#i wanna expand on it later maybe

[mariusslonelysoul]

do you think that leonard mccoy, born and raised in the american south, who before starfleet was a -damn good- country doctor, who is a man of medicine, of science, but who still keeps certain age old traditions and convictions, who despite being in space and around all sorts of new technologies and unknown aliens never forgets his humanity, and indeed keeps his captain and crew grounded, sometimes perhaps exceedingly so, who would never use god or human religion as an excuse or a reason but still he was raised in it, and either because of respect, fondness, wariness or tradition he holds some beliefs still

do you think that leonard, when he realises he could maybe, just maybe save jim, feels the slightest bit of struggle from within him, because how dare he, a simple man, try to bring somebody from the death, who gave him the right to even consider it. but he ignores that voice in his head, barely even hears the words in the first place, his hands -the steadiest hands in the galaxy- never shake as he does it, because this was jim, jim who is just as messed up as him but covers it with charm that isn't even fake, jim who smiles too wide and too sharp to cover his incredible heart, jim who has carved his place with bloody fingernails deep into leonard's very soul. jim, who leonard manages to save, to bring back, miraculously perhaps, but the words feels wrong, tainted

do you think that leonard, once jim is breathing again if unconscious, finally takes a moment to breathe too, looking at jim, and is suddenly invaded by nausea, because how dare he cheat death, who is he, who gave him the right to play with nature like that, and a voice, almost familiar, garbled as if it were many voices he once knew put together, screams at him from deep inside his mind, threatening to twist his body and mind like he twisted life and death, damning him. and yet as quick as it came, leonard shuts it, because he doesn't care, he may have traded his life, his sould, made a deal with the devil when he used science to cheat death, but jim is back, jim is alive, alive, alive

[crybaby-bkg]

Choso who does work on the side for some extra cash as an nsfw audiobook reader.,…………..!!.!!!!!!

[harbingersecho]

[jovialsnerdzone]

I’ve had the concept of a slasher movie AU rattling around in my brain for a while… not sure if I’m gonna make anything huge out of it but the idea is there

[puppppppppy]

what if i snapped and made an oc carrd

[grimalkinmessor]

We need a fucking Light Yagami Bashing tag because holy FUCK

[lovevalley45]

the scene with kenna asking if she can show sol a memory like. killed me. but also it made me think abt so many things,,, like the sol n kenna parallels obv but also au where kenna became a synth knight in ezry bc she went to reunite with krugan

[photon-crest-art]

Weird birds I found outside today.

[gothsuguru]

when y’all do dialogue do you just base line write the quotes and THEN later on add extra info? 🤔 also damn how do people Overall write their paragraphs so well

[vhstown]

i have like 10 billion different miles g thoughts and ive already posted so much about him so i feel like i should make another headcanon post but idk if they're really headcanons i actually believe in and would use in my writing or are just silly "what ifs"

[ji-lixie]

will today be the day i finally finish off the last bounty in skull caverns... pepper rexes please spawn :(

[wonderjanga]

One of my favourite Headcanons about Billy is that as Captain Marvel, what ever he eats literally is just gone.

Like, Batman’s doing X-rays on Cap after he saw the man swallow Kryptonite to dispose of it, and he discovers that what ever Cap eats is just gone

Anyway, that’s my prompt for you if you want it

Thank you! I wanna add onto it though.

When Bruce first saw Captain Marvel eat a rock, he was concerned. People didn’t eat rocks as far as he knew.

Batman: “Captain, spit that out right now.”

Marvel: *chewing* “Why?

Batman: “Because that could severely damage your throat and teeth?”

Marvel: “What?” *swallows and holds his nose before steam comes out of his ears* “ ‘scuse me. Anyways, what?

The fact Marvel was so unbothered was a worry in itself but Bruce forced himself to think. He, nor anyone else on the league, knew what Marvel exactly was. For all they knew, Cap was some type of alien and that was normal for him. Either that or it was just tasty to him. After all, Clark used to eat metal also because it was tasty. (The Kryptonian says he grew out of it, but Bruce still catches him sneaking bullets) Maybe his species are like those birds that eat rocks to digest food without choking. Though, that might not be it, considering Cap just sounded like he was eating rock candy. There’s also his durability which probably meant his throat and teeth wouldn’t be damaged. And then there’s the fact that even if it did clog up the Captain’s airways, Bruce is 67 percent sure he’d be fine because he’s also 67 percent sure Marvel breathes just for show. Bruce has observed the other man stop breathing mid meeting for exactly fifteen minutes and thirteen seconds so maybe he absorbs oxygen through his skin? Also what was the steam that came out of his ears? Was it even steam? Is that how he digests food- oh no Marvel’s trying to eat another rock.

Batman: “Captain, put the rock down.”

Marvel: “But I’m hungry!”

Batman: “I’ll buy you food if you stop.”

Bruce was able to get him to stop. For a bit. He went right back to eating rocks when he left Bruce’s sight. After many instances of him catching Marvel doing this, he just gave up.

Robin!Jason: “B?”

Batman: “Yes, Robin?”

Robin!Jason: “What’s Cap, doing?”

Marvel: *squatting down and picking up pebbles to shove in his mouth*

Batman: “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” *stares at Billy for like a hot second* “Go play with Speedy.”

Marvel: *He holds his nose and lets steam come out again*

Robin!Jason: *sound amazing and concerned* “What was that??”

Batman: “I… don’t know.”

This all came to a head when Marvel’s rock eating tendencies expanded past normal human earth rocks.

Supes: “Get rid of it!”

Marvel: “AH!” *panics and eats it*

*loud silence*

Supes: “OH MY RAO??? SPIT THAT OUT???” *absolutely horrified*

Marvel: “I can’t!”

Supes: “WHAT DO YOU MEAN IT CAN’T??” *uses x-ray vision to see it* “WHERE DID IT GO???”

Batman: “What do you mean?”

Supes: “I mean it’s just gone! It’s not in his stomach!”

Batman: “How?”

Supes: “I don’t KNOW!”

Marvel: *pinches nose and does the steam ear thing only the steam is now green*

Batman and Supes: *stares*

Marvel: *grabs their shoulders and drags them away from the steam cloud*

Supes: *looking back at the steam cloud* “What was that??”

Marvel: “Highly irradiated Kryptonite steam.”

Supes: “WHAT?”

Marvel: “We might have to evacuate the area.”

Later…

Batman: “Alright so eat this.” *hands him a rock*

Marvel: *eats it*

Batman: “Now stand behind the X-ray machine.”

Marvel: *stands behind it*

Batman: “Wow. It really is gone.” *there’s literally only Billy’s silhouette on the thing*

Wheres the rest of him?

Batman: “Captain, do you have bones?”

Marvel: “I should!”

[box-of-roses]

⇢ ˗ˏˋ Can You Keep a Secret? ࿐ྂ

Characters: Tamaki, Kyoya, Hikaru, Kaoru, Haruhi

Warnings: Anesthetic

A/N: I hope you guys enjoy, Ouran was one of the first Animes I watched so I may be a little dusty on the characters -> The request Anesthesia + The Hosts

Tamaki

When you get out of the doctor’s office and into his car he rolls up the divider window and smiles at you

You two have so much fun rambling nonsense to each other

Thinks it’s adorable when you get excited “finding out” that he’s your boyfriend

“You’re so handsome.” You say leaning against him. He made sure you were still buckled before he wrapped his arms around you.

“Thank you my love, you know you’re pretty cute too.” He finds himself so lucky that you’re his.

“Can you keep a secret?” He nods with a smile and an eyebrow lift wondering what it could be. “I love you.” His face grows red at an almost alarming rate. This was the first time you had told him that you love him.

“I love you too, my love.” His voice is a little wavy but he has a dopey smile on his face. “Why don’t you get some rest.” He plays with your hair until you’re fast asleep in his arms

Kyoya

The divider window is already rolled up before you get into the car

Has ice cream already situated in the car because he knows you’ll want it

Blushes at how touchy you are before getting used to it

“Thank you, you’re really pretty.” He smiles as he sets his notepad down. He hands you your cup of ice cream and the smile on your face grows wider.

“I hope you enjoy, maybe it’ll wear off faster.” He knows it won’t but he enjoyed how quick you dug into the ice cream.

“Isn’t your partner jealous that you’re here with me? Giving me ice cream.” You poor soul. You’re so confused.

“I don’t think they’ll mind.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because you’re my partner, honestly what did they do to you in there.” He shakes his head and presses a kiss to your forehead.

Kaoru

Little sweetheart brought blankets with him incase you were cold.

As for snacks, you have your own compartment in all of the cars that holds snacks, hygiene products, hair ties, breath freshener, etc.

by the time you come back out of the office he’s holding your hand and leading you to the car

Kaoru leads you to the car and helps you get in before buckling you up and closing the door. He does the same for himself on the other side. He pulls out a carefully folded blanket and places it around your shoulders before taking another one and putting it on your laps.

“Do you have a partner?” He’s a little taken aback by the statement before he chuckles.

“Yes I do, why do you ask?”

“Cause I think you’re really nice and handsome and I kinda just wanna kiss you.” You pout a little and go back to eating your snack.

“Can I tell you a secret?” You nod enthusiastically. “You’re my partner, cutie.” Your face grows red as you smile widely.

“I’m so lucky.” It’s his turn to blush now.

I headcanon that Kaoru calls you cutie because of the little oranges and that’s how you two got together. (I may expand on that more later)

Hikaru

Teases you about it literally ALL the time

Had his camera set up before you got into car

Thinks it’s absolutely hilarious that you didn’t know who he was

Helped you stumble your way to the car. Don’t be fooled though he was laughing the whole way. Your poor anesthesia filled brain didn’t know why he was laughing and just thought it was adorable.

When you get into the car the camera is already set up and he knows he’ll look fondly on today even if he still thinks it’s hilarious. “You’re really nice.” You say looking at him like he hung the stars.

“Why thank you, so find anyone attractive in there.”

“Well, can you keep a secret?” Well, that made him a little concerned. Why did you not immediately say no and that you thought he was attractive?

“Yeah, I’ve been known to keep a secret or two.”

“I find you attractive. I really hope you don’t have a partner.” He starts cackling at that.

“Sorry to disappoint but I do have a partner.” He makes out between laughs. “Can you keep a secret?” You frown a little but nod. “You’re my partner. And I think you’re the cutest when you’re not in your right mind.” That makes you smile.

Haruhi

Is definitely one of the nicer ones of the bunch

Ask her dad if she could borrow the car/ pick you guys up. Not a problem though because her dad literally LOVES you

Might like you more than Haruhi so he agreed instantly

Snacks are piled high in the car and Haruhi rolls her eyes at the display. “They don’t need this much.”

“Nonsense! Only the best for Y/N! I will have it no other way!” He says as he finishes putting the last bag in the car. Haruhi sighs and gets into the car. When they pull up to the doctor’s office Haruhi gets out of the car to help you. When you reach the car you’re in awe of Haruhi’s dad.

“You’re Mom’s really pretty!” They both laugh.

“Thank you dear! But I’m Haruhi’s father remember? I got you some snacks dear, Haruhi why don’t you sit in the back with them.”

“I was going to do that anyway.” The moment Haruhi sat down and buckled both of you in you had grabbed her hand. You held both of them up and compared hand sizes. Haruhi wasn’t used to you being this outgoing so she got flustered.

“What are you doing?”

“Comparing hand sizes and hoping you aren’t dating anyone and I can have you all to myself.” You say with a smile. You interlock your fingers and lean closer. “Now tell me, am I too late or am I so lucky that you’ll go on a date with me?”

“I’m already dating you idiot.” Haruhi smiles and kisses your interlocked hands.

“Well, that’s just the best news I’ve heard all day!”

RULES NAVIGATION

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

ooh im glad!!! so, expanding on that then..

how about price with a civvi wife/gf, and when they’re talking over the phone while he’s gone, she’s being kinda cagey and definitely omitting something, but he doesn’t know what. so when he gets back home she tells him she’s pregnant? really just a lot of fluff (and maybe angst? 👀 like about how his job is super dangerous and he might not come home, so he has fears about it?? bc your angst is so good it makes me sob violently /pos)

ive never sent a request before, so if this is too specific or something, feel free to whittle it down or toss it, i don’t wanna bug you lol

have a good day hal, love u!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Our Remains

Pairing: John Price x F!Reader

Synopsis: You disliked hiding things from John. Certainly something as big as this.

Word Count: 4.8k

Warnings: Pregnancy, allusions to breeding kink & unprotected seggsy time, morning sickness, angst, major fluff at the end

A/N: This was an adorable request, Anon!! Thanks so much for sending it in.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

You disliked hiding things from John. It not only felt like a betrayal of his unlimited trust in you but also a slap in the face for what you had built with each other. The both of you were always honest to a fault when it came to your relationship—like how a bird was loyal to the sky. It was an unselfish principle; a promise of pure love and devotion that transcended touch or given gifts.

You told each other things. Everything. Down to how much you had spent on groceries that day just because it was something to talk about and share; something that made you closer to one another even when you were apart. You told the Brit what you planted in the back garden—what shirt you were wearing!

But now you hold the ringing phone in your hand and for the first time in your entire relationship, you consider lying. 

Your eyes bore into the icon of John’s smiling face, head covered by a black beanie and beard tilted up softly. Affectionately, his name on the device had been changed to ‘Grumpy St. Bernard,’ but now the title made your lips go thin instead of the usual giggling reaction. No heat spreads over your cheeks; no excitement.

Just an overwhelming sense of dread.

The week had started just as the last three had. A special form of hell. At nearly six o’clock you would whip back the covers with all the fervor of a terrified rabbit being chased by a hawk; the taste of bile immediately snapping you to attention as the toilet acts as your commanding officer. 

You imagined John would get a chuckle out of that comparison, but when you’re hurling up your guts in nothing more than a pair of your boyfriend’s boxers and a tank top it’s hard to think about all that. The taste of bile was still lickable from your lips as the bathroom tile digs into your knees, ringing phone still in your palm. 

The idea of a pregnancy test slid into your subconscious in the first week of John’s two-month deployment, the tantalizing thought that was like a hook to a fish. You had pulled on the string, of course, and had instantly drowned in air. But you hadn’t taken one until now. Too nervous, perhaps. Hesitant. 

In your other hand, opposite of the buzzing phone, you held three positive pregnancy tests in a shaking grip. Pink and white plastic mock you from the corner of your vision; two double lines. 

John’s icon dims. 

You press the green circle in your panic, mouth opening and closing yet no sounds escaping. Would you tell him now? Later? Was it right to tell him about this now—when he was halfway across the continent? Fear overtakes your heart for no apparent reason. You didn’t want him to act rashly, especially when John could act so stubborn when he wanted to. 

He was always so concerned about you when he was away but you were concerned just the same. That man was the one who was getting shot at constantly, not you.

“Took you a while to answer. Trying to give me the slip, then, Sweetheart?” John’s gravelly voice helped slightly, making your heart still, even if for a short moment. You close your eyes and tilt your head down, lips quivering at the soft chuckle over the line.

God, you loved him so much.

Blue eyes furrowed in confusion at the silence on the line, the chilled Switzerland air sneaking inside John’s compression shirt as he stood on the hotel balcony. The sounds of gentle conversation twitch his ears from inside the room—the voices of the One-Four-One a dull mumble behind the half-closed sliding door. They had been playing cards before the Captain had easily slipped away to check up on you. 

He tried to call as often as he could. 

John’s hips shift, one arm crossed over his chest as the other presses the phone harder to his ear. Lips pull to a frown, beard bristles going with them, before the lines on the Brit’s forehead grow larger.

“...Love?” Naturally, a sliver of concern wedges itself into his ribs but it subsides when your calming voice spreads honey over the call. John’s shoulders fall back down. 

You breathe deeply, hands dropping the tests onto the bathroom counter with a small clack of plastic. 

“John,” forcing away the hitch to your words, you stare at yourself in the mirror, free hand sliding up to lightly rest over your collarbone as a soothing method. Your eyes are so filled with shock that it throws you off. “I…I wasn’t expecting a call so soon.” 

“Hm, been up since 0500.” the man grunts, looking out over the city and seeing the rising sun before asking softly with a deep-set brow. There was something about your tone…lids narrow at nothing. “Did I wake you?” 

“No, no,” You force a chuckle, having to take a deep breath before ripping your sights from your own reflection. The disgust was settling at you trying to avoid this. But if your own brain could barely process this right now, what gave you the right to tell John when he wasn’t here? “I’ve been up for a few hours.”

Licking your lips, you run a hand over your hair, glancing out of the ajar door into the master bedroom, pushing out bland answers for only the fact that you couldn’t think clearly right now.

Jesus, this was actually happening. 

You study the thrown covers from your morning rush to the bathroom, seeing the pictures on the nightstand and feeling the delicate atmosphere that was sparking—electricity between atoms. A silent moment of realization that everything down to the bare bones of your relationship was about to change. Blinking back to the tests, you dwell in the strange fuzz that took residence in the back of your mind. 

“What’s been going on?” Your voice isn’t right. Too tight. Too…nervous. Why were you nervous? “Everyone good?” 

The Brit frowns stiffly, shifting his feet again and sending a look back into the hotel. Hunching forward, John’s large fingers fix the position of the phone as his voice lowers, ignoring your question entirely. He doesn't want to jump to conclusions, but there were pros and cons to his line of work. 

Above all, he knew when something was up with you.

“Are you alright over there, Sweetheart?” Blue eyes rove the street below, “Feelin’ okay? You sound a bit stuffed up.”

Your heart lurches, quickly stuttering through an explanation of, “O-oh, I think I just came down with something.” The irony wasn’t lost on you. “A stomach bug,” you cringe, “I’m sorry, was it that obvious?”

The laugh that exits is less convincing than you thought it would be, but it does the trick. John sighs in relief, chuckling as he shakes his head.

“No need to apologize, Love…anything bad, then? I can bring some meds from Base when I’m back if you need me to.” He was still concerned for you, but knowing that you’d never lied or withheld the truth from him before there was really no reason to believe that anything else was going on. John trusted you to the end of the earth. 

The Captain rubbed at the back of his neck, cracking his spine as he bent back. It was still early and waking up on a hotel bed without you beside him was torture. John longed for home. Longed for you.

Back at the house, your face scrunches together. 

Bad? You wonder, saying absentmindedly that some medication would be lovely. Was this…bad? 

John had always wanted to have a kid—or, at least, he’d told you as much when he was above you, filling you to the brim and then doing it again a second and third time. Thighs quivering and eyes fighting to stay open through layered bliss as sharp pants rung in your ears. 

“Gonna get you pregnant…watch you swell up…c’mon sweet thing, you can handle another one, can’t you? Need to watch it take.” 

…But was that a true feeling or just a kink? You blank and realize you’d never asked him. More than that, though, was this what you wanted? 

“When do you think you’ll be home, John?” You speak softly, palm flattening over your stomach as you exit the bathroom and sit on the end of the bed, gut swirling but not in a nauseous sort of way. “I…I really miss you, y’know? It would all be better if you were home.”

The brunette blinks softly, lids peeling back in shock for a moment before a thin thread of guilt worms its way into him. 

“Kate said two months, Love,” John speaks slowly, the grumble in his voice trying to convey his unease at your strange behavior, “You know that.”

He’d explained his job when you both had gotten serious, how he would be gone for long periods of time, and the somewhat uncomfortable situations you’d be put in because of it. You’d agreed and never brought it up when John would have to leave in the small hours of the morning and disappear for months on end. It shocked him, really, with how well you adjusted but that was just how you were. One of a kind. 

There was no one else with whom John could see himself building a life—being buried beside in some nice meadow grave plot and turning to dust together. Growing a family with. 

John cleared his throat, tilting his head down slightly before pulling himself back to the present. 

“It’s bothering you that much, eh?” His brows furrow, “Are you sure you’re alright? I can call hospital and—”

“No!” You slap a hand to your mouth, halting your outburst as blue eyes go somewhat wide, jaw slackening. Taking a breath over the shocked silence over the line, you dig your fingers into your cheek before letting your limb drop. “No, John…I-I’m sorry I just…” 

Your voice quivers.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry…

Eyes burning and nose twitching, you breathe heavily, mouth closing shut because you knew that if you say another word you’ll explode. You were shivering with cold sweat, scared and confused, and wanting John to hold you in his arms; whispering that it would all be okay into the shell of your ear. 

You force through a sob, “I’m just really scared.”

John tenses, one hand going to grasp the balcony with white knuckles. His mind goes into overdrive. “Scared?” the Brit prods, muscles going stiff and mind running, “What in the hell is going on?” 

Authority leaks into his tone, serious and deep. It made him nervous that he couldn’t see you right now—couldn’t stop the sounds coming from your mouth. Why were you crying? Has something horrible happened to you? Were you in trouble but were unable to tell him? John runs over your conversation again, every word and sound, as his heart races. He was wound up like a spring. 

From behind him, the conversation in the hotel room halts. 

You force your eyes closed, now up on your feet and pacing. Tears lightly patter to the floor. 

“John, I can’t tell you over the phone,” you admit, shaking, “that wouldn’t be…wouldn’t be fair to you.” Swiping at your eyes, you spread the salty liquid away from your lashes, sniffling; praying that he would understand. “But I really need you home as soon as you’re able. I don’t want to break up what's going on over there, it’s just really important. I don’t think I can wait two months by myself. You know I would never ask this if I didn’t need to.”

John’s jaw clenches, legs unable to stay still as your anxiety leaks to him. He’s nodding before he realizes you can’t see him, taking a deep breath to fill his lungs. 

“...I’ll see what I can do, then.” The brunette runs his hand over his beard pulling at the strands aggressively. What was so crucial that you can’t tell him over the phone? It was a secure line, John always made sure it was; yet, at the same time, that fact didn’t matter at all. If you needed him home so fervently—then he was coming home. That was that. “How long can you wait for me, Love?” He spares a glance inside. “There are a few loose ends that need to be taken care of here. Might complicate things.” 

You blink around the bedroom, hand wrapped around your middle and trying to run soothing circles into your skin. 

“I…I don’t…” John’s face softens, closing his eyes.

“Breathe, Sweetheart,” he whispers, “I’m comin’ home to you. We’ll get whatever this is sorted, yeah? I need you to be brave for me until then.”

Listening, you let the words calm you down, sniffling one last time like a kid who had fallen off the monkey bars before you let out a chuckle. John instantly follows his own advice when that sound wafts over the line. His shoulders fall back once more, silent sigh exiting.

“You said that exact same thing to me when I ended up burning that loaf of bread I was making—two years ago, was it? ‘Breathe, Sweetheart.’” Blue glimmers with love, cheeky tone growing. 

“Hm, nearly set the kitchen on fire, didn’t you? So much smoke I swore someone had set off a charge in the oven.” John doesn’t push you to answer him, though he’s more questions than anything else at this point. You’d said you would tell him when he’s home and he believes you. “Please, Love, at least promise me you didn’t burn the bloody house down, yeah?” 

A laugh strikes his chest, and he’s chuckling slowly in retaliation. 

“I promise, John.”

“Good.” You’re smiling for the first in what seems like ages, tears drying as the flood down your chin stops. You lick away the water stuck in the corner of your mouth when John grunts lowly, “I’ll tell the boys and inform Laswell. But I can’t say it’ll be less than two weeks.”

Nodding to yourself, you say, quietly, “Okay.” Your eyes fall to the framed picture on the nightstand—the image of John and you smiling brightly on your third anniversary. You’d gone hiking, both sweaty and dirt marks on your cheeks, but happy…always happy. Your veins pump blood faster. “I love you, John.” 

The final comment is tender; the words are more silk and soft furs than vibrating vocal cords. 

He blinks away the blush that lights his pale cheeks. John huffs, an infectious smile flickering over his face as his chest wells with affection. Acting like a bird preening itself, he smirks and says, “Well, you’re lucky then…I love you too, Sweetheart.” An exhalation echoes over the call as his tone drops, “Keep safe for me, eh? I’ll call to update tomorrow.” 

“I’ll be waiting.” 

When the phone is set down on the bed, tossed down carefully, you try to think over this situation more rationally. You wouldn’t say you were against this—building a family with John. In fact, if not him, then you don’t believe it would be anyone else. 

The Brit was the only man for you. You both knew the risks of having unprotected sex and in reality, you think neither one of you cared about the consequences. 

Nodding to yourself, you wonder how to explain this to him when he comes home as you get to fixing the sheets, one hand always drifting back to your stomach with a growing appreciation.

—

John jogged to his car in the underground parking garage, unlocking it with his fob as his bags are slung over his shoulders. He wastes no time chucking his belongings into the back seat, swiftly sliding into the driver's seat and slamming the door shut as the engine starts. His dog tags bounce on his chest, but he’s half convinced they move from the rate that his heart is going alone.

All through traffic his fingers are tapping against the wheel, grunting stiffly at red lights and shifting his hips. 

It had been three and a half weeks of fixing loose ends. 

“Fuckin’ hell, c’mon,” John huffs, one elbow on the car frame as his hand flattens over his lower jaw. The light slowly snaps back to green after a long minute. 

Pressing on the gas, the vehicle moves forward and continues until the familiar home comes into view on that quiet street nearly twenty minutes later. 

John barely parks the car before he hops out, leaving his bags in the back, and rushes to the door. Taking the key from under the doormat, his mind is focused on only you. He had been unable to stop his worry about you and your unnamed fear, watching the phone with every free instance he could. It had only grown as the days got longer, and no matter how much you assured him that you would be okay until he got back, deep-seated apprehension grew. He didn’t like living under a shroud, especially when it came to your health.

The key in his hand was inserted with a firm wrist and twisted, shoving open the door with a heavy shoulder like there was a cloud over his head.

“Love?!” He calls, not bothering to shuck off his boots before looking around the visible living room and foyer. “Where are you?” 

Long legs move swiftly as an utterance calls from the kitchen, barely taking the time to close the door behind him in his anxiety, “John?” 

The Brit immediately backtracks, skidding to a stop and turning with blinking eyes. His ears twitch at the sounds of dishes being dropped back into water, as his heart steadily slows at the sound of your beautiful voice calling his name. 

He rushes around the doorframe, feet stomping and hand catching the wall as you come into view, staring wide-eyed. 

Your digits are around the fabric of a dish towel, fingers dripping as John finally presents himself to you. You hadn’t heard him until he had called out, too preoccupied with your own thoughts to hear the lock click. 

But now it was like every worry you had was wiped clean at the sight of that gruff face; the hitch in his large chest. A smile slashes your lips after a moment of shocked silence.

“John!” You laugh, rushing forward, and the man lets his face soften—bringing you close to him as you draw near and trapping you in his arms. 

His breath spread out over the top of your head in a great sigh, grumbled chuckles accented by the way John’s great hands wrap around your shoulders. Fingers press you into a solid chest, digging through hair to let your ear twitch at the sound of his heartbeat. 

John doesn't speak until he has held you in his arms for at least three minutes, just pressing his face into your scalp and feeling your warmth against him. You don’t pull away either, breathing in his musk as it instinctually leads to your muscles loosening. 

Minutes later, the Brit pulls back slowly, gripping you by the shoulders and looking down into your eyes. His gaze filters over yours, taking you in before his lips meet yours in a brief yet deep kiss. You melt into it, hands going to grip his cheeks and spread throughout his beard hair, soft strands leaving you shivering when John’s thumbs rub circles into your flesh. 

He pulls back and you fight the tears in your eyes as he connects his forehead with yours. His optics shine with love, bleeding out like trapped stars; silver flecks of devotion and a blue the color of sea storms.

“What’s going on, Love?” John whispers, concern alight and raving as his grip goes to your waist, squeezing comfortingly. “I’m here. Tell me.” 

You blink slowly, lips going thin with tight brows. Swallowing through a tight throat, you nod. 

“Can you go sit in the living room, please?” Speaking carefully, you tilt your head and watch John get confused—his nose scrunching and moving his lips together. You run your thumbs over his cheeks and smile slightly, obviously nervous again. “Trust me.”

Though it wasn’t a question, John replies under his breath, “Always.” 

But still, he holds you, studying your expression and the whites of your eyes with stiff lungs. You were making him fear that something horrible was coming—something he couldn’t control. His heart begins to hurt, but he backs away from you, brows tight as he exits the kitchen and disappears into the living room. 

Taking down a swift breath when he’s out of sight, you fiddle with your fingers above your abdomen, looking down at your still-flat stomach. You knew it was stupid to worry, but how could you not? It wasn’t every day you just told your Lover you were pregnant with his child…

“John loves me,” you mutter to yourself, nodding and getting ready to go through with the plan you’d formed over the three weeks you’d been alone. “And he’ll love the both of us. I know he will.” 

Hand flattening over your stomach, you open a drawer with the other, pulling out a small cardboard box no bigger than a book. Fingers shaking, you lick your lips and feel the slight pull of a nervous, yet giddy, smile. Turning, you exit the kitchen and see John sitting with his nose resting above the clench of his fists, foot tapping. His head immediately snaps over when you come into view, hands falling to hang off his legs as the couch under him dips from his weight. 

You steel yourself and raise the box. 

“Here.” Placing it on the coffee table, you sit across from John in an armchair. 

He blinks slowly, eyes going small with curiosity. The man sends you glances through his lashes as he stares down at the object but he says nothing. Rubbing his beard with one hand, he reaches and grabs it carefully. 

Testing the weight, John is genuinely confused, clenching his jaw and feeling the material in his palm. 

“...What’s this, then?” He asks lowly, glancing at you with a raised brow and lines on his forehead. 

You put your intertwined hands in your lap, prompting with a tilt of your shoulders. 

“Open it.” Off put by your cryptic answers, John nods firmly, grasping the top of the box and pulling lightly, careful not to disturb the contents. It was strange to think, but he was honestly quite perturbed. 

What exactly was inside this box, and why had he been called home for it? He loved being here, no doubt, but the circumstances….

Blue eyes glimmer. You didn’t look overly afraid as you shifted in your seat, just plain timid—like the inside object would change something fundamental about his and yours relationship. 

John pops the top off and looks as you start talking before your throat threatens to shut you up. “I…I know it’s not a life-threatening thing to call you home for,” the man stills as if he was made of stone; a statue as non-breathing and pulse-less as anything, “But I didn’t want to tell you over the phone because that seemed so—!” 

Your voice is drowned out as John’s shaking fingers delve into the box, ears ringing. His fingers flinch off of three positive pregnancy tests and the soft fabric of the plain army green baby onesie that surrounds them; skimming slowly. 

“I found out the day you called and I said I had come down with something.” Your laugh is strained when it exits you, and you stare at the Brit hard, seeing his features utterly halt all expression. Thumbs digging into your skin, your tone drops, speaking slowly, “...John? A-are you okay? Say something to me, Love.” 

It’s only in that long minute of nothingness that you really start to get an all-consuming tenseness to your bones like a rabbit. 

Why isn’t he saying anything? 

John clears his stiff throat, blinking rapidly as he brings out one of the tests, dropping the box lightly to the coffee table with a dull thump. The twin red lines are ingrained into the softness of his retinas as the sun would be if you were to stare directly at it. 

Pregnant. 

His heart swells to an almost painful degree, blue eyes moving to look at you across the table and then dipping to your stomach. The Brit stands up slowly. 

Your lungs are tight, lids moving quickly with wetness growing in your tear ducts. 

“Please, John, what are you thinking—?” Large hands capture your arms, bringing you up as lips meet yours in a passionate and heart-stopping kiss. 

John’s limbs wrap around your hips, bringing you up into the air as gently as a bird, face parting from yours with a series of loud and genuine laughs. You snap your arms around his neck, shocked but not at all complaining as he holds you up with ease, twirling you around in a firm but ever-gentle hold. 

“You’re pregnant?” His whispers meet you, airy and deep with awe. It was like he was in his teens again, running around Herefordshire with his mates—his eyes shone with happiness; pure unabashed love. “Oh, truly, Sweetheart?”

Tears dribble down your cheeks at the sight of him glowing, beard peeled back in a large smile with wet eyes. Hiccuped giggles leave your lips as you nuzzle your face into his neck, the sight of him like this overwhelming. All stress leaves you in a millisecond when your feet hit the ground again. 

“Yes, John,” you sob, overjoyed, pulling back so you both can stare into each other's teary eyes as the Brits’ fingers go to shakily wipe the waterworks from your under eyes. His orbs flicker quickly, looking you over in an entirely different light. “You’re going to be a father.” 

He fights through a scratchy voice, “Me?” The tone is amused, but he can’t articulate how exalted he feels to hear that. A father…him? It was more than he could have ever asked for, and, even better—John whispers out, “You’re going to be a mum.” 

You kiss him, multiple quick pecks that he returns through shared joyous chuckles.

“I didn’t want to tell you over the phone,” the confession meets the air as one of John’s hands travels to cup your flat abdomen, fingers flinching over the fabric of your shirt to sneak under. You laugh and shiver at his calluses, as his blue eyes are so soft they could be compared to butter. “And I couldn’t wait two months.”

“Christ, Love,” John lays a kiss on your forehead, needing to be as close to you as possible. You can feel his heart through his chest, and you know yours isn’t any better. This was far more than you could have hoped for. He mutters against your skin, “I’m so glad you didn’t. This is bloody amazing news—I want to be here for all of it.” 

Sea storms lock onto your face with a grunt, “You’re so lovely. Perfect, yeah?”

His warm hand still rests under your shirt, and you doubt it’s going to leave anytime soon.

You feel your cheeks heat and you smile bashfully, heart about to explode.

“You are.” John reiterates. “You’re so fuckin’ perfect, Sweetheart. I’m so happy.” 

The air is ripe with tenderness, a soft state of being that just keeps getting better. John had silent tears dripping down his face, blinking to clear them and not letting you leave his hold for a second. 

“Oh, John,” you whisper, digging your fingers into the back of his shirt, looking up. “Me too, Love.” 

While the glee is nearly physical enough to grab, there is a moment of hesitancy in the Brit. He was gone more times than not for work; put into situations that could leave him going through bodily harm. You didn’t deserve that stress—didn’t deserve to sit at home with a swelling stomach just watching the door and wondering if you’d have to become a single mother. You had a child in your womb. His child. Both of yours’ child. 

A family that you both had made.

John swallows and says to you seriously, without an ounce of hesitation in his blood, “I’m telling Laswell to pull me out,” you blink up and listen, letting him continue as his press on your flesh gets even more prominent, nodding to you, “I’m not missing this—not putting you through that worry. Two years, then I’ll head back in. We have enough saved, I give you my word you’ll want for nothing.” 

Blue eyes flicker down, and a small mumble so tiny it nearly disappears hits your ears. You almost start sobbing again. “This is more important. You both are more important.” 

There were few moments in your life that you think you’ll remember when you are old, weathered and wrinkled, but this you tell yourself is one that you will carry to your grave. John and yours’ grave. 

What remains behind, you ask? Simple.

White bones entangled with an eternity of deathless worship, and the generations that will come to lay flowers on the headstone.

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[the-moon-files]

Not sure if anyone has asked this before I think it’d be funny for the Links to get flustered if reader asked them to touch their ears (out of curiosity) (I’m totally not curious myself)

Like are they sensitive? Just some thoughts to ponder...

Again, just going thru old asks, so if i don't apologize in the ask, I promise its a given 😭

Moon: presumed male reader, but no he/him, only "you" used, so gender neutral really ig ("you")

Orbit: SFW, Headcanons-ish, SHORT

Stars: vaguely the classic chain of links

Comets & Meteors: CWs: mildly suggestive, mild discussion about ear piercings/cartilage mention, & TWs: ear piercing disussion (vague, no talk of needles).

Please comment if I missed any. /gen

☆

I actually sorta touched on this in an old ask, I’ll leave the link here in case u wanna see it, (when i find it…)

so ig I’ll expand on some short headcanons here!

so i mentioned last time i talked abt this being like a cultural hylian thing to only touch the ears of someone you love dearly, so like obviously parent/child, maybe older/younger siblings, etc. but i like to think generally,

esp as hylians grow up and become adults, their ears are like a thing only lovers/spouses touch/take care of

including piercings a lot of the time, so like a parent or sibling or lover will learn to properly pierce ears (tho i imagine they only really pierce non-cartilage piercings commonly)

so on the subject of piercings, i definitely think they see any multiple piercings/cartilage piercings on your ears as badass/def a show of good pain tolerance regardless of what you acc can withstand lol

(bro and if you have non-ear piercings?? Wind/Wild is Fascinated, and Leg/Hyrule/Sky/Wars jaws def dropped, even Time’s eye widened)

ok switching lanes back to the intimacy aspect

ok so we’re continuing off that situation in teh last post where you touch Four’s ears and are told what that means, and then half jokingly respond that they are very dear to your heart

(but obv if they’re uncomfortable you’ll def not do it)

bro the effect this has on them is actually irreversible lol

Wind was def the first to outright ask you to like check his ears after swimming or if they get nicked or even to ask you to pierce them once!

(if ur squeamish u said “no Wind, ask ur grandma” lol - but if ur not, like me when i was drunk once, u go for it after making super sure they’re symmetrical and sterile and whatnot, theyre just his firsts, as in the earlobe basic, and lend him a pair of your own earrings to keep in the meantime until healed, which is faster than humans. he is so happy he looks more like a pirate lol)

and the others def followed suit after Wind gave them the courage ironically (both being the youngest and also they literally all fought evil lol)

Wild politely asked if you could make him/help make him some earmuffs, Hyrule shyly asked if you would change his earrings, Four nearly went as red a tomato giving you a pair of earrings before suddenly but slowly all of them (except Wind?) gave you earrings some way or another (made or bought)

When one of the waitresses at an inn you guys stayed at giggled at seeing Sky give you a pair of carved pretty wooden feather earrings, before quickly running off, then congratulated you,

u asked what for, only to have her giddly explain it was a courting gift of course!!

…

nahhhh, all the Links gave you a pair of earrings, they were just being sweet and welcoming you into their culture probably!

or showing that you were dear to them to, since it was an “ear culture” thing!!

…you see the waitress sigh pitifully at the blonde men at your table later that night.

☆

thanks for the ask!!

peace out,

🌙📁

[ablobwhowrites]

I wanna see some of the ex villain y/n au like it’s seriously seems so interesting and it could be good fuel for an amazing fanfic or something. Though I kinda wanna ask you to expand on that idea a bit more and what y/ns age would be is he more around Bruce’s age or dicks or Jason’s or Tim’s or Damian’s? I read a lot of Batman fanfics so. anyway enjoy your day/night

(Major heads up cause this is just me yapping)

Ex villain y/n is about the same age as Dick Grayson and basically lives with the batfamily at the manor and basically is traumatized to hell and back from their villain life and still now from having to deal with healing now. (They need years of therapy and lots of hugs and some hot cocoa and a blanket)

Because of a bad deck they where given had them spiral down because similar to jinx, they basically have two of themselves, one their villain persona they developed with the real them buried deep down but in a constant spiral down from their real self. Also taking inspiration to the jack stauber song ‘we see you, opal’ with them seeing what they have become after years of being taken in by slade as he lead them into becoming a killing machine and to let go of their last string of their sanity but after being freed from slades grasp by batman was taken in and helped by Batman.

Then it’s only the battle with themselves now. And even the villains are like ‘holy shit this kid is fucked up’ and do sometimes are able to take y/n under their wing to embrace revenge on people who wronged y/n. This also goes with the hero’s but more of trying to help them go back to normal or in a way without having revenge and just to try and fix themselves from being a villain maybe. (When they find out the shit slade did. Bro is going to die cause like bro made y/n a killing machine and basically kinda like that psychological stuff that happened with robin in the original teen titans show.) but over all when y/n is healing they show their interest with inventing and make small stuff like making little windup animals or drawing random things on papers or if their lucky going to go spray paint place when Jason, Tim or Dick are able to sneak them on patrol and Alfred keeps that a secret as he does sometimes have a sit down with y/n and let y/n talk and he listens or he talks and y/n listens. But sometimes they do snap at people sometimes and do get scared because of what they see themselves as, feeling like they are just a trapped in a jail of their own making and jinxing themselves on ever getting better than what slade made them. Maybe one day they will be free from their cage as door was never locked and it’s only y/n to take the step forward to open it.

(anyways, hope y'all like it plus if you like it, you guys can request more if you'd like. Might change their lore later but over all that's some of it. Hope y'all like it, drink water and stay healthy guys)