#he’s an amazing dad

[kennahjune]

Teen Dad AU

Tag list: @live0rdive @y4r3luv @jonesn4coffee @sofadofax @jackiemonroe5512 @sensationalsunburst @scarlet-malfoy @l393ndjean @asspirin-s @fandomz-brainrot

Tag list is open until I finish this series so feel free to ask to be added!!

.

Steve Harrington had a son.

An actual son.

And his name was Louie.

And little Louie Harrington was Steve’s pride and joy.

But there was a problem. Steve was 17. 17 years old and with a son.

It’s fine.

Martha Timbley was the mothers name. “Was” because after she gave birth and dropped Louie off with an extensive apology, her parents packed everything up and took her to New York.

So Martha Timbley was the mother, until she had to leave.

Then Nancy might’ve been, but she met Louie after they had already broken up. Nancy was content with simply knowing about Louie’s existence. Steve wouldn’t hold it against her, really.

Louie was Steve’s pride and joy, as said before, and he loved to talk about him to people.

Except Steve is 17. And the only friends he has are a bunch of 8th graders and his ex girlfriend and her new boyfriend. 99% of which don’t even know about Louie’s existence.

So Steve didn’t get to talk about Louie as much as he’d like.

Speaking of the baby Harrington, there was a soft cry from Steve’s bedroom. Steve, who had been in the bathroom getting ready for a shower, rushed in to pick up a now crying baby Louie.

“Hey hey hey, it’s alright baby it’s alright. What’s the matter honey? You hungry? I bet you are, huh?”

Steve loved talking to Louie. Which makes him sound pathetic. Louie’s only 6 months old at this point in time. And for him to be Steve’s favorite person to talk to?

That’s just kind of sad.

But the point still stands.

Steve carried Louie carefully downstairs and into the kitchen. Steve never put Louie down while making the bottle, gently bouncing on his feet and rocking back and forth.

The bottle was easy enough to make. Steve took it into the living room and sat on the couch with Louie in his arms. Little Louie drank the bottle right up to the delight of Steve. His big brown eyes stared right at him while his little baby hands curled around his ears. Steve chuckled quietly.

Little Louie had Steve’s eyes, much to his delight. But he had a mix of his and Martha’s hair, curly and mostly brown with blond highlights— like Steve’s— but had a ginger tint to it that reflected Martha’s firey curls.

Louie finished the bottle and Steve burped him gently. It was nearing only 5 PM on that Tuesday in August of 1984, but Steve felt himself growing tired and worn with exhaustion. Louie was a sucker to put to sleep and to keep asleep, often waking in the night with screams and cries and needing to be held in order to fall to sleep.

Which was fine with Steve. Well— the holding part. He didn’t really like the screaming and crying part but that was to be expected with babies of Louie’s age.

Steve liked holding baby Louie during the night. But he often feared that he’d roll over and crush the boy. So, Steve let Louie sleep on the bed with him while surrounded by pillows at all times.

It was around 6 PM now on that fine Tuesday. Steve finally plated up a small dinner for himself of pasta. He let Louie gnaw on a couple of noodles while Steve rocked him gently.

It was nearing 7 when Steve finally out Louie down for the first time in nearly 3 hours. Louie wasn’t asleep, not quite yet. But Steve tucked him in and surrounded him in pillows as if he was.

Steve turned the radio on and turned it down real low. He let the soft tunes of some country song lull little Louie to sleep.

Louie fell asleep clutching a small bear Martha gave him. Steve was upset that she couldn’t be in Louie’s life. Even if there wasn’t anything between the two of them Louie deserved to know his mother cared. Steve sighed.

As much as he wanted to collapse on his side of the bed, he refrained.

Instead, Steve pulled out a duffel bag from under his bed and set to work. His parents would be expected home in two days, and he already knew what the outcome would be.

They’d enjoyed their trip to where-ever-the-fuck for the past 7 months, they’d made sure Steve knew how much they didn’t miss him over the phone when they asked about the house and neighbors more than him.

But that’s fine. It’s whatever. Steve didn’t need their approval. He’d stopped caring about it after sophomore year; when he’d won his first game with the winning shot and they hadn’t bothered to say anything outside of “you should be doing that all the time”.

So really? Fuck them.

But they were currently Steve’s only means of housing.

So he’s kind of fucked.

But he packed the duffle bag nice and tight. He packed the bag with his clothes and a blanket and moved to pull out a suitcase he still had from his first (and last) trip with his parents when he was 9.

Into the suitcase went most of Louie’s stuff; clothes, toys, extra bottles that weren’t going to be needed until Thursday. And then he packed one of the smaller pockets with his important things; birth certificates and the papers showing that his car was in fact his.

He already had a diaper bag with the rest of Louie’s stuff. He kept it packed all the time for when he could convince Nancy to babysit for him. Like tomorrow.

Tomorrow, Steve would have work from 9 in the morning to 5 in the afternoon. Not ideal but he needs the hours. Nancy would be over by 8:30 with a promise of watching Louie.

Steve doesn’t know how Nancy hasn’t clued anyone in on Louie’s existence. But as much as he wanted to question it he didn’t fancy pushing his luck.

With the bags packed he set them aside by his door. He’d put them in the car tomorrow when he left for work. But for now, he all but collapsed on his bed. He had the vague feeling of Louie wrapping his little hands around his finger before he officially passed out.

…

First part is officially out!! I’m working on my s3 steddie part 4 behind the scenes but that should be out soon as well. Expect part 2 of this sometime in the following week.

Second Part:

[inbabylontheywept]

i did wrestling in middle school. on one hand, i was actually quite good at it, which was nice. being good at any sport was a new achievement for me. on the other hand, i was bi, and i was trying very hard not to notice that i was bi, and getting folded into knots by very kind, very muscular dorks made that task somewhat difficult.

adding fire to the problem was that my parents and my grandparents wanted to watch my matches, because they were very proud that their Gangly Nerd Son was actually Sporting, and they wanted to cheer me on. which would've been sweet and all, but if there are four people you do not want there during a key part of your Burgeoning Sexual Awakening, it is your mom and your dad and your grandma and your grandpa.

right? i mean, imagine some guy's got your head in his armpit, and you're going you know, old sweat smells bad, but fresh sweat has a sort of and then you make eye contact with your grandpa in the stands and you remember you're swearing spandex so if you pop a boner people aren't just going to be able to see the outline, they're going to be able to count the veins, and the only way you will be able to restore your family's honor after that would be by moving to siberia and renouncing joy, forever. that, or lift your entire body up by your kneck then twist 180 degrees without paralyzing yourself.

it’s a lot of pressure, is what i’m saying.

still it did motivate me to win my matches really fast. because i was so tall and skinny, i was stupidly good at the double leg takedown, and then once someone was knocked down, i'd just do the half nelson and kind of flip em over for the pin. then the ref would count to three and i’d win. EZPZ.

i had one match where that went great. won in the first ten seconds, sat back down, and prepared myself for a good hour or two of doing fuck all. didn't even feel bad the parents/grandparents were gonna be bored. the matches went up from me in 5 pound increments (i was in the 115 lbs division) and it was going great until we got to the 145 lbs division. the other school's wrestler stepped onto the mat, and she turned out to be a girl so our guy flipped, because for straight guys, wrestling a girl is not a pleasant experience.

i'm not entirely unsympathetic. my experience wrestling dudes was definitely a little traumatic. but also, i dealt. guy could've dealt too. instead, he refused to wrestle, and the coach went - fine. not even worth fighting over.

so he went to the 140 pounder, and that guy said, nosir, my mom said mormons can't wrestle girls. next guy down, 135 pounder, now he knew he could pull the same card and thus did. 130 pounder, 125, both tapped out. he got to the 120 guy, and that guy was catholic, but he said he was considering being mormon, and thus would have to pass. as a precaution.

coach blew up a little at that. he said "is there anyone - anyone - on this entire goddamn team that is willing to wrestle a girl?" and then he pointed at me and said "YOU. MAT. GO."

and i'll be real, if i'd been paying more attention, i'd have pulled the mormon card too, but i'd just been putting all that audio into a buffer file because i was reading, so i was halfway across the mat before i even processed what had been said and by then it was too late to turn back.

still i had a plan. and my plan - my beautiful, perfect plan - was to do what i'd always done. tackle, flip, pin, win. sit down. read. bore my family to death. move on.

i got the first part right. she was bigger than me, but she wasn't taller. just an incredibly stout woman. god built me like a snake with glasses, just as he built her like a combat cube. the problem was the half nelson. soon as she was down, i tried hooking my arm under hers from behind and for both genders, the defense for this move is just clamping your arms really fucking tight against your sides. if you're a guy, that's whatever, but if you're a girl - especially if you're god's chosen combat cube - that pins your opponents hand right against your boob.

so, i got the hook in, she clamped, my whole arm pressed against something soft, my coach was yelling THE HALF NELSON. BABYLON! JUST FINISH IT! FINISH THE HALF NELSON! and i was just trying to press hard enough to finish, when then my brain went

...oh.

and i flipped out. of course i flipped out. i like girls, and touching a boob is an elemental experience, and i was not ready. i was not prepared. i had not committed the sacred rites. i recoiled like i'd just brushed my arm against the surface of the sun, stood up, and backed away. nobody in the room knew why i'd given up. all they saw was me, right about to win, suddenly flailing around and scrambling. so everyone started screaming at me to just get the half nelson again, and i couldn't really yell back there's a fuckin' boob in the way and it was very distressing, and the only way i could think of to make them stop was just doing it over again the right way.

so i did.

i hunkered down and prepared myself for Wrasslin' Attempt #2: The Sequel.

i knocked her down again, EZPZ. i went for the half nelson again, but she knew what i was about to do so she super clamped, and i knew she was gonna super clamp, so i wound my arm back like a pop-eye cartoon punch before swinging my arm through the gap between her bicep and her side, but the amount of time i spent winding back super signalled what i was about to to do, which gave her time to clamp even harder, which somehow redirected the entire force of the popeye punch to the bottom of her bra.

it spat out a single boob the same way an action hero might spit out one single tooth after getting a solid crack across the jaw. as if to say:

*ptooie.* "that all you got?"

i did not actually see this. my experience was that first there was an arm, then there was a bit of boob, but i was braced, i was ready, forward at all costs, tatakae motherfuckers, and then the boob went away, and i didn't know where it went but my team, and the audience, and everyone who was in front of me, they all gasped like i just kicked them in the stomach. except for my coach. he was behind me, and thus one of the four people in the room who did not see the boob. now my mom, my dad, my grandma, and my grandpa, they all got flashed but nooooooo, coach thunderbutt was behind me, and he didn't see shit so he was still yelling NOOOOOO BABYLON WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST FINISH THE NELSON! GO FOR THE KILL! BABYLON! BABYLON!

but i did not go for the kill. i stood up and she stuffed her boob back real fast, and we just kind of circled each other awkwardly until time ran out and i won on points. that's not technically allowed, but the ref had some mercy on me.

my coach did not.

i barely had time to sit down before he strode over to the bench to chew me out.

"babylon," he said, in that very calm way people get when they're too pissed to yell. "why didn't you pin?"

and i didn't know how to say well coach, i tried, but there was a boob, and it kept getting in the way, and my mom was watching, and so was my dad, and so was his dad, and his mom, and god (like bible god) and that's a can of worms because i'm pretty sure he was already mad at me, and i'm wearing spandex, and i think i might have to move to siberia, so instead i said

"i uh. i forgot how to do the half nelson."

which is actually impossible. forgetting how to do the half nelson is like forgetting how to swallow your spit.

and he looked at me, like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked through him like i'd just survived my 250th day in a trench at verdun, and he said: fine.

fine.

but we're all going to practice it for an hour tomorrow because you forgot.

and then he left.

and my buddies had the gall to be salty about it. i got so many comments saying "dude, why didn't you just tell him the truth?" and i said "you can if you care so damn much. you could've wrestled the girl too. maybe someone else should do the hard thing today."

but they didn't. so the next day, we did an hour of half nelson drills, and i spent a decent amount of time getting thrown around the mat, and it was pleasant in exactly the way that i hated and the year after that, to the surprise of everyone but myself, i quit wrestling and joined the trivia team.

and if you want more reasons to love my mom, my grandpa joked after the match that i might have to talk to my bishop about it, and my mom told him he would be allowed to make jokes after he stood in front of a crowd of 110 people in spandex underpants while wrestling a woman that was not his wife.

he paused for almost five seconds after that. then he said: aw. hell. sorry babylon.

and i'd have preferred my apology from god, but getting it from him was pretty good too.

[crowkip]

ᯓ★

[creachiergh]

kinger locked the fuck in with this episode. not even because of the shotgun thing or him being protective of pomni. just look at him.

[fanfictionroxs]

The world calls you 'breakbones', but the first word your son thinks of to describe his father, is 'gentle'.

Harwin Strong the man that you are. Best father in Westeros!

[calamaricollie]

Behold, my sappiest (and longest) Lari comic yet, I hope ya'll enjoy some tooth-rottingly sweet fluff UvU

More of me rambling under the cut:

Honestly I was so worried about posting this one, I wrote it when I was really needing some comfort so it turned out very sweet, less humorous than my other shitten stuff, but hey if you've watched and liked my animatic that's what you're here for anyways >:)

As much as I love feral Nari I just love writing him being all soft and chilled out tbh, this cat has been fully domesticated over years of TLC (Tender Lamb Care), I just hope others like it as much as I do too :p

[egophiliac]

Serious question.

Do you think we’ll see the parents/family of each of the guys???

Like, We’ve been TEASED with Ace’s brother, that I’m starting to think it’s just a reference to that Alice in Wonderland park character in Japan and nothing else….

Jack’s family, Ruggie’s grandma, Falena, Maleficia, Ms.Rosehearts, Just now Vil’s dad is in the picture which I am really happy but now I’m wondering about his mom, and so Deuce’s mom.

I mean, some HAVE a silhouette!! It could mean they do have a design in the making/ready to show. They could’ve shown us Falena in the Tamashina (hope I said that correctly) event, but didn’t (prolly to make Leona not so σ(▼□▼メ) and it’s understandable)

Anyhow, any idea/headcannon about this? Who do you want to see first?

I'm wondering if everyone might eventually get a travel event? like they've now introduced with Vil's that it doesn't have to be specifically hometowns, so that opens things up a lot! (especially if they have to figure out how to do three separate Coral Sea visits) (how would that even work otherwise)

but yeah, I hope everyone gets a chance! there's a lot of backstory characters I would LOVE to meet. :D :D :D though I do think some of them don't really suit the more light-hearted tone of the events (pretty sure you're right about that being why Falena wasn't in Tamashina-Mina, that would've just been. too much for Leona.) so like...we're probably not ever going to meet the Rosehearts. or Maleficia (although I maintain that this would be THE funniest possible way to introduce her outside of the main story, and actually I would love this a lot, can we please Twst) (I need to see her to put Malleus in a froofy little outfit and tell him what a handsome boy he is). but they've sprung surprises like Kifaji on us, and honestly anyone who shows up and tells embarrassing stories about characters' childhoods is good in my book!

characters off the top of my head who I most want to meet: literally any of the Zigvolts, Azul's mom, Ace's brother, Che'nya's grandfather (<- I think he would be a good one for Riddle) (please just any non-terrible adult in his life), any member of Rook's family because I need to see how they managed to produce him, and...really just whoever they can come up with for Silver.

[divineandmajesticinone]

4 MINUTES (2024) I EP 5 "How about this. How much do you want? Give me a number."

[wowa-bublord]

My family finally got together the fundraiser for my dad! I don't know what to write here. Every bit of help I've gotten has been amazing, if you're willing and able to donate anything I'd really appreciate it. And if you donate anything, you can send me a DM and I'll draw something for you in exchange!!

if you can't donate, please reblog or share in any way.

[ashenchorus]

zagreus is so older sister its crazy. he suffered and bore the brunt of the worst of his fathers personality so melinoe didnt have to

[yo-yo-yoshiko]

Watching this man and his misfortunes like a sporting event.

plus a closer look at these cause i legit pulled an eye muscle drawing them...

[sophsun1]

Chimney & Jee-Yun 💖

9-1-1 – 8.05: Masks

[hailsatanacab]

“To whom,” Alfred rasps, pausing to clear his throat and establish his sense of decorum, “May I ask, to whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?”

The creature stops, blinks its owlish eyes at him, and lets out a bark of laughter.

“Forgive me,” it says, still chuckling lightly, raising a hand to rub at the back of his neck. Alfred is suddenly struck by the feeling that this creature is not as timeless, nor as old or as wizened, as it wished to present itself. “I am making a terrible first impression. My name is Phantom, current High King of the Infinite Realms.”

Contractual Obligations by me

I couldn't get the image of Ghost King Danny out of my head, so here he is!! Acrylic on canvas, and I'm so happy with it - he came out a lot better than I thought he would 😅

[aro-arttorneys]

Happy "it wasn't christmas yet!" to those who celebrate 🥳

[pfffsfic]

I thought too hard about the circumstances of the (not really an AU, more of a series of loosely connected drawings) Rob Cipher AU. unfortunately, I came up with this.

[mellomadness]

everyone’s already talked about how welly boots by the amazing devil was definitely written while joey was reading the witcher books and working on the show, and how geralt and ciri’s relationship are definitely influential in the song’s creation but like. has anyone talked about the song as is?

it’s from the perspective of a too-soon dead father, telling a story to—presumably—his living daughter whose ears can no longer hear his words and yet he continues to tell the tale. and as she grow up he continues to speak to her, always in her corner, even and especially when she breaks down and screams her hatred toward him in her grief—“I’ve been so scared, you left me here behind, do you not care? how the fuck am I supposed to carry on… without you here?”—he is still there, willing with everything he has left that she will still feel his love, feel the comfort in the ghostly hand on her back, feel his strength and take solace in him, even though they are worlds apart now.

and as she stands in the grass outside her childhood home she feels the wind whip at her, enveloping her as the storm rolls in. she turns to go back inside and freezes.

a brand new pair of scarlet welly boots sits on the front porch. just like the last pair her father bought her before he died. and she finally knows.

he never left