#i was trying to point out so many details to my parents and i think i overwhelmed them tbh lol

[hoothootmotherf-ckers]

can people please stop filming the entire fucking world around them for public consumption? and especially random fucking strangers who you did not ask???

I work at a park and man the front desk. and I'm photographed and filmed a lot. I'm talking easily 20+ times per day. most of the times, it's parents filming me swearing in their kids as junior rangers. which. they're intending to film their kids. what they get is me and the back of their kids' heads.

there's this recurring problem that like. people forget we're real people? like yeah you're filming your kid, but you're filming me interacting with your kid. I could count the amount of times someone has asked me permission to do this in the past year on one hand. and sometimes that's after they already start filming.

Like, I'm not an actor. I did not agree to this. You could be a dick and make the argument that I'm a public figure, but I'm not. This is not a persona and my uniform is not a costume. I'm a person trying to do my job and help people and teach them about science and history. And you know what makes it harder to do that? The knowledge that anything I say or do could end up shared with thousands of people. The fact that if I fuck up the wording of this kid's junior ranger pledge, or I sneeze, or make some basic mistake, it's not just a funny or embarrassing moment for me and this one family. It could end up on tiktok.

And okay, those are the people intending to film their own kids and not thinking or caring about the collateral. What's worse is the people who film everything. A few times a week some guy walks into the visitor center, phone already horizontal in front of their face, narrating what they're doing and seeing. They come up to the desk and ask me questions, phone in my face. They take wide establishing shots of the visitor center and every visitor in it. None of us agreed to this! None of these people consented to be in your youtube video! We are not the fucking set dressing of whatever travel instagram story you're making!

I don't know where I'm going with this. This is really only the tip of the iceberg. Sometimes people ask us to repeat what we just did - swear in their kid, or explain a detail, or hand them a fucking map - so they can get a second take, and they're already filming so if we say no we look like the asshole. Sometimes we're asked innocuous things like to point out a landmark, and next week there's a photo of us in the 15,000 member Rangers Pointing at Things facebook group (yep, real thing). One time my entire 45 minute evening program was filmed without my permission and I was informed after the fact. This happens all the time, and I'm giving park ranger examples, but this happens to so many people in service work or public positions every single fucking day.

I guess just, next time you go to film in a public space, take a second. Think about who you're about to film, if they agreed to that, what might happen if a video of them went viral. there's a reason I'm not out as trans at work. And then, maybe. don't. or at least fucking ask.

[pygmi-cygni]

writing tip - research

research is one of the pillars of writing. a poorly researched fic, essay, short story, novel, etc is immediately apparent because of several things:

lack of depth

stagnant plot or development

confusing or inconsistent setting

it doesn't matter what genre you write, if it's original or fiction, whatever. you need to research. depending on the relevance of your writing, the depth of research may vary, but it needs to happen. you do not know everything.

Fantasy

I see a lot of writers and authors use fantasy as an excuse to avoid research. Shut the fuck up. Every good fantasy is based on a real ocurrence or social dilemma. That's why we like it so much.

'but pygmi, fantasy is made up! it isn't real!'

SHUT UP. Even if you don't realize it, your story will have elements that readers are intimately familiar with. If you flub something, it will be noticed.

Besides, just because you make stuff up doesn't mean you can be inconsistent. You'll just have to fill in the cracks with made up stuff, which will even out to being about the same amount of effort. Pick your poison, either way you're gonna feel it.

Research is not everybody's favorite. I like it, personally, I think it's like going on little side quests for knowledge. But I understand if you wanna skip all the business and get to writing your baby. No shame.

Let me give you some pointers to make sure the time you spend researching is relevant and well spend.

Lists! God I love lists. after you have outlined your story and your characters and everything, make a list of all the things you need to have a deeper understanding of. This means determining priorities. - How important is The Thing? Will it majorly affect plot or character development? Is it a focal point of the setting? If the answer is yes to any of those questions, it's important. research.

Big picture, little picture. How important is The Thing (again)?. How much detail do you need to know? Especially when it comes to royalty or a hierarchal system, I see research being misguided. There are so many nuances to royal interactions that I could give a rat's ass. Big picture, general outline. I don't need to know everything, just basic courtesy, terms of address, appropriate convo. done. but if your MC is a coroner? might wanna put more detail into that; you'll be talking about the job a lot. determine how much the element will affect your story and go from there.

Don't fudge it for the plot. You'll have a preconceived notion of a certain job description, and then research it and think 'oh that's actually boring.' Don't muddle up the rules just to fit the aesthetic. It's sloppy, and your readers will notice.

To practice researching, pick your topic and after learning a bit about it, try teaching a powerpoint to your parents or friends. if you feel comfortable enough with that knowledge to do it successfully, I'd say you have a good enough understanding.

Setting

researching location is a big one that often gets overlooked. You don't always need to memorize maps, but get a general idea of the city/country layout so when you say "they drove 20 minutes from A to B" it makes sense, rather than having a reader think "Uh, A to B is closer to four hours, wtf?"

if you are making up your city, make a list of important streets and locations in relation to each other. This will help you keep it straight and organized in your head.

Get a feel for flora and fauna. Palm trees don't grow in Alaska. Don't write an Alaskan city with palm trees.

Weather? what's it like? Let me tell you, Portland doesn't get higher than 102F. rainy, cloudy, all that stuff.

Atmospheric details really add a lot, especially if your audience is from that location. It adds another layer of relatability. Also, use weather/plants/animals to your advantage! symbolism, possible curse, all that stuff.

Eras

Oh my god stop fucking this up. Baroque, Elizabethan, Edwardian, Middle Ages ARE DIFFERENT FROM EACH OTHER. STOP SLAPPING FANCY CLOTHES ON PEOPLE AND CALLING IT THE OLDEN DAYS.

get an idea of when electricity was widespread in homes. when was the refrigerator invented? did they use the word 'hella' in 1950? this kinda stuff is important for not breaking the illusion of a time difference. If you are writing a period piece and someone is chatting with a neighbor like it's 2015, we'll have some questions.

Unless it's doctor who. you guys can do literally whatever.

Plot and Character Development

If plot and characters are poorly researched, you are limiting the opportunities for growth. In researching your MC's occupation, you may discover a cool side effect that connects to a plot device. Stagnant, stale characters can be spruced up with a more developed backstory.

All in all, research is really important for your story. regardless of how professional it is, tumblr or the new york times. Do your research. As a writer, you are representing the community in your own way. Do us proud.

xox love you

[reiderwriter]

Hello there baby, are your parents bakers? Cause you're a cutie pie lol sorry couldn't resist the urge to flirt with my favorite writer💕How have you been? How was your day? I wish you a wonderful day and a lovely night💕

It's my first time here sending an ask but lately I've been thinking about shy!Spencer x flirty!reader, I just think is such a cute couple.

So if you're taking requests, I was thinking about early seasons Spencer completely falling for the reader and the way she's so flirty but sweet and kind, the way he'd be blushing hard at anything she says and how he'd like the way she's always touching him cause he felt cherised and desired.

It could be fluff or smut or both cause I can picture them going slow with the relationship but Spencer being eager to please her and show how much he loves everything about her.

You said about choosing a emoji, so can I be the 🐇anon?

A/N: Thanks for the request! Shy Spencer is the best because he's so dumb and silly and doesn't realize when people are attracted to him. I've said it before, but he's basically every nerdy main character in 00s romcoms that are "unattractive" because they wear glasses. I hope you enjoy the fic~♡

Warnings: mentions of case details, slight spoilers for upto s5

With a degree in law and a deep-rooted hatred of businessmen, you'd certainly found your calling in one of the FBI White Collar divisions. Putting away the sleazy bastards was easily one of the biggest perks of the job, but every coin had a second side, and yours was you actually had to interact with the cretins before you could take them down. 

You'd dealt with bribes, dinner invites, and sexual propositions more than a time or two, and had to remind yourself that kicking anyone of them clean in the balls was most likely a firing offense, if not legally off the table. 

The man in the case you were currently working - possibly Bill Hodges, possibly Daniel Brady, possibly so many more men - had been a typical white collar freak until he'd moved on to murder. And when you'd been so close to nailing his ass for fraud, too. 

You'd had no choice but to call in whatever unit it was that actually got to put bullets in the bastards, sure that you were going to be strong-armed out of months of work for the glory of taking down a spree killer. 

Instead, you got Spencer Reid, delivered freshly to your desk like a lamb to slaughter. 

“Sorry, you're the agent from the BAU?” You asked, raking your eyes across his body, smiling at his obvious discomfort with the attention. 

“Yes, Doctor Reid. I'm here for more information on the Hodges files.” 

You dusted your skirt off as you stood, moving around the desk to grab the file. You held it out to him but pulled it back when he reached for it.

“I'm sorry, you're really in the BAU?” An embarrassed look fell across his face, and you instantly felt shitty. 

“Do you want to see my credentials?” 

“No, I'm sorry, it's just - I wasn't expecting someone so…pretty?” 

The embarrassed look deepened to a flush, and you brightened at the sight. You weren't lying. He really was pretty, and you hoped your comment hadn't come off as patronizing. 

“You're adorable. Here's the file, I’ll be at your team briefing in half an hour. Spencer, right?” 

He nodded, finally waking up and taking the files as you pushed it against his chest, using the movement to step slightly closer. 

“I'll see you later then,” you trailed your look down, getting a good look at all of him before meeting his eyes again. “Save me a seat?” 

“I should… I'll, uh, go now. Thanks for the-” he stammered, pointing to the file, backing out of your space slowly, like an animal trying not to show its back to a predator. 

Unlike the long line of scumbags filling the halls and case files of your floor, Spencer was without bravado or ego. His lack of both meant that you were interested. You were very interested. 

Half an hour later, you practically sprinted to the 6th floor, bouncing up the stairs to the office where you'd take your meeting like a giddy school girl. 

“Hello, sorry, I'm not late, am I?” You asked, quietly opening the door and letting yourself in. 

“Agent Y/N, no, perfect timing, Penelope was just about to brief us on your case,” Hotch said, rising and giving your hand a firm shake. He looked around to find a seat to usher you into, but you quickly dropped yourself into the seat right beside Spencer Reid, grin deepening as he flushed and offered you an awkward yet endearing smile. 

Unconsciously, you shifted closer, shooting him your own smile before the meeting officially began, and you were forced to keep a straight, serious face. 

The entire case progressed in much the same way, with you doing everything you could to fluster Spencer Reid and him doing everything in his power to convince himself you were being friendly. 

“Spencer, do you have a phone number?” You asked after slipping out of the meeting, trailing him back to his desk. 

“Yeah, we have to keep connected for cases, so I have a phone.” 

“Great. Your number - what is it?” 

He rattled off the digital as you scribbled them down on a notepad. 

“And Hotch's number is-” 

“Oh, I won't need that. Thanks, Spencer.” You said waving as you left to slink back to your desk. You could hear him calling out behind you, confused. 

“Y/N… Y/N, we split up on cases often, if there's an incident and you need to contact us it's better to have all of the team members numbers,” he panted, jogging to catch up with your focused pace. 

“If I need to contact you, I'll take myself to Agent Garcia’s office and use her direct line,” you said, finally stopping yourself at the elevator and pressing the button. 

He caught up, and stopped abruptly next to you. 

“Oh… oh, yeah that's… that's efficient.” 

You stepped onto the elevator when it arrived, leaving Spencer hesitating whether or not to climb in himself, desperately wondering why you'd ask for his number then. 

“Goodbye, Doctor Reid,” you said, pressing the door close button and blowing him a kiss just before the doors blocked you from sight. 

To tell the truth, you'd had a lot of fun flirting with Spencer on the phone from Penelope’s office during the case. The woman was an inspiration, even if her flirting had a completely different purpose and meaning than your own. Her friendship with Derek Morgan was admirable, but you didn't want to be friends with Spencer Reid. 

“Hello, handsome, what can I do for you today?” You asked, picking up the phone and basking in the stammers that answered you down the line. 

“D-Do you need me to get Morgan for you?” He said, his voice treading lightly. 

“Unless Derek Morgan has, overnight, managed to turn into a 6’1 Doctor with a penchant for cardigans and leather satchels and an IQ of 187, then I am absolutely not looking for him. I have case details.” 

He brushed past your comment, but he kept the slight stammer through the conversation, right until you signed off. 

“Until next time, sexy.”

“Um, yeah… thanks…beautiful?” he signed off, and you guffawed in laughter even as Penelope stared wide-eyed in your direction, not believing her ears. 

“Please forgive our little test tube genius. We forgot to add flirting skills to his childhood curriculum, and now, alas, the poor thing doesn't know a damn thing.” 

He'd called back a few hours later, and you'd purred more compliments down the line, but this time with the team surrounding him as they closed in on your unsub. 

“Hello, this is beautiful speaking. How may I help you?” You giggled down the line, picking up the call after only a single ring. 

“Y/N,” he breathed, catching his breath awkwardly as he struggled to remember why it was you were needed. 

“So… um, like… Hotch has a question about the files you sent earlier. He needs Penelope to… do something as well.” 

You could almost see the awkward nod through the phone. 

“Great. Pass me over to Hotch, then, hot stuff.” 

You heard the tell-tale sound of Derek Morgan’s cackle in the background, and you couldn't help but let another giggle slip out. You were a gonner, and, hopefully, so was he. 

The case wrapped quickly after that, spree killing being a quick game of cat and mouse out of necessity. You weren't happy with three bodies, but it sure as hell was preferable to more. 

You greeted the BAU team at the jet hanger as they returned, reclaiming your fraud files for paperwork and using that simple chore as a reason to get close to Spencer again. 

“Good work out there, Doctor Reid.” 

“What, he's not hot stuff anymore now he's in front of you?” Emily Prentiss laughed, throwing her go bag onto her shoulder and trailing behind where you'd started strolling alongside Spencer. 

“Oh, he's still hot stuff. He's just hot stuff with three PhDs that just stopped a spree killer,” you said, sighing dreamily. “How do you do it?” 

“We were all there too, you know,” the other woman chuckled as you made it inside the building and to the elevator. 

“Yeah, well,” you said, taking a second to reach out and straighten out Spencer's skewed tie, smoothing his jacket and generally just touching him in whatever way you could, respectfully. 

You didn't even bother to finish your sentence, just leaning closer to his ears and whispering directly into them. 

“You're very cute when you're flustered, Doctor Reid.” 

You stepped away for a second while the rest of his team teased him, stepping to the back of the elevator to ascend to your floor while the others departed on theirs. 

They filed out one by one and you sent them off with a smile and a wave, signing in defeat as you realized there was no longer a reason for you to interact with the good doctor ever again. 

If you weren't so stupidly aware of him, you'd almost have missed the fact that Spencer didn't leave the elevator when his teammates did. He instead turned to you and, with the brightest red you'd seen on his face to date, stammered out half a sentence. 

“I.. Y/N, I was just… curious, if you, by any chance…” 

Your eyes widened in joy as you anticipated his question, silently begging him just to spit it out. 

“I was wondering, i-if you had… a boyfriend?” By the end of his sentence, even he seemed unsure of whether that was a question he should really be asking. 

You'd been throwing heart eyes at him for says, and he was asking if you were in a committed relationship. 

“No,” you said slightly breathily, as if your body were trying to expel all the anticipation it had stupidly built up. “No, I don't have a boyfriend, Spencer.”

“Great okay,” he smiled, a boyish grin if you'd ever seen one, before backtracking quickly.

“Well not great for you, great for me. Not that you can't be happy alone, I don't know how you feel about…romantic entanglements and I-I-I’m not saying that your life isn't,” he searched for the words with his hands, as of he could grasp them as a life line while he was sinking fast. “-Great without a boyfriend or anything like that, I'm just - really - pleased that position is currently… vacant?” 

“Spencer?” You said, feeling like a cat who got the cream as a smile twitched at your lips, pulling the corners up as you listened to him ramble. 

“Yes?”

“Do you want to be my boyfriend  or are you asking for a friend?” 

You'd meant the words as a joke  but he stood contemplating for a second. You pushed a hand against your mouth to suppress the childish squeal from popping out. 

“It would be a bit presumptuous to shoot straight for boyfriend, right? How about date ....partner?” 

You couldn't stop yourself from closing in on him then, practically cornering him in the elevator as the floors passed you by.

“Presumptuous would be thinking I could have a boyfriend when I've been begging you to stick your tongue down my throat with my eyes for the last half hour. I thought they taught you body language at the BAU?” 

“They teach us how to catch criminals, not how to see when someone is giving us…fuck me eyes, Y/N.” The curse left you a little dizzy - this was it, this was what you'd been trying to do all week, to get under his skin and get him to let his guard down so you could capture him. 

“Doctor Reid, I'm a little scandalized! I didn't know you swore. What a dirty mouth you have.” You reached up with both hands, letting your thumb on his lips before pretending to wipe something away at the corner of his mouth. You were in the perfect position to notice his throat bob as he swallowed.

The elevator pinged at your floor, and you left him behind you with one last swipe of your fingers at his chin. You weren't expecting him to follow, but he did.

“Y/N…please, Y/N…. Can we just…?” You relished the awkwardness in his voice as he trailed you again, a satisfied smile settling onto your face. 

You just kept walking. Or you did until you felt a large hand wrap around your wrist and pull you sideways into the nearest storage cupboard. 

You gasped as he pinned you to the wall, close not, but his eyes still hesitant on what to do next. 

“Spen-” He cut you off with his lips on yours, silencing you before you could get the final word. His lips were clumsy at first, but you felt hot under his touch  arching yourself up into him. His tongue pushed into your mouth as he found his stride, your hands tangling in his hair as you held on for dear life.

This was it. This was what you'd been waiting for. 

Reluctantly, he pulled away, both of you gasping for breath to fill your suddenly empty lungs. 

“Was that….what… you wanted?” He panted, resting his head on yours. 

There were no words. It was what you wanted but now you wanted more, needed more. You settled for a quick nod as your tongue flamed, unable to say anything helpful. 

“Good. Great…” he removed his hands from you and scratched at the back of his neck, putting a more respectful distance between the two of you as he cleared his throat. 

“I'll just-” he pointed to the door and started making his way out. You sighed again, watching him walk away down the hall, his hair a mess, his tie askew, and a whole lot of your lipstick staining his lips. 

Surely, he'd notice by the time anyone else did. If not, you'd just effectively staked your claim on Doctor Spencer Reid, and you couldn't be happier about it.  

[psi-hate]

alright, this really, really sucks but i have an unfortunate update that occurred regarding my recent living situation.

not to get into too much detail for the sake of my friend's privacy, but she and her fiance offered to take me in after i was suddenly on the verge of homelessness this february. i accepted their offer and moved in thanks to everyone's support, and for the last few months, i felt comfortable and capable in getting myself together for the first time in years.

however, despite what i assumed were all positive developments, things started getting a lot more complicated. i become exposed to the treatment and stress my friend has been suffering from her fiance over many years, from being spied on via tracking apps, in-house cameras, a ridiculous jealousy complex and all sorts of other personal issues.

her friends and i have been supporting her over the years, but i didn't realize how bad it was until i started to be subjected to it as well.

my friend decided to break up with her fiance last week, finally standing up for herself but still wanting to remain friends and live as normally as they could, they still had the house and their cats and such. her now ex-fiance hasn't taken kindly to this and has been pretty passively hostile towards us, and has started to take it out on me.

she started stalking my tumblr to find things to get mad at, and checking the cameras when i leave my room. i've not felt comfortable to leave my room in well over a week other than to get some food or use the bathroom in the middle of the night, the tension has been a nightmare.

my friend and i decided we needed to move out, especially me since i'm technically not a tenant and we suspect she's going to call the police on me to get me out of here. my friend will be going to her parents at a later point, but i unfortunately need to leave within a couple weeks as i've already been "indirectly" threatened.

this is sort of a nightmare, and i feel so horrible things turned out this way for my friend. i tried my best, but this feels out of my control. trying to keep the peace has only made things worse, and we think it's best for me to book it before i get blind-sighted.

i suspect if her ex-fiance sees this, she'll retaliate, but at this point i've already made my peace with that.

unfortunately, i won't be able to bring much of my stuff with me, i only have enough money for a ticket to move in with another close friend as an emergency.

i don't have enough to buy any checked bags for most my belongings, especially my desktop pc, so once i move i'm very likely going to not be able to do my art or anything until i can afford a laptop eventually. i'm really sorry to those waiting on any commissions, i'll try my best to get them done before i move. i feel so horrible about this.

if anyone is able to help, i'd really appreciate it. even just a reblog is more than i can really ask. i hesitate to make this request because i feel like i just asked for it only for it to all be wasted once this exploded in my face. but i've been encouraged to reach out, and i apologize if this is too much. my ko-fi:

thank you so much for supporting me so far. i don't want to disappoint anyone anymore. i am so scared but i still want to keep trying.

[licensedproldier]

highlights from the brennan hank interview (aka taking notes on things that i liked or didn't know)

HE STARTED ATTENDING COLLEGE WHEN HE WAS 14?????

immediate jump off topic from hank to ask him about d20 (this happened while fhjy was airing)

"and the greatest project of all, my wonderful family with my wife isabella roland"

bonding over their children

brennan and hank's son both corrected their father's bedtime stories 💀

many elaine lee shoutouts

"his dad met my mom and fell in love" "you did that" "we did that, parent-trapped them"

was pulled out of school in 4th grade for homeschooling because the bullying was so bad....

started a company when they (he and his brother) were fifteen?? called Bootleg Adventures

hank's little awed hiss of "what" to the above piece of information

GOT PART OWNERSHIP OF THE WAYFINDER COMPANY AT 15

"knowledge is something that, when you share it, there's just more. there's no scarcity"

hank staring off into space slightly looking like brennan just blew his mind (we're 11 minutes in)

"we were 14 year old philosophy majors, if you can imagine anything more normal than that"

brennan unable to resist doing fun voices for the people he talks about

he wouldve loved to work at wayfinder full time and said back then hey maybe ill become a famous internet comedian or something and that's how i can help camp. now he's got texts from the staff saying how a bunch of dimension 20 fans have joined and its been a huge boon for them that way 🥺

"it's funny when a really bad plan works. dont make that plan."

"every new community-- is this too sad? no its true" THOSE THINGS ARE NOT MUTUALLY EXCLUSIVE

anyway "for every new community i start with the presupposition that someone is going to pick me up and put me in the trash can" 😭

hank sniping him through the duplex door with "[when you do that] you kind of imagine yourself to be the value you're delivering rather than yourself, or that your value is in what you deliver and not who you are" and brennan going 😐 "that's a great point man"

both of them turning to do pained smiles at the camera 😭

"i think the value is in who you are" "that's really sweet i appreciate that" "but i also love that you deliver"

brennan quoting mary oliver

im starting to feel a little called out guys

robert mckee "stories are not about their premises they're about their conclusions"

brennan also staring off into space slightly thinking about what hank said

the REAL college advice brennan is giving is reportedly "put an egg in your ramen" because thats how you stop your eyes from going "matte finish"

shoutout to vanessa's dumplings for keeping this man alive

"i am ozymandias nerd of nerds, gaze upon my banner and despair"

the moment he felt like something changed was walking into C2E2 and seeing that the biggest hanging banner in the convention hall was of fantasy high. or, as brennan put it, "my dumb face"

"my friends moved in with their partners, the apartment i had with them scattered to the wind, the woman i was dating dumped me after three weeks, and i won a bunch of money on Who Wants to Be a Millionare" "wh- what???"

he taught emily, murph, siobhan, and zac how to play dnd 🥺 and was running a home game for lou at the same time

got hired at um, actually because his name was getting around for being a big dork

zac stepped down from troopers and sam liked brennan's character from a previous casting call (tim curry eating pizza) so he brought him in

its very charming the detail with which brennan remembers these important moments in his life

became a full time cast member in the same week he started dating izzy! "hard to beat week gang!"

"they told us they were launching dropout and everyone had to make a show, which, if you're been trying to make a show your whole life, that's like saying 'bad news guys, there's 24 birthday cakes in the break room and everyone has to eat a whole birthday cake'."

brennan was making a document for a market pitch on an actual-play show when he was called into office and THEY pitched HIM the idea of an actual-play show

"i guess i have tumbled through life to end up here ready to do this"

truly like. one of the guys of all time.

"some of the things that didn't make sense about you make more sense now" hank talking indirectly about how amazing he found all the moving parts of mentopolis and now getting to hear about how long and how many time he's done storytelling it makes sense

"yeah its the one skill"

"i wanted to tell stories before i was anything else"

🎉anti-capitalist rant🎉

"people used to say 'is ucb a cult' and i'd say 'in a cult, somebody is making money'"

HIGH FIVE!!!

[madelynraemunson]

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

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

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

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

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

word count — 6.0k words

“So… what’s your favorite color?”

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

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

“What’s that?”

“It’s a type of blue.”

“You could’ve just said blue.”

“What’s the fun in that?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your stomach feeling okay?” Steve inquires.

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

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

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

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

Your eyes glimmer at the thought.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finally, Steve pulls away.

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

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

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

“So how’d it go?”

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

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

“Do you trust him as your Baby Daddy?”

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, like cerulean.”

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

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

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

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

“Hello, hello.”

“Hey, Henry!”

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

“Hi, darlings.”

“Funcle Number Two,” Eddie greets his partner.

“I thought I was Number One.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Let's just hope he keeps it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Steve sighs and shakes his head in thought.

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

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

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

Suddenly you and Steve look up at each other.

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

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

———

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Til that baby is born,” Eddie estimates.

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

“…The very latest.”

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

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

“Woman, it is 1 in the morning...”

“Yes, and I want Rally’s.”

You give Steve a light thunk on his fluffy head.

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

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

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

“Let’s go.”

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

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

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

———

THE NEXT WEEK

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

Steve comes home right when you finish.

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

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

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

“You…made this for me?”

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

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

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

“Oh,” you sniff.

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

“It’s fine.”

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

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

“It’s okay, Steve.”

“That came out so bad, I…”

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

“You’re crying…”

“I was chopping onions,” you point out.

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

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

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

“Have fun tonight, Steve,” you repeat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“For the baby,” he whispers to you.

“For the baby,” you repeat after him.

The day is here.

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

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

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

“Hand me a glass.”

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

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

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

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

“One…” you gulp.

“Two…” Steve joins in.

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

"Two and a half..."

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

“Three!” you two finally say together.

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

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

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

“No, I’ll look when you do.”

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

...cerulean blue. A baby boy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Our son.”

“Our son.”

———

“What happens when one of us finds somebody?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Baby before anything," you repeat the promise.

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

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

WEEK 38

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

Oh no, it’s happening.

You begin to panic.

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

“Huh?” Steve mumbles, still half asleep.

“Get the hospital bag.”

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

It rings for a long time before he picks up.

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

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

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

“HO-LY SHIT!”

*Click*. The line disconnects.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"That," Henry answers him.

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“PUSH, PUSH!”

“PUSH, Honey!”

“ALMOST THERE, MAMA!”

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

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

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

“0507, time of birth!"

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

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

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

“You did it, Honey.”

Everything happens so fast after that.

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

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

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

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

———

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m your daddy,” he repeats.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until Benny goes to sleep.

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

“Baby…” he moans into you.

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

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

“‘m scared I’ll hurt you.”

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

———

“Fuck, right there, Steve…”

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

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

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

“Oh, I bet you do, Honey.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Anyways, when ARE we having another one?”

———

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

divider creds: @silkholland , @elfbar-baby

[maple-the-awesome]

The Chain Meets Your Baby || 1/2

Part 2 ||

Pairing: Hyrule, Time, Wild, Four x Reader

Requested by @kieradumpzz081927: I hope your request are open(or if ur free for requests), so i saw ur LU oneshots about the one that is called ' He becames a dad ' or smth. So, why not that he would introduce his kid(s) to the chain? That ones going to be interesting Interesting indeed 😈Now, I have my own set of headcannons for what order the Chain becomes dads in, but regardless of their own experience, I'm sure the Links would all subject the new dad to lots of support and teasing. Here you go 💜 Warning: Some mature jokes here and there. Nothing major, but gotta give the new dad a little hell, right? ¯_(ツ)_/¯

Zelda Masterlist 🤍Fandom Masterlist

The last thing Hyrule was expecting to encounter during his village visit was his old traveling companions, the other heroes of courage. Then again, life has been full of surprises lately and it wasn't like he didn't already know that the portals between their worlds are still active. It was only a matter of time before their paths crossed again and honestly, it couldn't have aligned more perfectly.

Happy to see the rest of the Chain again, Hyrule takes the liberty of inviting them back to his home so that they can properly catch up and not be the subject of so many judgment stares from villagers. Throughout the short trip there, the group’s laughter is vibrant as they detail accounts from their recent adventures, soon turning it into a friendly competition of who has the craziest stories. 

This conversation stays well alive all the way from their first steps outside of the village gates to the second Hyrule opens the door to his house, at which point the spirited teasing immediately dies off into a stunned silence.

“Oh! Hello again!” You’re just as pleasantly surprised to see the boys as your boyfriend had been, your smile more than welcoming as you turn around to greet them, yet they’re less focused on you and more so on the small infant you cradle in your arms.

“...I think the Traveler wins,” Wild mumbles, his disbelief shared amongst the rest of the group who merely nod distractedly. 

“Right! I forgot to mention -” Hyrule excitedly hurries to your side before turning to his friends with a thrilled smile, “- This is our daughter, Hope.”

“You just casually forgot to mention you have a kid now…?” Legend narrows his eyes while pointing to the kid in question. He should probably be more annoyed with Hyrule’s tendency of always skipping over important details, but honestly he’s just too shocked to process it right this second.

“Well, she’s only about a month old. Being a dad now takes some getting used to,” Hyrule defends, rubbing the back of his neck timidly, but when you pass your daughter over to him, he shows practice in the way he gently holds her securely to himself before approaching the boys to properly show her off.

Despite their surprise, they’re eager to crowd around him, each wanting to get a good look to ensure this isn’t some clever joke you’re both pulling on them. Fluffy head of dark wavy hair…A little button nose…Sharp pointed ears…Yep, this baby must be yours. She looks exactly as one would imagine the product of Hyrule’s sex life to look like…

“...Geeze. She’s adorable,” Warrior awes, practically leaning over Legend who elbows him back with a glare.

“Isn’t she?” You preen.

“She’s strong, too,” The Vet acknowledges with an unamused pout. He had made the mistake of holding a finger out to the baby only for her to grasp it in an unwavering grip. His attempts at pulling away are fruitless, not that he’s actually trying that hard. Maybe he even likes the feeling of his heart melting just a bit.

“Congratulations. You two must be very proud,” Time praises kindly, having already felt the joy that comes with being a parent himself. He can recognize it in the way Hyrule and you affectionately watch your giggling baby with a pleasant glow surrounding you both.

“We very much are…”

Muffled commotion outside alerts you to the fact that you have visitors long before they stumble into your home, not even bothering to knock as their excitement gets the better of them. Now, any other day, your husband would be quick to scold such ill-mannered behavior, but fortunately for your guests, he's in far too good of a mood to let it be soured.

So, instead of acknowledging the Chain’s less than graceful entrance, Time immediately rises to his feet with a proud hand left upon your shoulder, "Everyone, we'd like you to meet Saria and Mallory."

The young heroes are in awe as they crowd around the bed just to get a look at the small bundles held within your arms. Sure, they've seen babies before, but these are Time's babies. For many of them, the complicated concept of love alone had once seemed out of reach for any hero of courage, yet here the Old Man is, hitched to a lovely wife and now the lucky father of two adorable daughters. It's an amazing accomplishment, really; one that has the entire Chain feeling happy for him.

"They're so little," Hyrule whispers, scared to speak any louder out of fear he'll accidently wake them.

"They inherited their dad's nose, poor things," Warrior jests, throwing a smirk Time's way.

"They'll grow into them," Rather than take it personally, he chuckles while carefully taking one of the girls from you. Despite having only become a father a few hours ago, he's already a natural at handling them. Ever so gently - as if handling the thinnest of glass - he cradles his daughter to his chest and fixes the tiny hand-sewn blanket around her; a gift from her godmother, Malon, of course.

"You'll have your hands full with twins," Four remarks prudently.

You sigh at the thought, your head thrown back against your pillow, "Ugh, we know…”

Although you’re visibly tired after having undergone hours of stressful labor, you still look upon the baby in your arms with nothing short of pure admiration, clearly having no actual regrets towards having either of them. In your eyes, twins just mean all the more love to give.

"Nothing we can't handle," Time promises before getting a mischievous glimmer in his eye while casually extending his sleeping baby out to Twilight, "This one is Mallory, by the way -"

"- W-Wait -!" The Rancher is immediately caught off guard by it, yet his objections are ignored. Time drops the baby into his arms anyway, practically forcing Twilight to take her, not that he truly minds. A natural around children himself, it takes him only a few seconds to adjust the baby comfortably in his hold.

Blind to the other boys who hover around his shoulders, Twilight's eyes are locked in amazement upon the tiny bean who scrunches her nose and whimpers quietly before soon settling down…To think, this small infant no more than a few hours old is a relative of his. He can't help but wonder how closely related they are. How many generations between them? Three? Two? Maybe even just one? It's a strange thought to consider...but also a very comforting one, too.

"...She's a real beauty, isn't she?" Time asks softly with a strong pat to Twilight's back. The only reply he gets is a wordless nod and whimper as the teary eyed Rancher sniffles.

What kind of horrors do they need to prepare themselves for? That's the question that rings through every hero's head as they approach Wild's home. They're concern only grows when - as if sensing them - the Champion suddenly appears in his open doorway with an ear-to-ear grin greeting them...Not the most comforting sight seeing as they've come all this way under his vague request.

A letter had been sent to each of them only giving the minor hint that there’s a certain 'surprise' he can't wait to show them, and with someone as chaotic as their accident prone centenarian, the Chain has every right to be anxious about it.

Even as they all crowd outside of his home, Wild refuses to add any context, instead maintaining his mysteriously upbeat aura before finally stepping aside to allow them in. It's only then that the heroes realize what his 'surprise' is, welcomed by the sight of you as you stand there matching Wild's grin while holding an unfamiliar baby in your arms. She can't be much older than a few weeks, judging on both her tiny features and the obvious bags under both of her parents’ eyes...

"You have a baby?!" Wind screeches with delight, not wasting a second to race to your side.

"Her name is Mikan," Chuckling, you kneel down to let him better see your pride and joy. It isn't long before you're surrounded by most of the heroes who are immediately taken by your daughter's cuteness.

"When did this happen?" Time inquires through a raised eyebrow, one of the few Links who had remained by the door with Wild.

"Uh, she'll be three weeks old tomorrow," Wild answers, his hand darting up to rub the side of his neck. He knows that isn’t exactly what Time meant, but it’s the easiest answer.

"I didn't think you -..." Begins Twilight quietly. Although he ultimately cuts himself short, the curious look he gives his successor wordless finishes what he might've said.

Nodding slowly with some hesitation, Wild bows his head while looking back over to you. There's a fondness in his eyes as he watches you carefully pass your daughter over for Wind to hold, "I know what I said before. I...I didn't think this was something I could have - something I could want this badly, but...Well…I probably don’t need to tell you how it is…”

Twilight pats Wild’s back with a knowing smirk, indeed understanding. He’s happy to see his friend finally accept the peaceful life he deserves instead of continuing to run away from it, after all, Twilight has never been blind to the curiosity and faint jealousy that would shine in Wild’s eyes whenever listening to the other heroes talk about their families. He’s been long overdue to have one of his own.

"Hey, just one question," While Wind is busy cooing and rocking your daughter, Four turns around to address Wild once they finally join everyone else, "Did you really name your daughter after a fruit?"

Wild's cheeks flare in embarrassment, "I - It can be a pretty name, too!"

"I'm actually the one who chose it," You confess sheepishly, taking the attention away from your partner, "I was really craving tangerines throughout the whole pregnancy."

"At least it's a somewhat normal name. I was half expecting you to name your future kids something like 'Biscuit' or 'Curry'," Legend snorts.

"...We did consider picking 'Sage'.”

Warrior laughs heartily before throwing a hand over Wild shoulder with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows, "Can we expect that to be the second child's name then?"

"Woah, woah, woah - Let's settle down now, gentleman,” You immediately scold while also taking the chance to save your poor partner by pulling him away from the onslaught of teasing he was about to endure, “One baby at a time. It’s not easy carrying those things, just ask your wives!”

Four has been off into his own little world - That is to say, he’s been both distracted and extremely tired; a terrible mix, but hey, it’s nothing he hasn’t dealt with before. Despite his eyelids feeling like bricks, he remains awake and alert, arms folded across his chest as he sits in the bedside chair keeping watch over your sleeping form. 

You need the rest more than him anyway. Your husband has been through some pretty fearsome and ravenous beasts in his time, yet your work last night easily trumpeted every hell he’s undergone himself. Best to let you sleep unless he wants to change that statement.

A series of echoed knocks send Four bolting through the house, hissing a curse under his breath before tossing the front door open with plans to scold whoever’s on the other side, yet he’s stunned into silence when he realizes it’s no poorly timed mailman, rather the very friends he had invited over…although, they did come a lot sooner than he thought they would…

“WE’VE COME TO SEE -!”

“- SHHH!!!” Four nearly smacks a hand over Wild’s face. 

“- …The baby…” Wild finishes with a whisper and a grimace.

Four quickly ushers the Chain inside, allowing them to make themselves comfortable with STRICT orders to keep the noise level down. Yes, their early visit may not have been exactly anticipated, but Four holds no ill feelings towards it, in fact, he’s rather smiley while leading them to the nursery.

“Here they are,” He practically sings, eagerly looking inside the large crib as if he, himself, still can’t get enough of its contents. He has every right to be infatuated, “These are my girls~”

Although Four is bubbling with joy as he admires his little creations, the rest of the Chain stands by with wide eyes. Some even take the time to count each baby just to confirm that they are, indeed, seeing triple. Inside lies three little newborns, each fast asleep after having about as stressful of a day as their parents.

“We’re thinking of naming them Marigold, Amber, and Camelia. You know, keep to the color theme and all…”

“Damn, three of them, huh? You didn’t hold back at all, did you, Smithy?” Warrior observes aloud, much to Four’s instant lack of amusement.

“They’re so cute~” Wind coos, Twilight having to pull him back before he accidentally falls into a crib again.

“I suppose it’s a good thing I brought some of the twins’ old stuff then,” Time hums, his smirk holding a hint of sympathy. Needless to say, he doesn’t miss those early days of juggling babies himself, as much as he loves them dearly.

Four preens at the attention his daughters get, however his smile falters when he notices Sky sticking to the very back of the group, awkwardly rubbing his arm and chewing down on his lip. Four frowns.

“...I’m sorry. We should’ve waited until we told -” He keeps his voice down as he joins the older hero who is quick to shake his head and muster his best smile.

“- No, no. We’re happy for you both. Really…” Despite the sorrow stuck in his voice, Four can tell Sky means every word of it, even the sighed: “...You’re a very lucky guy.”

“...I am,” While there could be more said, he realizes now might not be the time to discuss it. Not with so many new babies in the room.

“No wonder you wanted us to be quiet. I can barely handle one newborn at a time, let alone three at once?” Legend mumbles half to himself, his finger gently cresting one of the baby’s chubby cheeks.

“You know, if you ever find your house getting a little too quiet, you can always babysit -”

“- No way in hell. We already have our hands full as it is.”

[samwinchesterism]

in re: “cas knows dean better than sam”

“cas sees dean as a whole person and sam just sees dean’s façade as his big brother slash parent” but like how and where. outside of your fanfiction. season and episode. scene and line. if it’s so obvious and apparent you should have at least 3-5 concrete examples right? “sam doesn’t know dean carried him out of the burning house” yeah but did cas? outside of a footnote in the angelic manila folder they gave him between seasons 3 and 4 so he could better manipulate him and sam into doing heaven’s bidding? like if you’re going to say “cas knows dean better than sam” than you need to show how cas succeeds where you perceive sam to be failing at the very least. but even your perceptions of how sam doesn’t measure up are so warped, blinkered, and moronic that it wouldn’t even be worth much if you could provide the textual evidence, but at least you’d have a semblance of a point. like say anything without going “as an eldest daughter…” “well my relationship with my sibling isn’t…” please say anything without fucking projecting your own self-pitying crybaby bullshit onto your little woobie dean and using the actual canon text of the show. I’m literally begging you.

like the thing of it all is and always has been that you’re so hell-bent on twisting the sam and dean relationship to fit into this narrow and almost entirely inaccurate mold which is the basis upon which you build the entire Destiel Mythos that you literally lose all sense of media literacy. you don’t even miss the forest for the trees, you miss the trees for like, the pretend invisible things you’re seeing in between the trees, the forest is a whole long way away from your current level of perception. because the Destiel Mythos is based entirely on the fact that dean is Not Seen and Not Appreciated and Not Loved and Cannot Be Himself until cas comes along, and that Family (read: sam) Is Only A Burden on Him That He Must Be Freed From In Order to Flourish, so you keep trying to warp the sam relationship into something that is only one dimension of it – and keep ignoring the ways in which dean is seen, loved and understood within it, because you need to keep lying to yourselves that there is a narrative need to emancipate dean from something that he has never wanted emancipation from because it is ultimately a net good for dean in the particular circumstances of their lives. it’s also profoundly unhealthy, codependent, evil and toxic etc. (a lot more dean’s fault than sam’s but I will nawt be getting into all that right now) but that doesn’t change the fact that sam and dean both know and understand and feel deeply that they are each other’s person – that they know the best and love the most in the world. but that – which IS true canon fact – is incompatible with the Destiel Mythos so it must be ignored and all good sense must be thrown out the window in order to do it.

anyway i digress there are two main categories of Bad Thinking that i will be addressing below

childhood/ “parent/child” / blah blah blah

every single thing people are saying in favour of the deeply stupid thesis in the title of this post is proof positive of the very silly form of ‘analysis’ I just described. a few things:

“wah sam didn’t know that dean carried him out of the burning house :( this means that dean withholds things from sam to protect him because he is a PARENT and sam can only know things about him in the context of him being a PARENT to him” – what the fuck are you on about genuinely. first of all reducing the sam/dean relationship exclusively to parent/child is in itself foolishness for so many reasons that I don’t have time for right now. but also, it’s clear that this is just something that happened when sam was a baby that just never came up. in the scene (1.09) where this is brought up, dean is mildly surprised that he or john never mentioned that detail and then states that sam knows the rest of the story (i.e. the actual traumatic stuff) just as well as dean does – which is true, demonstrably whenever they talk about it.

obviously there are some things that happened to dean in their childhood that sam doesn’t know about (or didn’t know about, until told in whatever episode they come up in). equally, there are things dean doesn’t know about sam’s childhood, e.g. the fact that he was so lonely he needed a zanna (11.08). or how dean didn’t remember that sam was friends with barry cook until he mentions it when they go back to their old school (4.13). or about the nature of sam’s relationship with amy pond (7.03). these don’t mean that ‘sam withheld these things to protect dean out of parental love’ lol, it’s just that there are details and events in each of their lives that the other happens to not have been told about.

similarly “sam didn’t even know dean wanted to be a firefighter L” girl did dean know sam wanted to be a lawyer? in 1.01 he’s pretty surprised that sam has a law school interview. the point here isn’t “neither sam nor dean know each other well,” these are minutiae that aren’t relevant to how well you know someone as a whole, and very poorly demonstrate the bad and inaccurate point that dean withholds things from sam the way a parent does a child (on a constant or regular basis). obviously the way they were raised, sam was deemed too young to know about certain things until he got older and dean had to keep that secret, but as shown in 3.08 flashbacks, most if not all of this is eventually revealed throughout their childhood when sam is still fairly young.

or possibly the dumbest one is that “wah sam doesn’t even know that dean reads books L” whenever that was he was also obviously joking because in more serious moments (e.g. 8.14) he admits that dean is smart/a better researcher than he is, literally remembers dean reading to him as a kid (8.21) so like. clam down  

one of the extra annoying variants of this type of ‘proof’ covers things that are very clearly novel pieces of information about dean that dean, sam, and the audience are learning about dean in real time. like if you’re actually watching the show to comprehend it as it was intended to be comprehended, instead of funnelling everything through the Destiel Machine until it’s unrecognizable slop that fits neatly into your pre-ordained molds that Make Destiel Necessary In the Narrative (when it actually isn’t, at all) it’s abundantly clear. the top two worst offenders:

“sam didn’t even know that dean is good with kids :( he doesn’t even realize that dean raised him :(” first of all you people need to understand that parentification does not literally create a parent-child dynamic between siblings but I digress – this doesn’t make any sense bro. in 1.03 dean admits he doesn’t know any kids as an adult. dean being good with his own kid brother when they were both kids is to any reasonable person not necessarily linked with him being good with other random kids when he’s an adult. in 1.03 it’s clear that dean himself is a bit surprised that he’s able to connect w/ lucas so well because he’s clearly not dealt with a lot of kids since sam grew up. the whole point of this is that dean, sam, and the audience are all sort of seeing a new side of dean. who again is just 26. after this very early episode, there’s no question from sam that dean is able to connect w kids. sam being a bit surprised by this also has absolutely zero connection with him not understanding or realizing that dean looked out for him when they were both kids – sam is standing there at 22 years of age talking about adult dean and children – of fucking course he doesn’t mean himself are you stupid.

from the very first season, sam is very clearly aware of everything dean ~did for him~ when they were kids, see e.g. 1.21: “Dean...ah...I wanna thank you. […] For everything. You've always had my back you know? Even when I couldn't count on anyone I could always count on you. And I don't know, I just wanted to let you know, just in case.”

and 1.06: DEAN: Well, I’m a freak, too. I’m right there with ya, all the way. (SAM laughs.) SAM: Yeah, I know you are.

and then possibly even more stupidly, the one where it’s like “wah sam doesn’t even know dean can cook :( he doesn’t even know that DEAN was the one making him food as a babe in arms :(” – when sam is surprised that dean made something fairly gourmet and from scratch literally the first time they have ever had a permanent living space with a functional kitchen. in this VERY scene (8.14), dean himself points out that they haven’t had a kitchen before and when sam remarks on the irregularity of him doing serious cooking, he says “I’m nesting”, clearly showing that this is a novel development because they now have a kitchen, and that it’s irregular relative to past behaviour – both of them acknowledge this. because real proper in-depth cooking and making box mac and cheese for sam until he was like 11 and old enough to be left alone are two different things, which sam understands because he’s smart, unlike whoever chooses to make this point. dean never showed significant signs of liking to cook before this, which is what the exchange is about, but he did have to prepare food for them both when sam was too young – of course sam knows he had to, there are childhood memories referred to (e.g. 14.11) where sam is mentioned to literally help dean do the cooking as kids lol (and yes, genius, sam says ‘I didn’t know you knew what a kitchen was’ or something to that effect, but if you think he’s being 100% literal there I have an oceanfront property in Kansas to sell you)

again, obviously there are pieces that sam doesn’t know about dean, e.g. when he’s talking about his response to mary dying in 1.03. but again, Sam is 22, dean is 26, the last time they were in regular contact was when sam was 18-20, these are things that happen when people grow up, they’re able to reflect and share on childhood experiences if they’re close with their siblings as adults. it’s clearly not something that 26 y/o dean wanted to hide from 22 y/o sam. yes sam didn’t know everything about how dean felt when they were young, but that’s equally true in the other direction, and it’s such an irrelevant point in this discussion when, crucially, sam does learn these things about dean mostly fairly early on in the series (i.e. when they’re really not that deep into adulthood yet). cas was also not magically blessed w/ knowledge about dean, he also had to learn whatever it is that he knows, but somehow sam has to know everything about dean from age 7 or it doesn’t count when it’s sam lol.

“sam doesn’t know the One True Dean / doesn’t see through his facades”

the next branch of defending this flawed thesis is invariably that sam has little idea of the fronts and facades that dean puts up and is content to just believe them, whereas cas digs deep and sees the One True Dean that stupid sam always misses. there is nothing in the text that demonstrates this is true. multiple times, we see sam being very knowing of the fact that dean puts up fronts and facades. sam is also knowledgeable of the way dean perceives himself, and – demonstrated in multiple episodes before such sam lines were very poorly recycled and regurgitated into cas’s dialogue in 15.18, but keep acting like that was the first time anyone ever showed that they knew the One True Dean.

Obviously there are times where sam teases dean when he’s being more touchy-feely than usual, but 9.99 times out of 10 (as a conservative estimate in case there's something i'm forgetting otherwise i would say every time) that’s very clearly coming from a place of knowing the real dean vs. the façade he puts up because that’s the whole joke. and it’s allowed to be a joke because they’re siblings and that’s what siblings do lol. esp since sam and dean have touchy feely moments at the end of like every episode.

examples of all of the above off the top of my head (there are more than these, but these are the ones I can think of):

2.02 (about John’s death)

Sam: “I mean this ‘strong silent’ thing of yours, it's crap. […] I'm over it. This isn't just anyone we're talking about, this is Dad. I know how you felt about the man.”

Dean: “You know what, back off, all right? Just because I'm not caring and sharing like you want me to.”

Sam: “No, no, no, that's not what this is about, Dean. I don't care how you deal with this. But you have to deal with it, man. Listen, I'm your brother, all right? I just want to make sure you're okay.”

2.03 (Sam to Dean, also about John’s death): “You know, you slap on this big fake smile but I can see right through it. Because I know how you feel, Dean. Dad's dead. And he left a hole, and it hurts so bad you can't take it, but you can't just fill up that hole with whoever you want to. It's an insult to his memory.”

Note that Dean essentially admits that Sam is right in these two instances in 2.04 bc I know yall have stupid shit to say about john too that has nothing to do with how anyone actually felt about him in canon

3.07 (about Dean’s demon deal – also proven true in later episodes)

SAM: Dude, drop the attitude, Dean. Quit turning everything into a punch line. And you know something else? Stop trying to act like you're not afraid.

DEAN: I'm not!

SAM: You're lying. And you may as well drop it 'cause I can see right through you.

DEAN: You got no idea what you're talking about.

SAM: Yeah, I do. You're scared, Dean. You're scared because your year is running out, and you're still going to Hell, and you're freaked.

DEAN: And how do you know that?

SAM: Because I know you! […] Yeah, I've been following you around my entire life! I mean, I've been looking up to you since I was four, Dean. Studying you, trying to be just like my big brother. So yeah, I know you. Better than anyone else in the entire world. And this is exactly how you act when you're terrified. And, I mean, I can't blame you. It's just […] I wish you would drop the show and be my brother again. 'Cause... (can't find words; tears in his eyes) just 'cause.

5.18 [Sam figures out what Dean is doing re: his plan to let Michael possess him, tracks him down, and eventually is the catalyst for Dean ‘making the right call’, which he predicts] – e.g.:

SAM: No, you won’t. When push shoves, you’ll make the right call

DEAN: You know, if tables were turned…I’d let you rot in here. Hell, I have let you rot in here.

SAM: Yeah, well…I guess I’m not that smart.

DEAN: I—I don’t get it. Sam, why are you doing this?

SAM: Because… you’re still my big brother.

8.14 (basically the o.g. version of whatever went on in 15.18 + sam intrinsically understanding the trials are a death wish for dean): “I'm closing the gates. It's a suicide mission for you. I want to slam hell shut, too, okay? But I want to survive it. I want to live, and so should you. You have friends up here, family. I mean, hell, you even got your own room now. You were right, okay? I see light at the end of this tunnel. And I'm sorry you don't – I am. But it's there. And if you come with me, I can take you to it. […] I AM smart, and so are you. You're not a grunt, Dean. You're a genius – when it comes to lore, to – you're the best damn hunter I have ever seen – better than me, better than dad. I believe in you, Dean. So, please – please believe in me, too.”

10.22 (understanding how much dean has ~done for him~)

SAM: I'm saving my brother.

CASTIEL: You told Dean—

SAM: —I know what I told Dean. Cas, look. I've been the one out there, messed up and scared. And alone. And Dean—

CASTIEL: He did whatever he could to save you.

SAM: Yes. I mean, it's become his thing. I owe him this. I owe him everything.

10.23 (basically the o.g. version of whatever went on in 15.18, x2 – from Sam to Dean): “You were also willing to summon death to make sure you could never do any more harm. You summoned me because you knew I would do anything to protect you. That's not evil, Dean. That's not an evil man. That is a good man crying to be heard, searching for... some other way. […] You will never, ever hear me say that you -- the real you -- is anything but good.”

11.13 (Sam understanding exactly how Dean feels about Amara being his ‘deepest desire’, and confirming that it doesn’t make him a bad person)

Dean: Why? Because if she is that means that I’m…

Sam: Means you’re what? Complicit? Weak? Evil?

Dean: For starters, yeah.

Sam: Dean. Do you honestly think you ever had a choice in the matter? She’s the sister of God, and for some reason she picked you and that sucks, but if you think I’m gonna blame you or judge you…I’m not.

Dean: You know that I want her ass dead.

Sam: Yes. Of course. And I know you’ve also probably beaten yourself up a hundred times over it, but where has that gotten us? (Long silence) Just how bad is it?

13.02 (Sam perfectly explaining Dean’s psyche to Jack)

JACK: Is that why Dean hates me?

SAM: Dean doesn’t hate you. It… Look, sometimes the wires in Dean’s head get crossed and—and he gets frustrated, and then he mixes frustration with anger, and—and fear.

JACK: Why would he be afraid?

SAM: Because Dean feels like it’s his job to protect everyone. And right now, we need to protect you. But we may also need to protect people from you.

14.03 [Sam assesses Dean’s psychological/emotional response to the Michael possession; end of episode, Dean confirms that Sam’s assessment was fully accurate]

14.10 [Sam is the only one able to snap Dean out of his weird Michael mind loop by using their code word]

14.11 [Sam figuring out that something is troubling Dean just based on the fact that Dean hugs him]

15.17 (self explanatory at this point)

DEAN: Chuck has to die. He has to! Otherwise he'll keep us tap dancing forever, and I can't live like that, man! I can't live like that! I won't!

SAM: I know you feel like that right now, okay. I know you do. But you gotta trust me. My entire life, you've protected me— from Dad, from Lucifer, from everything. I didn't always like it, you know, but... it's the one thing in the whole world that I could always count on. It's the only thing I've ever known that was true. So please... put the gun away. Just put it away, and we'll figure it out, Dean, we'll find another way, you and me. We always do.

like maybe there are some cas moments w dean along these lines too. i don't know, i don't remember what the guy says or does anymore it's been too many years and he is not memorable. but the point is where and in what capacity and based on what metric other than the amount of bad fanfic you've read does cas exceed sam in these respects.

so basically just. genuinely, what are you people literally ever talking about. go watch the show instead of saying stupid wrong stuff about sam on the hellsites all day. or watch another show (please for the love of god watch any other show this one is absolutely lost on you and it’s such a stupid one too i'm embarrassed for you)

[tiredandoptimistic]

Stan and the cycle of abuse

Like a week ago I saw this good post about Stan and the twins, how with Mabel he's silly because that's what he never got but with Dipper he's stern because that's what he needed. I think the last line was about how punching was all Stan every felt he was good at. Anyways, it wormed it's way into my brain and I typed out a whole response, but it got eaten by tumblr and I lost the original so now I'm just making my own post.

What's so interesting to me about Stan's philosophy towards raising kids is that he's trying to pass on the lessons that saved his life. We don't get too many details about what his life in the time between being kicked out and the portal incident, but it's more than enough to make it clear that he's wound up in just about every shitty situation a person can find. Like he tells Ford, he's been to prison in three different countries and once had to chew his way out of the trunk of a car. He's homeless and living out of his car and motel rooms. He doesn't even have enough money to pay for a loaf of bread. He's got a bat ready to protect himself from "goons" coming to collect on some sort of debt. Being a tough guy and quick liar who'll kick anybody's ass is what's let him survive to age thirty. When Stan gets thrown to the curb, he yells "I don't need you, I don't need anyone!" and he's more or less right. Sure, he's gone through some awful stuff; but as soon as he got a stable house to live in he builds up his own business that thrives for thirty years. The lessons in boxing and cheating and "being a man" paid off in a big way, so that's what he wants to pass along to Dipper. That way, when the world picks a fight, he'll be able to fight back.

Here's the thing though: Stan shouldn't have had to do any of that.

Yes, Filbrick's "tough love" parenting is what prepared Stan for life on the streets, but it's also what tossed him out on the streets to begin with. If Filbrick was really a good dad, he wouldn't have left his seventeen-year-old son to fend for himself. Stan doesn't seem willing to acknowledge this, probably due in part to the extreme guilt and self-loathing he feels leading him to believe that he deserved the treatment he got. Filbrick was straight-up abusive in a lot of what we've seen of him, but Stan sees that as just how boys are raised, so it's what he passes on to Dipper.

It's just something about how Stan is desperate to prepare Dipper for the horrors while also fiercely protecting him. He wants to toughen Dipper up, but Dipper doesn't need to be tough and independant like Stan because he's got the support system Stan never had. If he ever got kicked out by his parents, Dipper would have Stan, Ford, Mabel, Soos, Wendy, and the entire freaking town of Gravity Falls lining up to give him someplace to stay and a warm meal. Sure, Dipper had to fight literal actual monsters at a very young age, but he was never alone for it. When Dipper falls, there's someone to catch him.

I simply love how Stan's attempts to be a good guardian lead to him being kinda shitty in an attempt to protect Dipper from things that he'll never have to face precisely BECAUSE Stan is such a good guardian. I hope that at some point he realizes that the way his dad treated him was fucked up, and that Dipper deserves some of the straighforward caring that he seems to have an easier time expressing towards Mabel.

[genderqueerpond]

You know, I think Clara knew about Amy.

Not at first, of course, but Clara grew up with her --- that is, grew up reading Amelia Williams books. And they were precious to her, books she's read many times over the course of her childhood -- how else does she know exactly which chapter holds what in the book she gave Artie? Perhaps she has always felt connected to her, this moderately obscure children's fantasy author, following in the footsteps of E Nesbit; this contemporary (and sometime friend (oh yes!) ) of Edward Eager's; although not nearly as widely known as either of these. Perhaps because of her choice to publish openly under a "woman's name", thus, in the time in which she lived, relegating her books to the inferior realm of "girls' books", despite the more than equal balance of male viewpoint characters.

But Amelia Williams is different from these authors too -- often fantasy, but sometimes more like early science fiction, a barely- recognized pioneer in both genres. Her views were feminist and daring. In so many ways she was ahead of her time, and the innovations she imagined! almost as if she knew what the future would hold.

And if Clara knows and loves her books so well, she can hardly fail to recognize the most frequently repeated character archetype in them. especially after she rereads a few on a subconscious hunch, during that summer after the Maitlands found a permanent nanny and she insisted that before anything else, she go off and fulfill her original travel plans from 101 Places To See. (The Doctor purported to leave her alone to forge her own way with this, but was in actuality very bad at that, and kept popping up nearly every place she went.) She's Clara, she's clever, how can she fail to look up from her book and notice that the person who's just appeared out of nowhere to stand in front of her with a plate of jammie dodgers and a goofy smile has stepped directly out of the pages?

And then of course, there are the dedications. Sure, there's normal stuff like "to my daughter", "to my loving and patient husband", and "to my parents, who are children now" which is rather weird and whimsical, but fits in with the fantasy author's signature style of dream-like imagination.

But the majority of Amelia Williams' dedication pages say things like "to You", "to My Doctor", "to My Raggedy Doctor" "to my raggedy man" (weird but clearly connected to the other variants), and, cryptically, over and over again: "to you", "to you", "to you", "to you (wherever in time and space you are)".

There's "to my imaginary friend" and "to my imaginary friend, and to all children who have an imaginary friend" and "to my imaginary friend, and every child in the universe who's ever met him, or ever will". Nerds and English teachers have occasionally debated what, if anything, she meant by all this, and now Clara thinks she knows, but she can never say....

And then there are the nights that the Doctor wakes up crying out for "Amy!" and then refuses to talk about it when Clara asks, refuses to acknowledge ever even knowing an Amy, "well everyone shouts random things when they're asleep, it doesn't mean anything" and "I don't remember." if pressed for details about his dreaming. And later he might go off somewhere and cry quietly, reading a book he never lets Clara see.

And then he regenerates, and calls out for "Amelia!", "the first face this face saw."

There's newborn twelve, with his Scottish accent, letting her name slip. It's the first - and only - time he's spoken of her while awake and not actively dying. And Clara is too busy with the immediate threat to their lives to think about it in the moment, but at this point she at the very least has a hunch about the connection between him and the Scottish-American author with the rather opaque background --- that as far as anyone can trace it (although to be fair, no one really cares enough to try very hard) she and her husband just kind of appeared out of nowhere in pre-WWII New York. It seems kind of obvious, now, that the doctor would have had a hand in that.

And now with all the books everywhere, the library gradually migrating into the console room, what else is obvious is that he owns every single one of her books. multiple copies, first editions, last editions, signed copies, mass paperbacks, everything. There's a TARDIS key hidden in a well-worn, well-loved, tear streaked copy of The Cuckoo And The Doll's House, which Clara finds when she's cataloging all the locations of TARDIS keys, just in case she should ever need that information one day.

This all is enough for Clara to know. There doesn't really need to be any more proof, but there is. What totally and fully clinches it are the pictures. Tucked in the pages of another tearstained book (The Beast Below this time), are photographs of Amelia, looking just as she does in her black and white author photos, but younger, and in 21st century clothes. Elsewhere, later, she finds photo booth polaroids of a still younger Amelia, goofing off and smiling. Some of them feature another young man Clara doesn't recognize, and some of them feature the Doctor. He's wearing a tweed jacket instead of his purple wool, and no vest, but otherwise he is exactly the same as the Doctor she first met. The three of them hang off each other like old friends, like family.

idk how to end this.

[valkyrieromanoff]

JAMES KELLY IMAGINE: The mechanic and the spoiled princess

word count: 3.8k

warnings: age gap, praise, pet names (spoiled princess, little princess, good girl), mention of sex

summary: Your car breaks down for the tenth time and James is your mechanic.

a/n: After seeing many edits of this character on tiktok, I had to write something about it. I hope you like it, maybe it's not so faithful to the character ;)

After everything that had happened to his brother, James wanted to leave everything behind and start over, far away from New Orleans. And that's what he did. He gathered up all his savings and bought a one-way ticket to Portland, where he got a job as a mechanic in a workshop in the city center. It wasn't much, but he managed to rent an apartment and live comfortably without being haunted by the ghosts of his past.

It was a Sunday afternoon when you walked into the workshop where James works, and he smiled when he saw you. After all, in the four months he'd been living in the city, you must have visited the mechanic's shop about ten times.

"Hey, you, what happened this time?" James joked, raising an eyebrow as he wiped the oil off his hands with a cloth.

"Hi, uhm, my car broke down again," you said, biting your lip nervously. 

You used to show up at the garage; your parents always brought their cars in for maintenance, oil changes, or any necessary check-ups. It was a hot day; you'd chosen a flowery dress and red sneakers, your brown curls tied up in a ponytail with a ribbon, and your eyes covered by sunglasses.

James raised an eyebrow, leaned against the counter that held his tools, and crossed his arms. "Y/n, come on. It's been a month since your last visit." "What's wrong with it this time? Is it the transmission again? Or did you forget to change the oil?"

"Do I have to change the oil every month?" You asked, frowning in confusion.

He sighed and shook his head. 

"No, of course not. Do you know how to check the oil in the first place?" James asked, rolling his eyes. "I know you're young, but you should know that, at least now."

"Let me guess; you don't know how to change a tire either." He joked, leaning closer.

"I, I mean, I know how to change a tire. I've just never done it, but if I need to, I know how to do it," You said, trying to believe your own words. James narrowed his eyes and looked into yours.

"Y/n, the last time your vehicle broke down it was because you ran out of oil. You literally only need to change the oil every six months in a car. And it's very necessary for the engine." 

He sighed and pinched the tip of his nose. "How did you get your driver's license again?"

"The practical test doesn't require changing a tire or oil," You retorted, crossing your arms, making the neckline of your dress more obvious. "But I filled the tire once at the driving school"

James let out an exasperated sigh, shaking his head. He couldn't believe that someone as beautiful as you could be so carefree. He let his eyes roam over your body and smiled. 

"Well, I'm not exactly complaining." He joked, winking at you. He paused and shrugged. "Well, anyway, what's wrong this time? Let me guess, you ran out of gas again?" "No, I know when I need to fill up. I'm not stupid." You snorted softly, crossing your arms over your chest. "I don't know what happened; everything was fine with the car when, out of nowhere, it started making some strange noises."

James' ears perked up at these strange noises? "What kind of noises? Is it coming from the front or the back? Or is it the engine? Give me more details, and maybe I can find out." He suggested it, raising an eyebrow. "I think the noises are coming from the front." You mumbled, biting your lip. "What if I showed you the car? Wouldn't that make it easier for both of us?" He nodded, smiling, and pointed a finger at you. "I like the way you think. Show me the car, and let's see what the problem is." James replied, winking at you.

"But there is one little problem," you confessed shyly.

He raised an eyebrow, already sensing what you would say.

“What’s this little problem now?” James replied, smirking.

"Well, my car broke down at my house, so I couldn't bring it to the mechanic." You said, looking at him expectantly. "Can you help me? Please"

James sighed and let out a groan.

“Fine, fine, I’ll help you. But you know it’s gonna be at least a few hours, right? And I swear, if I have to change the oil in your car, I’m gonna choke you.” He replied, narrowing his eyes at you. He was trying to be mad, but it was obvious that you would get him to do whatever you wanted so easily. Damn that smile.

"Thanks, James; you're the best." You said, smiling excitedly.

He let out a huff and shook his head. It was obvious that he was pretending to be annoyed. He then sighed and began putting on his jacket and grabbing his keys from his pocket.

“Just come with me. I’ll drive you to your house. And try to learn how to change a damn tire while you’re there.” James replied, glaring at you. You were absolutely adorable.

"I'm sure I'll learn a lot from you." You shrugged, running to the sidewalk where James' car was parked.

You looked adorable in your sundress, red converse, and bow in your hair. Your delicate face and innocent smile remind James that she was almost half his age.

James rolled his eyes as you skipped over to his car. He thought you were absolutely beautiful. He opened the door for you and waited for you to get in. The thought of teaching a pretty girl who looked like that to be independent made his heart flutter.

After you got in the car and shut the door, James got into the front seat and drove to your house, looking at you from time to time.

"My parents are at a neurology convention or something on the other side of the state." You commented, looking out the window, your finger tracing the rain marks on the glass of the passenger window. "Can you believe they only warned me today when I called them, asking why I was home alone." You sighed, putting your head on the back of the seat.

He was a little surprised by the fact your parents left you home alone for a few days. Although you were of age, your parents always seemed so controlling and attached to you. They kind of treated you like a child, maybe because you were an only child or something.

"Oh, and I see you’re really just a little princess. Parents go on a business trip for a few days and leave little y/n here all alone. You must be helpless without them.” James teased, smirking as he looked at you from the corner of his eye.

He then focused on the road, waiting for your reaction.

"Don't be annoying; I know how to take care of myself; it's just that I would have preferred to have been warned beforehand." You retorted, your chest rising and falling as you sighed dramatically. "My parents never even let me go on school trips; it's a bit strange that they just disappear out of the blue."

James smirked and nodded, still trying to hold on to his laugh. The image of this little princess, helpless without your parents for a few days, made him want to test your limits.

“So basically, you’re saying that you haven’t had a sleepover without your parents before? Oh, that makes you even more adorable.” He teased, winking at you.

“I was always very well-behaved as a child. And well, my focus was on getting into medical school, not hidden  parties." You commented, taking off your sunglasses and biting the stem. James's breathing became tense at your movement. "Not that I didn't go to parties, I just, well, it wasn't my priority. And I kind of had a boyfriend at the time."

He let out a groan and rolled his eyes, clearly in shock.

“So you’re saying you never snuck out and went to a crazy party at 14? You didn’t have those teenage rebellious years? You weren’t grounded once for dating someone your parents didn’t approve of? Wow. You truly are a princess if you’ve led a perfect life.” He replied, looking over at you.

"I'm the good girl stereotype. I was a cheerleader, class leader, and president of the UN mock. I had better grades, and I dated the football team captain." You snorted, as if your adolescence was a long time ago, although it's only two years ago. "And well, now I'm in medical school to follow the family tradition."

James let out a low whistle, impressed by how flawless you were in every aspect. You literally were his dream girl. You were beautiful, had good grades, had a good sense of humor, and came from a successful family. You had to have some kind of flaw.

“So what’s the flaw? You can’t possibly be perfect. That would be too good to be true.” James asked, smirking. And yes, he was flirting with you. He didn't even try to hide.

"I guess I just wanted to reach adulthood. And now I realize it sucks." You muttered, looking down at your own hands resting in your lap.

James smirked, surprised to hear you curse.

“What’s wrong, princess? Can’t be a little more vulgar than that? It fits you more." James teased, smirking as he looked at you from the corner of his eye.

"My parents forbade me from swearing; I think it's still a little weird to swear out loud. It sounds wrong.” You confessed, your cheeks blushing at your honesty.

He thought it was adorable how innocent you were. It was like he was the one who corrupted you.

“Wow, so swearing is taboo in your family? I assume they don’t let you drink as well then..?” He teased again, winking at you.

"I'm 19 years old, James. You know that it's only after the age of 21 that you can legally drink here in the US." You reminded him, raising an eyebrow.

He pretended to be shocked and widened his eyes in response.

“So you mean to tell me that the spoiled little princess never snuck out and tried a sip of alcohol with her friends?” James teased, smirking at you.

He focused on the road again, waiting for your response.

"Well, I never drank. Or I went to parties in secret; in fact, my last party must have been school dances." You confessed, twirling a curl around your finger.

“You mean to tell me that you actually did have a high school love life? Damn girl, you really didn't sneak out and not tell your parents anything. You really are a good girl.” He teased, smirking. He couldn’t help but notice that his heart was beating faster the more that he teased you and made you admit to innocent things. 

"Wait, what about your high school boyfriend? Did you have to hide him from your parents?"

"It was actually my parents who introduced me to him, he was the son of one of my father's colleagues." You explained, tilting your head to look at him. "We met at a Christmas party that my parents' hospital hosts every year."

“So this boyfriend of yours was perfect, huh? I assume he was on the high school football team too, right?” He teased, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Yes, he was the team captain." You sighed, raising your eyebrow in amusement. "Am I that predictable?"

“Of course, you are precious. I’m starting to think you were probably a goody-two-shoes in high school. Not a single rule was broken. Not a single bad word was spoken. No sleepovers. No kissing the captain. Not even sneaking out to be with him.” James teased, making it very clear he was teasing.

“You were a perfect angel, weren’t you?” He smirked, leaning slightly toward you.

"We did more than just kiss, if you want to know." You retorted, your cheeks turning red at your own words.

He let out a small laugh at your words, his smile wide on his face.

“So you aren’t always innocent after all. Are you more into the ‘bad guys’ then? I thought you were the princess who only dated the captain of the team.” He teased, smirking as he waited for your response.

"Well, I only had one boyfriend," You confessed, biting your lip. "I can't say I have a lot of experience"

He raised an eyebrow, surprised by her confession. “Wait so you’ve only been with that one boyfriend? You haven't even had a few no-strings-attached snogs? You’re saying you were a good girl all this time?” He teased, nudging you. James looked out the window as he drove, waiting for your response.

"Well, I dated George since freshman year" You commented, looking at your legs, playing with the hem of your summer dress. “So, I had a boyfriend, I wasn't going to get involved with other people"

He let out a groan and sighed, not even bothering to hide his smile anymore. You were just so innocent and cute.

“So tell me, what happened with George? Did you two break up or what? Or did you finally muster the ability to break out of your good girl routine?” He teased as he looked at you from the corner of his eye.

"I am studying medicine at Harvard, while George went to Yale to study law. So, we ended up breaking up because long-distance relationships don't  work." You explained, the hem of your dress had ridden up due to the tightening of your belt. You tried to pull it down gently.

James' eyes fell on your legs, lingering longer than he should have.

“How tragic! So the spoiled princess couldn’t stand not being with her football captain boyfriend, so she broke up with him. I’m sure you must have been absolutely heartbroken.” James teased, smirking yet again. He took a small turn and focused on the road, waiting for your reaction.

"Actually, it was a bit of a relief. I don't know if I really liked George or just the idea of him. My parents wanted us to be together, and I think I just accepted that." You confessed, grabbing a gloss from your handbag to apply to your soft pink lips.

“So you’re telling me that you were so desperate for your parents’ approval that you never even thought about what you wanted? That you were willing to settle down with a college football star just because your parents wanted you to? That is such good girl behavior.” James teased, smirking at you. He noticed the application of the lip gloss and was fixated only on your lips for a good minute or so.

"You know, we were going to get married when we finished school. Now this seems so stupid, but my parents thought it was a great idea." You commented, giggling at the memory.

James rolled his eyes dramatically.

“Of course, the only child of very rich parents goes on to marry a college football star. Oh, I wonder if your parents will be satisfied with a surgeon as your husband. Or will you marry into a political family next?” He teased, looking at you with a grin. He couldn’t help but notice your full lips and the way the lip gloss made them look even more appetizing.

"I don't even know if I want to get married. My focus right now is on graduating from medicine and getting a good  job."You murmured, moving your lips together to spread the lip gloss. Before you parted your lips to check the application.

The sight of your lips and you applying the gloss was distracting him more than it should have, especially since he was driving. He tried to focus on the road, but the more his eyes wandered to your lips, the more his heart beat faster.

He cleared his throat, bringing his eyes back to the road. He looked a little flustered as his cheeks became a soft red.

“Wow, so are you saying that the princess actually has motives and aspirations other than being daddy's girl?” James teased.

You rolled your eyes, ignoring his speech.

He let out an exaggerated groan, but he was still teasing.

“I swear, you’re giving me more surprises than a box of cereal. The little princess actually has aspirations of being a doctor. Wow, I never would have thought.” He teased again, looking at you again from the corner of his eye. James couldn’t help but focus on how his tone and tease seemed to have affected you, turning your cheeks a light red. He had never met anyone so innocent. It was intoxicating.

"And what are your ambitions, James? Do you intend to be a mechanic all your life?" You asked genuinely curious.

He let out a laugh and rolled his eyes.

“Me? Oh, I don’t have ambition like you, princess. I’m working my butt off on this shitty job because I couldn't afford college, and some shits happened in between.” James mocked, looking over at you, although there was some truth in his words. 

He raised an eyebrow, looking at you from the corner of his eye.

“So what? Do you think I’m a loser?” He asked, waiting for your response. "For not having a fancy degree?"

You curled your lips at the amount of swear words in his sentence.

"No, I think your profession is very worthy." You stated gently. "Who would fix my car for the tenth time in a month if they didn't have you?" You retorted with a playful tone.

He raised an eyebrow, his eyes gleaming in mischief as he heard your response.

“I guess it works out then, I have a princess constantly breaking her car down for me to fix. And the best part is, she’s too innocent to know how to do it herself so she has to keep coming back.” James teased, looking at you.

He felt a rush of blood going where it shouldn’t but he ignored it, refocusing on the road. What was wrong with him?

You smiled softly, looking away from the window. The journey was peaceful until you arrived at your huge and fancy house.

James pulled his car into the driveway of your house, turning off the engine. He took a deep breath, trying to control himself, when he saw the expensive-looking house. He then realized the way his heart was racing in his chest and how sweaty his palms had gotten. James shook his head, trying to clear his head, and looked at you.

“This is your house, huh? So this is where the spoiled princess calls home, huh?” He teased, smirking. His heart kept beating faster.

You rolled your eyes, opening the gate with the controller.

"Welcome to my humble home, James." You spoke, your lips curling into a mischievous smile.

He rolled his eyes again, pretending to be offended.

“Humble? Don’t you mean the Y/S manor? How modest of you to call it humble, but it does kind of remind me of a dollhouse. I wonder if this is where you play princess dress up. You even must have a pink porch!” James teased, winking at you.

"I would even invite you to my room to find out, but I think you'll be busy with the car." You retorted, with a mix of innocence and malice in your smile.

James raised an eyebrow, a smirk spreading across his lips. You were going a little back and forth between being innocent and sassy. He liked it a lot. The fact that you were being playful and giving him a reaction just made him want to test his luck even more.

He stepped closer and widened his body, forcing you to lean slightly against the desk in the garage that was next to you. He stood closer than was necessary, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him.

James cleared his throat. “Oh, really?”

You parted your pink lips, your tongue sliding between them nervously. Your chest was rising and falling as your breathing became harder due to your proximity.

"Why don't you find out?" You teased him, raising your eyes to look at James.

He thought he saw a hint of lust in your eyes, and that gave him the courage to pull closer to you, his eyes becoming even more fiery. James was getting the feeling that he would be able to play with you, and you would just keep reacting the way he wanted you to.

He smirked and spoke in a low voice: “Oh, you’re challenging me, princess?”

"Only if you're willing to play." You retorted, biting your lip as you held your breath in anticipation.

James smirked, noticing you were getting impatient with him.

“Oh princess, I thought all those years as a princess you would have learned to be a little bit more patient." He teased, moving his thumb to the corner of his mouth. “Oh, and you bet I’m gonna play with my delicious little princess." He replied maliciously, winking at you.

James crashed his lips against yours, his hands squeezing your hips and pulling you closer. You closed your eyes when your lips touched. The way James' mouth moved against yours in a soft and possessive way made you gasp.

He parted his lips and deepened the kiss. One hand moved up to your waist while the other one held the back of your neck firmly. James kept you pressed against his body, feeling your warmth against him. His heart was beating even faster than before. His mind and his body were screaming for more—a lot more. His hands now trailed lower on your hips.

James felt his heart skip a beat and his chest rise. His mind was a little dizzy from your touch. He couldn’t think clearly at that moment; he could only feel you. His hands were now on your thighs and sliding up to your hips.

James was kissing your neck, biting it softly. He was getting so lost in the way your body felt under his lips and hands and in the taste of your sweet mouth. He was holding you tightly, biting down on your bottom lip, moving his hand under your sundress, kissing your neck and your ear, and whispering to you dirty words that made your cheeks blush.

James was touching the sensitive spots that were under your dress. He was getting out of his mind completely. His hands were moving quickly and passionately all over your body, touching and teasingly caressing parts that he wasn't supposed to.

But who could blame him? How could James resist the little princess, who had a crush on the mechanic?

[yanderestarangel]

So I just finished reading the newest Bi Han fic that you fed us with and now it got me thinking. If it’s fine with you, how well would he take care of (ftm) reader when he finds how that the reader is pregnant? And how well of a father Bi Han would be himself?

This is my first time asking for something like this. So if you don’t want to do it, then it’s completely fine!!

Have a nice day🦾

headcanons mk1 ┊father bi han x pregnant reader

TW ┊ftm reader, pregnancy, first time parents, fluff, soft Bi Han, cute headcanons, little smut, breedkink, breasts, pussy etc are mentioned to refer to the reader, lactation, sex during pregnancy, childbirth, gender neutral baby.

a/n: I see him as a father figure... Father of my children.

໒ Sorry to place your order just now, I'm a bit busy with other things, btw, I hope you like it <3

Bi Han was still a surprise for him to discover that you were pregnant with his baby. But it wasn't a negative surprise... In fact, deep down he always wanted that, even if you would only find out later.

It was a surprise for him, but not for you, after all, every time you had sex for a year it was without a condom and Bi Han always ended up inside — and with all his commitment to being grandmaster he totally forgot this crucial detail, it was obvious that One time or another, even with your care, some mistake was going to happen and after the last meeting between the two of you, you soon started to feel nauseous and even feel sick at the smell of your own boyfriend.

So with all the suspicions, you took a pregnancy test hidden from the cyromancer — and confirming all the clear signs of the last few days... the two lines confirmed that you would be a father. You obviously got tense, cried and despaired, having a mild panic attack in the bathroom of your shared house with him. You didn't know how to think or what to think, but you knew you couldn't hide it from him.

You sent a few messages and called him soon after, you didn't usually send so many messages while he was at work so he immediately got worried and returned your calls as quickly as he could. You cried on the other end of the line while Bi Han's deep voice showed concern and irritability, precisely because you made him nervous and didn't get straight to the point.

"Calm down, breathe, what happened my boy? I can't understand you with you sobbing like that."

The sentence was punctuated with a heavy sigh coming from him and he was practically getting ready to go home to see you, when you dropped the bomb that you were pregnant, with him, you were going to be parents. You expected shouting, swearing and a heated argument, but all you received was silence and then a calm sigh heard from you on the other end of the line.

"I'll be home in a few minutes, have a glass of water and calm down, let's talk about this ok? And no, I'm not mad at you."

That was all you heard before he hung up, his voice was so soft that it scared you, but instead of you becoming desperate you just did as he told you, trying to calm down a little. You heard his heavy footsteps arrive and soon Bi Han's tall shadow was seen by you, before any words you just felt his muscular arms squeeze you tightly in a tight and safe hug, a silent way of saying that he was with you. you and not against you... It was his non-verbal way of saying that he also wanted that.

"I was really surprised, I won't be a hypocrite and lie that I expected you to get pregnant with me now but... You are my boyfriend, the man I am sharing my precious time and moments of my intimate life with, details that only you and I know, I trust you my boy, and I want you to trust me, I'm more than happy to know that I'm going to be a father with you."

A barely visible smile could be seen on the killer's thin lips as he placed a kiss on the top of your head.

"Regardless of everything, I will accompany you my love, I will be with you and sincerely?"

He paused, getting out of the grip and making you look deep into his brown eyes.

"You're going to be a handsome man with a round belly running around the house and carrying my children."

The dreaded Sub zero, was... happy, almost as if the heat had returned to his body, his large, cold hand was now warmer as it found your belly with no sign of swelling, for now. Soon after that, you felt the tears come, as the two of you hugged each other tightly and felt the fear and uncertainty be replaced by a warm feeling of welcome and a prosperous future. You knew that even if he was a cold man, for you, he could change into his best version to see you smile.

When your belly started to take shape, even if small, Bi Han became even more protective than he was. You weren't even lifting a finger to do anything at your house — he woke up earlier, cleaned the house, the dishes and left lunch ready for you while he prepared his lunch to take to the Lin Kuei or some money to eat at a restaurant next.

But that didn't mean he was going to leave you aside, on the contrary, his lunch hours were extended so he could stop by your house and check if you were okay or needed anything - his cell phone, which was previously on silent mode ; now all the notifications were turned on and the volumes were high enough so that he would already be aware of any signal from you. He would fill you with messages and would constantly send some Lin Kuei recruit to deliver a basket of fruit and sweets to you and he would always check if you ate everything.

"I want to see you well fed, you're going to be a father, you're pregnant with the future heir of the Lin Kuei in your belly so you better eat well, do you hear me, baby boy?"

Bi Han would be serious and placing a hot and appetizing plate of food for you as soon as he returned from the clan, he would make sure to feed you every day and make sure you didn't skip any meals.

He became more attached to you too, making a point of accompanying you to every medical appointment you needed to go to and at the baby's first ultrasound he couldn't hold back the tears that insisted on coming down, he didn't really care about the baby's sex as long as the child would be healthy and well and that you too would be well in the process.

He felt like he was in a sweet dream, seeing you looking beautiful walking around the house with a growing baby bump — you had become needier and he didn't deny that he loved it. Seeing you all touchy holding his biceps while he held you from behind and felt your belly, watching your breasts fill with milk and smiling mischievously.

"My boy is all affectionate, isn't he? You're more beautiful this way, you know? Round, with those beautiful breasts that are even more swollen... I can massage them if they're too heavy."

The ninja teased you by seeing the pout you made while he smiled and touched your breasts, his cold hands helped with the constant pain you were suffering from the formation of milk in your mammary glands. And soon after, this ends in sex, more affectionate and careful sex, since at that point your belly was already big and heavy enough and he didn't particularly want to hurt your baby. So Bi Han would always go from behind and slowly insert his dick into your pussy, holding your belly and making you use his body as a safety bar, not wanting to let you fall or get hurt. Soft strokes were given by him inside your wet hole while hoarse grunts could be heard coming from your boyfriend, his balls beat rhythmically at the entrance to your cunt while he placed kisses across your shoulders.

"You're such a beautiful man... Fuck-- do you know how hard it makes me? Knowing that you're going to be mine forever--? That we're going to have a family together? Do you know how much I love you?"

He obviously loved your body, especially the extra weight you gained during pregnancy, it was soft, sweet and he wanted to sink into your flesh.

"I can't believe my boy is so excited... Even pregnant."

He moaned as he squeezed your breasts lightly and made some milk come out of the nipples, licking his fingers and tasting the sweet taste. After a few thrusts he would pull out of your pussy and finish outside, cumming in his own hand so as not to dirty your insides and make it difficult for you to clean yourself.

"I promise I will breed your little pussy as soon as our child is born... I will get you pregnant again later, I promise."

The birth was something different and difficult, a storm of emotions ran through his mind when he saw his water break and the clear liquid coming down your legs — luckily he was late that day and managed to be home when you needed him. He saw the pain and despair in your eyes and didn't even imagine how much it must hurt.

"Calm down, calm down ok? Take a deep breath, shh... Yes exactly like that, good boy, let's go to the hospital. I'm with you on this ok? Look at me."

Bi Han would calm you down as he picked up your bag with the necessary things and put you in his car, driving impatiently and taking you to the nearest hospital.

The hours passed slowly as he practically made a hole in the marble floor beneath his feet, with his arms behind him, he heard your screams in the room and tried not to do anything crazy. He even felt his ice powers go out of control, but he took a deep breath and calmed down, thinking that in a few hours he could have you in his arms again... When the doctor came to inform him of the birth of his child he practically left running to see you in the living room, with the little baby already cradled in your arms, you were tired, sweaty and pale... But he swore to everything that he had never seen a more beautiful man in his entire life. Tears came out of his eyes again and he finally cried as he held on for fear of breaking the little baby you two had made.

"They looks like me..."

Bi Han said, trying not to let his most vulnerable side show but it was in vain, as he leaned over to kiss you on the forehead.

"You got it my prince, you gave me the most precious thing in my life, you are such a strong father..."

He said with a silly smile and saw the nurse take the baby from his arms to place it back in yours, to the little child to feed. The cyromancer observed everything and mentally promised to be the opposite of his father, to be a good father and really take care of you and his child, not to make the same mistakes in his upbringing that he had. And he kept that promise. You didn't need to wake up every time the baby cried, Bi Han did it for you and only in cases where you needed to feed the child did he wake you up, watching the baby sleep again in your arms while kissing you on the temple, apologizing for having disturbed your sleep — he also took a month's vacation from the Lin Kuei to spend the whole day looking after your child, you could see the dark circles under his eyes getting bigger but he didn't feel obliged to rest for more hours, the feeling of being a father was incredible for him, and he has never been happier in his life.

"I'm fine my pretty boy, our little snowflake fell asleep again and I don't want to wake them up..."

The grand master smiled tiredly as you saw the baby sleeping on his chest and he just let you, closing his eyes rhythmically but returning to waking up at every sign of the baby moving. Overall, 10/10, he's really pleased to have gotten his boyfriend pregnant and have a family to call his.

[yuri-is-online]

There's Mud in Your Eye (Leona and Deuce x Yuu)

"Oh can I help you? You seem to be lost." You attempt to cheerfully ask the vaguely familiar looking person in front of you. As if he is deliberately trying to rub salt in your wounds, Crowley ignored your request to leave campus for NRC parents day and is instead making you and Grim run errands. The person in front of you, blissfully ignorant to your inner turmoil perks up at your attention.

"Forgive me for asking, but are you the magicless prefect?" You and Grim exchange a confused glance. "You've got to be right?" They're practically glowing with how happy they are to see you. " Oh I'm sorry, I've just heard so much about you!" Wait, what?

notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, i am out of creative ways to describe these: it's Cheka and Mamma Spade. Slight references to the White Rabbit event. If you liked this please check out the previous parts on my master list here.

Leona

A very confused, very important looking little lion is standing in front of you, attempting to mimic Leona's judgey thinking face. Five year olds lack the smarmy bitterness required to truly pull off the look, but you have to admit, it is pretty cute.

"Um, do you think he ran away from his guards again?" Grim whispers, painfully loud and without nearly enough concern. "Do you think we'll get in trouble if we can't get him back to his retainers?" The scenario feels completely unreal, but then again so does standing in front of royalty. Who are you again anyway? Just some weirdo who is going to have to apologize to their loved ones for taking so long to come home because you couldn't sneeze in another world without bumping into royalty. While you are busy considering whether or not it would be considered child neglect to sprint away from the little guy, Cheka finally finishes his thought process, letting out a contented "hmmm" as he points decisively at you.

"You," he says with all the authority of an extra on a children's tv show "are not Unca."

Well.

That was not what you were expecting. Your mind draws a lengthy blank as Cheka grins up at you in a surprisingly catlike manner seemingly very pleased with himself.

"How did it take ya so long to figure that out?" It has to be a truly stupid question to get Grim's voice to crack.

"Well I decided I was gonna sneak up on Unca." A terrible idea really but who are you to refute royalty. "So instead of running around and askin I decided to just focus on his scent! But I found two places he could be so I just decided to go to the closer one."

"Whatdya mean?" Grim takes a deep breath and interrupts his train of thought with a hard gag you really hope is dramatic. "Oh wow he ain't wrong, you really smell like that lazy bi-" You manage to muzzle him before he can teach Checka too many bad words. You wonder if it would be rude to sniff yourself in front of a literal prince, Cheka's pleased little tail swish doesn't help.

"Can you please take me to Unca?" he asks, so very sweetly looking up at you like you're the shiniest star in the night sky. It hurts to disappoint him.

"Uh I'd love to little guy but I'm not too sure where he is..." you really hope Cheka can't tell just how nervous you are. Crowley did give you a schedule, but it wasn't super detailed, just a vague set of notes about the various events going on.

"Then I'll just stay here with you!" He says, with a surprising degree of authority. "Unca's scent is really strong so I'm sure he'll show up soon!"

''I don't think that's a good idea little guy." You just called the Crown Prince of the Sunset Savannah a little guy. Which he is but you are pretty sure there's a time period where that would have gotten you executed, and you can only pray it's not now. The intense look of what you assume are Cheka's guards running up the main street is not helping with that.

"Your highness! Please don't run off like that." The man seems wary of scolding the prince, but he has no qualms about staring you down. "You! What is your name and who do you think you are to be speaking so casually to-" He cuts himself off, bluster fading as he takes a deep breath and starts staggering away from you. Well not you per se, you realize as you turn around and see an extremely intense looking Leona behind you.

"Stop blamin' your inability to do your job on other people." Leona's voice is slow, authoritative enough that you almost forget he's supposed to be the second prince. The guards do too, until Cheka jumps away from them onto Leona's shoulders and shatters the illusion just a bit.

"Unca! Unca! You're gonna show me the spelldive fields right?" Cheka nuzzles his Uncle's cheek while Leona tries his best to get away.

"I thought you were gonna stay with Prefect." He grumbles.

"We can come with." You say before you fully realize what you're saying surprised at how ok you are with the offer. Cheka lights up, jumping away from his Uncle to nuzzle up to you. Leona's gaze softens ever so slightly, even if he immediately breaks eye contact and starts walking away from you.

"You're welcome to come if you can keep up." You try to convince yourself you follow him just to get away from the guards, but there's a spring in both your steps no one is brave enough to act like they notice.

Deuce

"Yuu! And Grim too! Lucky me I thought I was going to be stuck looking for my kids for at least another hour." Dilla Spade cheerfully says, her decision to refer to you as her child momentarily distracting you from the fact Deuce is nowhere to be seen. She seems to have been granted a day off from work, her usual delivery uniform ditched in favor of a very mom like set of old sweatpants and an old athletic jacket with a logo you assumed belonged to Deuce's middle school.

"Mama Spade!" Strange feelings aside you are extremely happy to see Dilla, and happier still when she perks up just a bit at your calling her mom. "Did Deuce forget to text you again?"

"Not exactly," she says with an affectionate sigh "I caught up with him a bit earlier but he ran off to find his Housewarden. He really wanted to introduce us but said it might be a bit difficult to make that happen."

"Yeah..." Grim says as you exchange a look "Riddle's a really busy guy."

"Well never mind then." She says with a shrug. "What's up with you? Deucey tells me all sorts of things, but it's never the full truth." You shouldn't be surprised Dilla knows something is up. Honestly it's a wonder any of the students with a half way decent relationship with their parents hasn't been yanked out of this school already.

"Nothing too bad I hope?" You say, hopeful that Dilla will give you something to work with so you don't confess to something too wild. She laughs.

"I'm a mom, worrying's part of the territory." You breathe a sigh of relief, though you can't help but wonder just what Dilla's reaction would be to knowing Deuce had fought four overblot phantoms. Would she be proud? You hope so, he deserves it. "I keep telling Deuce to invite you to spend summer with us but he's really hung up on doing things the 'honorable way.'" You try your best not to fluster.

"What's that even mean?" Whines Grim, probably thinking more about the donuts you had while visiting Clock Town more than the implications kicking around in your mind. "offerin' to help me and my hench human out is honorable enough!"

"It really is," you try not to come off as too eager, it would be really nice to spend the Summer somewhere that wasn't Ramshackle, even if it would hurt the ghost's feelin-

"Is Deuce waitin' till he can afford a ring or somethin'?" Grim says, crossing his little paws and sticking your words in your throat. Dilla winking at the little monster with a conspiratorial grin makes you choke. "He is isn't he! Hmph, figures. Well he knows he won't get the Great Grim's permission!"

"Grim!" You squeak.

"Well you are a bit young," Dilla says "but you have my blessing prefect."

"I- I think there's been a bit of a misunderstanding-" you don't want to get anyone's hopes up, you aren't even dating Deuce, you want to say that you don't like him that way, but the lie dies on your lips as a familiar duo comes into view just behind Dilla.

"MOM! oh and PREFECT!!!" The overwhelming joy in Deuce's eyes contrasting with the smug amusement of Ace makes you feel just a bit more at home, despite the awkwardness of the situation. You can almost convince yourself that he's running up the road on the double just to see you.

"Think of it this way," whispers Dilla, firmly placing a hand on your shoulder in a comforting and not forceful way "you're family, and you always will be no matter what label gets slapped on things. Though I am pretty sure you can guess Deuce's preference."

You can, or at least you can hope.

[fall0utmind]

MEDICAL LEAK AU pt2

Part 1 here

Chapter 2 is up on ao3

🤍🤍

Please be advised of content warning for suicide - no descriptions but some cruel words - see ao3 for sections to skip and message me if you need to.

Feedback is always appreciated

Would you still love me if I told you my darkest secrets?

Ch 2-

~3k

They stumble through the doorway to the motorhome, Marc instantly collapsing onto the worn couch tucked into the corner. Alex has procured a blanket from somewhere and is busily tucking it around him, refusing to let Marc out of his sight. He bustles around the small kitchenette, busying himself with making some coffee.

Neither of their parents were able to attend the race this weekend. Marc doesn’t know if he is grateful for that, or not. They both knew, of course. It had been a testing time for the family, the fallout with Valentino, along with the public backlash, and Marc’s declining mental health had left him heartbroken and hopeless. After his first attempt, Marc returned to his room stripped bare. All signs of Valentino Rossi expunged whilst he was in a hospital bed; the only reminder was his broken heart. It had just made Marc cry harder at the time, Roser wrapped around him in his childhood bedroom. It had taken him many years to pick up the pieces after that, with several other falls along the way. But he takes comfort in the fact he is still here, life has beaten him down over and over; he has been kicked (literally), beaten, and spat out by both Vale and the media, but he always kept going. His family has made it out, they are safe, and he is safe. And really, that is all he can ask for.

Alex observes Marc with increasing concern. He has been on the sofa, swaddled in blankets, for 45 minutes with no signs of movement. His coffee mug is forgotten in his hands, as he stares blankly at the wall, no doubt revisiting the years that haunted them both. As much as Marc likes to pretend that he is unaffected, Alex knows that those years did lasting damage to his psyche; he has noticed in the way he acts around others, how he no longer trusts so easily, and how he seems to be acting around almost everyone except a select few people. He knows that his older brother harbours a lot of guilt for the past, thinking that he had done Alex some kind of disservice. Alex is just glad he still has an older brother.

At some point a Gresini representative knocks on the motorhome door, speaking to Alex in hushed tones. After they leave, Marc numbly listens to his brother relaying the extent of the damage. The media has found out about Marc’s suicide attempts in 2015, but no one knows the details, and it is hoped that it will stay that way. So far, no other records have been accessed, or at least not published. Legal is already working tirelessly to understand what has gone wrong, but for now there is nothing Marc can do. News has spread fast, and Marc does not doubt that by tomorrow the entire grid will know about how fucking pitiful he is. The thought makes his head hurt and his eyes water.

“You should try to get some sleep. The team are putting out a statement about respecting your privacy but for now there is nothing more we can do”.

Marc nods slowly, feeling adrift amongst all that has happened today. He rises unsteadily to his feet and shuffles to the bathroom. He flicks the switch and blinks heavily at the harsh lights which blind him. He almost doesn’t recognise the person in the reflection, with a pale face and hollow eyes. He shudders, it reminds him of a time when every mirror would render the same hideous portrait of despair every day. Marc pointedly avoids looking at his reflection again. He knows Alex won’t leave him alone tonight, fearful of the unhealed wounds the past has left which have once again been reopened. Instead, with a resigned sigh, Marc finishes in the bathroom and hauls himself into bed, Alex curling up on the other side. The position is so reminiscent of their younger years, filling him with a hollow kind of sadness. A heavy blanket of exhaustion weighs upon him, and that, alongside his brother's soothing presence, lulls him into a deep sleep.

*

Marc awakes to an empty bed and the sound of knocking on their motorhome door. He takes a moment to recentre himself. It must be around 8 am, given the way the light spills in from the window. It is Saturday morning in Misano and yesterday the entire MotoGP world discovered arguably his biggest secret. Marc isn’t sure good morning is appropriate.

The hushed whispers of two familiar voices filter in from the living area, clearly speaking softly to let Marc rest. He groans and blindly feels around for his phone, before remembering that Alex had taken it off him at some point yesterday. It was probably for the best that he didn’t know what the media were saying right now. Bastards.

He rolls out of bed, grabs a pair of sweats and the first t-shirt he sees (it is definitely Alex’s, given that it’s way too long for him) and stumbles into the kitchen, where a cup of coffee is already waiting on the counter. He has never been more grateful for his little brother and his worldly knowledge that 8 is too early for Marc. He’s a little shocked to see Aleix Espargaro sitting next to his brother on the sofa, both watching him with matching worried expressions. He would laugh at the sight of the two men mirroring each other in such a dad-coded way, if not for the current circumstances. Instead, he frowns back at them. Aleix rises to his feet, approaching Marc cautiously, giving him a chance to move away, before drawing him into a tight hug.

“I’m so sorry. I had no idea.”

The older man holds him for some time, Marc’s head tucked into his neck. As he pulls away, Aleix’s hands come to the side of his face, holding him gently.

“Promise me you will tell me if it happens again, I do not like the thought of you in so much pain. But now I see that you have already been through it. You should never have had to do it alone, Cariño.”

His eyes are anguished but sincere throughout his speech, observing Marc with undisguised worry and affection. Marc can’t stand it and looks away once Aleix has released him, worrying his lower lip. The older man takes this as his cue, thanking Alex for his coffee, and quietly making his way over to the door, not before shooting him a concerned glance.

“You will let me know if anyone gives you shit today, I will keep an eye out for you. Look after yourself, Marc.”

And with that, he’s gone, the quiet snick of the door behind him. Marc raises an eyebrow at Alex.

“What was that?”

Alex sighs, “He is concerned about you, hermano, he has always had a soft spot for you. He is annoyed at himself for not noticing sooner.”

“I hide it well”

“I know”

*

The rest of the morning is relatively normal. The people he interacts with are evidently unsure of the acceptable conduct for this situation; Marc finds it terribly amusing, in a dark kind of way. He has decided the best course of action is to pretend nothing has happened in the twisted hope that if he ignores it, everyone else will too. He’s sure his old therapist would be delighted. The security presence in the paddock appears to have suspiciously doubled overnight. People are staring, he can feel it in the way the back of his neck prickles, but no one approaches him. He doesn’t care if they must bring in the goddamn military if that’s what it takes to prevent another PR disaster.

He makes it to the pitlane in record time, dodging all signs of human life, taking the back alleys wherever possible. He enters the rear entrance of the Gresini garage, finding his crew to check in before qualifying. He is pleased with the bike set-up from yesterday, feeling confident in the pace this weekend. On the bad days, Marc thinks he will never know the feeling of winning again, that he will never experience a champagne shower from the top step of the podium, the world chanting his name. That he will fade into irrelevance, a has-been of the sport, once Valentino Rossi’s great rival, now just another name. But this year is the closest he has come in 3 years, and he is not willing to let go without a fight, because Marc Marquez is synonymous with winning, it is his purpose and his destiny. If he is not riding, if he is not winning, he does not know who he truly is.

He watches the junior categories warm up, reminiscing on those days of his career, before the pressure and before Valentino. He is glad to see David achieving so much this season. He sees a younger version of himself in the boy and it scares him, terrified that the young Columbian will get burnt in the same way that Marc did. He vows to do everything in his power to protect him but let him grow into the world champion he is destined to be. They already training together, and Marc can see the way he is rubbing off on the teenager, he just hopes that does not become a curse.

*

The second free practice of the weekend occurs without a hitch, landing both Alex and Marc into Q2, much to the chagrin of the Italian fans (and really, could people not let it go by now?). Marc is determined not to let the recent events hinder his performance. Despite this, he is increasingly aware of his rising anxiety about facing the others on the grid. His mind is consumed by thoughts of judgement and disgust, creating pictures of his colleagues deserting him, refusing to be seen with him as in 2015. No matter how hard he tries, even after his talk with Aleix this morning, he is frantic with worry, unable to sit still.

“You will wear a hole in the floor if you do not stop soon.”

Alex appears from around the corner, watching him pace.

“We need to get ready. Are you feeling okay?”

Marc can’t face the idea of putting the younger through even more pain because of him, so he simply nods in agreement, refusing to meet the unconvinced look Alex is no doubt giving him.

He already has his leathers on, so he grabs the rest of his kit, and starts towards his crew, Alex heading in the opposite direction. He shoves down his fear and greets the people waiting for him with a plethora of fist bumps and hugs. He is grateful that his team are treating him as usual, seemingly recovered from yesterday’s shock. Some had wrapped him in a hug earlier this morning, others laying comforting hands on his shoulders, unabashedly showing their support and filling him with warmth. He holds onto that feeling as he prepares to ride, knowing a few more people are fighting in his corner.

*

Marc feels alive. The bike is singing underneath him, so responsive to him. Every move is calculated to perfection, cornering on the edge of impossible - he’s probably giving the guys in the garage a heart attack every lap. But he feels like he’s flying, whipping around the track on a bike that loves him as much as he loves it. He knows he’s putting in good times, his pace almost matching the newer Ducati, something which is the talk of the paddock at the moment. The move to a different constructor has brought a new lease of life to his career, quieting the doubts and prompting the whispers: “Marc Marquez is back”.

By the time the checkered flag falls, Marc is on top of the world. His mind wiped clear of the media, Valentino, and 2015. He doesn’t know where he placed, and it isn’t until he looks up at the timing board and sees his 93 at the top of the list, that he allows himself to grin.

Marc rides back to the garage, tailed by Alex, still grinning under his helmet. He is greeted and is greeted with a warm reception from the team, cheering as he and his brother come to a halt. He is rained in congratulations from his team, hands slapping his back and wide smiles directed at him. It is then that he spots Dovi. His old friend is standing to the side, a proud smile face. Marc has no idea what he is doing here, but he isn’t about to complain, having missed the older man in recent years. Dovi was one of the few people who had his back all those years ago, for which he is endlessly grateful. He jumps off his bike and almost straight into Dovi’s arms, uncaring of the cameras trained on the pair.

“What are you doing here?”

“Ah, can I not come and see my friend outperform everyone in the sport that we both love?”

Marc huffs a laugh in response, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. He knows why Dovi is truly here, despite his friend’s bullshit, but he cannot bring himself to be annoyed about his obvious weakness. It is nice to have a friend who is not Alex around. He knows affection is rolling off him in waves but simply does not care -pleased at the ease that is quick to settle between them, despite the years.

“I will be with you in a few minutes, go annoy someone else whilst we debrief”

Dovi laughs at that, making Marc grin, all teeth, in return.

Debrief is a quick affair, the team are delighted with p1, and simply want to talk about the race set-up, as well the minute areas for improvement on track. They release Marc after 20 minutes, giving him proud smiles and comforting touches as he leaves. He is once again overwhelmed by his love for the team which has re-awoken his passion for the sport which has taken but also given him so much.

A quick scan of the garage tells him Dovi has found one Alex Marquez to annoy, much to Marc’s amusement. He grabs his phone off the table (he had regained possession of it from Alex earlier) and turns it on for the first time in 12 hours, desperate to check his messages since he has 5 minutes to himself. He scrolls through his notifications.

His manager and parents have messaged, the latter asking him to call them when he has a chance, although he’s sure they have probably spoken to Alex, explaining the lack of urgency. He has a message from Casey Stoner, telling him to keep his head up and to ignore the media, although his choice of words is a little stronger. Marc lets out a startled laugh, warmed by the unexpected gesture from the older man. The next text makes him stop in his tracks, confusion bubbling inside him. It’s from an unknown number, and simply reads “Stop playing games.” A sense of unease fills Marc as he deletes the message, unwilling to entertain whoever thinks they can hide behind a screen and say what they want, he should just forget about it. The final and most recent text is from Dani. It simply reads “Tell Dovi he’s a dick for stealing my thunder. Unfair advantage, he was already in the country. We’ll be there in a few hours.”

A hand lands on his shoulder from behind, and Dovi’s head follows. Nosy fucker. He lets out a cackle at the text, pulling away to laugh even harder. Marc very much feels like he’s missed a joke, and he has no clue who “we” refers to. He simply replies to the chat with a thumbs up and accepts his fate of being coddled by the older riders for the rest of the weekend.

*

The pole position high doesn’t last very long. Marc and Dovi are walking back towards the motorhomes when he comes crashing back down to earth. Saturdays are always a bit chaotic at the track. But today, it feels worse than usual, with people staring and murmuring as they pass. Some of the comments are less than pleasant. Marc tries not to let it affect him, portraying a persona of indifference, no matter how much the words sting. Dovi talks lowly as they walk, his presence reassuring amidst the harsh whispers washing over them, swelling in a crescendo of cruelty.

“-he should have taken more pills”

“-can’t believe he actually did it”

“How selfish-”

“Have you seen the articles? I read that-”

From the limited information he has been given, or overheard, Marc gathers that the public reaction to the news has been mixed, to say the least. Some people are outraged by the leak and the subsequent media frenzy, destroying any sense of privacy left in Marc’s life. Others have been senselessly cruel, spewing hatred online about his mental health or even going as far as suggesting that he deserves it. Marc swallows the bile in the back of his throat, unwilling to break now. He knows he can’t let the public see his defences crumble, it will only give them more opportunity to kick him when he’s down. He’s so wrapped up in his thoughts that he doesn’t notice who they’re walking towards, until it’s too late.

Marc hears Valentino before he sees him, talking to Pecco in hushed tones. His rapid-fire Italian is so familiar, yet also a distant memory. He feels the way his companion stiffens as they approach the pair and senses their eyes burning into him in return. No doubt Pecco has already told the older all about Marc’s breakdown yesterday. The reminder that Valentino is once more witnessing his life falling apart is nauseating. Marc steadfastly ignores them as Dovi steers them in the right direction. A confrontation is not what he needs right now.

He doesn’t register anything is off until someone careens straight into their path, sending Marc stumbling backwards in shock. He flinches at the look of pure hatred on the fan’s face.

“You should have done it properly; you couldn’t even kill yourself correctly. The world would be a better place without you.”

Marc chokes on his breath, his eyes burning, rapidly blinking as he tries to parse the scathing words. Dovi is frozen in shock, horrified that anyone would utter such a thing. Time freezes as the people close enough to have overheard all turn to look in their direction, willing a response from Marc. Ironically, it’s Pecco who breaks the moment, face like thunder as he storms over. Marc watches in a haze as Pecco reaches them, breathing heavily and shooting a look at Dovi, prompting him to drag the Spaniard to safety. Marc distantly registers Valentino frowning over at them, a flash of unreadable emotion in his eyes as he watches Dovi tugging him away.

Marc doesn’t look back, mind too preoccupied with the stewing self-loathing in his gut and the cloud of dark thoughts in his head. As such, he doesn’t see Pecco looming over the man who spat such vicious words at him, gesturing at security for him to be removed and permanently banned. He doesn’t see the older Italian glaring at Marc and Dovi’s retreating forms, a mixture of resentment and jealousy staining his features. He does, however, hear Valentino whispering that it’s not worth it, leading a distraught Pecco away, cracking Marc’s heart clean in two, once again.

[swagglessmoth]

Badly made comic of And So The Moon Wept bc it just finished and I’m devastated

‼️CHAPTER 15 SPOILERS‼️

I wanted to make one more page between the second and third bc pacing, but I didn’t wanna rethink all three of those pages’ compositions. It’s pretty ass bc it’s all sketches, but the last ones came out pretty decent I think👍

(Don’t look at the house too closely, I really didn’t wanna look at a reference so I just freestyled it)

Scrapped versions bc idk

Now that that’s out the way, I’ll start with the ranting, you can leave now this is for me

THE ENDING⁉️ DAMN⁉️⁉️⁉️

I would start rereading immediately to see all the details and analyze the psychology of the ‘tsukuyomi world’ characters BUT I unfortunately have my global exams next week 🥲

Warning for -1000 media literacy‼️ while writing all this I remembered that my memory is bad an my analytical skills are even worse! So be warned :p

BUT ANYWAY!! This was a top tear fanfic, seriously at no point did I consider the infinite tsukuyomi as a possibility. And I think this has to do with the fact that the psychology and individual lives of the characters in this dream were so well developed. There’s so many POVs! And they’re so complex and detailed!! Really makes you wonder if this was really the tsukuyomi or if Kakashi’s consciousness was sent to a different world all together. Which is what makes it so terribly tragic. Kakashi lived so many years in this perfect world just to regain all his memories and find out that it really was all fake, a world made up entirely of his own fantasies.

Oh and what a fantasy it was, getting hit by that boulder and fucking dying! The only reason he got to live was bc of ‘Hound’ (which could be interpreted as his consciousness telling him to wake tf up). Everything felt so wrong to Kakashi not because he noticed this things weren’t right, but bc he was never meant to live in this world. This was the prefect reality for everyone around him, his dream, a world without him (FUCK BRO💔💔💔💔). Which is the reason why I think the characters are so three dimensional in this dream, maybe, idk bro I just made this up.

But even then, things don’t exactly add up (if you think about it they do BUT SHHHHHH LET ME DREAM). Why did some characters suffer so much if this was meant to be a better world for everyone else? Why did Rin’s parent’s die? Why did Sakumo try suicide so many times?

We know Rin’s and Obito’s relationship started declining when Rin didn’t believe Obito when he swore up and down that Kakashi was somehow alive (which IS Hound’s fault in a way, he saved Kakashi and that’s why Obito saw Kakashi sinking into the ground, making him believe that Kakashi didn’t die), but it goes farther than that. Rin’s real problem with Obito was that he was so stuck on his dead teammate that he neglected the rest of his living team, Kakashi was literally everything he thought about to the point it started negatively affecting others (which, yeah him being obsessed is pretty normal considering that Kakashi was part of the reason he activated his sharingan and THE reason he activated the Mangekyo). So what did he do? Go hang out with the one other person who would ALSO only think of Kakashi all day, Sakumo. Obito eventually accepted that Kakashi was dead, but he and Rin never reconnected.

Was this really the perfect ending for them? Come on tsukuyomi, you’re more creative than that.

For some reason I think that the tsukuyomi was freestyling all this. Bc (by my interpretation) the point of Kakashi’s dream was that he died at Kannabi Bridge instead of Obito, period. The rest is extra stuff bc their lives have to go on ig? Or maybe the infinite tsukuyomi is really big brained and depicted a realistic depiction of 🖐️🖐️🖐️HOLD THE FUCK UP I’M DUMB I JUST FIGURED SMTH OUT

Bro this is why I need to reread this instead of talking to myself when I don’t remember half the details in the fic.

OK SO HOUND DID FUCK SHIT UP🔥🔥🔥

I was trying to think why Sakumo would be alive (if my shit theory above was true, which it isn’t but I’m not deleting all that) AND IT WAS BC SAKUMO NOT KILLING HIMSELF IS HIS PERFECT WORLD 😭😭😭😭. The one thing I’m not so sure ab is Kannabi (I bet if I keep writing this I’ll find the answer) bc Obito WAS gonna get hit by that rock, but hey, he entered the dream after the Obito reveal so maybe his consciousness already knew he would survive, so maybe he’d just appear later in the dream idk. BUT BRO 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 WAS HE ACTUALLY SUPPOSED TO COME BACK HOME TO HIS DAD??? AND THEN HIS CONSCIOUSNESS KICKED IN AND HE SAVED OBITO INSTEAD??!!,.. oh I’m sick, this is so evil

That would literally make everything make sense. He derailed the dream so bad that it fucked everything up, making it no longer a perfect world but more similar to reality. If he really was supposed to die, then why did his death have such negative repercussions on everyone he loves? It that was his dream, wouldn’t it be a better world with everybody happy? He wasn’t supposed to die at Kannabi but Hound appeared and saved Obito from a rock, causing a massive butterfly effect.

Pretty romantic if you asked me, “I would leave behind my perfect world just to save you form getting hurt” like damn, it’s not like he remembered that Obito survived at this point in time, but still STOPP I’M DOING IT AGAIN I’M FOCUSING ON THE DETAILS AND NOT THE BIGGER PICTURE AAAA

El cazador de elefantes by Def Con Dos is a pretty good song, hm

Where was I going with this? Don’t remember tbh

This is kinda long, I’m stopping here. Bye internet void ✌️

[envy-of-the-apple]

Hello, first of all HAPPY BIRTHDAY !!! I hope you had a happy birthday today !

I recently read your recent fic (The Sun eats the Moon) and the writting was amazing. But I have some question in my mind like :

"After that maybe 'Reader' could take contraception in secret, no ?"

"Is she (or they) gonna end up married to him, and forced to be a housewife or just following him where he goes ?" honestly I think her destiny is tragic no matter the result.

"How did he react to her disappearance, did he tried to find her (honestly my question was why he didn't ask her parents or search where did she goes, but honestly its a good thing that he didn't search) ? And during 10 years, how was to him ?" Maybe the only thing we can say "good" about him is he will only looking toward her and not any women after THAT day...?

And last question, I was wondering what will happen to them after THAT day like I know fr that in the media there will be news, but honestly I think the conclusion is well writting, the fact you first introduce the concept about the Moon and conclued with the detailed about the Moon and how tragic the ending is for them (Moon and 'Reader'). And if you are going to a Geto's it's will also be interesting because he was there to.

Sorry for the long message (eng isn't my first language) and thanks you to read that ! Have a nice day or night !

Thank you!!!!!!All great great great questions! I'll try to answer them as best as I can before giving tooo much away lol:

Why cant Ms.Moon take contraception?

yes Ms.Moon (that's my nickname for the mc now lol) could definitely try to take contraception in secret but I don't think it'll be a good ending if Gojo finds out. In the comments of the fic, many ppl were pointing out that Gojo was intentionally trying to get Ms. Moon pregnant back when they were "dating" buuuut it was sort of an afterthought for him. His logic was 'oh well it doesn't matter either way. you're staying with me regardless' but now that he's seen that Ms.Moon is 100% willing to leave him his next course of action is 'k well can't do that if you have a kid'. It's really not about Ms.Moon having a baby, rather it's insurance that bestie won't just dip again. He cares about you more than any kid you'd make together (awww thats so....sweet???)

Will Gojo force Ms.Moon to get married?

Probably, he's a romantic at heart teehee. But also he loves the attention. Part of the reason he was so effective in "keeping" Ms.Moon (in high school) was largely due to public pressure. Now, where he's basically a celebrity, his obsession with the spotlight has only increased. He's gonna be on talk shows and never shy about your relationship to the press. Gojo will definitely describe your relationship as 'newly reunited highschool sweethearts'. People at work will definitely bombard you for the details, and you were never one to be defiant so you'd probably just mutely agree with him (that's why he loves you so much: you're so agreeable). He'd make sure your wedding is the biggest celebration of the year. And then he'd drag you to Aruba or something for yalls honeymoon:)

Why didn't Gojo try to find Ms. Moon?

He did! When you dipped (graduated early and left for college) he went ballistic. I totally forgot to add this in, but Gojo is a huge reason why Ms.Moon doesn't talk to family anymore/anyone in that town. You didn't even tell your parents what college you were headed off to. I bet Gojo harrassed your family for a bit, because he's Gojo Satoru, but when it's clear you just disappeared I bet he was depressed. As terrible as he was, he did love you. It was also a pride thing for him. No one's ever 'won' against him, and you technically did. He'd greatly underestimated you and you got away. I bet he'd be a little impressed at that. I think in the fic it was greatly implied that he was searching for you buuuut eventually he forgot because he got so busy with his life. He still thought about you, but its was probably more along the lines of 'damn, can't believe i lost that bitch' And then you unceremoniously fell from the sky. Surprising, but he's grateful. It was fate to meet you again or was it? *cackles in omniscient author*

The Aftermath

Yeah, you're not living a normal life after that ever again. You're moving in with him, he's getting that marriage certificate ready bye bye freedom. I don't think he'd lock you up, buuuut having a security detail on you at all times, putting a tracker in your phone, and constantly calling/texting you is pretty close to life in prison right? EVENTUALLY, he'd limit your social network, then not-so-gently encourage you to quit your job. By the end of it, you'll be his little housewife but I think he'd be nice about it. (kind of)