘skin to skin’. You didn’t think it’d be possible to be both sexy and wholesome at the same time — until you saw Steve cradling your newborn, pressing him tenderly against his exposed chest so that their hearts can beat as one.

“Hi little man,” he sniffs. “I’m your daddy.”

A single tear falls from his face and splashes onto the blanket that your son was cocooned in. Steve pulls him in closer and kisses him softly on the forehead.

“I’m your daddy,” he repeats.

It’s everything he’s ever wanted. Steve’s legacy is about to begin and it’s all thanks to you. And from your hospital bed as you recover, you are able to snap some pictures of the two loves of your life, the first photos of many, of the family photo albums.

“Ugh, when did Steve get so hairy?” Lucas wonders as he sneaks a gaze into the hospital room.

“Right?” Dustin agrees, joining him beside the doorway. “I told him he needs to tame that jungle but he claims the ladies dig it.”

“I mean, look at Honey,” Lucas points out. She seems to like it and Steve knocked her up.”

“True but it wasn’t organic, you idiot,” Max mutters.

Love pours in from every wing of the unit. Soon all your family and friends start to arrive, as well as Steve’s family and friends. You’re spoiled with ‘congratulations’ signs, and postpartum care packages, and an array of foods that you couldn’t eat while pregnant (i.e. sushi, deli sandwiches).

And with your approval, Steve comes out of the hospital room, ready — and proud — to showcase your baby to the entire world.

“Everyone, there’s someone we’d like for you to meet,” Steve says, keeping his voice at a low murmur. “This is Benjamin Dean Harrington. Benny for short.”

You and Steve end up taking parental leave at the same time.

Your entire day-to-day consists of loving on and spending quality time with Benny. The diaper changes, the cuddles, the nursery rhymes, and everything in between. It’s impossible to think you’ll ever get tired of it. You and Steve have officially transitioned to Mom & Dad Mode.

Until Benny goes to sleep.

As the golden sun peaks in through the cream colored blinds, you feel Steve’s hand trail down your back and down to your ass to grab it. Releasing a soft moan, you lean into his touch, shifting your weight to one side of the mattress.

“Baby…” he moans into you.

“Should we?” your eyes twinkle. “The baby’s asleep…”

He chuckles into your neck, raspy voice sure to be the end of you if he kept teasing you any longer.

“‘m scared I’ll hurt you.”

“I’ll let you know,” you barter. “I feel ready.”

———

“Fuck, right there, Steve…”

You grip the sheets tightly as Steve rolls his hips into you, his strokes a delicious mix of pleasure and a challenging stretch. And as you bite into your pillow, your eyes rolling up towards the sky, he maintains the pace you love so much, drilling you in, simultaneously massaging your clit while his quenched lips tenderly suction themselves to the crook of you neck.

It’s your first time together, but it feels like you two have done this before. Your bodies are naturally in sync, knowing where your boundaries lie without needing any cues, and knowing exactly how far you both can take it. Daddy Steve, being the gentleman he is, has your entire body mapped out.

“God I love it,” your overstimulated self whimpers, chest to your chin, ankles dangling off of Steve’s broad shoulders as he rails you.

“Oh, I bet you do, Honey.”

His large hand encloses around your neck, thumb hovering over your lips as he fawns over your mewling, vulnerable body.

“You want my cum, baby?” Steve asks. “Want me to fill you to the brim huh? You wanna have my babies?”

“Yes, I want your babies, Steve,” you moan. “Want all of them.”

And as an orgasm spills out of you, Steve’s spills in, coating you with his warm release as you both unravel in the sheets.

“Holy shit, that felt so good,” you whisper, nuzzling your head against his chest. Steve grins from ear to ear when you kiss him on the chin. “Thank you for making me feel so safe and loved.”

“Well when you’re you Honey, you make it so easy,” he blushes.

Steve rests his hands on your ass again, giving it a faint smack. You bite your lip as he pulls you even closer to him. And as the sun sets, you know round two is on the horizon.

“Anyways, when ARE we having another one?”

———

author’s note: i’m noticing some themes with the way i write eddie smut vs steve smut. i totally write eddie as a rough dom and steve is def a soft dom. not complaining tho, those are my headcannons for them 🤭

divider creds: @silkholland , @elfbar-baby

[tofics]

Almost Like You Need Someone

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Song Inspo: Be Someone by Benson Boone

Summary: You, Dean and Sam are fighting America's monsters together. Coming from a long line of hunters, you fit right in with the Winchester boys, with one exception: your character shines as bright as the sun, bringing light even into the darkest corners of every place you go. Dean's never seen anything like it. Before he knows it, he's become infatuated with you...

Word count: 2434 words

Warnings: mention of child death, other than that it's just fluff!

A/N: I came across the song that inspired this one shot yesterday and got to writing pretty much right away. I couldn't help but imagine what could have become of Dean if he'd had a constant source of happiness in his life and this one shot is what came out of that. Just pure fluff. I couldn't stop grinning while writing this 🤪 I integrated the song's lyrics here and there. I highly recommend listening to the song before/during reading. I hope you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! 🤭

Bobby introduced you to the boys, one lonesome duckling getting paired with two other lonesome ducklings. Together, the three of you take on the world as a flock. You’ve hunted together with Dean and Sam for quite some time now. Just one and a half years older than Sam, you’ve grown quite comfortable sandwiched between the two Winchester boys.

The work isn’t easy. More often than not, you return from a hunt covered in gore from head to toe. Blood, intestines, slime - you’ve been doused in it all, and then some. Despite the gruesome nature of your job, you have a way of keeping a light heart around it all. It’s physically challenging - but it keeps you fit. You have no permanent home - but you get to travel the country. You don’t get paid in dollars, but in the gratitude of the people you’ve saved. Whatever happens - you’ll find a way of putting a positive spin on it.

And it’s not just for show either. You’re a good-natured spirit through and through, bringing light and smiles to every room you set a foot into.

It’s one of the many things that have Dean completely puzzled and amazed at the same time. He's never seen anything like it. How someone who grew up in the hunter’s business could be as lighthearted as you are is beyond him, even though he knows your story. Your family has been hunting what goes bumping in the night for generations. It’s this expertise that has brought about your family’s devotion to a happy life: to fight the dark, you need to carry light in your heart. With two parents who doted on you any second they were not wrapped up in a hunt, you got raised in a world where there were monsters under your bed, but also parents by your side to teach you how to deal them. For each terror you fought, your parents would go out of their way to show you not one, but two instances of the good and beautiful in the world. They kept your scale balanced and ignited the spark that grew into the light you now carry within you, spreading it towards anyone you meet. And it’s infectious.

It starts slow. At first, it’s an easy smile that appears on Dean’s face anytime you enter the room without him even being aware of it. It grows wider when you give him a smile of your own, and you do, every day, without fail. He finds himself making jokes just to hear your laugh. It hasn’t yet occurred to him that he wants to be the reason that the corners of your lips turn upwards, that he wants to be the one to put that spark in your eyes.

On long research nights at the library, he gets you coffee, making you giggle when he tells Sam to get his own with a wink at you. It’s disguised as silly banter between brother and brother, not clear favoritism for you.

You connect with victims and their families in your own, heartfelt way that reminds him of the way his mother used to tend to him when he was small. There’s kindness and softness in your voice and more often than not, you end up wiping tears of your face as you’re told about the people the families are grieving. He teases you about it but hopes you never stop.

A small voice appears in his head and questions him when he makes sure not to sit next to you every time you guys go out to eat a diner so as not to raise suspicion. ‘Suspicion of what?’ the small voice says, but he shoves it aside and tells it to shut it, the same way he tells Sammy to quit yapping when he’s going on his nerves.

He shares little about his past but answers honestly when you ask, just not in so many words. Part of him doesn’t like talking about it, even if it’s you. The other part of him wants you to do the talking. Doesn’t matter what it’s about. He wants to know it all. Sam can share one of his literature findings and it goes into one ear and out the other, unless it’s case-related. You, on the other hand, get started on a ramble about the cinematography of a French movie you saw last night, and he finds himself intrigued with your analysis, despite never having cared for any French movie of any kind. Sam is happy to join the conversation, having seen the movie himself, and it’s the first time he gives Dean a look of suspicion. “Since when do you care about this stuff?” Dean grunts. “I don’t. It’s just that she makes it sound a LOT more interesting than you do.” He slaps his baby brother on the back of the head and that’s the end of that. For a while.

You share your time equally with the brothers, naturally flowing from one to the other as the situation sees fit. Never having been one to shy away from body contact, you’re often sprawled out over the two of them on the couches that are slightly too big for two and awkwardly too small for three in your motel rooms. A head leaning on Sam’s shoulder, one leg stretched out over Dean’s lap. Sleeping arrangements usually turn out in your favor, although you never ask to be treated with privilege. The boys insist: you get one side of the bed, always. A quick game of rock, paper, scissors determines who gets the other side and who gets the couch. The longer you three travel together, the more Dean hopes to beat the game, although he loses to Sam more often than he likes. The small voice becomes louder in those nights on the couch, when he’s tossing and turning and telling himself that the only reason he wants to be on one side of that bed is not because you’re on the other side of it, but because the cushions of the sofa are all worn out and uncomfortable and he’ll wake up with a stiff neck. Still, the small sting he feels when he wakes in the morning and sees you sprawled across the bed, your head nestled against Sam’s arm, is undeniable. “Wake up, you two love-birds,” he tends to say and throws a pillow at Sam’s face, never at you. Without fail, Sam throws the pillow back, paired with a grouchy “shut up” and an eye-roll. It makes you laugh, the way the two sometimes bicker like an old married couple. Dean wonders if Sam truly feels as nonchalant about it as he appears or if he enjoys the way you cuddle up to him at night. On the rare occasions that Dean does share the bed with you, you try to keep on your side of the bed after you noticed him stiffen up when you rolled up against him. He often thinks about telling you that you don't have to do that, that you can cuddle up to him in bed the same way you do on the couch, but he doesn't know how without it sounding awkward.

One day, your trio gets a particularly rough case. This time, there's a child among the victims. He sees the family's grief rip into you and bury its claws deep, fueled by your empathy that he's come to see as a strength, rather than a weakness. It takes you longer to recover than it normally does. Despite killing the responsible monster and setting an end to its killing spree, the light that usually shines so bright within you remains dim. Both Sam and Dean feel the affect the child's death has had on you.

Sam, ever the more capable one when it comes to feelings, asks if you want to talk about it. And although it's not Dean's field of expertise, he listens intently. He wants to know about your pain, even if he doesn't know how to take it from you. He lets Sam do most the talking but keeps looking at you through the rearview mirror. That's when he sees it for the first time, the smallest look from behind your eyes when yours meet his - that this is a moment where you need someone to be the light. That night, he gets on Sam's laptop and does some research of his own.

The next day, him and Sam are arguing about the best possible route towards their next stop. On other days, you would intervene, but you remain silent and look out the window, leaving him and Sam to figure it out on their own. Sam is convinced the direction Dean wants to go is a detour, but Dean insists it's the correct way. Half an hour later, the three of you drive through a town's main street when you suddenly come to live in the backseat: you've spotted a pet shop, its window full with a litter of puppies climbing over themselves. You turn to Dean in the driver's seat and ask if you can make a quick stop here. Already, there's a stronger glow in your eyes than there was a moment ago. "Sure, why not," he replies. "I could use a bit of a stretch for my legs."

When you step out to go see the puppies, Sam looks at him with a knowing smile. "That was nice of you." - "I have no idea what you're talking about." Dean gets out of the care and stretches his legs, but Sam is quick to follow him. "Dude." He rests his arms Baby's roof and watches Dean stalk around the car. "You never take driving breaks except to take a piss. I've never once seen you 'stretch your legs' before." He puts his hands in the air, miming air-quotes. "So what? I'm sore from the hunt. Son of a bitch had me sprinting." Dean shrugs and leans against the hood of the car, apparently all done with his mini-workout. Sam just smiles that knowing smile again. "Sure. Whatever you say." A couple of minutes later, you return to the car. Your light is not back to full capacity quite yet, but there's color in your cheeks and crinkles by your eyes, leftover from the smile that's still lingering on your lips. "How was it?" Sam asks when you sit down on the backseat. You lean forward and grip the edges of their seat. "So. Many. Puppies," you say in a breathy voice. "Cuteness overload. I think I died and went to heaven for a moment there." Both the brothers chuckle and you settle into your seat while Dean gets Baby back on the road. Sam glances in the rearview mirror and sees you have resumed your position at the window, but you seem more light-weighted than you did just a few minutes ago. Another glance at his big brother and he smiles to himself. Bringing the smile count in the car to three, Dean is wearing his satisfied smile proudly.

From there on, Sam subtly removes himself from your trio now and then. He suggests you and Dean talk to a victim's friend while he'll speak to the professor they think could help them. During another late night at yet another library, he purposely sits diagonally from you, leaving the chair opposite and next to you open. He offers to get dinner, leaving you and Dean at the motel room the three of you have booked for the night.

Dean doesn't notice. He's too busy finding the balance between what he wants and what he thinks is appropriate. What he wants is you, to be near you, all the time. The light in you is addicting. It's such a stark contrast to everything he's known for most of his life. When his mother passed, the darkness that took over John and consumed him also infected Dean. He did his best to shield his baby brother from it, and sometimes, when he looks at Sam, he can see that his efforts weren't in vain. The youngest Winchester has an optimism about him that Dean never found himself. He's happy for his brother. It's never crossed his mind than in the process of protecting Sam, he never took care of himself. His own twilight never seemed so troublesome, he got used to it after all and eventually knew his way around, the way you can walk through your own house in the pitch-black of night and not knock into anything because you know where everything is placed. He didn't need to light a match or even a candle, it was always just bright enough to make out the outline of the furniture. That is, until he met you, and you shone so bright that, for a brief moment, his insights got illuminated, like the headlights of a passing car briefly dancing across a room at night, and suddenly, the furniture turned from grey to color.

And now he needs more. He didn't know how intoxicating a person could be, until he met you. Suddenly, a lit match isn't enough, neither is a candle. He needs your floodlights, the way a ship needs a beacon. He's drawn to you like a moth to the flame.

And sure, he could live without you. He's lived in the semi-darkness for so long and it's familiar, but now he's seen color, and fuck, he wants it.

But more than that, he wants to be someone for you. He sees what you do for the world and wants to give it back to you, doubled, tripled, quadroupled. He wants to be your someone to have, someone to hold, your somewhere to go when nights get cold. He wants to be the one to sweep you off your feet.

However, wanting one thing and doing it can be two different things at opposite ends of the spectrum. The more he's drawn to you, the less he finds the words to tell you so. 'What if's cross his mind. What if you don't feel the same? What if, by admitting how he feels, he ruins what you guys have? It keeps him up at night while he wishes that he was the reason to keep you up.

It doesn't seem so hopeless, though. From time to time, you give him the smallest look from behind your eyes, and it's almost like you need someone. And every single time, without fail, he thinks that he could be that someone.

Feedback is always appreciated! If you have any requests, feel free to send them my way. I'm always happy to practice my writing! :)

Find part 2 here! - Masterlist

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

I really liked that one ask from before where the MC paired up with an NRC boy to do the flour baby project, could I ask for a repeat of that but with Silver, Vil, Floyd, Idia, and Ortho?

Floyd Leech:

You cannot leave your flour baby alone with Floyd as it will be in harm's way; he convinced you of this even more when he began talking about survival of the fittest, and his other siblings that never made it through the gauntlet. It practically feels like Floyd is the one you’re really looking after, especially when your attention leaves him for even a second as you tried to focus on the baby. You think the teacher must hold a grudge against you to put you in this situation but you’re determined to turn him into a father figure (and you might die trying).

Idia Shroud:

Idia wished the school would get with the times and just give a game simulation type project rather than making him lug around a flour sack in a diaper all day. It was like a Magikarp holding an Everstone, doomed to stay in its useless state forever. It almost led him to an existential crisis as he had a nightmare of himself turning in a bag of flour, never able to enjoy trolling online or flexing how much smarter he was when it came to technology ever again. You do help ground him (and perhaps add a different stress) by being closer with him, this surprise event giving him the perfect excuse to spend time with you despite the flour sack in the room.

Ortho Shroud:

Ortho doesn’t get the point of the assignment as the sack of flour could never properly simulate taking care of a real child. He’s excited to do this project with you thought, listing off every parenting tip he could find until you practically thought you were in a reality where you were pregnant (regardless of how capable of that you really were). He’s fiercely protective of his flour baby, glaring (and nearly vaporizing) an innocent school chef who mistook his baby as a misplaced bag of flour. Ortho even offered up a tearful goodbye, keeping his fond memories of raising his baby with you locked away somewhere safe where he’d never forget.

Silver:

Silver takes the project seriously, but his sleep prone habits leave you a little worried your sweet flour child may be kidnapped by a group of birds and never seen again. He dutifully keeps it strapped to him while patrolling, sometimes even forgetting it's there as he questions why everyone keeps looking at him. This project is your first glance at the sweeter side of Silver, leaving you enamored with a man who showed genuine kindness and care to even an inanimate object.

Vil Schoenheit:

Vil loathed the thought of lugging flour around all day, not thrilled with the concept it might dirty his uniform at some point. He’s not about to get a failing grade either, showing a determination to glam his baby up. You mostly follow his lead on this one for the sake of his happiness and your sanity, knowing he wouldn’t go too far. You almost found the small dog outfits he put on your flour sack child cute. It’s like they were having their own father/child bonding time, with Vil even showing them his favorite films to share a little moment together (before he felt entirely too stupid and tried to forget about it).

[ninapi]

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ Family ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

Premise: Raising someone else's child is one thing, but raising your own while dealing with your insecurities could be quite a task, especially for a man like Satoru, but the moment he saw the baby his life turned upside down.

Word Count: 3104

Note: This is the third installment for a short series of mine, they all have different titles because I'm weird like that lol, but you can read the first part here, and the second one here.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

When Satoru took Megumi in, he didn’t have to do much besides giving him financial support and make sure he had everything he needed as a growing child.

He was already the person he is to this day, and Saturu had very little to add to this. So when he realized what having his own baby was going to be, his already existing demons started to kick in.

While is normally the mother the one who tends to spiral into despair thinking of the future of their newborn and the changes impacting daily life, Satoru had more than one reason to feel uneasy.

He loved his girl and his unborn child, there was no doubt there; but the implications of being a parent were heavy for a man like him.

Dealing with the elders was one thing, but being a good dad was a very different one.

All he was good at was fighting curses, that’s what he came to this world to do, but having to think of how to be a good dad was definitely more scary than a special grade curse.

Megumi was way more ready than he was, in fact, without Megumi your pregnancy would have been quite the nightmare. But he was always checking up on you, helping you with tidying the apartment, even took you to the hospital check ups and went in the doctor’s office with you.

Some even thought he was your son, to Megumi’s displeasure. 

Satoru on the other hand tended to flee when things like this came upon, excuses were easy to come by when you’re the strongest sorcerer. But in reality he was beating himself over and over again for his own behavior while sitting on a cliff.

He wanted this, he wanted to be with you, wanted to have a family with you. Or so he thought at first, but what does it even mean to have a family? His was anything but conventional and he had no idea where to start.

You were his life now, he didn’t care about the future of this world if he was being honest, he never did really, all he wanted was to take you to a Polynesian island and live in a fancy luxury tree house with you, the baby and Megumi. But life wasn’t as easy, he had to deal not just with the damn old men hunting his every step, but also his responsibilities in the school, he couldn’t just disappear, not with another teacher and a top tier student tagging along.

He wanted to do better, be a good husband, a good dad, not just to his baby but to Megumi as well, he felt like he’s been failing everyone he truly cares for and that was a feeling like no other, one he could live his entire life without encountering it ever again.

But time for cowarding around ended sooner than he expected as time runs extremely fast when you don’t want to deal with your problems.

He got a call from Megumi, he was at the hospital, water came out of you and you were tugging on his hair while screaming in pain, you were certainly dying so he had to come fast. It all sounded like a nightmare to Satoru, he truly thought you were dying, he’s never seen a pregnant woman on the later stage of pregnancy deal with it, and Megumi either, so they were both panicking on a bench this very same moment.

“I can’t lose her, Megumi…what am I going to do if she dies? What if the baby dies too? What if I have to raise the baby on my own? I can’t do this…I would rather be killed by a curse…maybe I should turn off my infinity…yes, someone would come and kill me as well, then we would all die together…” a loud smack could be heard rumbling over every wall of the hospital. He’s never seen Megumi this angry before, “Can you stop and be a god damn adult for once in your life? (Y/N) needs you. She’s in labor right now, delivering your baby! She’s in so much pain, things are coming out of her, she’s probably so scared right now, and all you’re thinking about are ways of getting yourself killed!”

Satoru’s cheek was quickly getting red and swollen, how did he even manage to touch him that easily? 

Zenin’s are truly a terrifying clan.

“Why does nobody care about me being scared? I can be scared too you know? I know I’m the strongest sorcerer, but that doesn’t make me the strongest husband or the strongest dad…”

Megumi was left speechless, he never thought the great Gojo Satoru would admit being scared, “Do you think I’m not scared? I love her ok? She might be your girl, the mother of your child and what not, but she isn’t just a crush to me, she’s also the only mother figure I’ve had, the only person who truly understands me and cares for me. I don’t want her to die!” tears were falling down Megumi’s cheeks as he vented all his worries out of his very constricted chest. He’s the one who’s been by your side during your whole pregnancy, what if this was his fault? What if you were in so much pain because he didn’t take good care of you? Those words kept flooding his head and Satoru was just as lost as he was in that moment, he didn’t know how to reassure his adoptive son and was in need of reassurance himself.

That was until loud cries could be heard coming from the room you were being kept in.

“What was that-“

Megumi’s ears perked, he couldn’t hear you at all, why was it so loud, he needed to confirm you were fine. “I don’t know, who’s crying? That’s not her, I’m sure…”

“Of course is not her, you idiot…” the door opened up to a very tired looking nurse, her gown was covered in what looks like blood wiped out not long ago, Satoru’s face paling the moment he saw her.

“Is…I-Is (Y/N)…” his voice was cracking, all his memories with you going into his brain like a movie.

“She’s fine, she’s currently holding your son, would you like to go in? She’s asking for Megumi, I assume that’s you?” 

“No, that’s me! Can I go in too then?” the nurse was very confused but nodded anyways. Megumi ran inside the room, falling down to his knees when he saw you smiling, holding a little bundle to your chest, “Oh thank god….” 

“Gumi, my love, come meet your baby brother!” you looked so tired, yet so happy, he thought he’d never get to see your beautiful smile ever again.

“Are you ok? Is the pain gone?”

“She’s fine kid, giving birth is no easy fit, hope this experience helps you respect women for what their worth. Men would never be able to give birth, they’d die within minutes.” the nurse’s words made you chuckle, it was true after all, especially for your spoiled boys.

“Toru? I didn’t know you were here, I thought you were at work! Come meet your son~” Satoru was still by the door, he thought he’d lost you, the very same feeling he felt that one day you almost die in front of his eyes, just that this time felt even more real as he saw the dried blood on the nurse. He didn’t know how to react, relief was present that’s for sure, but he was also terrified, he was happy to hear you were fine, but you were holding his son right this moment. He had a son now, officially, he is a dad now.

“Babe?” the confused look in your face made him move from his spot, he couldn’t put more stress on you, not after you had to deal with all that just to bring his son to this world.

“So a boy, huh? I thought it’d be a girl…” Megumi really wanted the baby to be a girl, to look just like you so he could snuggle the baby’s cute cheeks and spoil her rotten.

“Mhm, I haven’t named him yet, I wanted Toru to see him first…” Satoru was now standing beside you, his eyes not going down just yet, though his range of vision was so wide, he could see a tiny hand moving out and about and it made it so hard for him to keep ignoring him.

Once he finally got the courage to look at his son, his brain released a triple shot of dopamine right to his heart.

How can a newborn be this cute? They’re usually all red and wrinkly, not at all pretty. But his son…he got his blue eyes and silvery hair, but his face, he looked just like you. The cutest thing he’s ever seen. “Is he…” the moment he opened his mouth the baby started wailing loudly, startling his father.

You were rocking the baby from side to side making him know everything was fine, “Sweetie, c’mon hold your son.” 

“But he’s crying (Y/N)! How do I make it stop?” you set the child in his arms, once their eyes met the baby stopped crying, a lil yawn leaving his lips, this causing Satoru to smile. “Oh, I think he’s just tired…aren’t you my beautiful son?”

“It’s a combined effort of both sides after all, he did have to help mama a lot during the birthing process.” The nurse was finally ready to leave you to rest and needed to take the child with her. “He needs to come with me, Gojo-san. But I need a name so I can set him in the room with the other newborns.”

“I was thinking of naming him Suguru…you know…to honor your frie-“

“No.”

“But baby…”

“I said no.” his stern tone of voice made your heart sink, you thought he’d be happy about this, it was some sort of a surprise even.

Megumi saw darkness loom over Satoru’s eyes and thought of intervening. “Shion.”

“What was that, love?” 

“Shion, my brother’s name I mean..” the fact that he referred to the baby as his brother made you feel so much love, even Satoru’s face softened at his words.

“Gojo Shion it is then.” the nurse took the baby from Satoru’s arm and he’s never felt this empty before. “Do you really need to take him? I mean he’s a newborn, is not like he needs friends right now. Wouldn’t it be better for him to hang out with his family than with other babies?” his reasoning was beyond cute, even to the stoic nurse. 

“Look sir, the child isn’t going to a baby party, he needs a check up and that’s the process in general. If everything goes out well you’ll be able to take them home in a couple of days. Now if you excuse me..” The baby was half asleep and his little hand was out of the blanket still and Satoru felt like his life lost all purpose, his son needed him so much right now, he needed to be tucked cozily under his blanket and there was nothing he could do to help him…he felt completely useless…

Megumi was cleaning your face with a wet towel, making sure your pillow was all fluffed properly, while Satoru spiraled into sadness.

“Can you get the blanket in her baby bag? There’s also some warm socks in the front pocket.” 

Satoru could feel Megumi’s murderous stare and that made him go back to earth, “Yeah sure. Socks…socks…here.” 

Megumi just stared at his hand with so much hate, yet he didn’t know what he did wrong this time. “What?”

“(Y/N)’s socks, not the baby’s socks…”

“Oh! Right…” he needed to get himself together, you needed him just as much as his son did.

“Here, my love.” he got your feet covered with your favorite fluffy socks, then leaned to kiss your head lovingly. Megumi covered you with the blanket he brought for you and went over the snacks he packed to replenish your strength.

“Isn’t he the most beautiful baby you’ve ever seen?” you sounded so tired, exhausted even, but to him you were the most wonderful and beautiful women in this universe. The mother of his son.

“Of course he is, he’s my son~” that made you chuckle. 

“We are parents now…how does that make you feel, Toru?” that question hunted him for months, but now he was ready to answer it truthfully. “I’m scared…I don’t know if I can be a good dad…But I’m also the happiest man alive…you’ve given me so much…I want to be the man you and my son need me to be…” his face wasn’t one of happiness, it was more one of realization. 

He felt so much…it was overwhelming. 

But the moment he locked eyes with his son, he just knew it, this was it, this was the real reason he came to this world, to bring his son to life, to give you and his son a happy life full of beautiful memories.

“Gojo-sensei…I think she needs rest…” you were giving him a soft loving smile, your thumb rubbing the back of his hand while he processed what just happened. 

“I’ll stay here, you go back to the school.” he wasn’t there for you when you needed him most, when you were confused and in pain, when you needed his love and care. But he was here now, and he wouldn’t let that happen again. 

He grabbed one of the chairs by the wall and brought it next to your bed, his hand reaching for yours once more before dimming the lights, “I’ll stay here with you, baby. Just rest.”

Megumi left after making sure you had everything you needed with the promise of coming back next morning with a fresh change of clothing for his guardian.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══

Having a newborn baby in the house was a whole adventure, at least according to Satoru.

He had to learn everything about babies in a couple of days and lets just say books aren’t as reliable in the subject.

Babies cry a lot and figuring out what the problem was isn’t as easy as he had hoped for.

Not only that but your nipples were sore from breastfeeding causing you to frown all day, Megumi was in a bad mood because the baby didn’t let him sleep at night and he ended up stepping on a dirty diaper this morning, twice, barefoot.

While to others this might sound awful, Satoru was living his best life.

His son was just as in love with him as he was and he was livid. Putting him to bed was his self assigned job and his favorite part of the day. He’d go on talking forever explaining how his technique works and all he had to do to perfect it, of course his son didn’t understand a thing, but his voice really soothed the child so they both loved their bonding time.

Megumi would sneak in your room and sleep while hugging one of your legs while Satoru took the child out to get some sunlight in, even if he denied it, he was very much jealous of his baby brother, he just didn’t get as much time with you as before and he had no excuses to be babied like the infant was now. He wanted more and didn’t know how to ask for it, so even if you and Satoru were aware of his sneaky nap times, you both appeared ignorant to the teen.

Being a mother suited you so beautifully though, there was nothing Satoru loved more than seeing you with his son in your arms. The way your loving eyes landed on his little face, the kissy sounds you made at him to make him giggle, it was all just so perfect to him.

And being a father suited him just as much. The baby carrier he had hanging from his chest daily and the way he would always hold one of his tiny feet in one of his hands as he walked by proudly was the cutest thing this world had to offer. 

He was a happy man.

Of course, him parading around with his child made the elders realize what was going on pretty fast.

Thankfully the child didn’t display any sign of inheriting infinity, at least not yet, something he had shown almost since birth, which made them back off quite fast with the promise of him trying to conceive further children with you.

Of course, he didn’t want this. Not because he didn’t want more babies, but because it terrified him knowing one of them could very well have it and be taken away from you. The thought of his son being exploited the way he was as a child was a constant nightmare for him.

But reality plays dirty tricks on you when you least expect them..

You being such a cute mama and having those swollen breasts full of milk caused…unexpected results…getting you pregnant once more before Shion even turned four months of age.

For someone who didn’t understand the concept of family, he was quite good at making one.

His first family member being the lovely teenage boy who loved the mother of his children more than anything in this world, more than him to be quite honest. But he regretted nothing, Megumi was as important in this family as little Shion was and the little baby girl inside your growing belly.

The family kept growing at an exponential rate, and this world was anything but safe. But having the strongest sorcerer by your side did help quite a lot, specially now that he’d gotten the titles of strongest dad and strongest husband to the list as he very much wished and thought never would.

His family was not conventional, it was broken even, starting with him.

But it was perfect the way it was.

He chose his own family after all.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

Masterlist

[gabriel-shutterson]

I don’t think I’ve…. Ever seen this talked about before. So I wanted to have a little discussion on the two people who get lumped in together as Light simps, but are actually pretty similar:

Misa, Mikami, and What Sets Them Apart

So what are the similarities? I mean, for one, their love of Light/Kira. Both of them were obsessive in their love for him, even getting to the point where the fandom considers them yanderes. Also, both developed strong feelings for him before even meeting him. On the same note, both of them were secondary Kiras. Ultimately, both ended up being major setbacks to Light, with Mikami even being the reason Light ‘loses.’ And, of course, in the anime only— both succumb to suicide upon Light’s fall from grace. If you’re not reading terribly far into it, you might subscribe to the saying I’ve heard several times: ‘Mikami is Misa with impulse control.’

But that’s not the thing that sets them apart. I mean, Misa does have impulse control; however, I’m getting at something bigger. There are two main differences between Misa and Mikami, aside from appearance and personality.

The first of these two things is their connection to Kira’s ideology. We get an entire half episode/chapter dedicated to Mikami’s backstory— he was bullied as a child, noticed how much better the classroom was without bullies, and devoted himself to saving the underdogs because he was one an underdog too. Blah blah blah. His connection is personal; in fact, his ideology is almost the same as Kira’s.

But then you look at Misa’s connection, and suddenly, Mikami’s relationship with Kira doesn’t seem so personal. While he RELATES to the victims of the people Kira kills, Misa IS a victim. Her parents were killed, but the justice system failed her and let the killer go. Kira was the only one who gave them their comeuppance. Mikami respects Kira, but Misa actually feels as if she owes him her love and gratitude. In the end, this is why their second difference is so prevalent— Misa’s personal connection to Kira is far deeper than the one Mikami has.

And the aforementioned second reason is the fact that Mikami is still able to become disillusioned, while Misa is not. Consider Chapter 106 (? I think) of the manga. You know, the one my pfp is from. The scum panel. This guy.

Great panel. He’s so angy. Anyways, yeah, that’s Mikami calling Light out on his bullshit. The same Mikami who was about to kill everyone in Yellow Box for Light, just moments before. Of course, this is because Light was caught, pinned the blame on Mikami, was shot, and begged for help. All things a God… wouldn’t do. Mikami had gotten to a point where he would rather give up completely, let Kira die and himself get arrested, than help the man writhing in a pool of his own blood on the floor. He was disenchanted. It’s a big moment of character growth for him, that the anime unfortunately erased.

Misa, however, stuck with Light through EVERYTHING. After all of the emotional manipulation, the entire Yotsuba arc, the multiple times he forced her to give up her memories for the good of the ‘new world,’ his successes, his failures— Misa was always there. Nothing could have changed her feelings on him.

Is this because she has an official knowledge score of 3/10, while Mikami has a rating of 8/10? I don’t think so. I think this circles back to their personal connections to Kira. You’d be a lot more apt to stick around with someone who actually brought justice to your family than someone who you simply believe represents all of your ideals. Also, Misa had more personal connection to Light as well— she had seen him face to face much more often than Mikami had.

I think some of this also comes down to the way Misa and Mikami interact— or expect to interact— with people. As someone in the modeling industry, who often sexualizes herself for just the slightest bit of appreciation, Misa clearly doesn’t get treated with respect frequently. Therefore, she’s much more apt to appreciate someone who at least values her for what she can do, and not what she looks like. Mikami, meanwhile, tends to isolate himself and only maintain shallow relationships (such as with Kiyomi, whom he really only talked to about politics— and rarely, too). Because of that, the only interactions with others he really experiences are through his job. Considering he’s a relatively high-profile prosecutor, he likely anticipated getting treated with respect and being looked up to. Thus, he probably won’t take bullshit easily. But I digress.

Both Misa and Mikami are both super interesting characters whom the fandom often boil down into mindless members of the Kira harem. I think they are very similar, yes; however, these two aspects to their character set them apart. In fact, I don’t think swapping their roles would even allow the story to play out in the same way— I think that, if Mikami had come to Light’s house to meet the Kira he loved, he wouldn’t have cooperated with him at all. They are not at all the same character, because their motivations and interactions with Light are totally different.

Tbh I think the best conclusion to this post is to say that they should have got together, beat Light with hammers, and been best friends forever. Yeah

[farfromstrange]

the grudge | Matt Murdock x Reader

PART 4 of The Vault

See this post for more information on my Valentine's Day Special & Follower Celebration, but these fics can be read separately!

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Summary: You think back on your relationship with your father after his death, and Matt is there to put some things into perspective and take care of you.

Warnings: Angst, 100% self-indulgent (this fic is the definition of that word), death of a parent, daddy issues (not the sexy kind), song fic, conflicting emotions, hints at child abuse (mostly emotional), and everything that comes with it

Word Count: 1.4k

A/n: I was sad and angry when I wrote this. Growing older, I started realizing that the things my father did when I was a child shaped me, and that it will always stand between us. And when I heard Olivia's song "the grudge" for the first time, it hit me hard. So, this is how this fic came to be. Some of you may identify with this and recognize some of the feelings I've worked through with this. It may also trigger you, so please proceed with caution.

His favorite flowers were peonies. 

It’s a detail you’re not quite sure why you chose to remember. 

You can’t remember the last time he put in the effort to remember one of your favorites—because he never listened. Everything you once told him entered one ear and came out the other without processing your words. If he simply wasn’t capable of feeling empathy or if he chose not to because you were “too complicated,” you’re not sure. You’re not even sure if you want to know. 

Well, even if you did, it’s too late now. 

His favorite flowers were peonies, and yet, staring at his gravestone now, you wonder how a person can call a flower that resembles love and happiness their favorite and be incapable of those very same emotions at the same time. 

He never loved you. At some point, he stopped telling you. You got older, and you realized that fighting for a relationship that has been broken from the start is of no use. When someone can’t love you back, it’s not worth it to love them. The disappointment will only break you. That is what you have tried telling yourself for years, but where he lacked empathy, you’ve always had too much of it, and you quickly realized that you are incapable of hating him to the extent you wish you did. 

Still, even though you can’t hate him, you do resent him. You resent him for never caring the same way you saw other children being loved. You resent him for not sticking around. For not remembering the most essential details about you. For not putting in more effort. For not believing in you when you needed it most. For replacing you. For hurting your mother. For hurting you. There are many reasons you could hate the man who called himself your father, but you still can’t hate him. He failed you when you were just a child, and you still can’t hate him. What does that say about you? Resenting someone while you still love them; is that even possible? Or is it just the confusion that consumes you?

You’re not sure how you’re supposed to grieve the death of someone you once claimed you wouldn’t miss when he died, but it does hurt. It hurts, and you hate it.

Just because he was dead to you doesn’t make this twisted love you have for him go away, you realize that now. And now that he is actually dead, you’re not sure where to with yourself. Or your anger. Or your resentment. 

You wonder if you should have done more to get closure before he died. You wonder if there would have been any way to salvage what was broken between you if you both had just tried a little harder. But you were a child, and then you grew into a broken adult, and you did all you could have done. The blame is normal, someone told you once. It gets better though. It is supposed to get better. 

If it’s supposed to get better though, why does it still hurt so damn much?

The gravel next to your scrunches underneath a second set of boots. A hand finds your own. It’s larger, more calloused than your own. 

“Are you okay?” Matt asks softly. 

He knows how badly it hurts to lose a parent. The only difference is that his father treated him well for the first nine years of his life before he died. 

You wonder if your father was even just a little sorry or if he simply didn’t realize how shitty his behavior was, even though many people have told him over the years. 

You blink, the tears in your eyes an all too familiar companion. “Yeah,” you lie. “I’m fine.”

Your heartbeat doesn’t waver, but he still knows you’re lying. 

The man who was supposed to love you the most in this world did little to show you that. Matt is the first man who has ever shown you unconditional love and known you in a way that you can’t possibly put into words. Your father was insecure, too insecure to love you in the way you were supposed to be loved, and in the process of trying to survive through his struggles, he scarred you for life. 

He wrapped his hand around your heart and broke it without realizing it. 

“You know, I tried to understand why he treated me like he did,” your voice tears through the silence in a monotone line. 

Matt’s head tilts in your direction. “Some people are very insecure and unhappy with themselves,” he says. It’s more of a matter-of-fact statement, but he says it with such sincerity that it hits you right in your feelings.

“I know that, but–”

He cuts you off. He knows you blame yourself. You say you don’t, but every time you do, you’re lying. He knows you’re lying. “When a parent is like that, the person who is the least to blame for any of it is their child,” Matt tells you. “You were just a child, sweetheart.”

No matter how hard you try, you can’t let it go. 

“I think…” You take a deep breath. “I think he wanted a baby, not a child. And when I grew up, and he realized I wasn’t as easy as he wanted me to be, he thought removing himself from the narrative would fix everything,” you say. Your voice is still monotone.

He doesn’t deserve your tears. Still, you cry. You can’t help but cry because, in a way, you loved him, and now that he’s dead, it hurts. 

In silence, there is suffering, and in suffering there is always at least an ounce of unresolved anger. In your case, it is a lot more. And you don't have the strength to fight or forgive. You’re not there yet, and you probably won’t ever get there. Some people make it look easy, but closure and moving on from the agony of your childhood is harder than it may sound.

Another heavy breath leaves your lips. It weighs like a ton of bricks and drags the mood further down. “I don’t like holding grudges.” The cold wind whips you across the face.

“I know.” Matt squeezes your hand in his. 

“I can’t not hold it against him,” you continue. “We were both hurt, and hurt people hurt people, but…those cuts were never equal.”

He shakes his head. When you’re losing yourself in this sea of emotions that you don’t quite understand yet, he’s there to help you keep your head above water. He’s there to help you breathe when it gets a little too hard. And he’s there to be your common sense because yours doesn’t work as well as it used to.

“You have every right to hold a grudge. He made you believe that you aren’t worthy of love,” he says. “Yes, hurt people hurt people, but that doesn’t make it okay that he hurt you in a way no child should ever be hurt.”

He has a way of bringing you down to earth. Your father sucked at talking about what he was feeling or thinking; he sucked at finding the right words because he hardly ever believed in them. He made you believe that you weren’t worthy of love—emphasis on weren’t. When Matt came around, all of that changed. Now, you do believe you are worthy of love. His love, anyway. 

Though every time you think you’re not enough, his voice—your father’s voice—is still there. You can’t escape him, even now that he is dead. He will always live rent-free in your mind, and the damage he caused will always affect the way you see things.

“I love you,” Matt’s gentle voice breaks through the fog like a siren’s song. “He was wrong about so many things, and I think he died knowing that by not trying hard enough, he lost you a long time ago.”

 Your teary eyes are mirrored in his glasses, finally looking up at him. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” you ask.

He shakes his head, but there is a small smile playing on his lips. “There is nothing that can make this better, but there is a fine line between love and hate. You can’t let it destroy you.”

It’s true. You don’t want to turn into the bitter one. If you do, you are no better than him, and you will never know what it is like to be free. 

You wipe your cheeks. “I want to go home,” your wish is clear in the crispy morning air. 

Matt tugs you closer to him. “Okay,” his lips press to your temple, “let’s go home.”

Matt Murdock Angst Tag List: @acharliecoxedfan @gpenguin666 @linamarr @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @thychuvaluswife @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @thatonegamefish @amberritonicole @pigeonmama

[malleux]

Hello! I’m kinda new to requesting and your blog, but I have read some of your works. Loving the way you write Albedo! Could you do childhood friends to lovers headcannons with Albedo please? 😋 Thank you and I hope your having a nice day/night <3

childhood besties.

-> albedo x gn!reader

-> warnings: not canon compliant, no use of y/n

[a/n]: i thought about this request for a while to try and make it match up with albedo’s little connections with khaenri’ah, but that was incredibly difficult so he’s just a sweet normal boy here

You and Albedo became friends because of your parents. Your parents were coworkers and close friends with Albedo’s, so whenever they hung out you and Albedo did too.

You took for first steps together, your first words were “Bedo” and Albedo’s wasn’t far off from being a baby’s version of your own nickname.

As toddlers and children, you and Albedo remained inseparable. Even after it showed that Albedo had quite a higher aptitude for alchemy and science while you preferred to stay away from that confusing route, sticking to other hobbies.

If you ever argued, it wasn’t for long. Albedo had a lot of emotional intelligence for a child and was able to not only see past petty things but help you do the same. He’d apologize or explain his feelings and would urge you to do the same.

The entirety of Mondstadt knew of you both. Where one was, the other wasn’t far away. Your parents even worked with the schools to keep you both in the same classes through primary school.

You were both subject to the teasing of your peers through adolescence and your teenage years, your friends joking about Albedo being your boyfriend or how you’re going to marry him one day. The only thing you could do was flush and try to deny it, but even you knew that there was a high probability of that happening.

Even as best friends, Albedo was your everything and you were his.

As you became teenagers and eventually young adults, it became hard to see anyone else romantically. You’d been on your fair share of dates, but your reputation with Albedo was widely known and not a lot of men really enjoyed how close you two were. It was insecurity at its finest— you were not willing to give up your best friend for a man you weren’t as close with.

Many failed dates later, not that it really bothered you, you began to realize that the only person you could really see in your life like that was Albedo. Like, you definitely didn’t want to give in to the rumors going around Mondstadt about the two of you being destined to be together, but it just felt right whenever you let yourself indulge in the idea.

You were SO NERVOUS about it though. You’d been friends for so long that the next step was scary. Would Albedo even want that?

Little do you know, he for sure did.

Albedo wasn’t one to go on dates or mess around with anyone. Firstly, he just wasn’t too interested in the dating scene. Second, he was too interested in you. Flirting with someone else— hell, even talking to someone else— felt like he was betraying you and he just had no desire for that.

His world revolved around you and you alone, even if he believed that you didn’t return that sentiment.

So imagine his surprise when you stood before him in Dragonspine, nose red from the cold and cheeks red from embarrassment, stuttering out this poorly put together confession. You were lucky that he just knew you well enough to put together the pieces.

The gentle smile that took over his face once he realized gave you the confidence to say the rest of your little spiel with more confidence and Albedo let you finish before agreeing to go with you back to Mondstadt for a dinner. Your first date.

The people of Mondstadt just knew the minute you two walked into the town hand-in-hand. They were right, after all.

[joyfullyacat]

Sneaking Affections

hehehoho, based on @cacaocheri 's latest work here (i realized i dont think i actually wrote a kissing scene yet so thats wat inspired this- just a lil over 1k words) CW: none?? p sure- sneaking kisses and the like, fluffy!!

-

You like to think of yourself as patient. After all, you signed up to work with children all day in an establishment made to entertain and service others. So you dealt with a number of things in the day-to-day work week.

Yet you found that patience being tested, not by bratty kids or by badgering parents but by your very own coworker you happened to enjoy just a bit more than platonically.

He knew it too. Shared it even!

Sun, the daycare attendant, was an absolute charmer. A shining delight much like his namesake with a warmth to him that made your heart flutter, especially watching how he handled toddlers of all needs yet he had one glaring flaw.

He had zero idea how to handle affections. Physical or verbal, he’d often try to weasel out of them or redirect them to you if not outright avoid you entirely.

You had tried your best to be careful, respectful about the boundaries he was seemingly setting up. Just grazes of the hand here or there along his hands, et cetera.

Moon, his “brother” that shared the same body with Sun, was similar yet somehow he was all the more impish and teasing about it, downplaying your feelings entirely into seeming nothing more than some infatuation. Your closing hours with him often were bittersweet.

Which at first stung - but now it has only inspired a fire within you to get what you wanted out of him. Out of them as a whole.

A kiss. They had begun to dodge your hugs at this point! So you were upping the ante. They wouldn't give you a straight answer?

You'd pry it from them instead.

Now would be the perfect time to do it, the last child had been picked up, you had been on your best behavior the last few days - sparing the animatronic from hugs and touches and so on… Which, thinking about it, may have made them suspicious of you but you’d see if your plan would backfire or not.

It’s just you and him and your cleaning supplies, you had thought all day on what you’d say to him to get his attention and get him in range without necessarily inviting him over.

“Hey, Sun?” You begin, looking up from your hunched position to the animatronic and smile when he looks down at you from where he stands, seemingly none the wiser to your antics.

He’s sweetly lit up by the blaring lights of the daycare. It makes him shine, almost appearing ethereal as his rays practically glow in the surroundings.

With a spin of his rays, his smile brightens, “What do you need, Daydream?” 

The nickname never fails to make you giddy inside and the warmth in your cheeks only serves as motivation. “I was just wondering… Oh-” You stand, reaching a hand towards him some, “You got something on your face…”

Your words spur quite the reaction, his rays doing an endearing flex outwards in his surprise before he’s all but putting his face right into yours, his own hands coming up towards his head, minding the rays while he touches around.

“Where is it - oh tell me, please? Did I miss a sticker? Could you get it? Please, oh tell me it isn’t marker-” His voice box cuts out with a sharp note as you lean in and it seems you’re caught in your ruse as he shoots back upright.

Now it was undeniable, despite his flirtings and jests - with Moon’s teases and prods. They were avoiding you. Getting close to you.

It’s left you stunned and wide-eyed, practically short circuiting, leaned forward with your lips pressed into a thin line now as you stare just past Sun instead of at him.

Meanwhile, Sun was having quite the internal dilemma.

“Shouldn’t have done that, Sunny… They look ready to cry.” An echoing snicker puts the pin in the teasing words, “I wonder how long it’ll take for them to learn you don’t like sharing. Can’t hold them from me for much longer, can you?”

If you weren’t actively in front of him right this second, Sun would be having quite the one-sided verbal argument with the other AI in his head presently. He could definitely share! He teaches kids how to after all and oh-...

Sun wasn’t sure how he felt about the look you suddenly shot at him, utterly determined to do something with a fire in your eyes that has him stunlocked where he stands.

“Oh, you’ve done it now! Their claws are bared, look at them. I’m trembling in my bells!” Moon outright cackles now, absolutely ready to see how this would turn out.

On your end, you’ve had enough. 

Grabbing him at his forearms, he hardly has the time to react to you pulling him down more to your level. He is a hapless mess to your whims, barely getting out a “Daydream wha-” before your face is smooshed against his in the best way you can offer for a kiss while on your tippy toes with closed eyes.

He goes stiff as stone, the once pliable animatronic is now no more than a nifty marble statue and you can feel his inner mechanical workings go into overdrive. A distinct vibration that holds an all-too-audible hum in the air around you.

Maybe you should have asked - eased him into this and just as you’re pulling away to apologize, your hands peeling away with a lingering touch, Sun moves.

A hand carefully cradles your jaw, his thumb just at your chin to coax you into staying in place while his other hand settles respectfully on your waist and he’s pushing your head back with his own.

In another moment, the hand at your waist is digging into the skin and carefully guiding you backwards.

Step…

By…

Step…

The kiss remains unbroken, your eyes flutter open just to see his half-lidded gaze peer back down towards you.

Bump.

You’re up against the wall now and it’s a real good thing you chose the closing hours of the daycare to initiate this scheme as you have just enough room to pull your head away. 

The look of unabashed adoration has you floored and for a moment you’re left floundering, that confidence in you finally burnt up and all that was left was quivering ashes. “Sun I-”

Sun, still holding your face tenderly, hushes you simply as his other hand abandons its hold on your waist and raises up. 

You don’t realize where you’ve been placed.

You think he’s going to tuck hair behind your ear or, heaven forbid, hold your face in two hands but instead you’re met with a practically deafening click of the light switch and the startling darkness washing over you and the animatronic.

In the blink of an eye and the hold along your chin tightening momentarily, red eyes look at you, forming crescents of clear amusement. 

His silvery voice is clear in your startled silence, “My turn…” 

You ended up getting not one, but two kisses this closing shift at the pizzaplex.

You’d have to scheme for more in the future, evidently.

[werezmastarbucks]

golden hour hill roll

pic credit

masterlist

word count: 1395

The police paid them a visit the next day. Tyler took Sam to the basement and showed him all his whimsical little musical instruments; he had a very old guitar and a shaky keyboard standing on three thin legs; had a set of drums with differently colored drumsticks. Sam despised all of that; the instruments were the opposite of what the boy craved, which was peace and quiet. Instruments produced music. Music was noise.

Kai spoke to the policemen who weren’t much concerned with their parents’ month-long absence. Kai held on to the door and listened to the two officers, both of them with protruding teeth, like they were brothers. They said the little boy’s body has been discovered in the sewage tunnel under the road, three houses away from where he lived. It took them two weeks to locate the body, and in the water, and in the company of rats, little Teddy became barely recognizable.

“Uh-huh”, Kai nodded, “awful. Who would’ve done anything like that to a child?”

“We’re only disclosing the circumstances of his discovery for you guys to be cautious. It’s the third body in the last two months in your neighborhood. You’ve seen anything concerning?”

“Officer, my two brothers are very special, I see concerning every day. They are… both… challenged”, Kai said and immediately started chewing his lip. He caught the smile at the very last second and instead pretended to be fully distressed.

“Be careful. If you see anything, call us immediately”.

“You think there’s a serial killer?”

Kai could see a neighbor, the bitch from the fourth house to the left, pacing the street behind their backs in the distance. She kept an eye on them all the time. Pretended to be looking out for the boys while the parents were away. Constantly judging them, the religious fucking fanatic. Her daughter though. Ruby Summers was, as they say, a real piece of ass. Aaand she liked Tyler.

He failed to hear the response to his own question and now stared at the cops with the same worried expression on his face.

“Is there any way we could chat with your brothers, mister Parker?”

“Samson is very ill…” he said slowly, “and Tyler is at work, so…”

They nodded with understanding. Sheer angels, these guys.

As they were leaving, Kai caught Mrs Summers’ eye. She turned away and started walking again as if she hadn’t been sniffing for the details. Will they grab him? Maybe she hoped they’d shoot him where he stood. Evil or not, Kai had to admit Summers suspected something. She couldn’t really put her finger to what. But, like an animal, she sensed something was off. Maybe she would be the first to finally figure out that he is trying to spell his name with bodies under the ground. But it would be too early. The five bodies he put in the sewer only made the bar in the first letter, K.

He shut the door with an energetic swing. Sam raced up the stairs back into the living.

“It’s a good thing. It’s a good thing Tyler took me down, because when I heard your guys’ voices, I started talking about Teddy out loud”, he nodded several times. “I heard the question, where have you been on the fourth, and started answering, because I knew you would lie to them. It’s a good thing Tyler took me away”.

Kai ruffled the youngest’s hair knowing full well Sam hated it.

“Keep low today, I also lied that you’re terribly ill”.

“Why?”

“So that they don’t want to question you”.

Sam went pale as if he immediately took to making himself ill.

Kai went down to Tyler’s room, also known as basement, and found the brother sitting on his little thrashed sofa prepped against the wall. His neck was all black. Tyler slowly tilted his head left and right. Kai could tell he was in pain even from just looking at him.

“Worse?”

Tyler was silent. They made peace yesterday with sandwiches and boardgames. Kai won by cheating which sent Sam into a crazy fit that lasted for thirty minutes. Tyler had such a strong headache he threw up in the living room. By all means the night went great.

He fell on the sofa next to Tyler confidently.

“Are they gone?” the middle one asked in hollow voice. When he was like that, he looked just a little dangerous which Kai liked.

“Yeah. Start getting concerned”.

“So maybe that means you should stop”.

“You know what else we should stop doing?”

Tyler had put up old towels, thrifted rugs and carpets on the walls of his so-called music studio. But nothing helped quieten his screams when he started recording. The shrieking was so blood-chilling that sometimes it seemed like he was being eaten alive.

Tyler was only able to turn his head a little. Kai could see the dry tear lines on his brother’s cheeks and didn’t like that. As opposed to earlier.

“What?”

“Stop lying to Sam about parents. Sooner or later his anxiety will take over and he’ll run to the neighbors or start shouting from the rooftops. Or just figure out himself”.

Tyler stood up and started walking towards the only holy place in the basement: industrial size refrigerator, always full of ice-cold soda. He would take out a can and press it hard against his aching head, and it would help a little. He wasn’t responding yet.

Pink, orange, neon blue, acid green, he had it all. Sprite, Pepsi, Fanta, Mountain Dew, Dr Pepper, Zima, A&W, it was Kai who stocked and restocked the wonder fridge of salvation.

“Which one do you want?” he asked.

“Dr Pepper”.

He took two cans: red and blue, and brought them back to the sofa.

Kai’s sly eyes were watching him. It was enough just to see that Tyler has registered what he said. That he started fidgeting around.

They drank sweet, gum collapsing soda in silence for some time. The fridge hummed its monotonous melody, Tyler’s black fingers were tightly wrapped around the cold thin metal of the can. The migraine subdued a little, and he could see colors again. He watched his black-and-white brother, so black-and-white that he was almost bloody. Kai’s face was so pale, you could take a tiny pin and prick him a little, and this skin would burst like a tightly strained balloon; and he would explode in blood. And the blood would be sugary sweet.

Wednesdays were the hill days. Samson needed to get out of the house at the golden hour once in a while. It was a little ritual of theirs; perhaps the only wholesome one. Three streets away, fifteen minutes far from home, the road suddenly dropped down off the majestic hill. The road was always empty on Wednesday evenings when they came rolling down, they didn’t know why; maybe it was luck. Empty cars parked neatly on the sides of the road, clenching on the asphalt at the steep angle with their tires. No people peeking out, it was like the street would become desolated for an hour that they spent there until the twilight came. They usually stood on the top of the hill; Tyler and Kai with their boards, and Sam, with his bicycle, and looked at the orange world getting ready for the night. The road went on and on, and beyond, an ugly world continued again. But here, on the tilted surface of the hill, their world was just the clean asphalt.

They would roll down in complete silence. Tyler sometimes undertook attempts at teaching Kai to lose speed in order not to let his board wiggle; but they were never fruitful. Sam always rode clenching the handlebars of his bike like his life depended on it. And still, he was always the impulse behind going there; he loved this golden hour hill roll. Shirts flapped around their waists, and Tyler’s migraine ceased just for an hour. They never fell on that hill, not a single time, and were perfectly happy there. The ride, and the wind, and the silence kept them satisfied. They would roll down in line, Kai always speeding up eventually, and then make their way back up the hill, and go down again, and repeated the process until the sun went down. And then the ugly world would overtake once again.

[purplecrkl]

(Wrote this two years ago and never posted it. Now that I have free time, I want to practice writing again!! I have no idea where this was going, but it’s my first time writing something, so hopefully it makes some sense 💀)

Also I pictured Daniel as Aaron Taylor Johnson from that one BLACK AND WHITE AD URGH 😩 #freeATJ 😔✊🏼

—————————————————

(10 years earlier)

“Tell me to stay. Tell me, if I choose to walk away, you will never speak to me again. Tell me I’m making the biggest mistake of my life. Tell me-“

“Tell me you know how to start a sentence without using ‘tell me’, right?”

“Tell me you’re an asshole without *telling* me you’re an asshole. How’s that?” I say back. Daniel, unfazed by remark, reaches for a pillow on my bed, hurling it at the side of my head. Carefully dodging the laptop showing the unfinished script of my latest story.

“I’m just saying, you’re reaching. I mean come on, no one actually says this stuff. Let alone out loud in an airport. Imagine the looks you’d get if we held up the line like that at Heathrow. I’d barely have time to spit the second line out before security kicked us out. Not to mention the ‘No Fly List’ we’d be put on, and rightfully so.”

This has been our routine since we met in 8th grade. Now, both in college, Daniel remains the only person I share my stories with. The path to becoming a screenwriter is long and treacherous but Daniel had always been supportive of my dreams. If there was anything I could count on him for, it was his brutal honesty. He would never tell me what I wanted to hear, and was always careful to reel me in whenever I was too harsh on myself.

While I wrote, Daniel would sketch quietly on my bed. He had dreams of becoming an architect and could talk my ear off about the ingenuity of various finite materials, how brutalist architecture is his least favourite style and why he’d move to Japan in a heartbeat because timber burnt houses had proven to increase the lifespan of its tenants.

Truthfully I think his desire to create a home that stood the test of time had to do with the fact he hadn’t experienced one himself. Mr and Mrs Keating weren’t bad people per se, they were just bad parents. Daniel didn’t remember much about his childhood. Bringing up the past never bode well for him. A feat Daniel was cruelly reminded of when he was asked to recall his favourite part about his seventh birthday at school the next day.

“My Lego bike”, he said proudly.

“And when I saw daddy kissing mummy in the library.”

The kids in his class let out a chorus of ‘ews’, whilst sneaking glances at who they’d declare their love for in the playground later that day.

Mrs Keating apparently cherished that moment too, going as far as giving it its own highlighted section in the divorce papers she served Mr Keating with the following weekend. A memory she would have no recollection of, if it weren’t for Daniel’s reminder. And after both parties agreed to sell the house, cashing in a hefty cheque large enough to erase 7 years of marriage, Daniel had barely managed to pack his favourite toys before he was waving goodbye to the house he grew up in. To hell with that library, he thought.

Though I didn’t know him back then, anyone could have guessed using your child to communicate the failings of the other parent; then shipping him off to boarding school when he refused to choose a side would end in serious emotional unrest in said kid. To this day, Daniel refuses to subject himself to any notion of love in fear of repeating his parents mistakes.

“God, I cannot wait for the day Daniel Keating confesses his undying love in the middle of an airport” I say, while crawling my way into the space beside him. A loud scoff erupts from his chest and it’s my favourite sound I’ve heard all day. But then it’s silent for a beat too long and I’m afraid I’ve offended him with such a preposterous idea. Daniel, capable of love? Ha.

In a second he’s up on his feet, pacing the room with my laptop in hand. He studies my script for a few seconds and it takes all I have to not stare at him too long. But it’s Daniel Keating. And in the last six years I’ve known him, I’ve stolen enough glances to confidently recite every part of him in my sleep.

Almost, every part.

A quiet chuckle brings me back and I’m scared he’s finally caught me staring this time. He hasn’t. And although it’s impossible to see anything beyond the dark cesspool of cocoa in his eyes, I still catch that devilish glint when he stalks towards me.

“Tell me to stay Lex,” he says.

If his head full of curls weren’t brushing against his ears, I’m sure he would’ve heard my heart stop.

“Tell me you’ll never speak to me again, if I choose to walk away.”

That’s impossible, I want to say. You could walk away a million times and I’d welcome you back a million and one.

Daniel reaches me on the bed and I’m certain if I don’t take a breath in the next second my respiratory system will take ‘you’ll never speak to me again’ quite literally. Does Heaven give out ‘do-overs’ for misunderstandings like this? It’s not like I meant to stop breathing. Blame the boy currently intertwining my hand with his.

“Tell me, I’m making the biggest mistake of my life Lex.”

He cups my cheek, and I wonder if he’s noticed I’ve come undone in the palm of his hand. I wonder if he knows everything I’ve written up to this point has been about him.

About us.

I’m certain I’ve stopped breathing. But I’m not worried. There are worse ways to go out, than having Daniel Keating here with me, like this. So with my hand in his right, and my heart in his other, I make a vow right then and there. To love him with everything I have.

Daniel.

I will love you when you stay.

I will love you if you choose to walk away.

But most importantly, I will continue to love you even if it turns out to be the biggest mistake of my life.

And it is.

[eddie-gluskin-and-i]

(TW for s*xual abuse, child abuse, discussions of possible neglect, misogyny, misandry, etc.)

Hey. No hate, but why do you hate on women so much? I know you had a very traumatic childhood but I could understand it more if you had a disliking or even a hatred of men since both of your abusers were awful men.. I’m not sure what your mom did or did not do or if she knew or didn’t know about your abuse but I can also understand it more if you’re mom just didn’t do anything and also abused you… I’m sorry if I’m hitting a nerve and coming off as judgmental here but I just want to understand. This is coming from a woman with past abuse and trauma and my abusers were mainly men and even though I am afraid of men and hate misogynistic men I don’t go around saying misandrist stuff about them. I just don’t think it’s ok to hate a whole gender because they don’t want to do something. These views are undated and hurtful. You can still want to be married and have kids, but it’s important to allow choices and respect people’s freedoms. I know it’s hard and I’m trying to have empathy for what you’ve been through and you deserved better. It’s not an excuse to what you did to all those people but it at least explains your actions. I just wished you were given more compassion in that asylum and that your parents and uncle raised you like a parent and uncle actually should. (I know you’re role playing, I just want to see how you’d think Gluskin would respond. Would he get defensive? Would he actually own up? Would he try to understand others POV? Could he even be reasoned with? Maybe not in canon. I’m not sure. I feel like if he was shown more compassion before the whole walrider experiment… it might be easier to get through to him but the second time you meet him maybe not so much… my own personal headcanon is that I’d like for him to at least try to be better. since I’m a woman and if I were in that Asylum I think at first, he’d may try to be sweet and maybe as long as I am very nice to him I can try to get through to him… I’d just have to be patient and maybe open up with my own traumas. Try to see where he’s coming from and be a source of comfort to him. Don’t get me wrong he has done horrible things and is a monster but to me I think I can try to listen to him. His whole life must had been terrible so I’ll try to teach him ways he can cope with his traumas in a healthy way and be the voice of reason if hope. And his treatment at mount massive was supposed to help him so maybe if he was given the proper help or encouragement maybe it’s help save him, he’s still a hanger but I feel like people deserves chances to get the right help to hopefully change their ways and have a semblance of being in a healthy state of mind and I’d encourage and support him. Sure there’s people who deserve to rot in jail or be kept in an institution, but I feel like in some cases people can be rehabilitated in the right circumstances. My headcanon is that all Eddie ever wanted was to be just that, loved, wanted, and safe. I just know canon Eddie post walrider incident might just kill me on the spot because of that one note stating ‘he’s making men into women just so he can kill them’ but idk how true it really is… so hopefully he isn’t too far gone… but who knows.. he’s known to get mad at even the slightest things… so what do you think? I kinda went on a tangent there but I really feel this way. I think early intervention might have helped him and he and his victims were failed for sure.)

Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve no idea what it is you’re talking about… I’m not a monster. I don’t hate women. Quite the opposite, in fact. I adored my mother just as I adored… everyone else in my family. They were nothing but loving to me.

The others, however - those who promised me love when all they thought about was leaving the first chance they got; those who pretended to be my soulmate, only to turn cold on me when they had had their fill. I gave them every ounce of my soul and the ungrateful little sluts made a fool out of me.

*Hm, I actually don’t know about this one. Definitely in over my head here regarding the intricacies of a traumatized/tortured mind. In my non-expert view, based on what we know, I don’t think he’d be able to acknowledge what he’s actually doing. There may be some conscience there, if we assume his denying his actions is a way of coping with the reality of being a murderer. Wouldn't make him a good person, and that was pre-Walrider, but maybe there was some chance of improvement.

I figure though that after the Walrider incident, whatever was left just snapped. He went from charming psychopath/could blend in with society to over-the-top gorefest slasher villain. Maybe not a complete lost cause, though? I mean even people irl who are “insane”/not mentally capable can be treated.

Again, not at all an expert. Just what I took from the game. Thanks for the thoughtful ask. As fun as this blog is, it’s good to reflect on the real-life, not at all fun topics involved.

[s1rcus]

The Future Generations [3/?]

Rating: Mature

Words:   1328

Fandoms: Overwatch

Relationships: Moira O'Deorain/Angela “Mercy” Ziegler  

Characters: Moira O'Deorain, Angela “Mercy” Ziegler  

Additional tags: Trans Angela “Mercy” Ziegler, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Kid Fic, Eventual Sex, Fake Science, POV Moira O'Deorain

Summary: Angela comes to Moira with an interesting proposal one late evening which makes the two start working closely together in secret.

Story below the cut or in AO3 here

Chapter 1 | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

"Ziegler, Angela!" A nurse shouted from near the end of the corridor.

Angela had dragged Moira to the first proper ultrasound. She didn't want to go alone and was set on not telling anyone in Overwatch about the pregnancy before the second trimester. She'd booked an appointment at a small clinic that was as far away from the Watchpoint as possible while still being within Zurich.

Angela hopped to her feet from the chair she was sitting on and started walking towards the nurse. It took Moira a second to realize she's supposed to be following before she got up as well and caught up with Angela.

"You're certain we can trust this doctor?" She asked in a hushed tone.

"Yes."

"How can you be sure?"

"Well just doctor-patient confidentiality should be enough, but I also know her. We did our residency at the same hospital. I trust her, so could you please too."

Moira just grunted in response. Knowing Angela knew this doctor personally helped a little but she still worried someone might tip off that Mercy had been visiting a doctor outside of Overwatch.

Angela and the nurse exchanged some words in German Moira couldn't understand. She had very basic knowledge of German as a language but when it came to Swiss German she was absolutely lost almost constantly. The nurse left and Angela hopped on to sit on the examination table. Not soon after a woman in white doctor's coat walked in.

"Oh, Dr. O'Deorain. I wasn't aware you'd be joining us today."

"You know what I told you over the phone. Moira is the other parent and I asked her here because she has the right to experience all of this as well. And she's my moral support," Angla butted to the middle.

“Yes, yes. And she’s also not bad to look at. Right, Angela?”

"I- shut up!"

Moira was sure Angela was blushing even before she even turned to look at her. It was endearing in a way.

"You two have caught up now. Can we move on?" She asked, trying to help Angela from her uncomfortable situation.

"Oh, yes. Doctor Laura Kriger. Nice to meet you. And this is just a normal prenatal checkup. Angela has sent me all the test results you've done on your own but I'm gonna run them again as well as some other things that are just some concerns for me because of your situation," Doctor Kriger explained.

"Angela, if you wouldn't mind lying back on the table. Lift your shirt and unbutton your jeans."

Angela did what was asked and Doctor Kriger began her examinations with an ultrasound.

--------

Everything seemed fine with the fetus and Angela and after they left the room Angela handed her bag to Moira with a quick, "I'm just gonna use the restroom really quick. It's gonna take a bit before we're back in base again."

Moira accepted the bag and sat down to wait on the closest available chair she saw.

"You two seem like an odd couple", an older woman commented from a couple seats over.

"That's because we aren't," she answered curtly.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I just assumed you were having a baby together. This is a maternity clinic after all. I'm actually waiting for my wife to return from the reception. We've been trying to have another baby for a long time now. So if not a couple, are you two friends? Is she having this child alone?"

"It's not really any of your business, is it?" Moira said, then realized she's being rude without a reason and added, "Sorry. I hope you'll get some good news."

"You and me both. I don't know how my wife would take another failed attempt." The woman was quiet for a bit as she looked around before continuing, "I know it's not my business and I'm hoping to not step on your toes here, but you're clearly not just friends. It's kinda hard to just stand by and not be able to do anything for them while they're going through all of this. But what we have to do is to remember to take care of them while they're pregnant. You'll see soon enough how the hormones affect her."

Moira didn't know what to answer to that and before she could figure it out, Angela emerged into her field of vision. She muttered a quick thanks to the woman along with a nod, while she got up and offered Angela her bag. She accepted it and turned towards their way out.

"Alright, let's go. I'm starving. Would you want to stop somewhere for lunch or do you want to take your chance with whatever the cafeteria is offering today?" Angela talked as they started their way to the parking lot and their car.

"I could eat. Especially somewhere where I get to pick what I eat."

--------

The lunch went by as a fog for Moira. She knew Angela was talking about something to her and she kept nodding and commenting at times to make it seem like she was actually listening. But that woman's words were playing in her head.

Angela and her were just friends and it was foolish to think otherwise. But she was playing a dangerous game here with her feelings. She'd need to step back. They were friends and spending this much time with Angela was not good for her. She couldn't be what Angela wanted her to be for this child because that would be like playing with fire. Being a mother to a child with Angela without having Angela sounded like asking for a sandwich and getting just a dry slice of toast. Moira just wouldn't be able to do it.

--------

They arrived at the parking lot for residents of the Overwatch base. Moira parked the car in its specified spot and powered it down. Angela started to gather her things and as her hand went to the door handle Moira decided it was finally time to talk.

"I've decided that I don't want to be the other mother. This baby will have you as their mother and that's more than anyone could ask for. You're gonna be an amazing mother and you're gonna love this child no matter what. I just don't want a confusing multi house situation after you move out of base with them. But I'd like to be in their life. I want to see them grow up and I want to get to know them. So I'd rather be aunty Moira than a mother to them. I don't really think I was meant for motherhood. And I don't want to join you for more checkups, I can drive you, if you so wish. But I'll be staying outside."

Angela's hand was frozen at the door handle. She wasn't looking at her and Moira gathered she was going over everything she just said in her mind.

"Was it something Laura said? You seemed completely fine today until we left the clinic. I can ask her to be more professional if that's what you want. I'm sure she didn't mean anything by it but she's an old friend so she forgets her manners," Angela said eventually.

"No, Angela. This is just what I want. It's just DNA and I'm sure you'll find someone more suitable to join you if you just ask. Oxton might have a little too much energy but I'm sure she'd be there for you, if you'd ask."

Angela said a quiet "okay" and got out of the car. She didn't look behind herself even after Moira got out of the car. She locked the doors and leaned against the side of the car. This was for the best or so she tried to tell herself. She decided it was best for her to take a little longer route back to her room. She'd go in from the back door and she could smoke a cigarette before doing so.

[yanderelovlies]

✨Galaxy Anon ✨ here!

*sees requests are open and slams hand down* Vivi! I want a order of that one prompt that I made that time of reader in love with Joseph and Joseph dates them only for reader to find out Joseph only done it for peer pressure, reader saves him and dies, reader recarnted and Jack appears through tape and tries to win reader love but reader knows it’s Joseph and refuses. Optional if Jack finds out later or when they meet reader again immediately if he finds out reader old identity years from years ago when he was Joseph. Angst and Fluff endings included. * fixes table* sorry for the rash action it’s just a rare opportunity for me. But take your time on this one I know it’s a long one. That’s also why you don’t have ten requests from me right now lol.

Vivi don’t make me cry! You’re gonna make me cry waterfalls!

Yeah I felt the same, I felt there was something maybe it lacked but nothing to that degree that it had a fucking hashtag. I hope so too and we gotta respect sauce decision not to go after those people since they don’t want that and wants to leave it behind.

Pfft that would’ve scared me since unless they looked and acted so good and sweet I wouldn’t ask since I be petrified to seem stupid.

Makes sense, old habits die hard and I’m living proof of that. Happy to make your goal achieved!

I felt more it was like I couldn’t talk to my mom about it and I was very naive so I wondered what happens on social media and I got into my first serious phase fandom that time and wanted to talk to people about it. Yeah I made some mistakes and glad they never truly bit me in the butt to this day though it could’ve have easily been otherwise. Same we both swimming in our tanks, with horrible memory that fails us.

Oh yeah, I heard of those friendships. They sound bad and unfortunately knowing how long you been friends for until breaking it off yeah I can see why it take a toll on you. Yeah I’m glad you rejected it though you need to stay away if they’re affecting you that badly. I can feel you on friend trouble just I was the expendable one. It felt more like I was an outsider looking into a group of friends rather than my own. It really affected me later in life and why I was so scared and even clingy to people I made friends with online since I was scared to be forgotten. Vivi you’re making me blush awww!

Galaxy my love you can send as many as you would like I don't mind 💕 I'm having a bit of writer's block, and seeing everyone's prompts really help me 💕

Would you like some hugs?? I love giving hugs 💜.

IT HAD A HASHTAG?! THE FUCK?? I don't like that at all. Aaahhh poor Sauce! Criticism is one thing, but to make a hashing??

She was one of that cool teachers who was strict when she needed to be, but most times she didn't care as long as your work was done.

Oh trust me too. 💕💕

Young me took advantage of the that I didn't have parents around. Along with my older siblings being bad influences. I saw things a child shouldn't have, and other unfun things. It never bit me too hard, but it did leave an impact. Also it's a good thing we have a spacious bowl! .....I think.

I know that feeling too well. When we got out of high school we had plans to move in together, but thanks to bad decisions I had difficulties getting a job to help pay for it. So without talking to me they got the apartment,and moved one of their brothers into my place. After that it never felt like I was their friend anymore. I was just watching them have fun. I have to remind myself that people don't wanna talk to me 24/7. I haven't balanced it out yet but I'm getting there. Being forgotten is my second biggest fear. It gives me panic attacks.

I'm only telling the truth 💕

[xaracosmia]

ꕥ — WELCOME TO EXO COSMIA, LLOYD GARMADON. 🌑

ꕥ  — OOC INFORMATION;

name / alias: E.J.

Age: 22

Pronouns: he/him, it/its

ooc contact: @glitchital on twitter

other characters in xc: none!

ꕥ  — IC INFORMATION;

Name: Lloyd Garmadon

Age: Born 17 years ago, appears to be in his early 20s

Pronouns: he/him

Series: Lego Ninjago

canon point: Post Master of the Mountain

app triggers: child abandonment, parental death

personality: Lloyd is someone who always follows his heart. Nothing matters to him more than his family. He tries to honor the values they’ve taught him by doing everything he can to preserve peace in the world. 

It can be a heavy burden, carrying that responsibility. For years, Lloyd’s been told about the great power he wields, how he needs to master it and maintain balance between good and evil. It’s a power that people admire, seek out, and wish to destroy. You know, normal fate-of-the-world type of stuff.

That kind of power could be corrupting to some. But not to Lloyd. At his core, Lloyd is kind, forgiving, and always wants to see the good in others. It’s those traits that allow him to inspire others to be their best selves. He always believes in his family and friends, and in turn they believe in him. That love uplifts him and gives him the strength to fight through the darkest battles.

To fail those important people in his life is one of the worst feelings for Lloyd. He knows his family will do anything for him, and they have on multiple occasions. When he really lets them down, the guilt can be overwhelming to a point where he can’t find his path forward.

It can never keep him down for long though. Because if nothing else, Lloyd is one stubborn guy. Like, really stubborn. He’ll never quit on his responsibilities or his family. No matter what happens, he refuses to let go of the people he cares about most because all he wants is to be with them.

something your muse struggles with: Being alone. Without others, Lloyd will doubt himself. Even the idea of losing someone is enough to make him act recklessly.

your muse’s greatest strength: He sees the best in people and he never gives up on them

history / background: Lloyd’s life has never followed a straight path.. Growing up, he only knew a few things about himself. First, his mother left him at a boarding school when he was too young to remember her. Second, he was the son of one of the greatest villains in Ninjago. And that was it. 

A boarding school for future villains was no home. He couldn’t make any friends and he struggled in being an evil mastermind like his father. It’s no surprise he eventually got kicked out of school, or that it was easy for Lloyd to leave. But what was surprising was finding an ancient tomb of snake-people. At ten years old, Lloyd released an evil onto the world and for once he felt like he was following in his dad’s footsteps.

Well, that didn’t last. Because raising an army of snake-people doesn’t really go over well when you’re ten. So Lloyd got caught by his uncle and a bunch of stinkin’ ninja. And immediately adopted by his uncle and those stinkin’ ninja. And for the first time, found himself in a welcoming home with family.

Getting kidnapped by the Serpentine set things back a bit. But it did give him a chance to meet his dad, and to learn that maybe his father wasn’t all evil. The touching reunion did get soured by Lloyd finding out he was the Green Ninja though. His destiny to defeat his own father in the ultimate battle of good and evil. 

So his father leaves again. The ninja start training Lloyd to be the hero of all Ninjago. Despite the pressure of his destiny, he’s never felt happier. He has a home, a family, something good he can do in the world. There’s some hard-work, and sacrifice. He gives up his childhood, literally growing up faster than anyone should have to. But he’s becoming really good at being good. It gives him a chance to reconnect with his mom after years apart. And when the final battle against his father comes to pass, he’s able to save his dad in the end too.

The ultimate battle of good and evil was over, except it really wasn’t. Because villains were still in Ninjago, and there was always a new threat to face. An evil robot army, a mad crime-lord, ghosts, time-travel, always a new challenge to face, and a new hardship. Lloyd lost his father again, forced to banish him to another realm to save the world. Being the green ninja never came without hard-work and sacrifice after all. Then getting possessed by a vengeful ghost for several weeks wasn’t an easy thing to go through either. But through it all Lloyd learned two very important things about himself. First, that he can never give up. Second, that he is never alone.

powers / abilities:

Green energy - he’s the elemental master of energy! He can create green energy and control it into different forms. It can become like fire to light a torch, or cover him like a second skin for armor, or become like a projectile of pure force to shoot at enemies, etc.

inherent abilities: 

Master ninja - just really good at being stealthy and fighting stuff. 

items / weapons: 

Destiny’s Bounty - a large red ship that can both sail and fly. it's been the ninja’s home for years.

Sword - a green and gold dao

starting ability: nothing

starting item: Sword

extra: 

Burn-out can’t catch him if he’s too stealthy

Destiny’s favorite chew-toy

Taking so many Ls in his life he has two in his name

discord id: destined.green.ninja

[articulatedbyleilani]

The Parents.

During my self improvement journey, I remember I struggled with hatred towards my parents with every inch of blood and bone in my body. I struggled with trying to figure out why I hated them so much, when in reality, I loved them both so much.

After months and months and months of struggling with depression because of this feeling of resentment and not knowing why, I figured it all out. The lack of parental guidance, support and love.

The first two people, if you're lucky, that you meet when you're brought into this earth are your parents. These are the first people you trust, the first people you look up too, the first people to set an example of what life and love should look like.

Fortunately when I was born, I had both of my parents. Unfortunately, I only had enough time to trust one parent. I only had one parent to look up too. I didn't have either parents to show me what life and love should look like.

I already wrote a long blog about my "dad", but let's talk about my mom. My mom is the only parent out of the two that I was able to trust. The only parent that I could look up too. But she couldn't show me what life and loved looked like, because she was still trying to figure out how to life and how to love.

My mom was the person I got lucky to look up too. Watching her as I grew up taught me so many things but most importantly, they taught to do what I have to do to succeed. She taught me to grind and grinder harder on days I have no energy too. She taught me what sacrifice looked like. My mom was the mom that would go to work all day and taught us how to look after each other because she couldn't afford child care, nor had help. My mom would be on the edge, stressed, depressed but she got up everyday to go to work to make sure there was food in our stomach, clothes on our back and a roof on our head. My mom my bestfriend, for as long as I could remember. I was also my mom's first child, and I was the eldest child. There's never any fun in that because with being the first child, I went through more. I was my mom's first kid meaning everything she learned about being a parent was with me. Once I started hitting my teenage years, the more sassy I became, the more sarcastic I became, the more I would talk back, but what mom my failed to realize is that I was just transitioning from a kid to a hormonal female teenager.

We would bump heads a lot, fight a lot, but what hurt the most was her constantly telling me "You can leave".

I get to my dads, and even though I'm not his first child, I'm his second, I was the first child he experienced again, as a a kid transitioning into a hormonal female teenager because he never had a relationship with my older sister. The cherry on top of it all, was my dad couldn't even survive any longer than a month with me because I got to the point where I told myself I'm no longer the experiment child. I'm not longer being treated like I was a problem when I was just a kid that they both failed to raise together. I was a kid that they both lack giving life knowledge too. They both thought that they just gave birth to me and I was supposed to be a perfect human being who would project life expectations of theirs to the T.

Eventually, my dad said "You can leave" in his own lingo being,

“You’re never going to make it”

“You’re being sent back to California so your mom can deal with you”

“Get out of my house”

I forgave them both a long time ago. I hold peace with my dad one sided from afar, and I love my mom to death. But because of these two people, I have abandonment issues. They were supposed to be my forever safe space, and now they aren't. I don't talk to my dad and made countless efforts to forgive him, fought so many times to the point where I nearly was begging my dad to be my dad, but he always finds a way to make me feel bad about myself and it always results in him just telling me "do you lani, we don't need anything from you". My mom and me are good, I tell my mom almost everything, but then again, I don't feel as safe as I use to when it comes to telling her about any heartaches or pain I go through. My mom can be overly judgmental some times, and I don't agree with that. Instead of her listening to comfort me, she listens to talk shit. Towards me, and whoever I vent to her about. That's not nurturing.