#god knows Ill never write it but like !! putting the idea out there in the hopes that Ill get lucky and someone else does

[uh-oh-its-bird]

"Kid Kakashi somehow spawns in jujutsu kaisen and looks concerningly similar to gojo" trope only instead of Satoru finding him first, Suguru does

Kakashi gets a dad and Suguru gets the world's most horrifically loyal child soldier, everyone wins (except for the people who really, really dont)

[eluxcastar]

Hello Riri! :]

I'm in my platonic harbingers with a child reader era, and you're one of the few people I follow who writes platonic stuff on an occasion. So here's my request!

Here's the small storyline I have. Reader is the child of a god (you're free to decide what they are the god of, if you want) who is extremely well known around Tevyat, and puts on a very intimidating and serious presence. Yet one unfortunate day, the readers parent dies, so now they have to take on their legacy at a too young of age. Making them grow up out of their childhood much faster and pressuring them into becoming exactly like their parent. Cold, intimidating, and serious.

And out of all the mortals the reader has met, the harbingers are who they find comfort in. They could be lecturing some other mortal one minute, and the next minute, they see one of the harbingers. They're grabbing them by the hands, bouncing on their tip toes with a bright smile.

(Hope you're having a good day! And please don't overwork yourself<3)

Fatui harbingers with a child god

── ୨୧：fatui harbingers & reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: child reader taking over as archon and basically immediately proving why child rulers are a bad idea but it's ok because it's cute and endearing

୨୧﹑genre :: fluff

୨୧﹑content :: gn reader, god reader, signora might be ooc tbh I struggled to think for her, not proofread

୨୧﹑words :: 3k

this has been in my inbox for some time, even though I've really wanted to do it for ages. I'm sorry honey it took me a while to get to it. the description of their parent at least to me was giving mr zhongli when he was morax and I immediately thought of the ramifications of him faking his death in the rite of descension which makes me wanna write something else BUT THAT'S FOR LATER

I meant to post this four and a half hours ago but suddenly it was like twice the length I thought it would be and uh yeah that was not the plan but enjoy the food served hot and fresh

There has hardly been a moment of grief since you were orphaned, and the people are turning to you for their next overseer. You, small, fragile, and ill-prepared, are the one they wish to see take up the pillar left in your father's wake. You weren't ready, and maybe you never would've been, embraced by the caring side of your well and truly mellowed-out father and cherished by the people as the child of the nation.

Your transition from people's treasure to people's guide was jarring, and you're still not used to it. You move with what pleases and hide what brings deep frowns and disappointed eyes. The people no longer want a child but a god. They want their pride, once a god who had walked by their side for millennia, now the passing generation of a god as the mantle shifts to his blood.

It's hard not to notice what they make you, now the spitting image of your father, though you can only parrot his earned wisdom and show a brave face to keep the nation from despair.

You have but a single ally—the Tsaritsa—someone whose messengers approached you to ask for your father's gnosis and who gladly agreed to offer you an invitation to Snezhnaya at your request to speak to her personally, quite honestly not knowing how to say that you frankly didn't know what to do with the gnosis. Though you could keep it, you're unsure how to harness its power, wield it, or even control it. Your father was strong, you're not.

She is an intimidating presence but gentle. She knew of your father for as long as she had been an archon—though they weren't on good terms toward the end—perhaps you could understand her more than he would. He was the original archon in his seat, but you are an inheritor like her. In her lands, you are the careful balance of both a god and a child, spoken to with the grace of a higher power but the softness that is befitting to a young child.

It is as you are.

Tartaglia is the first to seek a test of your strength, though you wish not to hurt him and convince him to wait. So long as the answer is someday, he allows you to let him down easily and settles at indulging your requests to join the snowball fight you noticed him having. You want to join in, fidgeting and with your gaze flickering between the smiling children and your feet. You push away your every want to join them and play as well, but remind yourself of the people who would scorn you. It's unfitting for a god to behave like an immature child, you remind yourself, but every hope of remaining steadfast to that is gone as Tartaglia notices you watching.

His offer is merely that—an offer. He speaks with a snowball forming in his hands as he approaches, his thick coat engulfing his form and the red scarf bundled around his neck to keep him warm. You have to look up to meet his eyes, playful and perhaps a little mischievous. Tartaglia holds the snowball out to you as if it were his peace offering.

"You look like you want to join the fun. Care to throw a snowball or two with us?"

"May I?"

And with that, you take his offering.

Pantalone's musings and the intentions of his gifts are not beyond you. He means to win you over and perhaps spoil you a little. It is coddling, and you notice it. He wants what he wants, and he will get it out of you, but it is also not beyond him to recognise that you are...naïve, endearingly. Pantalone can lavish you in fine silks all he wants, but you have received many offerings, so they don't particularly sway you as he had hoped, and he moves on. Your true weakness lies in children's toys, the many things you have been denied since you have been forced to steel yourself. The smile that twitches at the corners of your lips as he presents you with the first is enough to confirm it.

Toys are made for children; though you try to deny it, you are still a child at heart. Gifting a child a toy they will try to pretend they don't cherish but will protect with their life is perhaps the quickest way to earn their favour. He watches as you fiddle with the arms of the plush cat when you think nobody is looking, asking it questions and then responding to yourself in an all-too-dedicated voice you put on for this cat. 

"Oh, Mr Cat, would you like some borscht too? It's very good."

"Yes, please, I would love to try some!"

Pantalone admittedly can't deny that you come with your own charms.

Signora spoils you what many of your aids have tried to before you, the chance to fix your hair, marvel at a pretty lady and wish you were half as sophisticated as her. She is your role model, second only to the Tsaritsa. She is beautiful and elegant and willing to teach you her ways as long as you continue to show up as cute as you are. Fix your posture a bit, head up, and walk everywhere with purpose, even if there isn't one. She has mastered the art, and you want it. Pantalone has his own appeal, a sophisticated man who learned through blood, sweat and tears, but there is something so distinct about Signora that makes you run to her at your first problem of presentation.

Like your mother, she will take you by the hand, lead you to a mirror, straighten your back, tilt your head up by the chin, and tell you to look at yourself now. Each time, you stare dumbly in awe of her reflection standing behind you, observing you like something precious, and it fills you with the confidence you need to heed her advice. It doesn't occur to you that Signora looks at you that way only because she thinks you're cute in your efforts, but too much like a child who got into their mother's perfume to be taken seriously.

"How others see you is important. Do you think they want to see their god with their back slouched and head hung? Hold your gaze above the people."

"It's-- well, different. I think I just look tense."

Sandrone has also come to realise that your weakness lies in toys, though she will not admit to aiding and abetting Pantalone's endeavours to find you a plushie. Instead, she shows you Katheryne. You have seen Katheryne before; you are sure of that, and that is only confirmed as Sandrone informs you that she exists in every branch of the Adventurers' Guild, including the one in your homeland. Katheryne is your access to knowledge, and the Northland Bank is your connection to Snezhnaya. Sandrone offers you comfort, the path that will lead you back to where help is and where you can go when you become overwhelmed by responsibility.

She likes your company, a reluctant admission that does not come cheap as she bargains your silence with the knowledge that she's aware of your liking for your cat toy. The embarrassment that overwhelms you is palpable until she offers you her workshop to play when your quarters are so overcrowded by your aids. You couldn't come to Snezhnaya alone for your safety, and it leaves you stranded without a moment of peace at times.

"Really?...and I can just, stay here? For as long as I want?"

"Isn't that what was offered to you?"

"Well...yes, thank you."

Scaramouche, whom you meet adjacent to Sandrone, is ill-tempered in the presence of others but a tad nicer when it comes to you. He does not drop his rough-around-the-edges personality to melt his heart out of his chest for you, but you manage to strike the perfect cord in his to gain liberties others cannot, having him share sweets with you. You learned at one point he really doesn't like them, leading you to wonder why they suddenly appeared ready and available for you to stuff your pockets full and snack on them when nobody's looking. You earn his favour through endearment and talk to him like he's normal because he is.

He is the child of a god, though in a different capacity to you. He was not loved quite so dearly by his mother and cannot share with you the pain of losing someone who treasured you. He was merely abandoned. There is the vague part of you that shuns the idea his softness is pity, sympathy even, as you're stuck stumbling through the world alone. It is all too familiar to him, and if candy will make you smile at him so cheerfully and hug him so tightly, then candy is a simple trade-off.

"Are you sure you don't want any? These are yours."

"Sickly sweet things make me feel like my teeth are fusing together. You can have them."

Pulcinella reminds you of home, the trinkets gathered on a whim that he keeps, the years showing through the rooms dedicated to him as you notice things your father told you of in stories. These are stories that Pulcinella will start off on without prompting, indulging your curiosity before you even lowered your guard enough to show it and casually enough that you slowly ask more. Every item holds a story: what it is, how he obtained it, why he kept it, who it was for. You see many such things around what used to be your house, but you don't know all of the stories, treasuring the ones you remember.

Pulcinella doesn't recall every story either, as some of your pointing and questioning is met with remarks of how long it has been. It is the only thing you feel you share with him, a living space filled to the brim with memories. Many of your trinkets don't belong to you, but his do, and it's nice to hear someone tell you stories again as he lets you pick from the collection of sweets in your pockets to eat when it suits your fancy.

"What about this? It reminds me of a lumenstone, the ones from the chasm."

"It is, and it came from Liyue when I asked that one of my subordinates bring it back for me. You must have a fine eye for these things."

"Not really, only lumenstone and noctilucous jade glow like this."

Arlecchino's offering to you is company, and plenty of it. Children who are so far removed from the stretch of news beyond the issues of the Steambird they manage to get their hands on that they wouldn't know your face from a haggler on the street. Father brought a guest to play with, and that's what matters as they induct you into their games, teach you the rules, and regard you exactly as they regard every other child their age. You are given the choice to simply become nobody, and you love it. Though you were once only a child, you were still the child of a god, and everyone knew it. Now, you elicit excitement only because someone new enters their lives, someone to learn about and befriend, merely a guest their father brought them.

Despite her sharp exterior, she is sweeter to you than you expected. You thought Arlecchino might be scarier, meaner, harsher, but she softens when she speaks to you. It is not with the cutthroat demeanour she holds speaking to the Harbingers and lacks a degree of the stern attitude she fronts to the children. You are not the average child, and it's necessary to treat you with some degree of respect, but you notice she's gentler with you than others, and it almost makes you feel special.

Columbina has sung you to sleep many times during your stay; her voice is sweet and more than enough to calm you. You let her hold your cat plush and dance with you in the hallways with the excuse you need knowledge of these things should you aspire toward being an archon, even if spinning around until you fall on the floor from dizziness and burst out laughing is a tad non-traditional. Columbina can see things others can't notice more than the human eye is capable of, and you'd rather not know what that's like. Something in the way she speaks tells you that it's hardly adjacent to anything human, closer to you, but still quite far off. It's interesting to hear the strange things humans have no business knowing.

Your hand is grasped in Columbina's, her fingers holding you tenderly. Her eyes are partly obscured beneath the lattice of a mask she wears. You're not sure if you could really call it a mask. She steps back, tugging you with her, and spins you in time with the steps she takes, each accompanied by a shift that forces you to keep up with where she moves, her other hand on your shoulder. It is the closest you will get to proper dancing, though merely a fool's waltz. You can't dance; being spun down a hallway while you struggle to match her movements feels much like you imagine a waltz would.

"It's not really proper dancing if we have no pattern to it."

"There is no such thing as proper dancing. If you'd prefer it, I could sing."

Dottore is someone you did not expect to be so open to the idea of you, and your assumptions were proven correct by his apprehension to engage with you. He is curt with you at best and avoidant at worst. You are a child filled with the yearning to touch everything that doesn't belong to you, desperate to hear too much about the things that don't concern you. You are young, needy, and with no concept of what is beyond you. Dottore's unique abundance of knowledge is appealing to you, however. He knows things your father did, many of which he didn't tell you, but Dottore will, so long as it gets you to sit still and stop interrupting him. You may be convinced you have pocketed your unnecessary emotions away, but he has seen you, and that is an insulting lie.

Your wants are written on your face plain as day, so long as people pay enough attention to you to care what you feel. He does not especially care, not for the child of a god, but it helps to know what you want to stick your nose in most. It helps to know how you benefit from him, and on luckier days, you might even catch him in a better mood when he is willing to indulge your interest in his knowledge. Your capacity to understand, let alone remember, hardly worries him.

"So you have clones of yourself? And they just...work for you?"

"Not exact clones—segments. They have wills of their own and use them as they see fit."

Capitano is strong, a man of few words, and he does not abhor your presence quite so strongly, nor does he indulge your more childish desires. What you get from Capitano is respect, the highest honour you can get from his book in your eyes, and it comes from your perseverance. You're running around working so hard when you're so young, and you deserve a break sometimes. You deserve a quiet place to curl up in the corner with that cat he's caught you hiding under where no one can bother you, and maybe with a few sweets you always seem to have these days. That corner still does not exist, though he will find you one if you want it. 

You show no signs of slowing down, are energetic and eager and are far too committed to the act of being something you're not to listen to him when he tells you to rest. Gods must all be fickle. The most he can do for you is make sure you're safe and happy as you will be in your position, maybe wipe your hands of powdered sugar when you find pastries at the market you want and recklessly eat them without thinking of how you'll clean up short of wiping the remnants on your clothes, but you'll never do that as you are.

Pierro once made you nervous. He is a stern, serious man who never smiles. Pierro is steadfast in loyalty and never wavers, which is precisely what you have begun to aspire to be now that that is what has been asked of you. You could never hope to replicate the kind of dedication he has, and perhaps that is part of what sways you. Though you have become so comfortable behaving childishly around some people, you fear you may never be around him, whether because you fear his disapproval or yearn for his approval. Despite that, he is arguably who you trail around behind most, quiet, observing, trying to figure out how to copy and apply what he has to yourself.

It settles the quick realisation he reminds you most of what the people saw in your father. Someone like him is someone people envision fostering a nation to prosperity, and you fight your own subconscious to keep all of your slipping habits, making sure he never sees you sneaking candy, hiding your cat plush from him, refusing Tartaglia's every offer to play games around him. You're not sure why you think that will make him like you more, having long ago gained his favour, unable to notice the faint smiles and the conscious effort to make you believe he doesn't notice you out the window barreling snowballs at Tartaglia.

You are still a child at heart; he is just about the last person you can hope to hide that from.

[fandomxo00]

I need more Laura’s Teacher and Logan content! Can you imagine once Logan and her eventually do get together and they’ve been together a while and she’s essentially Laura’s mom at that point? Bringing her girl to class and when she’s older to school with her. (God I need a whole series on these three because it’s so cute 😩🥰)

note: yall keep requesting different ideas and ill def keep it going!! thank you for sending in a request :)

When Charles died, Logan gave up the criminal life, no longer having to work for the amount of money he needed for his medication. That's when they moved into your house with you. It slowly started to feel better, his old scars didn't heal but his limp had cleared up after a couple months of no recurring wounds. One day it just seemed to be official, he started picking you up early in the morning. Laura would be sleepy but she's always get breakfast while you were out. Logan started holding your hand over the middle console, when he dropped you off at school one day. You kissed him goodbye, before going with Laura.

You let Laura in the room before drafting an email to HR, the other people necessary to know about your relationship with Logan. You were going to include him in the email before getting ready for your school day. Drawing a question up on the board, you taught a couple different classes, the main one being Reading but another being a L.A class. They put the two of them into one block, but sometimes you just focus on one or other, or a little bit of both.

Laura sat at her desk eating her breakfast, she was now in the 7th grade, taking some English 8th grade classes. But she still wanted to hang out with you in the morning. She had really warmed up to you and you felt a protection over her, almost like a mother-bear. Laura didn't seem to mind you naturally filling in as maternal figure. You remember her first day of 7th grade, she came into the classroom with you. When she had to leave, she gave you a tight hug, told you she missed you and loved you.

You and Logan never spoke to each other about your status, but you talked about it with friends and family. Eventually one night you were laying on his chest before bed, his hand rubbing up and down your back. "You're my boyfriend, right?"

"We just moved in together, whatta think?" Logan's chest rumbled with laughter as you flushed, hiding your face into his neck. The smell of his cologne filled your senses as you inhaled his scent. He kissed at your neck before whispering in my ear, "You're my everything, sunshine."

Logan had eventually told you about the Wolverine thing, first revealing he was a mutant along with Laura. Then revealing their mutation one evening when Laura accidentally put one of her foot claws through a soccer ball. You just shrugged already guessing from the talk around the school, not officially believing it but when he started revealing his trauma to you there was always a piece missing. You remember the conversation about Laura, one afternoon you were in the bed together, cuddling after a nap. "Thank you for being a mom for Laura, I don't want to push that label on either one of you." His hand came up to your face, his thumb rubbing against your cheek. "But it's okay, its clear you love each other, and she looks up to you. She's been through so much, things I failed to protect her from. Laura hasn't had trusted an adult aside from me and Charles for years. Never connecting with teachers or other adults, she didn't want to talk to me or anyone else. Then she walks into your classroom-." Logan sighed, leaning in and connecting his lips with yours. "I can't believe I found you." You giggled at his words, as his hands moved down your butt cheeks and pulled you into his stomach. Logan gazed down at you as your legs held on to him.

"I love you, Lo." You murmured.

tags: @jessjessmarvelandhp @chronicallybubbly @delicateholland @bubblegumholland @mega-kittyglitter-1 @ohtobemare @dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes @onlybunss @squishyfruitloop

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 30 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley's excitement over the first set of ultrasound photos is unparalleled. He has never been so happy and so overwhelmed in his life, but at times he feels ill equipped to process everything that's happening. And the last thing he wants is to make you feel like he's growing tired of you.

Warnings: Swearing, smut, pregnancy topics, doctors, angst, fluff

Length: 6600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

Bradley wanted to be able to explain it to you, but he wasn't really sure he could. Sitting in the waiting room with you and anticipating an ultrasound to see the baby was honestly more than he ever thought he could have. You were more than he ever thought he deserved, and you wanted him anyway. But a baby? 

He barely had a baseline to build off of. His dad died when he was young enough that he only had a handful of fleeting memories. The sound of a laugh. Two big hands lifting him up when he fell. A lullaby sung softly as he drifted off to sleep. Besides the photos that you and he collected from his storage unit and the stories his mom recounted when he was younger, that's all he had.

But he could practically hear his mom telling him how excited Nick Bradshaw was to be a dad. Bradley could remember the joy in her voice whenever she told him about the way she would catch father and son goofing off together. She was adamant that Bradley cried almost nonstop the first day his dad was gone for a deployment. And now Bradley desperately wished he could remember these little details that made up their relationship. Because soon, god willing, he was going to be on the other side of things: the parent who loves goofing off and singing, but who also gets deployed and causes tears to fall.

It was all too overwhelming for him to put into words, but as he laced his fingers with yours, he knew he didn't have to figure out how to do everything all at once. 

"Are you nervous?" you asked.

Bradley looked at your open expression and immediately felt better. Talking through things and sharing his thoughts was the best way to keep from driving himself crazy while also letting you know how important you were. "Excited," he replied, kissing your cheek and ear. "Just really fucking excited. I've been thinking... about starting a notebook. Kind of for the baby? Like how sometimes I like to write down what I'm thinking and feeling for myself."

He still felt silly at times for sharing the notebooks with you, but you nodded with a little smile on your lips. "I love your deployment notebooks. I love what you wrote about me."

He reached for you and kissed you without hesitation. "I think I want the baby to be able to read about how much I was looking forward to meeting them. When they're older, I mean. They can read about how I feel like my heart is going to pound out of my chest right now. And how I can't wait to hold them and give them a name. All about how much I love their mom."

Bradley let you bury your face against his neck. It didn't feel like you were hiding from him so much as giving him a taste of the kind of response he'd get if the two of you were alone. "I like that idea." You kissed the side of his neck and said, "I adore you, Roo. You'll be the best daddy."

Bradley almost laughed when you jolted in your seat after the nurse called your name. "Come on back, you two," she said with a smile. "Hopefully mom and dad can leave with some new family photos."

"Holy shit," Bradley replied, palms suddenly sweaty. Baby photos. He was on his feet in an instant, ready to go. And maybe this was what his dad felt like. Perhaps his parents didn't know what they were doing either, but rather they just counted themselves lucky to go along for the ride. He wished one of them had left him a notebook.

You were smiling up at him as he reached for your hand again, and your fingers felt sure and steady all wrapped up with his. "I'm excited, too," you whispered, answering your own question from earlier while he ran his thumb along your rings. "And maybe a little nervous."

"I'm right here," he promised as the two of you followed the nurse into a room filled with equipment. "I'm not going anywhere."

He kissed you and then begrudgingly let go of your hand when the nurse gave you a hospital gown to change into. As she left the room with the promise that your doctor would be in shortly, Bradley dragged his palms across his khaki covered thighs as he sat down and watched you change. Even though you were suffering from near constant nausea, he thought you looked incredible. Your face was glowing, and you kept looking at him with adoration in your eyes. 

"Jesus," he grunted when you removed your bra. Was it possible that today he was the hornier one for once? "Sweetheart. Your tits," he whispered as he ran a hand over his face while you giggled. "Unreal." Then your underwear went sliding down your legs, and he reached down to help you out of them. "Hand me the gown," he told you as he folded your underwear across his knee.

You slipped into the gown when he held it open for you, and then you stood between his legs while he secured the ties and kissed you through the fabric. Your laughter filled the small room, and when the doctor walked in, she found you sitting on Bradley's lap while he ran his knuckles gently across your belly. 

"I'm Dr. Morris," she said, shaking hands with you as you stood and then reaching for Bradley's. "I love it when partners show up for appointments, too. It's a lot more fun."

He watched Dr. Morris help you up onto the table, immediately missing your warm body next to his. "I plan on being here for every appointment unless I'm deployed." Your smile faltered a little bit at his words, so he added, "And even then, I'd steal a jet and fly in for a few hours. This is that important to me."

Your smile was restored and then some. Bradley scooted the chair a little closer when you reached for his hand as Dr. Morris started to ask you some questions and enter them into the software. "Do you recall when you last menstruated? I'd like to calculate a due date assuming we find a healthy fetus."

Once you told her the date of your last period, Bradley blurted out, "Why wouldn't it be healthy?"

Now he had two pairs of eyes on him as you squeezed his sweaty hand. "It's very early," Dr. Morris said. "Complications are more likely to occur in the first trimester than in the second or third. And your wife is just between seven and eight weeks along based on her cycle."

"Oh," Bradley said, swallowing hard. You'd tried to tell him all of this information before, letting him know it was too early to inform your parents or Nat or any of your other friends. But it felt somehow wrong coming from someone else. He didn't like this information when it was laid out before him in the exam room. 

"It's okay, Roo," you told him, a sweet smile still on your face. So he nodded and watched your lips and the curve of your cheek as you answered a few more questions and asked about prenatal vitamins.

Then eventually Dr. Morris said the only words Bradley really wanted to hear right now. "Let's see what we can find with the ultrasound."

He was sitting on the edge of his seat, elbow leaning on the exam table as he gripped your hand for dear life. As excited as he'd been, now he was on the verge of being sick. What if he'd been too rough with you in bed? What if the football at the beach really did hit you in the wrong spot? What if all of the vomiting had been worse than either of you considered?

One thing was for certain. Bradley was going to love you no matter what, until his dying day. So he held onto your hand and kissed your knuckles as Dr. Morris squeezed lube onto a wand that looked a bit like one of the vibrators you had at home. "Is that for the ultrasound?" he asked, watching you spread your legs wider. 

"Yes," the doctor replied, and a huge computer monitor lit up. "We need to get really up close at this stage to be able to see anything, so we're doing a transvaginal ultrasound today. The ones you're thinking of that use a paddle on the belly will come later."

"Right," he replied, and as soon as she slipped the wand inside you, he watched you purse your lips in slight discomfort. "You okay, Sweetheart?" he whispered, eyes glued to your face for any sign of pain. But your pinched expression melted away, and your lips parted softly as you sighed and stared at the computer monitor. 

"Oh. Oh, Bradley! Look!"

When he turned toward the screen, he slowly stood as you pulled his hand closer to your body and held it with both of yours. Everything looked a little fuzzy at first, just some gray and black shapes. But then a cute little bean started to take shape as Dr. Morris adjusted the wand, and Bradley rasped, "Is that the baby?"

"Yes," she replied evenly, also watching the monitor. "And everything looks great."

Warmth spread through his entire body as Bradley huffed out a laugh while you giggled. He wasn't sure if his hand was shaking or if it was yours, but he leaned down and kissed your wrists before finding your lips with his. "That's our baby," he whispered, kissing you once more.

"It's adorable," you said, smiling nonstop. "Like a little bean, or a chicken nugget."

Bradley leaned on the table, keeping as close to you as he could. "I'm already so in love." He could feel tears in his eyes as Dr. Morris froze the screen. "Is it over?" he asked in a slight panic. In all honesty, he could happily spend the rest of the day right here with you and the baby, and he wasn't prepared to say goodbye yet.

"Just capturing some images," she reassured him. "Baby's first picture."

"Oh my god," Bradley groaned softly, and you ran your fingers through his hair as he ducked his head against your shoulder. "That's the first picture, Baby Girl."

"The baby looks just like you, Roo," you told him with a laugh, and he kissed you until the doctor cleared her throat.

"Let's see what we can find if we zoom in a little more."

With rapt attention once again, Bradley stared at the screen. It looked like the baby was bouncing around a bit, wiggling to an unknown song. "Is that movement good?" he asked. "And what's that little flickering spot?"

"Very good," she replied. "And the flickering is the heartbeat."

"The heartbeat?" That was inexplicably what threw him over the edge as a tear managed to squeeze its way down his cheek when he blinked. "Holy shit."

He just let his head rest against your chest and basked in the feel of your fingers in his hair as you whispered, "I love you." Bradley had no idea if you were talking to him or the baby. Or maybe both. Or maybe you loved Dr. Morris, because in this moment he certainly did as she snapped more photos. Maybe you loved everything right now just like he did.

"I love you, too."

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

Bradley was falling apart as you ran your fingertips along his scarred cheek. Or perhaps he was completely keeping it together. You weren't really sure. He had some tears in his eyes even though he was smiling, and the two of you were holding onto each other. 

"Do you want to listen to the heartbeat as well?" Dr. Morris asked, and the two of you responded at the same time. 

"Yes!"

She laughed and adjusted the ultrasound wand inside you which was actually extremely uncomfortable, but you were starting to think Bradley would cry harder when she removed it. And then you heard it. Dr. Morris adjusted something on the control panel, and set a device on your belly, and you could hear the heartbeat. 

"Why is it so fast?" Bradley asked, squeezing your hand. "That's like really fast."

Now your heartbeat was picking up, but Dr. Morris said, "One hundred and fifty two beats per minute. That's perfectly where it should be."

"Oh, okay," Bradley sighed, eyes transfixed on the monitor. "That's good then. That's a strong Bradshaw heartbeat right there. Can you take another picture? The nugget looks really cute like that."

You laughed and reached for him when she eventually shut off the equipment and removed the wand. At Bradley's request, she printed out enough copies of each image that you'd be able to give them to your parents, all of your friends and even Bradley's cousin Brenda in Virginia. 

"This seems like overkill," you whispered as the printer just kept going and going.

"It's not," he promised. "I need all of them to wallpaper my locker and fill my helmet bag. Just a bunch of pictures of you and now the baby, too."

"We'll get more ultrasound photos at the next appointment. And the next one after that," you reminded him. 

"Good. We'll have enough to wallpaper at home, too." Eased himself back down into the chair as you sat up a little bit while Dr. Morris cleaned up her workstation. 

"When is the due date?" you asked suddenly. 

"March 24th," she replied, and you and Bradley shared a smile. "Do either of you have any other questions for me?" she asked as she handed a massive stack of ultrasound photos to your husband who looked like he just won the lottery. 

"When can we find out if it's a girl or a boy?" he asked, looking through the images with a crooked little grin on his face. 

"In the second trimester," she assured him. "You'll make a special appointment for an anatomy scan."

You cleared your throat and said, "So... I've been really quite... I'm sure it's the hormones and everything, but I've been extremely aroused for the past few weeks." Bradley gave you a wide eyed look as you asked, "Basically, I want my husband around the clock right now, and I want to know if that's normal?"

He let out a strangled choking sound, and his cheeks started to flush pink as Dr. Morris said, "That's totally normal. Have at it."

You pressed your lips together before you quickly asked, "And rough is okay? Like pretty rough."

"Yep," she replied, completely unfazed by your words as Bradley looked like he wanted to run out of the room with his stack of baby pictures. "Anything else?"

A smile crept to your lips, one that Bradley would have probably found alarming if he were looking anywhere else except the door at the moment. "Actually, yes. I do have one more question for you, Dr. Morris. Based on the size of the baby and the date of my last period, can you tell me when you think the baby was conceived?"

"Sure," she replied, turning the monitor back on and scrolling through all of the information in your electronic file. 

"You did not just ask her that," Bradley whispered, his voice deep with annoyance and maybe a little bit of desire as you grinned at him and bit your lip. 

"I would say you probably conceived right around June 27th."

You squealed with delight as Bradley groaned. "Thank you so much, Dr. Morris. We'll see you again in a few weeks."

When she left the room, you hopped off the table and started to untie your gown, pausing to pump your fist in the air while Bradley held his forehead in his hand. "Okay, okay. You win," he whined as he laughed. "You win."

"I told you the baby was conceived in the Honda!"

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

Later that night, Bradley kept reminding himself that Dr. Morris said rough sex was okay. That seemed to be the only way you wanted it as you got on all fours on the bed and said, "Fuck me hard, Daddy." And Bradley was never going to be one to deny his wife anything she asked for. 

Beads of sweat were rolling down his face, occasionally dripping onto your back as he leaned over you. He was panting next to your ear as he went as hard as he could, fucking you until your knees buckled and he had to hold you up. "You know, I used to have a wife who liked it sweet sometimes. I wonder what happened to her?"

"You knocked her up," you gasped as he rubbed your clit with his fingers. 

Fuck, he was getting close, and your words were not helping in the least. "Come on, Baby Girl. Come for Daddy." 

A few more swipes of his fingers and a little more dirty talk, and you were coming. Holy hell, you were coming hard, which was a good thing, because Bradley needed a break. You released an unholy moan as your legs gave out again, and this time, he let you sink down to the bed as he grabbed his cock in time to come all over your ass and your back. 

"Roo," you gasped as he painted you up, and you met his eyes over your shoulder. "That's so fucking hot!"

"I'm glad you think so," he grunted before he sprawled out on the bed next to you on his back. "I got nothing left in the tank, Sweetheart. Do not ask me for more tonight."

You crawled over to kiss his sweaty face and whispered, "You did so good," as you patted his abs adoringly. "You're already the world's best Daddy." Then you leaned down and cleaned his cum from the head of his cock with your tongue, and Bradley moaned as you climbed out of bed. "I'm going to shower and get ready for bed."

He raised his hand in a wave or surrender, he wasn't quite sure which. Forty-five minutes of nailing you until you screamed his name was the most intense workout he'd had in weeks. He needed to hit his home gym in the garage a little harder. Maybe he could invite Jake over to lift weights with him, and then he could sneak away and take a nap while you and Jake had one of your gossip sessions. That actually sounded pretty great.

Bradley managed to get out of bed long enough to let Tramp out and brush his teeth. By that point, you were getting out of the shower and drying yourself off,  humming and sighing softly. 

"I know what you're trying to do," he said with his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. "And it's not gonna work."

You looked at him with one eyebrow raised as you ran the towel across your chest. "I'm sorry. What exactly am I trying to do that's not going to work?"

He spit out his toothpaste and rinsed his mouth, sending a glare at you in the mirror. "Look at your fucking tits, Sweetheart. Now you're just flaunting them."

"I'm literally just standing here."

He shook his head and kissed your forehead as he walked past. "You know what you did."

When you slipped in bed next to him, he pulled you close while you laughed softly. You were wearing nothing except for his old UVA shirt, and when you curled up next to him, he pushed you gently onto your back. Then he yanked the shirt up and shimmied under the covers so his lips were next to your tummy. 

He kissed up and down your side before laying with his cheek on your hip and one hand on your belly. "Listen kid, I don't know what you're doing in there, but I need you to chill, okay? Someday soon, you'll get to see how pretty and perfect your mommy is. Yes, I think about her all day long. Yes, I love her, but I can only take so much. Your old man is an old man."

You lifted up the covers, and Bradley felt your fingers in his hair. "No, you're not."

He kissed the spot just below your belly button before returning to his pillow. "I'll be close to thirty-eight when this little nugget arrives."

"That's not old."

When you curled up on him this time, he collected you in his arms. If you were surprised by his words, you didn't let on. "My dad died when he was twenty-nine. My mom died when she was forty-two. You're a bit younger than me, not that I mind. But my age is something I think about a lot. I'm older than all my friends. I like to be prepared for things before I jump into them. I like to feel out my surroundings. Except when it comes to you, apparently."

You snuggled in a little closer, voice soft as you asked, "What do you mean?"

Bradley kissed your fingers before lacing them with his in the dark bedroom. "I was all in with you as soon as you looked at me. Zero hesitation. No turning back."

You buried your face in his chest and moaned. "You can't just talk about me like that. It makes me insane for you," came your muffled voice, and Bradley laughed. 

"I guess I never had any hesitation about us having kids either. And I'm just saying... it's nice to have time to think about the baby before the baby actually gets here. But I'm also in my head a lot right now about my parents and how much more flying I've got left in me and how I don't actually know how the fuck to take care of a baby."

"Bradley!" Your voice was scolding as you propped yourself up on him. "We're a team. And I wouldn't lie to you. You're not old, and I'm pretty sure nobody actually knows how to take care of a baby until they have one in front of them. Then you just kind of do it, I guess. The fact that you are so excited about this pregnancy is at least half of what's turning me on so much. You will be the best dad imaginable, because you love me so well, and I don't doubt you have more of that to give."

He was exhausted, and your words settled over him like something he could physically feel. "I really am so excited. Today felt like a dream. I just want to cover the whole house in the ultrasound photos, and I can't wait to get another smaller paper airplane tattoo."

He felt your fingers trace his tattoo in the darkness. You knew exactly where it was without guidance just like he knew exactly where yours was. "You'll get it right here? With the baby's name on it?"

"Yeah," he whispered, starting to feel like he was going to doze off.

"I have a question," you said, and he squeezed your hand softly. "Earlier you asked when we can find out if it's a boy or a girl."

He smiled at the hesitation in your voice. "What's your question?"

Bradley could feel your heartbeat against his body, and he thought about how he had been able to see and hear what the baby was doing just a few hours ago. The beautiful sound of that rapid heartbeat that belonged to his child. 

"Do you care? If it's a boy or a girl?"

"No," he answered honestly. "Not one bit. I just care that it's ours."

"Me too. I'm happy either way." Your words sounded soft and dreamy, and he believed them.

"I love you both. Now let the old man sleep."

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

The rest of the week felt like a bit of a reality check. You tried taking the prenatal vitamins from Dr. Morris, but you threw them back up almost instantly every single time. "Just skip them," Bradley said on Friday morning as you threw up in the toilet when you were trying to get dressed for work. 

"I can't," you practically wailed. "They are supposed to keep me healthy so I can keep the baby healthy." You looked up at him from where you were sitting on the floor.

He sighed and checked the time. "Why don't you just stay home today? You're looking pretty green, and it's Friday anyway. Text Bickel."

Anger flared inside you. He was standing there looking nice and tidy in his khakis while you were on the floor turning yours into a wrinkly mess. And the reason for that was the fact that you had to deal with all of this shit. He just got to enjoy your libido while being excited about the baby. You really didn't want to start resenting him right now when you were leaving for Maryland soon.

"I can't just skip work on a whim like what I'm doing isn't important," you snapped. "I'm trying to get my presentation ready for Annapolis, in case you forgot you offered to help me with that."

He was on his knees in an instant with your chin in his hand. "Hey, that's not what I meant. I just don't want you overexerting yourself, especially since your work is important and you'll be traveling soon."

You still felt bitchy, even though he made you peanut butter crackers and took Tramp for a walk while you stayed curled up in bed for an extra twenty minutes. "That's right. I'll be gone for a week. I'm sure you're looking forward to having a break from the near constant sex."

You used the vanity to pull yourself to your feet while your stomach lurched, even though he was holding his hand out to help you. "Look at me," he demanded without touching you at all. You didn't want to, but you shifted your gaze to his face as he stood too. "If you really think that's true, then we have a serious problem. I'm going to assume that you feel the need to take your nausea out on me, and that's fine. I don't really mind. That's what I'm here for. But do not accuse me of ever wanting to be separated from you."

You pressed your lips together and just nodded as he leaned down to kiss your cheek. You didn't want to be away from him either, but you felt another wave of sickness rolling through your body.

"I need to go, Sweetheart. I'll stop and get you some of those ginger pills on my way home. Maybe they'll help. I love you."

After he left, you threw up again and fought the urge to throw the bottle of prenatal vitamins across the bathroom. Even now you were horny enough that you considered climbing back in bed with your vibrator to take the edge off, but you knew nothing would be as good as the real thing. And you'd have to apologize to Bradley before you could have that, and it would undoubtedly make you cry when you did. 

When you finally made your way back out to the kitchen, you found more peanut butter crackers arranged on a plate in the shape of a heart with one of the ultrasound photos next to it. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you tried to call your husband, but it went to voicemail. You listened to his raspy voice before ending the call and texting him instead.

I'm sorry. If you want Marry Me Rooster for dinner, pick up some chicken along with the ginger pills.

After you tucked the ultrasound picture in the new Bronco, you spent your whole morning sitting quietly with Cat, the two of you going over each presentation slide with a fine tooth comb. "Is that calculation correct?" she asked, pulling out a calculator. 

"It fucking better be. I did it myself. Months ago."

She looked at you with wide eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you lied, anxious that Bradley hadn't responded to your text. Two days ago, you were having the absolute time of your life with Dr. Morris, and now you wanted to scream. "Can we just finish this?" you said through gritted teeth as Cat checked your math which was obviously done correctly. 

"That's what we're working on," she said smoothly, using her mom voice on you and making your nerves prickle. "Finishing the slides so we can spend next week practicing and getting our notes in order for all of these meetings and cocktail receptions."

The last thing you wanted to do right now was pretend you were drinking alcohol while trying not to vomit. Nothing about this trip to Annapolis seemed appealing. And you didn't want to have to try to hide your pregnancy from your parents if you drove to see them one night. 

"Are you sure you're okay?" Cat asked, and you had to steel your spine as you nodded. 

"I'm perfect." There was no point in making her mad at you when the two of you would be in close quarters for several days, so you rolled your shoulders and got back to work.

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

Asking Jake if he wanted to workout actually wasn't the best idea Bradley had come up with recently. It would be nice to have someone to spot for him at the weight bench, but if you were making his favorite dinner, he'd rather spend the time with you. 

"Fuck," he groaned as Jake followed him to the grocery store on his way home. Apparently he needed protein powder and didn't mind that Bradley had to stop for chicken. Of course now he had to try to discreetly grab the ginger pills that you wanted to try for your nausea. 

It ended up being easier than he thought since Jake took fifteen minutes to decide which flavor of protein powder he wanted. He was still looking at them when Bradley went back to that aisle. "Are you almost done?"

Jake shot him a nasty look from where he was squatting at the bottom shelf. "Listen, it would go faster if I didn't get hit on constantly when I'm wearing my uniform."

Bradley rolled his eyes so hard, he was afraid he'd get a migraine. "Keep it in your fucking pants. I'll meet you at my house."

Jake grabbed a container and followed him to the registers. When they passed a hot sauce display, he grabbed one and handed it to Bradley. "Get this for Angel, and maybe you'll get laid. Sounds like you need it."

"It's literally the last thing I need," he mumbled, but paid for it anyway along with the ginger and the chicken. When Bradley slid his credit card back in his wallet, he saw the corner of the ultrasound image he had tucked in there last night. He unfolded it and took a peek as Jake paid for his powder. You were everything. And the baby was everything. And he should have been a little more patient with you this morning. 

"You coming?" Jake asked, and Bradley shoved the nugget photo back inside his wallet before slipping it into his pocket. 

You were already home, and Bradley parked the blue Bronco next to the red one. Jake came careening into the driveway, stopping about two inches from the back of the new Bronco. "Show her a little respect, okay?"

Jake snorted as he climbed out. "You literally fucked the other car to bits. I didn't do shit."

Bradley groaned as he walked inside with Jake on his heels. The first thing he saw was you in the kitchen, feeding Tramp a treat. You had on some skin tight yoga pants and a little shirt without a bra, and you turned to him and said, "Can we talk?" He opened his mouth to tell you that you could have any damn thing you wanted, and then you said, "Hi, Jake," with a look of surprise on your face. "I didn't know you were coming over."

"Hey, Angel," Jake crooned, walking into the kitchen and pulling you in for a tight hug. Shit, Bradley forgot to text you and let you know he wasn't going to be alone. "Didn't see you at lunch today."

"I worked through lunch," you replied, your eyes on Bradley. "Are you staying for dinner?"

"Nah, just going to lift weights out in the garage with Rooster for a bit. I'll be out of your hair after that."

"You can stay if you want," you told him, but he was already heading toward the hallway bathroom with his gym bag. "Why didn't you tell me he was coming over?" you whispered. "I'm not even wearing underwear, and you left one of the ultrasound photos on the fridge."

Bradley quickly pulled it down and stuck it in the freezer on his way to get to you. "I'm sorry. I meant to text you, but then I got in the Bronco and forgot." Tears welled up in your eyes; he should be used to this by now, but he was not. "If you're horny, I'll take care of you as soon as Jake leaves."

You scoffed at him. "It's not that. I don't just want that. I wanted to talk. You're not just a gigantic, walking dick to me."

Jake cleared his throat, and you and Bradley both turned to see him standing there in his gym clothes. "I'll meet you out in the garage," he said with a smirk. "Take your time."

"I'll just be a minute," Bradley called over his shoulder, but you'd already started to open the chicken he set on the counter. "Do you want to talk now?"

"No." Great. You were giving him one word answers now. 

"Would you like me to get changed and get out of your hair?"

"Yes."

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

As soon as Bradley walked through the sliding glass door and headed for the garage, you broke out in tears. What the fuck was your problem? You didn't mind if Jake was here or if he stayed for dinner. You didn't want to completely discourage Bradley from hanging up the nugget photo. You just couldn't control your emotions, and you had zero patience today. And you couldn't stop running to the bathroom to pee. 

You decided to fill up some travel mugs with water and take them out to the guys to smooth things over. Tramp ran around in the grass as you walked across the yard, and you could already hear the two of them talking over their playlist as you approached the doorway. 

"Is Angel's ass bigger now?" Jake asked, pointing to the dirty calendar that Bradley hung on the wall and strategically covered part of with a post-it note.

Your husband shook his head. "Stop staring at my calendar," he replied as he added weight to one side of the bar. "And stop talking about my wife's ass."

"She's in a feisty mood today. You probably didn't even need that hot sauce to get laid, old man." Based on Jake's response, you were pretty sure neither of them had seen you in the doorway yet as you stood there awkwardly. 

Bradley's brow creased. "She's been a real handful, actually."

Jake hooted with laughter. "In the bedroom? Never mind, I don't want to know."

It took Bradley a few seconds to respond. "Can we talk about anything else other than my wife? Please? Literally any other topic would be great."

You turned on your heel and carried the waters back toward the house as soon as you heard Jake say, "Speaking of asses, you know who has a great one..."

They were out there for a full hour. You made what turned out to be perhaps the most incredible looking batch of Marry Me Rooster of your life while you stewed. Even your husband was already sick of you. Soon you'd gain so much pregnancy weight, your ass would probably be enormous. He'd probably have to close his eyes just to have sex with you. 

You froze as you were putting the chicken onto a plate. What if he couldn't stand the sight of you with a belly at all? All stretched out and weird? Bradley had probably glorified it in his mind, but you knew it wasn't going to be all that appealing when you were nine months along in the middle of March with stretch marks galore. You were already bloated enough that Jake noticed.

You were turning and looking down at your body when they both came walking back inside, out of breath. "Smells good in here. Are these for us?" Bradley asked, pointing at the waters on the island. 

"Yes," you whispered, afraid to meet his eyes. As soon as you heard his voice, you were horny again, but you didn't want to keep forcing him to have sex with you just because you couldn't help yourself.

Jake kissed you on the cheek, and when you told him he was welcome to stay for dinner, he said, "I'll take a raincheck. See you for golf on Sunday, Rooster," and headed out to his car.

"Do you think you can eat dinner?" Bradley asked you softly. When you turned away from him and nodded, he said, "You didn't have to wait for me if you were hungry. Do you want me to shower first?"

You burst into tears once again. "I don't know if I'm hungry. I don't ever know. Sometimes I just grow up. And I can't stop fucking crying! And I don't want you to be so sick of me that you'd rather talk about literally anything else with Jake, including someone else's ass."

"Whoa, whoa," he said quietly, spinning you around again. "I don't want to talk about anything else besides you, Sweetheart."

You shook your head and covered your eyes with your hands. "I tried to bring the waters outside. I heard you."

When you were pulled snug against his sweaty shirt, you felt slightly better. "Baby Girl. I was not about to get into a conversation with Jake about how I can barely keep up with you in bed. In order to keep my pride intact, I would at least want him to know you're pregnant if I'm admitting that you're wearing me out." He kissed the top of your head over and over.

"It feels like you're getting sick of me," you sobbed softly. "And you brought me hot sauce even though I can't eat it right now, and that made me so sad."

"I couldn't be less sick of you if I tried. I just needed to keep Jake off my back rather than let slip that you're pregnant, so I got the hot sauce. And it's completely my fault I forgot to tell you he was coming over, but I had a lot on my mind today."

"Like what?" you asked, inhaling how delicious he smelled even compared to the dinner you made.

"Like possible baby names and the look and feel of your pussy when I fuck you. Do you need me right now? Because I'm ready to go when you want me."

"So badly," you squeaked. "I'm sorry, Roo."

"Don't ever apologize again for wanting to have sex with me. I will be the one to apologize if I don't last as long as you need me to."

You nodded against him. "Well then I'll apologize for having a bad attitude."

"Do you need me to fuck the attitude out of you?" 

"Yes, sir."

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

Imagine how excited he'll be holding that baby in his beefy arms. Just stay calm, sweet Roo. The hormones won't last forever. Up next, we're going to Annapolis. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 31

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[deanswhiskey]

𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡 - 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

⛥ ⛥ ⛥

summary; its sams birthday and his wish comes true

wc; 1,113

warnings; nothing but some kisses

authors note; AAAAHHHHH IM SO SORRY I HAVENT POSTED IN AGES BUT I WANTED TO PUT OUT SOMETHING FOR SAMS BIRTHDAY AND IK ITS LATE BUT OH WELL i promise ill start writing more when i'm done with this semester :))) also this is proofread bc i rushed to put this out apologies for any mistakes

⛥ ⛥ ⛥

the late, late night of may 1st was spent alone in the kitchen. you were so graciously baking your best friend sam a beautiful birthday cake.

since arriving to the bunker and having a ginormous kitchen all to yourselves, you thought it’d be a great idea to start baking and cooking again. being on the road, hunting monsters, you never got the chance to cook or bake. the only cooking you ever did was heating up some frozen dinners for everyone from the store.

not that you minded, sometimes they were good; but nothing, nothing, ever beats a home cooked meal. and to top it all off, homemade dessert.

that’s why when you all settled into the bunker, you went on a big grocery spree and bought almost everything in the store.

the very first meal you cooked was fettuccine alfredo with chicken. something your mother used to make all the time when you were younger and have loved ever since.

when sam and dean walked into the kitchen they couldn’t help but notice the divine aroma.

“‘m my god, what’s that smell,” dean asked searching around for what could be it.

you moved out of the way of the stove to show them a view of the food, “it’s fettuccine alfredo and chicken. it’s almost ready, fo you two wanna set the table?”

they both nodded with enthusiasm, getting plates and forks and knives and set them on the table nearby.

the noodles, sauce, and chicken were finally done and incorporated. you took the pan and a large spoon to scoop it with and headed over to the boys who looked like they were about to start eating from the pan. as soon as the food hit their plates they wasted no time digging in. you chuckled as you watched them almost eat it whole.

that night marked the start of some of the best food sam and dean had eaten.

so now you were baking and decorating the most extravagant looking cake for the man you were secretly in love with.

you don’t know when it happened but something changed and you no longer wanted to just be friends; you wanted more. more than just a quick side hug when celebrating, more than just high fives. you wanted whole, endearing hugs; you wanted to interlink hands and never let go.

the cake you were baking you surly knew sam would like. it’s his favorite cake flavor and a beautiful frosting color. you even added ruffled borders on the top and bottom and near perfect lettering on the top. this cake was made with love.

it was 11:49 pm when you finished and you had flour in your hair, frosting on your shirt, and excess batter on the counter. the cake was put in the fridge to chill over night and the kitchen was finally cleaned 10 minutes later. you quickly showered before hopping into bed with a small smile on your face knowing your best friend would be so happy with everything.

morning came and you and dean had to be the first ones up to set out everything. dean went out to buy balloons (that you and dean so tiresomely blew up) and banners to hand from the walls. he also set out the few presents the two of you bought, even after sam said he didn’t want anything (you both knew you were gonna buy him something anyways), and you set out the cake with the candles, lighting the fee of them up.

sam walked into the kitchen rubbing his eyes. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!” he jumped at the two of you screaming.

after his scare went away, his eyes lit up like a child at their very own birthday. he rushed over to you thanking the both of you for doing this. he glanced at the cake, “did you make this?”

“with love,” you nodded.

“make a wish, brother,” dean patted his back. sam closed his eyes thinking, he knew exactly what we was going to wish for. he bent down slightly and blew out the candles. you didn’t bother with making breakfast because you knew cake for breakfast would excite anyone.

sam was very giddy to open up his presents. he was ever so thankful for the few new flannels, nice watch, and a new belt you guys gave him.

the three of you sat in the movie room and watched a bunch of old movies. sam has grown very fond of old films. he likes western ones the most.

it was getting late and dean decided that he’d had enough of movies and was feeling sleepy.

now it was just you and sam, on the couch, in the movie room, alone.

the movie was at a slow part, just the main two characters talking in an old western barn.

“did you have a good day?” you turned to sam.

he looks over at you, he loves that smile on your face. “i had probably one of the best days ever. that cake? phenomenal, probably the best thing you’ve baked.”

you blushed and looked down. after a moment of silence you looked up again, sam still looking at you, “what’d you wish for?”

“i cant tell you that,” he chuckled.

“c’mon,” you dragged out.

“no, i can’t!”

“please, for me” queue the big puppy dog eyes.

how could he resist those eyes? “fine, but you can’t get upset.”

why would you get upset?

sams heart is racing. “i wished for you.”

“me?”

“mhm, you.”

“wh- i- why me?”

“because you’re all i’ve ever wanted.”

you were speechless. “sam, i-”

“you don’t have to say anything, it’s okay.”

the saddened look on his face broke you’re heart. “listen to me sam,” you started to smile. “i feel the same way. i mean it when i said that cake was made with love.”

a smile grew on his face. “can i kiss you now?”

it felt like you couldn’t breathe, “yeah,” it came out as a whisper.

sam gently cupped one side of your face as he drew in closer. his lips brushed yours before he fully smashed his lips to yours.

you’ve dreamed on this moment for a while. it was more than you could’ve ever imagined. his lips were soft. he tasted slightly of whiskey that the three of you sipped on earlier and it was perfect.

“my birthday wish finally came true,” sam says just above a whisper.

“good, i’m glad.” you smiled.

the two of you fell asleep on the couch with the old western movie quietly playing in the background. both you and sam fell asleep with a smile on your face in each others arms.

⛥ ⛥ ⛥

[ethansluvbot]

riding ethan for the first time please!!! love your writing btw<3

CRUEL SUMMER | SUB!ETHAN LANDRY

warnings: adult content, spoilers?, rough sex, riding, unprotected sex, and smut :)

an: i just got really sick randomly? anyways, i'm so so sorry for not posting in awhile. i just started a new school and even though its the end of the year its stressful. it also didn't help that i had horrible writers block. also, I've never written smut before so i will get better at this eventually! i'm binge watching the harry potter movies while eating soup now lol.

with a ton of convincing from sam, ethan and tara you decided to volunteer for a summer camp. sure, spending you day with kids had its downs, but you enjoyed seeing ethan interact with kids.

the kids screams filled your ears as you run to pick up their messes. the sticky hair didn't help your anxiety at all. you sat next to sam with your head on her shoulder.

"how did you convince me to do this shit?"

a quick slap hit your shoulder as you let out a yelp, "no cursing, there's kids around. plus you could never say no to ethan, it looks like he's enjoying it."

"i know. he's been going on about this since january.," you know ethan was a total soft guy, he never would harm a soul. it took him awhile but he finally convinced you to help out.

you both heard footsteps approach you, a sigh came out as you saw his shoes. immediately you jump up and wrap your arms around his neck.

"thank god you're here to save me from sam, she's trying to make me actually do something." he let out a chuckle as he waved to sam.

"im here to take you away," he smirked as you smiled back at sam. you heard her softly gagging beginning to walk away.

"hey! i missed you today, it seemed like you were having fun with your cabin."

"i was! i actually taught a kid how to swim today." you grabbed on to his hand. you loved this side of ethan the soft, dorky and funny side of him to be exact.

"umm, i was wondering where you see us in the future? i know we have a little until we finish college but it's been on my mind."

"well, to be exact i see us in well paying jobs, a modern family home and hopefully kids of our own." you felt his mood shift with that. you might've not been the most kid involved person, but it was great to know you would consider the idea.

you both stepped into the cabin immediately grabbing pajamas. you felt ethans shattered breath at your neck. turning around you slinked your arms around his torso.

"can i help you?"

"god- i want to kiss you so bad right now."

you gave in to ethans innocent act, attaching both of your lips. his cold hands found his way up your back as you moaned in surprise. he hummed in pleasure, kissing down your stomach.

you flip the two of you over, "i wanted to try something new if that's fine?"

he nodded intently, he trusted you with his life and knew you wouldn't do anything to hurt either of you. he's desperate to finally get you undressed as he tugs at your pants.

"someones needy," you tease unbuttoning your jean shorts. his hands explored your body, undoing your bra and throwing it to the side. ethan was already undressed by the time you turned around.

"lay down."

he threw his head back as you pushed yourself down onto his cock. you put your hand over his mouth being careful not to arouse any suspicion.

"will you be a good boy and be quiet?" he hummed in response, "words baby."

"yes, ill be good," he let a muffeled whined out.

you let your nails scratch down his abs as you begin to move. his fingers begin to trace circles on your clit as you bounce. you were still adjusting to his size but since ethan was so eager you began to move.

"don't stop," he lets an exaggerated sigh come out of his mouth. you grab his chin making him look at you. he keeps his hands on your hips as you trail kisses down his neck.

you rested your hands on his chest helping him move you. even without him speaking he could tell he enjoyed this greatly. you felt his hand kneed at your ass.

looking down you see his glossy eyes look up at you, "aw, poor baby. are you not getting enough attention."

you were almost using him for your own pleasure, which you felt bad but, oh did it feel so good. he was getting anxious as you felt him squirming.

you felt him thrust into you a few more times. you could feel his tenseness, only meaning that he was reaching his high. leaning down you planted a kiss onto his lips.

"oh fuck- i love you."

[venerawrites]

Thanks for the headcanons of Itachi and the s/o who has illness🥰. Oh my god your writings are just awesome keep it up❤️💪

Can I request some headcanons of itachi,kakashi,naruto when their s/o is pregnant?🤭

author's note: oh my god, this has been sitting in my drafts forever! I have only one assessment left, so I finally have the chance to catch up with my requests! Thank you so, so much for your patience and for requesting! Hope you enjoy!

➤ Itachi

I think I am going to disappoint a lot of you, but Itachi was definitely not happy when he first learned that his s/o was pregnant.

HEAR ME OUT PLS!

It is not that he is not loving his partner, but given everything that has happened to him and all the decisions he had to make throughout his life, he has promised himself that he would never have children. He didn't want to put them at risk, or worse, make them suffer because of his own mistakes.

The initial reaction was shock.

He was always so careful and they always used protection, so how did that happen??

I imagine he would leave for a few days just so he can clear his head and gather his thoughts.

Itachi is naturally a carer and also loves kids, so it doesn't take him long to come around. After a few days, he is already back to his s/o and they better believe he would not leave them for ANYTHING.

Very overprotective, sometimes quite unreasonable - even in the early stage of the pregnancy, he would insist on taking care of his s/o, cook for them, clean the house etc.

Does not like the idea of his lover leaving the house by themselves, mainly because he is paranoid that either Sasuke or any of his enemies would target them. He always accompanies them when they want to go out, and when he does, he keeps his arm wrapped around their back or shoulders.

As the pregnancy progresses, so do his worries, and if his s/o doesn't want to be overwhelmed by him, they have to set clear boundaries and let him know they need some space to breathe.

Totally a man who would deliver his baby at home!

The moment he heard his baby's cry, he started trembling. No one loves like the Uchiha after all, especially when it comes to their love for their children!

➤ Kakashi

Just like Itachi, for most of his life he was of the firm opinion he DOES NOT want kids.

His s/o, however, was the one that brought up the question at some point in their relationship, and since then he couldn't stop thinking about it.

When his lover told him they were pregnant he was surprised, but not shocked. With the amount of "practice" they were doing, it was bound to happen sooner or later.

I think internally he would be worried and stressing about his s/o, but he would try and act cool about it.

He would purchase dozens of books about pregnancy and would read them all the time. (including during missions and night outs with friends!) Guy and Kurenai would find it cute and would often discuss their own tips with him, while Genma and Anko would roll their eyes at their antics.

Knowing how important is for him to give space to his s/o, he would subtly help around the house, but would still let them go out on their own, do chores or if they are a ninja, even go to low-rank missions.

The more their belly grows, the more fascinated he becomes!

Very touchy - his hands are constantly on his s/o's belly, caressing it or sometimes just holding it.

Kakashi would do that only when his lover is asleep, but he is totally talking to his s/o's stomach and telling his baby random stories.

During the last months, he would also become quite overprotective.

He won't bother his s/o that much, but he won't allow anyone to get close to them, touch their stomach, or bother them for longer than few minutes.

Overall, very supportive and sweet partner, who is going to make his s/o's pregnancy as easy as possible, despite his own fear of failure.

➤ Naruto

0 clue about what's going on! 0!

At first he thinks it is exciting - having a baby is fun, right? You get to dress it, feed it, take it out... it is like playing with a doll!

Buys tons of clothes and toys literally a week after he found out his s/o is pregnant, despite not even knowing the gender yet. (yes, they had to return most of them!)

Comes with a ton of weird names for their little one, because he wants them to be 'unique'. Oinks, Huggy, and Nemar (which is just 'ramen' spelled backward!) were on the top of his list.

The first months are pretty nice and fun! When the hormones start to kick in, however...

I love Naruto, he is one of my fav boys, but I bet my soul that he is so annoying during his s/o's pregnancy!

He would not understand when he needs to give his s/o space and instead will be in their face 24/7. I imagine that he would also (try to) do some housework, but because he put only like 10% effort, his lover would have to constantly go after him and re-do it!

Lots of small petty fights!

Which would always end in Naruto bringing his s/o their favourite snack or takeaway, so it works out!

Very proud to be a future dad - he would go around the whole village, telling everyone how excited he is and how he can't wait to see the baby!

Not scared or nervous at all - he knows that in the end, everything is going to work out! Plus, he and his s/o are going to have each other, so why fear?

His s/o better be prepared to take care of TWO babies, because it would take a long time for this man to become serious and laid back!

cc artwork: Clement Tingry

[zilabee]

Tony Bramwell on Brian:

- Brian dropped in at the Cavern and, spoiled for choice, fell in love at first sight with each of the Beatles in turn

- Brian almost promised to love, honour and obey them.

- He never publicly showed his embarrassment with poor deals, but one could tell something wasn’t right because inside, he anguished. Chewed his knuckles and grew pale.

- He was a fiercely loyal and honourable friend to those he loved, and ruthless toward those he despised

- He was shy to the point of blushing and stammering, and theatrical to the point of ranting and frothing at the mouth

- His biggest problem, perhaps his only real problem, was that he was homosexual in a still very unenlightened era. It kept getting in the way. Whenever he sat down for a meeting with heavyweights like Sir Joseph Lockwood at EMI, or whoever, he felt they all knew. “They’re talking behind my back, Tony,” Brian said. “They don’t respect me.”

- Paul was fond of Brian and thought he was the best possible manager: one who was courteous, who didn’t interfere with their private lives, but achieved all he said he would do. He never criticized him—none of us did. Brian was a god.  (It was only later that the façade cracked a bit, but even then we loved him. He was like family, and you accept your family for what they are and forgive them most anything.)

- his wonderfully fertile mind continuously thinking up innovative ideas and then worrying about them

- Brian was so different when around his beloved protégés. He became one of them. He was a friend, a chum, charming, trustworthy and kind. He set out to do what he promised and they all said it would never have happened without him.

- Brian bought an off-the-shelf company named Suba Films, which I virtually ran. It was way ahead of its time, the only independent company in England making music videos

- Whenever things got raunchy and out of hand around us, he would make his excuses and leave. At times, he almost ran.

- [on writing his biography]: “You don’t think John will think I’m raining on his parade, do you?” he asked hesitantly.

- I believe that Brian’s paranoia over the Beatles’ contract and his heavy use of drugs led him to think that it was only a matter of time before everything came tumbling down and he would be left standing in the ruins, with people pointing their fingers like kids in a playground.

- He was seriously ill and desperately sought to escape from the circus of his own creation.

- He was tormented by the idea of letting down his beloved Cilla and the Beatles, particularly John.

- He underwent deep sleep therapies at the Priory, being put under for days at a time with heavy drugs.

- Whether he managed the Beatles or not, he would still get 25 percent of their earnings from record sales for nine years. This subtlety had somehow escaped the Beatles, but it bothered Brian. It gnawed at his conscience because in his heart he knew he had conned them.

- [He] was abnormally distressed, convincing himself that they weren’t going to sign up again because they loathed him. Going through months of paranoia, he looked for reasons and forlornly asked the question, “Don’t they like me anymore?”

- It was so silly because it wasn’t like that at all. At different times, all of them commented to me that they would never have signed another contract as “Beatles” but they would have signed individually with Brian.

- “No, I think John hates me now. I don’t know what I’ll do if they don’t sign. What will people think? I can see the headlines now: EPSTEIN DUMPED BY BEATLES.”

- He was now seriously unhappy, not just troubled. His personality had radically changed.

- Brian had resident nurses, doctors who stayed, psychiatrists who lived in, all crowded into that little doll’s house, getting on each other’s nerves. At times he’d make an effort. He would sweet-talk everyone and then escape when they weren’t looking.

- [after Brian's death] Joanne was in shock. She had seen him first. The doors had been broken down and there he was, curled up on his side in bed with Saturday’s mail lying next to him. “We all knew at once that he was dead, but I heard myself say, ‘It’s all right, he’s just asleep. He’s fine,’ ” she said.

- It was unbelievable that the man who had got all this going—the vast money-making machine and the culture shock that had changed the world—was gone.

- The Summer of Love was over and autumn coming.

- I have been asked many times why it was that the Beatles didn’t just hire an office manager to handle their business affairs and pay him or her a salary. It would have made sense. But it never occurred to them. They just went blindly on, trying to find someone to replace Brian, like it was some kind of law. They seemed to think that they had to have a manager, to whom they had to give 25 percent of their gross income, or they’d be arrested or drummed out of the Brownies.

[billyloomiswhore4]

Crazy for you | Chapter Four

Chapter four is here!!! send me requests for short drabbles and ill give you my take on it. i love when you guys ask me questions about my fics or send requests!!! anyways here it is.

Warnings: billy has a weird obsession with the way you smell, poor randy never gets the girl, smut next chapter!

-

He didn’t think he’d have to see you until third period, but when he steps into the hall after first period he sees you. You’re leaning against his locker, waiting for him.

He can’t stop thinking about the way you smelled. It was like vanilla body wash and honey, but with that underlying smell of girl. The one he smells on Sidney, but yours is different. It’s sweeter, more intoxicating.  He can’t get enough of it, god how he wants to just walk up to you and pull you into a hug, just so he can smell you again. It makes his head spin.

But he doesn’t instead he walks to his locker, attempting to ignore you. But you don’t move, and you don’t say anything, so he just ends up standing there next to his locker waiting for you.

“Hey?” he sounds confused, that's the games he’s decided to play, pretend like he was completely wasted.

“Hey.” Your voice sounds nervous, but still has anger laced in it. 

“You’re uh, standing in front of my locker.” He lets out a chuckle, and pretends not to know why you’re angry. 

“Yeah, I know.” You deadpan, eyes piercing daggers on his own. He stands there awkwardly for a moment, with his hands in his pockets. You suddenly say, “What are you playing at Billy?”

He stares at you for a moment, “What?”

“The other night? What was that?”  You’re outright angry now. He decides to put on a show for you. He sighs, and runs his hands through his hair. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t exactly remember what happened. I was kind of hammered.” He pushes out an awkward chuckle. 

“Oh,” Your face drops of all anger, and you seem embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I thought you- nevermind.” You push yourself off his locker and walk away. And he stares after you, a slight smirk on his lips. He praises himself in his mind for the act, and begins getting him stuff from his locker. 

–

The next time he sees you is actually third period. Usually you sit right next to him so you can pick his brain about whatever topic is the day's discussion. But today you sit on the other side of the classroom, next to Randy. It makes his heart ache, he loves your little talks. You always seem so interested in  what he has to say. Sidney never listens, she just talks to him and expects him to hang on to every word, he hates it and he hates her. 

He also hates Randy, especially when he’s looking at you like that. You seem deep in conversation with him, and when you laugh Billy clenches his fist. 

How could you be so oblivious, he understands why you can’t tell he likes you, he hides it. But Randy? He’s basically making heart eyes at you, and you have no idea. Sometimes he wishes he could just take what he wants, he’s impatient. But then he remembers the plan, and with the newfound information he received from your diary he knows it’s fool proof. 

He just needs to control himself, until tonight. They made a few changes to the plan last night, and it seems perfect. He just has to wait. 

You never realized Randy was so funny, but if you're being perfectly honest it seems like he saved up all his jokes and decided to just spew them at you all in one class. 

He says something stupid about the movie Halloween and you giggle, attempting to cover it up with your palm. He smiles, and flushes red when you put your hand on his arm to push him softly. 

Your smile fades quickly, “You okay there? You're really red.”

“Yeah- yeah I'm good, just a little hot.” He sputters, and his voice cracks at the end. He laughs it off and you smile at him and continue your conversation.  

—

The school day passes quicker than normal, lunch was a bore and before you know it you’re sitting in your bed, watching some random horror movie. You had just finished writing in your diary, which was conveniently placed on your bed when you came home from school. At around eight pm you hear the phone start ringing downstairs. 

You get up, slip on your fluffy slippers and make your way down the stairs. The phone is on its last ring by the time you answer it. 

“Hey Sid.” You recognize the number. Billy stands in the woods right behind your house, waiting for the perfect moment. He and Stu fought for hours for who to be the one to do it, eventually Stu caved.

Sid said something over the phone, but Billy knew he’d be seeing her tonight too. 

“No, I think I'm just gonna stay home tonight, but have fun with Tate.” You smile into the phone, and for a second Billy thinks he might faint.

You hang up, and set the phone down, turning and walking back to the stairs. The phone rings again, this time you huff, turning back to the phone. You answer, and say, “I told you, Sid. I don’t wanna hang out tonight.” 

“Oooo, trouble in paradise?” the modulated voice teases. 

A smile breaks out on your face. “Well hello, mr ghostface.” You tease back.

“Hey, princess.” He grins behind the mask.He said it less sultry than before, not wanting to scare you off again. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, playing with your hair. 

“Watching you..i’ve decided i’m gonna play with you tonight.” 

“Oh yeah?” Your voice comes out light and breathless.

“Hide and seek. Go unlock the back door, and then go hide somewhere.” You unlock the door and hold the phone to your ear. 

“How do I know you won’t cheat?”

“Oh princess, Y’know I don’t play fair.”

You laugh at that, hanging up and making your way upstairs. You wiggle underneath your bed. 

You hear him making his way up the stairs, heavy footsteps booming through the house. He passes your bedroom door, and then stops. You slap a hand over your mouth to quiet your breathing. 

The footsteps track back to your door, and your bedroom door opens, light flooding in from the hall. Billy ‘tsk’s to himself, wondering how stupid you could be to hide in your own bedroom.  But maybe you want him to find you? 

The footsteps trail into your room, but then slowly make their way out of the room. You let out a sigh of relief. 

Suddenly something is wrapping around your ankles and yanking you out from underneath the bed. You find yourself turning onto your back in the struggle, and your giggles are immediately silenced. He’s holding a giant knife, and he immediately presses it to your throat.

“Found you.”

taglist: @tzkyo @buzzybee-26 @brazilianneighbour @sammanna @wickedsandwich08 @bdhwiqbwo @roygbivvie @dixxhotgirl2 @iiheartbowie @ashreblogsnow @snailwithaheart @ihbofjastmne @alexa-33 @adaydreamaway08 @zeysartzone @your-daily-envy

[jermer10]

This might be a weird request but can you do one where you're dating the Mercenaries and you figure out your pregnant so you tell them?

TF2 mercs with a pregnant s/o

afab reader | this req wasn't weird at all! thank you op, and i apologize for it taking so long to write! <3

drabbles under the cut :P

Scout: - being the youngest of 8, he wasn't exactly aware of pregnancy signs first hand, though he had heard things from his ma and brothers - so when he noticed you had been sicker, sleeping longer, and having food aversions to things you would otherwise love, he had slowly put pieces of the puzzle together - doesn't wanna bring it up with you, he doesn't want to alarm you, and slyly implies getting a pregnancy test after he sees you vomiting for the 3rd morning that week - when he finds out, he is ecstatic!!! <33333 - would LOVE it if his kids were into baseball, definitely the playing catch in the yard kid of dad - has always been big on having a family, but can't help but also feel incredibly nervous??? - his dad was never there, would he even be a good dad? spoiler alert, he is an amazing dad

Soldier: - completely oblivious to the idea that you could be pregnant, and instead sends you to the infirmary thinking you had just eaten some bad bread - to his complete and utter shock, you came out pregnant - "honey, no, i was already pregnant..." there's no use, he doesn't care who made you pregnant, he was going to be a dad! - is already picturing your white picket fence american life together with 2.5 kids and a dog - doesn't believe in maternity leave, will try to get you onto the battlefield despite the fact that you are seven months pregnant and can barely walk (medic has to explain why you cannot, soldier is outraged) - the kind of guy who really wants a son but is blessed with a daughter instead and ends up having more in common with her - "CAN WE HAVE ANOTHER ONE?" he is so sweet like actually <333

Demoman: - demo is always sick, it comes with the alcoholism - but when you're sick? he is worried, like, extremely worried - at first he thinks it's the flu, maybe gastro? anything but what all the signs point to, please don't be pregnancy - when you show him the positive tests, he holds you and cries - he is so terrified at the idea of being a father, he's an alcoholic, he's never had to take care of anything in his life, not even himself - god, he couldn't bare having to explain the egregious duty of abandoning their child until they come of age, like his parents had done to him, and theirs to them - but, he also really wanted a family with you - he saw how happy this baby would make you, how excited you were to have one with him - when he sees his baby for the first time, he knows that he made the right choice

Heavy: - having three younger sisters, he knew what pregnancy was like - and when his father was executed, he knew he had to protect those sisters as if they were his own children - he absolutely loves the idea of having a small family with you, a peaceful life without bloodshed - so when you come to him, teary eyed, holding what looked like a pregnancy test, he didn't hesitate to embrace you in the most suffocating, loving hug he could muster - "У нас будет ребенок!" he is so incredibly happy - he treats you like royalty, spoils you so hard (as if he didn't already) - his mother and sisters knit you baby clothes!!!! <33333 - will not let anyone near you, he absolutely refuses any harm to you or your baby, if you get sick he ails your illness, if you are hurt he treats your wounds - you are the most precious thing to him, and now so is your baby

Engineer: - it wouldn't come as a surprise to him at all, as you had likely discussed having a baby and trying for one multiple times beforehand - that doesn't stop him from bawling his eyes out anyway - you hold each other for hours, happily crying and giggling about how your future together will look - designs all the baby furniture with added features to make your life easier - feeding bowls that prevent food spillage, chairs that are completely non slip, a baby cradle with an inbuilt monitor and mobile with little wooden tools and machinery - the most proactive father any child could ever want in their lives, he will drop everything to support you and this baby - invests in his kid's hobbies, shows up to every baseball game, every recital, every play

Medic: - medic's never really thought about having kids before - he could honestly live without ever having them - he's giving you a physical, when he notices some of the telltale physical pregnancy signs and decides to give you a test - oh fuck! you were pregnant! - immediate panic mode, he has no idea how to be a father! he offers multiple options for you to undergo surgery to remove it - if you are insistent on having this baby, he decides that he has no choice but to be a dad - at first he ignores this kid, i mean, he is a busy man after all and he never wanted this child in the first place - but this kid follows him EVERYWHERE, and he just cant help but adore the little guy - "ah, it was inevitable really, zhe little scamp just vouldn't leave me alone!" "you know you're allowed to love our kid, right?"

Sniper: - has never wanted kids, it wasn't you, really, he just didn't find them practical - i mean, he lives in a van?? where would you even fit a kid? and surely it wouldn't be healthy to raise one in that sort of environment - he sort of supposes that seeing you holding your baby would be cute, and he wouldn't mind having a little family someday - when you break the news to him, you look visually nervous - shaking, eyes wet and red, probably from crying before you even told him, it breaks his heart seeing you this way - when you finally ask what you should do, despite all common sense, he tells you that he wants to keep the baby - your reaction was all worth it to him - you immediately plan to upsize, looking for a small house together and moving in shortly before the baby is born - he fully comes around to the idea of a child after meeting his own

Spy: - the thought of having a kid turns him off, he is far too emotionally unavailable as it is - you know about scout, and you know the immense guilt and pain spy felt after abandoning him - so when you tell him that you're pregnant, he calmly asks you what you are going to do - he won't talk you out of having the baby, but he will not be active in his child's life whatsoever - you bet that he will, and so, he takes you up on that bet - he has no intent on leaving you despite not wanting this kid, if anything the idea of proving you wrong amuses him more - then, when you aren't around, he spends time with the kid, clothes it, feeds it, plays with it - and when you come home and see them together, it's safe to say he had lost the bet

[1800-lemonadeg1rl]

Anyone other than you

Minors dni!! Masterlist°•☆

Summary- You and your supposed "enemy" get stuck in a cupboard while on a duo mission

Warnings- violence, gunshots, emo Wanda, mean Wanda, forced proximity, claustrophobia, confusion, not proofread!!

A/n - I dont know whether I hate this tbhhh idk whether it's because it took me sm breaks to write it but it feels off idkk

You entered the quinjet while sighing to yourself. How did you let this happen? You thought as you buckled on your seatbelt. Getting put on a duo mission with the one woman on the team who hates your guts. Wanda Maximoff.

You never had any idea what you'd done to make her despise you so much but nothing you ever did seemed to make up for it. Everytime you spoke in a meeting you could feel her stare digging into your soul. The way she'd scowl when she entered what she'd presume to be an empty room only to find you inside. She'd always mumble something in a language you didn't understand before flouncing out the room. Things weren't any better when you were part of a group with her either. She'd barely respond if you asked her something or flat out ignore you.

It wasn't like you hadn't tried to get along with her either, trying to be as friendly with her as you were with everyone else. Offering to make her food, help her with household chores or help out with her mission reports but nothing you did ever seemed to stop her from glaring at you. She wasn't known to be the most outgoing person but you never saw her act this way with anyone else so eventually you gave up deciding it best to ignore her the way she did you.

Now, unfortunately you didn't have that luxury anymore. You'd begged and begged Tony not to put you on this duo mission even contemplating getting ill to avoid it. He had insisted you had to go on this mission apparently you and Wanda had the 'specific' skills skillset for this mission, whatever that meant you knew he was just bullshitting to get you to shut up.

So now here you were getting ready to set off on your two day long stealth mission with the girl who could barely stand to look at you let alone talk and work with you.

☆

You'd arrived at the hotel room you'd be sharing with Wanda and thanked God that you'd got their first and the fact there was two beds. Quickly you threw down your bag on the bed closest to the window and began to check out the rest of the hotel room.

You were smelling the soaps in the bathroom when in clomped Wanda, her doc Martins still managing to make some kind of noise over the soft carpeted floor. She was dressed in a long baggy grey sweater and black skirt with patterned fishnets. Her hands adorned with rings and her short bitten at nails painted black.

"It smells of smoke." She thinks out loud without noticing your precense in the room.

"Yeah sorry about that it's my new signature perfume." You try to joke hoping she might happen to be over her constant anger with you. You study her face through the bathroom mirror as you speak watching out for her reaction. At first you see the possibility of a smile forming on her face and a rosy colour on her cheeks but quickly it's replaced by her signature scowl and a disgusted noise sneaking past her lips.

"Oh. You're here." She talks as if she'd expected someone else to be here despite the many debriefs you'd had together about this mission.

You for one had had enough of her attitude around you acting as if you were something below her. "Yes I'm here like it or not. Can we at least just be civil for the sake of this mission." You groan while walking over to where she's stood, raking your hands through your hair. In response she grumbled out some kind of agreement and that was it.

So far things had been going fine, you'd both kept to your own routine with minimal communication between the two of you. For the most part you'd spent your time exploring the hotel you were staying in. It was cheap and smelt damp. You for sure would be complaining at how you got booked in this dingy one star place once this mission was over. You'd been excited originally as the hotel advertised having a twenty five metre indoor swimming pool which was plenty to keep you occupied however when you inquired at the desk the receptionist, who'd been ignoring you stood there for ten minutes while she read her magazine, told it was shut indefinitely.

Eventually you had to return to the room and when you did Wanda was already fast asleep on her bed, small snores sounding occasionally. You took note of how pretty she was when she wasn't scowling before sliding into your own bed for the night.

☆

You'd done the first half of the mission with relative ease, you and Wanda putting a side your differences for the greater good. Now it seemed as if things were taking a turn for the worse. Upon arrival you'd both scouted the building for any kind of agents or security around the building but found none however now it seemed the building was filling up with them. Two men following behind who you were attempting to fire at and run away from, which is much harder than Natasha makes it look in training.

From the whimper of pain which sounded sounded out and echoed down the corridor you assumed you shot one. This was your chance to lose them and Wanda realised that too as you both picked up the pace of your running.

Out of nowhere she grabbed your arm and dragged you inside a small dark box? No it can't be a box you thought as you looked above you and saw an empty clothing rail. It was a cupboard. Your eyes scanned around the little space you had while trying to avoid eyecontact with Wanda who was leaning over top of you with one hand next to your head against the wall of the cupboard to keep her upright.

Quickly the cramped and uncomfortable space became all too much for you. The lack of oxygen in there made you take shallow breaths and sweat pooled from your forhead. It felt like the walls were closing in. You should get out. No you had to. Trying to move to force yourself out startled Wanda who gripped onto your shoulder to avoid you both tumbling out and compromising your hiding place.

"What are you doing? Just stay still." She whispered angrily. Had her voice always sounding that good up close? At that thought a frown crossed your face and you briefly forgot how badly you needed to get out of this space you were entrapped in. It didn't make you completely forget though as you came to your senses and stopped thinking about how nice Wanda's voice was and remembered how your heart was thundering in your chest and you whole body ached to get out of this cupboard.

"Have to.. to get out." You breathe out, expecting some kind of rude response from her as your breathing further quickens and vision fogs up. Her actual response is nothing you'd ever thought you'd hear her say.

"Look at me y/n." She waits to make sure your making eyecontact with her before continuing. "Its going to be okay, this is all okay and this is nothing you can't do. Just focus on me not the four walls.." her voice was soothing and not completely unlike a lullaby. You still felt unsettled but nothing like before when you were desperate to get out. "Your gonna be fine." She says again as she takes your hand in her own gently squeezing it. The cool feeling of her silver rings against your sweaty palms helping further calm you down as your breathing once again becomes steady.

After a few minutes of silence where you just focus on your breathing and the feeling of Wanda's thumb rubbing against the back of your hand you begin to speak. "Thanks.. I know you don't really like me or anything but I appreciated that a lot."

"Its nothing really... also your stood on my foot." She tells you returning to her usual cold snappy voice. Quickly you moved your foot away muttering apologies as you did, unsure how long you'd been stood on her foot. "I don't hate you either. Well not really."

Your about to question her on why she acts this way around you if she really doesn't hate you but before you can she opens the cupboard door and you both stumble out thankful for the airy space around you. "Don't bring this up y/n." She says before leading the way out leaving you trailing behind a little confused. Was she mean? Did she hate you? Was that all for the mission?

[ask-the-rag-dolly]

okay . while i was writing the essay , i was going on a big spiel about how fandoms often reduce characters to familiar archetypes . then when i finished writing i realized i actually don't know what the Fuck i was yapping about because it all doesn't really apply to the tadc fandom post-ep 2 ? like Cool !! ragatha's an absolute loser of a woman , i think everyone has known that at this point .

basically ragatha's not the Best model for when i want to talk about nice characters being mischaracterized in fandom because i stopped seeing people making her put-together anyway . i can think of other characters that'll fit the thesis better .

i'm only deciding to post what i had down because i think i did say some stuff of note and because people were interested for . some reason ! . just keep in mind that it kind of became a nothingburger .

i'm in the middle of rewriting it to be less about the fandom though and my god it's already around 1118 words what am i doing with my life

also apologies in advance for the walls of text

——— this is not an essay to get you to like ragatha if you’re feeling meh towards her , or even dislike her . opinions are opinions , you have characters that appeal to you and i have mine ! this is just a ramblefest on why i love her , how people characterized her , and commentary on fandom culture as a whole

this is also not meant to bash any headcanons ! like good for you if you see her as the mother figure in the circus found family . the term ‘ mom friend ‘ here is used to describe how people often reduced her and similar characters down to a caretaker role for other characters while ignoring the Depth they have

as i think is clear in this blog by now , my favorite character in a piece of fiction has always been a mentally ill woman . the more complicated the brain , the better . i don’t have a type , but i know more often than not i would gravitate towards characters that are either misunderstood or disliked by most of the fandom

can you guess which category ragatha falls under —

don’t get me wrong , i am NOT generalizing tadc fans here ! the idea of her being a well-put together person lessened around episode 2 which is GREAT because i got to read very cool fics — and i’m not saying you have to know every part of ragatha’s thought processes to talk about her ( though at this point i think i’ve heard enough takes that makes me want to say that — )

‘ nice characters ‘ ( especially female ones ! ) in fandom never have the most pleasant development in my experience . either they will be pushed aside because they’re seen as boring compared to the more brasher characters or they’ll be disliked for the few times they did something seen as ‘ not so nice ‘ . and in the few times where they Are being paid attention , they’ll be put in an arbitrary box that waters down their traits .

in other words , fandoms put characters in boxes . terms like ‘ mom friend ‘ and ‘ cinnamon roll ‘ are those boxes . they're common tropes in media that fandoms typically like . it’s why people were so disappointed to find out that jax is actually an unlikable asshole instead of a ' jerk with a heart of gold ' — these boxes make the characters easy to consume and understand .

as you can tell , i don’t agree with putting characters in boxes ! first of all , how are they supposed to breathe in there ?

secondly , it’s just restricting yourself from genuinely engaging with a piece of media , especially for a character-driven story like tadc . i would be More forgiving of this problem if tadc was a plot-heavy show where the lore’s the main focus , but The Characters Are The Focus , Johnathan . trying to understand the characters personally to extract any potential moral lessons from them Is The Point of those types of stories

thirdly , i call those boxes arbitrary for a reason ; they often don't describe the characters at all , and in some cases , even goes against their characterization . my biggest problem with mom friend ragatha is that it Takes away the things that makes her interesting as a character .

do you know what's so compelling about ragatha ? it's that , believe it or not , she is Not the most reliable . one of the most fascinating things with ragatha in episode two is how it shows her approaching emotions Vs. Pomni approaching emotions .

even though it's unintentional , ragatha can be seen as Dismissive and Overbearing . the way she tried to reassure pomni of not feeling hurt by being left behind can seem Passive-Aggressive . her conversation with kinger shows that she Assumes what the other person thinks without hearing them out . this contrasts against pomni who lets gummigoo speak out his feelings and actually had viable things to say than ' don't worry about it haha '

this contrast is interesting to note because it shows the world of difference between ragatha and pomni's emotional maturity .

you can tell that ragatha can be simple-minded . not in a ' she's a dumbass ' way , but in that she's Reluctant to approach uncomfortable emotions without beaming it with a ray of positivity . like you can tell she thinks that Repressing her emotions to the point she can't feel them is the same as ' processing ' them . all of these are stuff that don't fit the Mature Mom Friend archetype .

and that's Fine !! because she was never meant to be in the role anyway !! there's a common theme of Community and Support in tadc , and that Everyone Has Each Other . ragatha was never meant to be the Glue holding everyone together , she's meant to be a part of the Unit that is the circus .

there's also a conversation to be had about how older female characters — or at least characters that are seen as having stereotypically ' feminine ' traits of being kind and caring — are often being pushed to a reductive , supportive familial role that reinforces gender roles , but you didn't hear it from me !

anyways uh in conclusion ragatha's awesomesauce ok i'm going back to drawing

[antariies]

how to build a chair........... director's cut ∠( ᐛ 」∠)__ this is about to be a very long very self-indulgent post where i just talk about my own writing. i also doodled on all the pages i think it makes the whole thing more fun to go thru. welcome to my ted talk

SIKE before i begin. credit where credit is due, this post was the start of it all. it changed my brain chemistry my jaw was dropped i was in awe i was obsessed and before i even finished it i knew that i would eventually have to make something similar for the commander or else i would be cursed to think about it for the rest of my life. and i Was cursed for like two years every day i would just be like........ is today the day i sit down and draft the commander chair fic of my dreams....... maybe tomorrow......

and then i got accepted as a writer for the gw2 zine ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ the chair idea was actually my backup option in case my first idea didn't pan out, and thank god it didn't, bc this one worked so much better. (still working on my initial idea, just turning it into a full fic! it was wayyy too long to be a zine submission.)

this is the chair i used. i downloaded the assembly instructions and tried out a bunch of different free pdf editors until i found one i liked, which ended up being sedja. if anyone's interested in doing something like this, i recommend printing out the pdf and writing directly on it! it was a lot easier for me to just figure out everything on paper first and then digitalize it after :P here's a picture of my physical copy

okay actually getting into it for real this time !!!!!

1. yeah i could've just erased the ikea logo and left a blank space but then i realized i could turn it into an in-universe joke. and then i ran with it.

2. i ripped this straight from the product description on the website. thanks ikea

3. i'm not sure if anyone went and looked it up, but it's a real item code!

hehe :3c

4. if your commander willingly goes to therapy i'm happy for them but TO ME? you'd have to drag the commander kicking and screaming. it's not that they don't know that something is wrong with them, they know, and they know YOU know. you're just never supposed to talk about it. they don't look at their own psych eval results bc that's none of their business.

5. i normally avoid specifying the commander's race when i write them bc i enjoy the challenge, but for the zine i was assigned to write about a norn commander! as a human main i was uhhhh very ill-equipped. but that just meant i had to study up on my norn lore (•̀ᴗ•́)و i spent hours on the wiki, then went around interviewing norn mains for their opinions, which was great fun :D it all helped me narrow the focus of my piece: joining the war on commander objectification on the side of commander objectification (ㅅ´ ˘ `)♡ and no one self-aggrandizes quite like the norn commander!

and to balance that i knew my narrator had to be patronizing as shitttt. they've clearly been following the commander since the beginning and seem to know a lot of intimate details about their life, despite not thinking very highly of them. wonder who that could be :3c

6. i can't stop making references. so the original part number is actually #122620 in the manual but i've changed it here (and on the previous page!) to #082812, as in 08/28/12, the date gw2 was released! no real reason for it, @dalennaugw suggested it for funsies and i liked it. if you're my pal and i show you a wip and you have a cool idea for it, chances are i Will put that shit in. hi dale if you're reading this

7. another thing about me. i loveeee repetition. here the word "over" is repeated four times to match the picture. honestly a lot of the creative process for this piece was just staring at the pages and figuring out how to tie the pictures to the commander in ways that weren't extremely corny or trite. idk why i enjoy writing like this when i could be frolicking in the beautiful prosaic meadows of a word doc instead but. it's like i see a tiny little restrictive box and i'm like OH BOY can't wait to think inside of that thing!!! i like when the format matters just as much as the content and in some cases informs the content. am i making any sense here. well all you need to know is that i'm a virgo and my favorite book is house of leaves

7. aw fuck just realized i wrote 7 twice. whatever i'm not changing it this is 7 part two now. the theme of my piece is glory, what it means to the norn commander, and how far they're willing to go for it.

8. does norn culture place emphasis on seeking individual glory Yes are norn also very community-oriented Also Yes. i think it's common to see norn kids napping together in a big pile, usually after they've worn themselves out playing games outside. it makes sense practically (apes together warm) and socially (pack bonding good) but that's just my hc. growing up i used to share a bed with my cousins all the time so it's normal to me.

a young, naive not-yet-commander, with no real combat experience, has no point of reference to compare a "blaze of glory" to. but the way everyone talks about it, it must be a good thing. a wonderful thing. a reward fit for a life well-fought and a legend hard-earned. so they imagine it must feel like falling asleep surrounded by the people they love, who love them in turn.

9. .........i was playing a lot of ace attorney when i wrote this page. i wish i was joking 👍🏼

10. ohhh shit the truth come OUT this whole chair thing was all a ploy just so i could write about the departing. again.

will i ever stop thinking about her. reply hazy, try again later.

11. out of all the pages, this one has the most emphasis on text placement, like comparing the enlarged picture of the screw to a sword, the numbers counting the screws, and "up up up" being arranged to mimic a wisp of smoke.

i also wanted to lean into the viking/norse mythology influences with my word choice.

12. more nods to norn culture. i didn't know they referred to the six human gods as "spirits of action" until i was doing the research for this piece :O

and the domain of the lost is called a hall of ghosts....... cause valhalla.....

13.

i'm sorry this so funnyyy. SAYS the guy who literally clawed their way back to life for a rematch.

me when i'm in a sore loser competition and my opponent is the COMMANDER!!!

14. arms as in "limbs" and also arms as in "armaments" :•]

15. haha get it because the picture makes it look like there are two mirrored speech bubbles while the text paints two opposing interpretations of the norn commander. one that's selfless and humble versus one that's selfish and vainglorious.

16. and the best part is IT DOESN'T MATTER which one is true bc at the end of the day no matter what their motivation, balthazar is dead by their hand. ofc i'm of the opinion that the most compelling interpretation of the commander is both, simultaneously. contradictions are good for the soul.

17. i could've name-dropped kas, the only person present that would do something like that, but i felt it was better to leave it ambiguous.

18. low-hanging fruit. the metaphor was so obvious here but i had to do it. for the culture

19. the alternate title for this piece was "THIS COULD BE GLORY". "how to build a chair" was only supposed to be a placeholder title til i figured out a better one, but the innocuousness of it grew on me. also i came up with the other one too late and had already advertised under the chair title lol

20. my first instinct was to end it with something more reassuring, like "what you have built so far is enough" but that would've been an ooc switch-up for a narrator who has been nothing but snide and detached this whole time. gotta stick to my guns

21.

obligatory chair joke as the last line. for realsies though it’s meant to be an earnest appeal to the commander to take a break, to have a seat, but it’s also a challenge. are they willing to lean on their friends? are the bonds they’ve forged strong enough to hold their weight? are they willing to put their faith in someone else’s hands? are they brave enough to try? well. only one way to find out.

also guess what that wasn’t even the real last page of the manual. it's THIS

but no way i was letting this be the image we ended on. IT LOOKS LIKE A DICK AND BALLS!!!

and on that note, THANK YOU if you made it this far!! a very special shout-out to @hawkepockets, my lovely boyfriend and beta reader, without whom this piece would not be nearly as polished. i would bring him pages to look over and he would say Scrap half of those lines you can do better than that. kill your darlings. i would complain and argue for a few minutes then we would revise. rinse and repeat until we had honed this thing to perfection. i can't stress enough the importance of having a second pair of eyes on your work throughout your creative process, even better if it's someone who challenges you. i don't even pay him 🫶🏼

and if there was anything i didn't cover that you still have questions about, please feel free to shoot me an ask! (ㅅ´ ˘ `)♡ thanks for reading! see u later dudes ;P

[natashascumslut]

will there be a nat perspective for why ?

yes, i love this idea!

WHY 2 | natasha romanoff

SUMMARY: Natasha’s perspective of my fic ‘why.’

WARNINGS: Angst.

a/n - i’m sorry this is so short 😪 i promise ill write a long fic at some point.. anyway enjoy!

You paused as the words hit your ears. excuse me? Her eyes went wide when you didn’t answer. You forced words out, not wanting to stay completely quiet.

“What?” It came out flat, it wasn’t what you intended. You moved your hands from her waist, bringing them up to your face to push hair behind your ears nervously as you waited for an answer.

“I love you.” You tensed as you watched tears pool in her eyes. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. Did you love her back? You should, you did. But god, you were scared, the idea of being in love with this girl was so precious but so scary.

You tried to speak as she stepped back, stumbling backwards as she went for the door. You wanted to move, to hurry over to her and tell her to calm down, that it was okay, that you care.

Instead, you stayed put as you watched her leave the small apartment. Your feet felt as if they’d been concreted to the floor, unable to move. You should’ve gone after her, you shouldn’t have let her go out alone in the rain.

You thought you were ready, that when the words would leave her lips, they’d leave yours too with ease. But you clearly weren’t, you felt stupid, you should go out there and tell her to come back in. You could sit her down to explain how you felt about all this, tell her that you were scared because you’d never been taught love growing up and now you had it and god was the feeling terrifying.

Often when people fall in love, they tell the other person ‘I’ve never loved someone more.’, and a lot of the time it’s not true. But for you it was and it was so intimidating, you saw her in everything. You couldn’t leave the house without being reminded of her, the bees, the stars, everything somehow spun back to her, and you didn’t like that.

You went from being perfectly independent to physically unable to live without her, you felt like a burden, always wanting to be around her, close to her.

You finally moved from your statued place in the hall to the couch, you let out a loud sigh as you slumped into it. You wish you knew more about this, that you could talk to her about how you feel, but we all know that’s not something you are good at. God you were so new to all this, you just wanted to call her, tell her to come back, to come home.

But you didn’t. Instead, you didn’t contact her for three weeks. You tried to, sitting in front of your phone with a text typed out on multiple occasions but never sending it. And the longer you went, the more it would look like you were taking the piss if you texted her.

So you didn’t, you let go. Well, you tried to let go, it wasn’t as easy as you thought. You’d been able to let go of so many things in your life, but for some reason, this wouldn’t leave.

“I know but I can’t do it now, it’s been three weeks.” You sighed into the phone as you wandered through the aisles of a store, your breath hitched as your eyes fell on the very girl you were talking about. Speak of the devil.

You immediately hung up the phone, shoving it in your back pocket. You weren’t sure what to say, if you should say anything at all. You could just run away, leave the store and make sure you’d never run into her again. But seeing her like this was heartbreaking, you went from waking up next to her to standing feet away from her in a grocery store after unintentionally breaking her heart.

She looked so tired, god you hated what you’d done, why did it have to be so hard to tell someone you loved them?

You could say it right now, nice and easy, four small words. I love you too. You opened your mouth to speak, thinking that maybe the words would come out, but her name did instead. She turned, and you wanted to die when her eyes met yours. What had you done?

“Why didn’t you go after me?” You winced at her words, I tried, I wanted to I swear. I was just scared, I love you, I love you so much. “I... I don’t know.” Why was it so hard for you to say the words? You watched her with guilt, how could you do this to someone? You had to say it, you had to tell her you loved her. You couldn’t.

“I do care about you.” You said, maybe this would be enough, maybe she would understand what you meant. She didn’t, you could tell in her body language that she didn’t believe you. “Then why haven’t I heard from you for three weeks?” oh.

You shuffled awkwardly, your fingers immediately going to your rings as a stress response as you tried your hardest to rack your brain for something, literally anything. You couldn’t think of why, you had no excuse, you were just scared but you couldn’t tell her that.

“Forget it.” No, no! Please. She turned, and your eyes widened. Please come back, I love you. Why wouldn’t the words come out? It was like they were stuck in your throat, you knew you meant them, but they wouldn’t come out.

You watched her walk away, standing hopelessly in the aisle. You tried to move, but it was no different than three weeks ago, your feet anchored to the floor. Maybe this was for the best, love was stupid anyways.

i love you too.

[thesporkidentity]

what i love about today's and yesterday's entries is that, up until now, we've mostly seen just the worst (the absolute worst, dear god, man) of seward, both as a doctor and a man, and now we're just starting to see, in contrast to that, some of the best of him.

he can't figure out what's wrong with lucy and thinks it might be something mental, but instead of making up his mind that he knows best what's happening and imposing that over all subsequent interactions like he did with renfield, he acknowledges he that really he has no idea and calls for help rather than insist he has full mastery over the situation (certainly puts him ahead of my doc when my chronic illnesses cropped up...). where he treats renfield as a puzzle to be solved rather than a person, he treats lucy with warmth and compassion.

and then comes van helsing. up until now all we've seen of jack outside of his depression diary and patient notes has been The World's Most Uncomfortable Proposal, which all paint him as a very stiff, cold man. and now suddenly van helsing is here, and he speaks so effusively of jack (and jack of him) that he sounds like a man we've never met. his quick thinking saved van helsing's life? hand? arm? from gangrene. (from this this and later entries, it starts to seem jack might actually be as good of a regular doctor and surgeon as he is a terrible psychiatrist) then van helsing almost immediately roasts him in front of lucy, and rather than getting offended at the disrespect (as he did when renfield refused to acknowledge him as an eagle and not a sparrow) he just takes it and rolls with it to make lucy more comfortable talking with van helsing.

(actually, not to get too into spoilers but, literally everything we learn about jack from van helsing in later entries feels like a complete revelation on his character just. my god, what was their life like together in amsterdam i have so many questions???)

and on top of all that just, the entire tone of his writing has changed. it's basically overflowing with warmth and affection for all these people. his care for lucy (sweet, as she always is), his heartfelt sympathy of arthur's difficult situation, his endless admiration of the professor, and just the very obvious love he has for them all pouring off the page contrasts so starkly with the cold and clinical "professional" tone of his previous entries. (and kudos to jonny sims and re: dracula for really capturing that contrast)

it just feels like up to now we've been looking at a flat picture of his character only to realize that there's an entire dimension we hadn't even realized was there. and it makes him so much more interesting as one of the grayest characters, morally, in the novel. which part is more "true" or are they both true? and how do we (and he) even begin to reconcile those so different sides of him? and how is dracula's proximity going to affect which of these sides he leans into now?

anyway, i just love morally complex characters, and it's just really interesting to me that stoker chose to do this by starting off with his "oh...yikes" moments before showing us any of his redeeming qualities rather than the other way around, when it's so much harder to change a bad first impression than a good one.

[fog-kid]

I saw the wiki writing about q!Jaiden's death and got an idea. Here's to the end of Parrotduo

Roier doesn't believe in gods, he doesn't believe any creature could be as cruel to orchestrate this Hell. A lot of people in the island do though, when they talk about certain things that have no logic behind them.

Like when Spreen went missing, that was okay. Roier never let go, he's not the type to forget, but he could live his life normally because at least he had somewhere to place his hate.

One day, a normal day, no big fights with codes or books from white bears, just a simple day, the island realized he was dead.

That's when Roier got bitter because all this hate was left with no vessel and when it all sprang back to him, he had no choice but to look at it. Nowhere to shove the love that was tangled between all his ill wishings.

He doesn't believe in gods, but that time when everyone came to the same conclusion, they decided there was more to it all.

Today, Roier is in a cellar when he finds out. He can almost see it being written, Purgatory, not arriving on the ship, nuclear bomb. If there are gods, they are awfully descriptive and he once again wishes to be a non believer.

He hugs his legs, guilt nagging at the base of his throat and ending at the nails that dig into his pants, because he has to mourn in a body that's not his. He almost doesn't want to picture her, she's too good for this foreign brain. Doied doesn't deserve to even come close to the pain that's stitching his eyes, he has no place where Jaiden is concerned.

Still, there's nothing to do, and his tears are more him than the cheeks they slide down, because him and Jaiden, that could never be about a body. That was deeper, so much deeper. All of a sudden there's a hole in his chest where she was supposed to be and he knows there's a piece of him lost somewhere that should have stayed in Jaiden too.

That would be it then, he feels it swell inside him and break his ribcage, all of the words he never got to say and the smiles he never got to watch. The fight they put up, the nights they cried themselves to sleep. More than a heartbreak, it's a matter of soul.

"Is there anyone left?" he wonders aloud when the dizziness from days without sleep draws a perfect picture of her in front of him. Her wings look ethereal like never before

"Where do I put all this love if there's no one left?" he tries asking. Her smile was always too much like a setting sun.

She doesn't answer but it's clear to Roier like it was clear to her when she stayed. They never had answers, they never asked each other these questions because the other was always wondering the same thing.

He wonders now, alone and nothing but a mind trapped in treacherous flesh, if she will manage to find Bobby. He wonders if he has anything left to fight for. He wonders, for not more than a second, what it'll take to see her again. See them again.

And off she goes like everyone Roier comes to love. He should be used to this by now. He's not.