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cleoluvrr · 7 months

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high school sweethearts (rafe cameron x reader) III

these are the requirements, if you think you can be my one true love

WARNINGS: mature content; dark!rafe, dub!con, corporal punishment, domestic violence, substance abuse & addiction, controlling behavior, coercion, manipulative behavior, stalking, toxic relationship, attempted suicide, kook!reader

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in spite of your refusal, rafe decided that the two of you were going shopping. it was the last thing you wanted to do, but rafe had an obsession with showing you off to everyone who had working eyes.

ironically, he didn’t hate when men looked at you–at least not while he was around. he loved it. he got a rush from watching other guys ogle you and know they could never have you. you hated public affection, but he loved to kiss you or walk around with his hand dangerously low on your back wherever you went just for wandering eyes.

fancy dinners, midsummers, the country club, charity events; anything that he got parade you around like a prized showhorse. you were sure rafe only took you to those things just to rub it in his father’s face. the child with a reputation of being a drug dealing deadbeat had a smart, well-mannered, soft-spoken girl hanging off his arm everywhere he went. one with reputable parents and was pursuing a college education. it made ward red in the face to know that someone like you was committed to his son, and it made your boyfriend feel overjoyed.

today was no different–not at first.

the last place you wanted to be was in a shopping center filled with rich kids and tourons, but rafe insisted that he wanted to buy you new clothes for the rapidly cooling weather. fall was in full swing and he refused to have his girlfriend walking around town in out-of-season fashion. it made no sense to you; rafe never cared about fashion being in or out of season, but you didn’t feel like putting up a fight.

the exhaustion of pulling your clothes on and off repeatedly was starting to overcome you. your skin was sticky and itchy from the hot fitting rooms, your feet were aching from the mary janes squeezing against your toes, and all the noise was overstimulating you.

usually, you wouldn’t complain. you would just suck it up until rafe decided to take pity on you and bring you home with pounds worth of shopping bags that you didn’t even want in the first place. it was just something you had to do and there was no use in fighting him on it.

this time, however, you weren’t in any mood to be pulled around by rafe beneath the fluorescent, sterile lights of a crowded mall.

after the second hour you began huffing and dragging your feet. you were sure rafe noticed, but he said nothing; you were still going along with it enough for him to leave it alone. it was hour three that you actually began to put up noticeable resistance. still he said nothing.

you hoped that your incessant whining would annoy him enough to take you home, but it was of no assistance.

your shoes clicked against the linoleum floor loudly as you stomped behind your boyfriend, jaw clenched and lips jutted out in a glossy pout. rafe’s fingers laced through yours as he led you around, paying no mind to your silent tantrum. you exhaled again, feet planting firmly into the ground as you tugged your hand away from him.

that was what made the blonde finally turn back to face you.

“i wanna go home, rafe.” you folded your arms across your chest as you said it, eyes wide and glaring up at your boyfriend just a few steps away.

he rolled his eyes in response, tongue in cheek. he was clearly annoyed, but you continued pushing anyway.

“we can leave soon, baby.” he reaches for your hand again but you step back to avoid his grasp. a pair of blue eyes squint at you in reaction to your act of defiance.

“don’t ‘baby’ me.” you snipped at him. “i wanna leave now, rafe. i’m tired–i didn’t even want to come here in the first place.”

he reaches for you again silently, his silent response only managing to irritate you further. you smacked his hand away before it landed on your waist.

“don’t fucking touch me!” a few people nearby turned their heads in your direction, your raised volume capturing the attention of passerbyers. “you’re not even listening! i just said i wanna go home now, we’ve been here long enough and i’m fucking irritated.”

rafe hardly seemed moved by your outburst, but his calmness was deceiving to the average onlooker. looking down at the hand you smacked away, his head slowly raised to meet your eyes with a look that had you struggling to collect saliva to wet your dry mouth.

the two of you held the tense contact for what felt like an eternity but couldn’t have lasted more than a few seconds. nodding at you, he moved to walk in the opposite direction towards the mall’s entrance. his strong hand snatched you into his hold as he passed by you, long legs leaving you stumbling behind him as he stalked through the center.

rafe’s anger was radiating off of him in waves, so strong that anyone passing by could feel the heat filling the air. he never looked back at you once, but you felt as if he had a second pair of eyes in the back of his head that left your skin boiling.

though his demeanor was calm, the bone-crushing grip he held on your hand as he dragged you through the mall was enough to know you were in for it.

you, on the other hand, couldn’t help the chill that ran through every layer of your being. it was hard to tell if your heart had stopped beating completely, or if it was beating so fast that you couldn’t differentiate each thump of it against your chest. your mouth had gone completely dry and the irritation that once filled you was now replaced with a heavy cloak of dread.

reaching his dark colored truck, rafe opened the back door to place the shopping back in the back seat before slamming it shut. the harsh sound made you flinch but rafe paid it no mind as he dragged you to the passenger’s side. your lips were tucked into your mouth tightly as you eyed him warily, the blond man tugging at the handle to reveal your seat in the car.

the drive to his house was as uncomfortable as you thought it would be. he didn’t turn the radio on like usual, forcing you to sit in silence as you traveled to your destination. it was five minutes in that you realized you weren’t going to your own house like you requested. the realization made your stomach drop. you knew that it meant nothing good was going to happen once you stepped out of the car.

the driveway was empty when the two of you arrived at tannyhill, neither rose or ward anywhere in sight as you approached the large estate.

your footsteps were light and hesitant as you trailed behind your boyfriend, shoes barely making a sound as they landed against the old floors of his family’s house. the feeling of dread intensified the closer you got to rafe’s bedroom. you weren't sure what would happen and the feeling of unknowing unsettled your stomach.

“y’know…” rafe finally broke the silence between you two as his bedroom door clicked shut. “i do so much for you.”

sitting the shopping bags down in the corner, rafe takes slow steps towards your frozen figure. you sniffed nervously and cleared your throat in response. he places a warm hand on your face when he reaches you, the soft gesture not matching the fire in his eyes.

“i do so much for you. all i ask you to do for me…is show some respect.” his pink tongue pokes out the side of his mouth to wet his lips before retreating. “isn’t that right?”

“yeah…” the single word came out just as wobbly as you felt. he nodded at you, eyes flickering down to your bobbing throat as you swallowed dryly.

“‘yeah…’” he mocked your unstable voice. “so–tell me why you think it's okay to talk to me like that? is it ‘cause you don’t respect me?”

you shook your head against the palm he held against your warm cheeks. his gaze was unrelenting and you felt like you were gonna be sick.

rafe already had you on thin ice from going to the cut last week. he was still mad about you blatantly ignoring his request, and this was only another stroke of a hammer to a frozen lake. he hated feeling like you were questioning his authority, but it felt ridiculous to you that your boyfriend thought he had any authority over you as a grown woman. that never mattered to him though; what he says is law in his eyes and if you disobeyed that then you had to deal with the consequences.

cursing at him in public had to be one of the dumbest things on planet earth, but your overstimulated mind couldn’t handle thinking about what could possibly happen. it didn’t quite dawn on you until he started dragging you through the mall, but by then it was too late to fix it.

he had a short fuse and you’d lit it with your thoughtless actions.

“i was just tired, rafe, that’s all.” you pouted up at him in hopes that he’d feel some sympathy for you rather than whatever had his bright blue eyes turn a dark shade of navy. “i didn’t mean to disrespect you. i just wasn’t thinking and it came out mean, i’m sorry…”

“you wouldn’t have to apologize all the time if you just…started thinking, huh?” his hand retracted from your face just a couple inches before reconnecting harshly. his palm stung against your skin, not enough to leave a mark but enough to serve as a warning. “fucking answer me.”

“no, i wouldn’t. you’re right,” the warm tingling of your cheek let you know there was no pouting your way out of this. “i was being dumb. i’ll do better, rafey, i promise…”

manipulation was wrong, but what choice did you really have? despite rafe being quick to anger, his soft spot for you was a weakness you’ve learned to use to your advantage over the years.

when you looked up at him with pitiful, teary eyes and used that cute nickname for him in that little voice that pulled at his heartstrings, how could he stay mad at you? how could he reprimand you when you were being so sweet, so docile?

you knew very well that he was wrapped around your finger even if he did have the upperhand in the relationship, and you would absolutely play on that when you needed to.

like right now.

“baby…” rafe sighed at your wet eyes, demeanor softening at the sight. he thumbs over the skin of your cheek where he struck just you moments earlier in a soothing manner.

looking down towards the floor you begin picking at your nails, the glossy french tips occupying your line of sight instead. it was something you always did when you were nervous, but this time it was only for show.

“i’m really sorry.” if rafe were so close he wouldnt have heard the words leave your mouth. you prayed to whatever deity was watching over you to let the act work; rafe’s punishments were nothing you wanted to be on the receiving end of at the moment.

rafe exhales again before removing his hand from your face. pulling you into his chest, he leans down to place a kiss to the top of your head amidst your embrace. if it wouldn’t completely jeopardize the situation you’d jump for joy. you melt into his arms, your own limbs moving to wrap around his lean torso. his hand reaches up to stroke over your head sweetly as he speaks into your scalp.

“go lie on the bed.”

you tilted your head up at him in confusion. his softened eyes started down at you expectantly before glancing pointedly at the bed a few feet away. your feet carried you to the frame hesitantly, brows coming together as you pulled yourself up on the mattress. you’d barely settled before rafe was right there with you, his soft lips capturing yours in an embrace.

a sound of surprise on your end was swallowed by your boyfriend as he kept your lips connected. his hand came up to cup your jaw, using his thumb to pull your chin down and give him access to the pink of your mouth. you felt his tongue roll over yours gently a few times, the wet sound of saliva mixing filling your ears.

there was nothing rough about it. even when he nipped at the flesh of your puffy bottom lip, he would take it in between his own and take away the sting of it. his air mingled with yours, and the taste of him almost distracted you from what got you here in the first place. he was good at that–distracting you.

so good, that you don’t notice the sneaky hand traveling between your bodies.

you jolt when a pair of fingers lands between your legs, ones that were not your own, and traces over the thin fabric of your underwear. rafe stopped you from pulling away, the hand on your chin moving to the back of your head to keep you in place. it was hard to focus on reciprocating the kiss when you were trying to stop yourself from pushing your hips up into his slow moving hand.

the feeling of him ghosting over your panties had you whining involuntarily, face heating up with embarrassment after the sound escaped your dry throat. rafe pulled away at the noise, a small smile grazing his lips as he watched you from above. you didn’t even notice that you were grinding into his barely there fingers, desperate for him to give you something more. it had been weeks since you touched yourself, and the last time rafe touched you was before you tried to break up with him.

“you’re so cute…” rafe spoke softly against your parted lips. a breathy chuckle escaped him when you frowned at him frustratedly. “stop pouting, it’s not gonna make me go any faster.”

despite him saying that, you feel him apply more pressure to your now pulsating clit. the friction of the fabric separating his fingers from your bare skin felt good, but not good enough to satisfy you for long. he stroked you from the bottom of your clothed slit all the way to the very top of your pussy before traveling back down and repeating the action.

the slow, tantalizing circles around your attention–seeking bud made you feel just as miserable as you felt desperate for him to continue.

rafe’s eyes scanned every inch of your face; the way you trapped your lip between your teeth to keep yourself quiet, the way your big, glossy eyes stared up at him, how your breath hitches when he applied the smallest amount of pressure. there was no hiding anything from him, not when both of you could feel the arousal leaking through the thin, pink fabric that kept your modesty.

he chuckled breathily when you brought a hand down to meet his wrist. you were sure if you wanted to push him away or pull him in closer.

“what is it, baby?” rafe asks curiously. he raises a dark blond brow at the soft whine that slips from your mouth, the answer not satisfactory enough for him. “know how to cuss me out, right? your mouth works just fine–use it.”

you blinked at him slowly, the snippy response on the tip of your tongue being forced down with the saliva gathering beneath the pink muscle.

“can you…” the words were shaky as they left you, partially due to the teasing fingers spreading your wetness through your underwear. “c-can you touch me…please?”

rafe never made you ask him for anything. he always knew what you wanted, and he was more than willing to give it to you. you were a shy person and that timidity didn’t suddenly disappear when you two started being intimate with each other. it was hard for you to open up to him in that way, and he always made sure that you felt comfortable with him.

if he asked what you wanted, it was normally just teasing. he never really expected an answer and your mousy whimpers were enough for him to keep going. this was not something you were prepared for.

the blonde tilted his head to the side, feigning confusion. the way his digits were pressing into your entrance over the material made your lips part to allow a puff of air to escape.

“touch you?” he said. briefly his eyes flicker down to the hand between your legs being hidden by the fabric of your skirt before returning to meet your eyes. “am i not touching you?”

“but–i…” he was touching you, so you couldn’t argue against that, but he knew that wasn’t what you meant. “you are but th-that’s not...i mean really touch me.”

“but i am ‘really’ touching you?” you pouted at him, eyes straining as you tried your hardest to prevent them from rolling. “you want more?”

rafe made no moves to oblige to your request when you started nodding your head frantically. instead he squinted at you, blue eyes burning against your skin fueled by his irritation.

“y’know, you’re being kinda…ungrateful, don’t ya’ think?” his tongue sneaks out to moisten his pursed lips. “i’m being so nice and you aren’t even thanking me?”

the hand not occupying the space between your legs travels to take place on your face, his strong fingers pushing in on your cheeks to squish them together roughly. you could feel the pads of the digits digging into the hardness of your teeth and it made you wince from the pain.

his fingers hook beneath the fabric of your panties and move them to the side. the cool air blowing against your newly bare skin was barely noticeable when all of your focus was on your boyfriend sliding through your slick folds. rafe’s face remained stoic even when you released a borderline pornographic moan from the sudden skin to skin contact, his grip on your face preventing you from hiding the sounds of pleasure.

he’d barely touched you and you were practically leaking; it was embarrassing. it’d been forever since you felt relief and he could tell, especially when the sticky mess was all over his fingers. you wanted so badly for them to sink inside and graze against your sensitive, gummy walls, but they never went any deeper than grazing against the entrance.

“i know what m’girl wants, what she needs–” rafe’s voice is soft but he looks the very opposite. the one-eighty almost gave you whiplash; he was being so sweet just a few minutes ago and now he looks just as agitated as he did on the ride home. “i know what you want, baby, i promise…”

you have to force yourself to not chase after his retreating hand with your hips. the loss of contact brings your mind out of its fuzzy, dazed state, bare pussy exposed to the blasting air-conditioning.

his thick digits are glistening in the light and covered in your arousal, strings of the sticky substance connecting his fingers together as he examines them in front of your face. with the hand on your face he forces your mouth to open wider, the flavor of your excitement coated the pinkness of your tongue. the sudden intrusion makes your mouth water reflexively and a sound of protest makes its way out.

“but what you need, is to learn how to be fucking grateful for what i give you.” rafe drags his fingers in and out of the moist coven of your mouth, making sure to thoroughly cover your tongue in the slick that was collected on his fingers. “you should be grateful that i even touched you at all instead of shoving my cock in that nasty fucking mouth.”

you almost gasped at the vulgar language but it was interrupted by his fingers shoving themselves deep into your throat. he was unmoved by your gagging, his face getting so close to yours that your noses touched. you could feel stray tears starting to run down your face and leave wet trails in their wake.

watching as he gathers a pool of saliva in his cheeks, you could do nothing to stop him from allowing it to fall into yours. you feel it land in the back of your throat where his fingers were and flinch. the taste of him joins your pre-release in being fucked down your clenching throat by his fingers, your incessant coughing and gagging no deterrent to him.

in fact, he finds some joy in it. he chuckles at the sound of your struggling, eyes focused on the wet mess created by your mouth.

“but you don’t even deserve that…my dick is too good for you. filthy ass mouth needs to be cleaned before i’d ever give it to you. ” his blonde locks fall in his eyes as he shakes his head in disapproval. “you know what–get the fuck up.”

pulling his fingers out of your mouth completely and releasing your face, he snatches you up to your feet. he drags you to his bathroom, one of his hands flicking on the lights while the other digs into the flesh of your bicep.

you watch as he opens the medicine cabinet above the sink and slams it back shut, a white box visible in his hand from the mirror. he releases you for a moment to rip the packing open and reveal a brand new bar of soap. a state of paralysis overtook you from where you stood, eyes following him silently as he cut on the faucet. his gaze is fixated on you through the reflection of the mirror as he allows the bar of soap to foam up underneath the water.

rafe pulls you close, not giving you any chance to escape as he traps you against the bathroom counter with his back against your chest.

“open your mouth.” he says sternly. when you don’t follow instructions, his free hand reaches up to force your jaw open. “i said open your mouth!”

the bitter taste of dial disturbs you, the oval shaped bar scraping against your teeth as it’s shoved into your mouth. a muffled sound of rejection is silenced by the soap occupying all of your senses. you watch in the mirror as rafe holds both you and the foamy bar in place.

“‘i just wasn’t thinking, rafey, i’m sorry.’” the mocking words were a repeat of what you said earlier. “yeah, you are sorry–but i bet you’ll start thinking now.”

it felt like an eternity that he held the bar between your lips. when he finally pulled it away, you immediately leaned forward to spit out the substance. rafe was quicker than you, though, his large hand smacking against your lips to prevent you from ridding your mouth of the residue. your hand flew up to his wrist in an attempt to remove it but he doesn’t budge, his palm firm in its placement.

“no, you’re gonna keep it in that dirty fuckin’ mouth.” his voice was harsh in your ear, more annoyed than empathetic towards your desperate squirming. “you think some tears are gonna save your ass? not this time, baby…bet you’ll remember to watch how you talk to me, huh?”

nodding frantically, you plead with your eyes in the reflective glass before you. it was getting hard not to swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth and you weren’t sure how much longer you could handle the harsh taste of filmy, anti-bacterial suds.

you filled your mouth with handfuls of water as soon as he released you. no matter how many times you brought the liquid to your lips to rinse the residue away, it was all you could taste. rafe remained stiff at your back, the heat of his body radiating against yours as he observed you judgmentally.

“remember how that shit tasted before you ever talk to me like that again, alright?” rafe all but spits the words out at your hunched frame over the faucet. “next time…i won’t be so nice.”

you glance up into the mirror and follow his back as he exits the bathroom. straightening up to your full height you’re met with the disheveled state of your reflection, dry tear stains over your cheeks and chapped lips left behind to show for the mercilessness of your boyfriend. the counter beneath fell victim to the crushing pressure of your fingers as your knuckles strained from the tightness of your grip.

sniffling, your tongue lolled over your chapped lips to moisten them before retreating back to its place. your throat bobbed as you forced the saliva down your throat, the sound of your gulping audible in the silent bathroom. you could hear rafe was shuffling around the bedroom a few feet away, footsteps traveling back and forth as he went through the shopping bags to presumably separate his stuff from yours.

rafe hadn’t done something like that in…in forever.

the last–and only–time it happened was because you called him out of his name. you could suddenly remember the taste of lavender scented hand soap being scrubbed across your tongue by his angry fingers as he cleaned the words out of your mouth. the way your stomach turned when you would accidentally swallow the liquid every time he pushed too far down your throat. how he treated you like a petulant, misbehaving child deserving of corporal fucking punishment like it was the 1950’s.

you’d nearly forgotten that even took place–maybe because your brain decided it was a memory that had to be blocked out in order for you to stay with rafe after it occurred. you wish it had remained at the forefront of your mind so you wouldn't end up in the position again.

splashing water onto your tearstained face, you wipe away the mess before warily joining rafe in the bedroom on the other side of the doorframe. the end of the mattress was occupied by his body, the back of his head being the first thing you see.

“come here.” his voice was softer than it was earlier but it still startled you, heart beating through your chest as he beckoned you towards him.

you were suddenly reminded of the wetness between your thighs as you approached him. the way your folds slid against each other beneath your ruined underwear as you took hesitant steps in his direction. it made you feel dirty–even after being gagged with a bar of soap.

pulling you between his legs, rafe rests his arms around your waist as you stand before him. he stares up at you apologetically, almost, eyes soft and bright as he toys with the hem of your sweater. your arms hung awkwardly by your sides, stiff and unsure of where to go.

“you know i just want you to do better right?” he asks. “i’m going to marry you one day, y/n, and my wife can’t talk to me like that…especially not in public. you understand why i had to do that right?”

you say nothing. it feels as if you’re on autopilot the way your head nods, the movement almost a reflex you’d learned just to appease him.

“i can’t keep letting it slide anymore, baby. you’ll just keep doing it and i can’t let everyone think i’m–i’m a pushover…’cause i’m not. i don’t want people thinking i can’t handle my girl–you get that, right?” he nodded his head and you followed his movements, still on autopilot. “you help me be better too, y’know…i just wanna do the same for you, okay?

“okay.” the single word came out so softly you weren’t sure if he heard it. your hands came together to pick at your nails, the slightly grown-out french tips falling victim to the nervous habit.

rafe unwrapped his arms from around your waist and pulled your hands apart as he took them into his own. the warmth of his palms thawed out your freezing fingers, blood rushing back into the tips. his lips ghosted over your knuckles as he blew hot air over them and rubbed the coldness out of them. your body had focused on keeping your organs warm over your extremities, poor blood-circulation a symptom of the persistent anemia you just couldn’t seem to get rid of.

“i love you so much that…th-that i don’t even know how….” he stumbles over his words. his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, collecting his thoughts before speaking again. “i do what i do because i love you, not because i wanna hurt you. i’d never do anything to hurt you on purpose, so don’t ever think that…okay? do you understand?”

you believed him, even though it was the last thing you wanted to do.

truly, you believed he didn’t do anything to hurt you. you knew that he never really had any bad intentions with his actions. rafe was irrational, short tempered, and had never seen what a healthy romantic relationship looked like in his life.

even with all of his flaws, has never hurt you just for the fun of it. he was mean sometimes, sure, but he was like that with everyone. actually hurting you has never been on his agenda, which is probably why you allowed yourself to stick around so long before. however, most of the things he did were reactionary to losing control. it was one of the few things he lacked in his life and he hated when the little he had was taken away from him.

you were, quite frankly, the only stable thing he had.

if anything were to threaten that stability he would lose his mind. he would do whatever it takes to eliminate that threat; even you. he couldn’t lose you, not when you were all he had. his dad treated him like a disgrace, sarah barely liked him, and sure he had friends–but if he didn’t have money or status, would they stay with him?

you’d seen rafe at his absolute worst, but you never left. when he barely treated you like a human you stuck around because you saw something in him that no one else did. he knew that even if he left, you’d still take him in with open arms and love every part of him. you understood him in a way nobody else could, and he so desperately needed that.

violence and wealth is what his father uses to maintain control over him and everyone else, so that’s all rafe knows how to do. that’s what he was taught, and it’s hard to unlearn when it works so well.

you’ve seen the things he has done to other people that have crossed him, and though he loved you to the ends of the earth, he would have no problem doing the same thing to you. he made good on his threats to the people that have done him wrong. you knew this first hand because it was you that washed the blood of his hands and bandaged his knuckles. you’d seen the dents in his golf clubs and the scratches in the paint of his car that looked an awful lot like fingernails. you never question it because getting involved in the world of drug dealing rich kids isn’t something on your list of priorities, but you were well aware of what he did to people.

he knew scaring you would keep you around, so that’s what he does. keeps you in a constant state of fear. even if it meant giving you a mouthful of soap.

“i understand.” you dropped your chin lower to look him directly in the eye. his long lashes brushed over the tops of his cheeks as his eyes fluttered open and shut. “i know you’d never hurt me on purpose, so don’t worry about that. i love you…and i’m sorry.”

rafe sighed heavily–out of relief or exhaustion? you weren’t sure.

opening up your hand to reveal your palm, you watched as he brought it close to his face to place gentle kisses over the skin. you felt him press his lips against each section of your hand from the bottom to the top, no area left untouched. turning it over, he repeats his previous actions. each knuckle on your right hand is left tingling by the pink, pillowy flesh.

“you’re so perfect for me…my perfect girl.” he whispers loud enough for you to hear, eyes opening up to stare back into your watchful gaze above him. “you’re gonna be my perfect wife, too; i know it. gonna put a ring on this finger right here–”

taking a hold of your forefinger, he places a kiss there in the same manner he did your other fingers. he keeps his lips there longer; the intimate action makes your stomach do a flip and your heart swell. you’d felt so many emotions today that you wanted nothing more than to turn your brain off–but he made it so impossible.

“and make you mine forever.” rafe finishes the sentence after pulling away. he laces his fingers into yours and pulls you in with his freehand on your lower back. “everyone’s gonna be so jealous because they can never have you–could never be you.”

even though it killed you to admit it; you wanted it just as much as he did. well, probably not as much–but you’d be lying to yourself if you said you couldn’t see yourself with him forever. the idea of him putting a ring on your finger put a smile on your face even when you tried your hardest to suppress it.

fear wasn’t the only thing keeping you around.

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archivalofsins · 4 months

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Lope:Ah, yeah- our recording devices still seem to be picking up noise from all facilities properly, our temporary one included. So, the prisoners are being recorded as they should be. I heard one facility had sprinkler issues? We're lucky that didn't damage any equipment but- Huh, management really should stop sending cottontails to do a hare’s job. Well at least everything’s still good- Oh, they've been up for a minute now haven't they? I'm late and the profiles weren't up in time. Stop the complaining. I did say I'd be testing things on top of running this Milgram. The transcripts of what has transpired will be up later.

Lope's Commencement

Daniel Prisoner 001

Mirelle Prisoner 002

Zareth Prisoner 003

Afra Prisoner 004

005 - Nell Newell

Place of Birth: Winona, Minnesota

Date of Birth: 11/11/2011

Age: 12

Ethnicity: African American/Caucasian

This one’s a bit of a strange case. He’s very relaxed in these circumstances and walks around as if this place were his own house. I haven’t really figured out what gets to them yet. He mentioned something about some time offline doing him some good. A decent cook for someone that age. His mannerisms make him come off like an old man. Maybe he was raised by older people. That sometimes happens, doesn’t it? Might have picked up the mannerisms from them.

Prisoner Color: #757D42

Permanent Record

Nell has perfect grades with 4.0 GPA. However, his attitude is rather perplexing for a child of his age. He complains about leg pain, the school chairs being uncomfortable on his back and the teacher writing too small on the board. His vision and physical health are good. We don’t understand why he’s behaving this way. We thought he was joking at the beginning of the year, but it’s persisted.

We assumed he had grandparents he was imitating but his mother says his grandparents passed away before he was born. It’s not as though it’s a large issue but it certainly isolates him from his peers. It is recommended that communication counseling continue for the rest of his middle school years until we’re able to help him out of this period he seems set in.

Nell: …

Worker: Hm? Are you- Perhaps interested in volunteering?

Nell: Yes. I would like to if that’s okay.

Worker: Oh, that’s perfect I’m sure they’ll love you! I never thought a kid your age would be interested in things like this.

Nell: …

To the Newells,

Nell has been a great help! He seems to be enjoying his time volunteering greatly. Thank you for giving him your permission to volunteer his time after school.

Sincerely,

XXXXX

Ms.Newell: Where have you been all this time.

Nell: Library. I walk over to it after school closes.

Ms.Newell: You know when you answer so quickly and in depth like that it comes off like a practiced response.

Nell: . . .

Ms.Newell: They still haven’t taught you how to speak in natural way at that school… What point is there in me having you go there then?

Nell: Education is important. You said so.

Ms.Newell: Education can only get you so far being a decent communicator is important to. People need workers that seem personable.

Nell: I’ll work on it more.

Ms.Newell: Well if you’re good looking enough when you’re older you’ll just have to stand around and saying nothing. If you can’t be personable the next best thing to be is attractive! It’s not a full dead end so chin up.

Nell: . . . Thanks for the encouraging words.

Ms.Newell: What do we do when we thank someone?

Nell: Smile…

Ms.Newell: . . .

Nell: Thanks.

Ms.Newell: That’s better! That’s my baby boy, great job!

Missing child found sleeping in woods ten miles south of the local senior citizens center. The child was found with-

#milgram oc #gunsli's and star's oc milgram #Nell oc prisoner 005

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timemachineyeah · 1 year

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Hiya I just stumbled across your Mr Robinson post. First of all condolences, I saw that he died a few years ago. Second, I'm very much curious, what subject is he supposed to teach? I couldn't really figure it out from the stories..

So I was in the gifted program at our school

(istg if y’all start gifted kid discourse in notes I will block you! yes everyone should have access to higher quality education, no don’t invalidate other people’s trauma, and this post about my BELOVED DEAD FORMER MENTOR FIGURE WHO DIED WELL BEFORE HIS TIME IN AN ACCIDENT is not the place to talk about it! My notes are not for that discussion thank you!)

and the way the program worked, we had two teachers who taught all subjects - often in interlocking or combined ways. Like a science project that uses the math we’re learning or a history project that ties into scientific advancements of the time, etc.

Like we still had “hours” and “subjects” technically, but only sometimes did the bell ringing indicate we were changing tasks. Depending on where we were in the curriculum it might just mean we all take a five minute break and get back to it.

Our two teachers were Mrs C and Mr R. Sixth graders had Mrs C for the morning and Mr R for the afternoon. Seventh graders had the reverse. Some of the subjects they were technically responsible for switched places when we changed grades - I think C was science in sixth grade and R was in seventh - but they often worked together on kind of interlocking curriculums. So on rare occasions both grades would be together and more commonly we’d sort of make… blind tag team projects? Like our project and their project technically combined into a bigger project.

Or we’d go on lots of hikes and stuff as a group or have big group classes outside. We did lots of catching live bugs and drawing plants with Mrs C. There was a creek right near the school so we didn’t have to go far to see the local wildlife.

I think Mrs C and Mr R pioneered the program together. Our class was the last to finish it as it was run. No Child Left Behind passed in March that year. The program ended with us that June.

Mrs C and Mr R were both fighting to get the program expanded and adopted for all the classes. Like we were supposed to be the proof of concept. They cried when we graduated seventh grade. The sixth graders were all in the room knowing the fun they’d had that year would be cut in half from what it had been planned as.

Our grades were good and our education was top notch and we tested well and I don’t even think it was that much more expensive than what funding a classroom already costs - if at all.

No Child Left Behind has its clear part of the blame - the timing of when the program was canceled and when that was being pushed are obviously linked - I also think it was honestly too liberal for our community. Like, sure, we were happier, learned better, liked school more, passed our tests, etc. But we also had hard discussions about race. We also protested the administration. Good Christian children often from wealthy families were questioning authority too much. Imagine if it got to the rest?

This is just speculation on my part. But it’s not without its evidence.

My wording on the original post was unclear, so let me be clear here: Mr Robinson wasn’t lying when he said we weren’t supposed to learn world religion.

It really was a forbidden subject. We actually did have to hide it from faculty.

Now, this did also make it more fun and compelling for us. And we did treat it like a spy game. But we also knew it wasn’t a game. They could actually get in trouble. And I don’t know. Maybe they did. Or maybe whether someone complained or not, the higher ups just noticed. This program was producing smart kids, high achieving kids, sure, but it was also producing problem kids that questioned the status quo.

And there are people that that kind of education wouldn’t serve.

Anyway to answer your question he taught math, social studies, and sometimes science, but really he taught everything in tag team with Mrs C. Except gym and band.

#timemachine wuz here #mr robinson

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blood-darkened-moon · 2 years

Text

It’s All Alexander’s Fault, or Is It? – An Analysis of Alfred and Alexia’s Backstory

The Ashford twins are fascinating characters. Their whole life was such a tragedy, which left them horribly misguided. Outwardly, they appear to be somewhat strange, cruel, and ruthless, even as children. They tortured insects and used other people, including their father, for experiments. Killing people wasn’t a taboo either. Despite this, they were awkwardly close to either other. However, considering the circumstances of how they grew up, these things aren’t surprising. Most of their issues are connected to their father, Alexander Ashford, and how he treated them. The twins only existed because of Alexander’s selfishness. He never wanted children to love and care. Alexander wanted someone who made up for his mistakes and became a counterbalance to Spencer. Thus, he took the DNA of his ancestor Veronica and modified it to increase the intelligence of the clone. The sole purpose of their existence was to restore the family's glory. Only Alexia, who possessed all the desired traits, was planned. Alfred, who was above-average intelligent but still nowhere near Alexia’s level, was just a byproduct.

So here are some aspects of their lives and how Alexander may or may not have affected these.

Childhood and Youth

Alexia never complained about her early life despite how messed up it was. Even as the most intelligent human on the planet, you need to acquire knowledge through learning. Without knowledge, intelligence alone isn’t that useful. Alexia graduated from university at the age of 10. The games don’t say anything about her having a doctorate (neither do they deny it), but the position as a head researcher usually requires such a degree. So I will assume she had one. A doctorate in a scientific field takes about three years on average. It also involves doing your own research and publishing your results. Since experiments will take a while, plus you need to reproduce the results, and not everything will work out (immediately), you can’t shorten these three years too much. Furthermore, Alexia finished her thesis in 1981. Writing on a computer wasn’t a thing back then, and correcting mistakes with a typewriter meant you had to rewrite the whole page, which added to the time she needed. But let’s say Alexia was lucky, everything went well, and she only needed two years, so she was 8 when she started. Before her doctorate, Alexia must have studied at a university. Let’s be generous again and say she needed 2 to 3 years for this. This makes her 5 to 6 at the beginning, an age when children usually start going to school. She must have learned everything you learn in school before that age, which means her education started as soon as she was physically capable of it. Most likely, the first ten years of her life were learning, day in and day out, plus research later on. (Two more years in case she didn’t have a doctorate would only have a minimal effect on her education schedule. It just shifts the duration of other parts a bit.) Afterward, she became a head researcher at the Antarctica Base. Alexia now concentrated on the development of the t-Veronica virus. Additionally, this position involves staff responsibilities, for example, coordinating other researchers in the facility. Thus, 10-year-old Alexia had a full-time job, overtime included. Except for very few moments, the girl was probably never allowed to be a child or have a real childhood.

In addition to this insane schedule, we have to take Alexia’s (and Alfred’s) surroundings into account. Alexia spent her early years in the Antarctica Base, far from any civilization. The isolation served multiple purposes. First, it was easier for Alexander to hide his experiments from Spencer, who would likely be interested, considering his own projects. Second, it made it easier to manipulate the twins. Without “normal” families around as a comparison, it is less likely that they will complain about their situation. Third, Alexia won’t get distracted and can fully concentrate on learning. Going outside and playing with other children, except for Alfred, was out of the question. And where should they go in this frozen wasteland anyway? Their entire world was limited to the mansion in the lower levels and maybe the outdoor area near the base for a limited time when the weather allowed it.

While in Alfred’s case, it is more obvious how poorly he treated his children, the immense workload and pressure he put on Alexia’s shoulders showed how little Alexander cared about her as a person. Alexia was forced to grow up as fast as possible. Her worth was only determined by her performance. She was a tool to him, not his daughter. Alexander pushed her in this direction for his very own ambitions, isolating her from the world and praising her for her achievements and intellect, while he emotionally neglected Alfred (her only comparison) enough to make a somewhat average childhood look undesirable. Now, Alexia wasn’t an average child, and her intellect would likely have affected her interactions with children her age. Maybe she would have chosen a similar path at some point, even under different circumstances. But she never had a choice in this regard.

What about Alfred’s childhood? Since Alexander never expected anything from him, presumably, he had a little more from being a child than his sister. But was it good or at least better? His situation was similar to Alexia’s. He grew up in the same secluded place. His only playmates were Alexander, the domestic workers (i. a. Scott Harman, the butler), and Alexia. Alexander had other things to do than playing with the child he didn’t even care for and likely ignored his emotional needs if possible. The domestic workers may have played with him now and then. But unless Alexander hired someone specifically for this task (which I doubt), they had other work to do as well. And Alexia was busy most of the time (see above). Alfred must have spent most of his time playing alone or joined Alexia learning due to the lack of other options. This doesn’t sound great either.

Alfred’s childhood and youth didn’t last long anyway. It ended shortly before his 13th birthday. Losing his family, Alexia, in particular, impacted his mental health severely in a negative way. Though, he didn’t have enough time to deal with the consequences. At the age of 13, Alfred became the head of the Ashford family and had to take on a lot of responsibilities. Most importantly, he had to keep Alexia safe for 15 years. And this only worked because Alfred kept the family business running. He couldn’t risk Umbrella gaining more control over the Antarctica Base because then they would have found Alexia sooner or later. This wasn’t an easy task, considering his age and that he had no friends among Umbrella’s elite. Umbrella didn’t have a problem removing and replacing unwanted/uncomfortable personnel either, regardless of their status (like James Marcus later on). Despite all the obstacles and mistakes he made, Alfred managed to stay in charge of the Antarctica Base until his death in 1998. In addition, he had to take care of Rockfort Island. Alfred became mayor of this island and commander of the Umbrella facilities there. Also, at the age of 22, he graduated from a university. Taking into account that Alfred was way too young to deal with so many responsibilities and his unstable mental state, his achievements weren’t bad after all. He probably even could have restored his family's reputation without Alexia if Alexander would have been more supportive and if Alfred would have had a bit more time to grow up.

Personality

The isolation of Alfred and Alexia’s home meant very little interaction with other people. They grew up without a maternal figure. Their “mother” was a surrogate mother, who apparently only stayed as long as necessary. Alexander only focused on Alexia’s performance. And while Alexander’s servants took care of the twins’ physical needs, they couldn’t replace real parents or contact with other children. The twins never had the opportunity to develop normal social skills or healthy relationships outside their family. This left their marks on both.

Alexia started to see every single human on Earth ("the ignorant masses") as inferior to her, which fueled her world domination plans. Alexia was a genius, superior in many regards, and able to do what others couldn’t. All people in the Antarctica Base stood below her. They were either her servants or, later on, her employees. Additionally, Alexander taught his daughter that only achievements matter. All of this wouldn’t have been a problem in itself, but Alexia extrapolated her experience and what was taught to her and concluded she should rule the world since she is better than everyone else. It would have been Alexander’s duty to ground her occasionally, teach her moral values before things took a turn for the worse, and give her the opportunity to interact with people on the same level. Also, show her that people have different strengths and weaknesses and that the worth of someone cannot only be determined by their intelligence. Maybe this even would have saved his life since then Alexia could have seen more in him than a “useless father”. Working at such a young age (10-12) in a high position, like a head researcher, may have contributed as well. Your expertise doesn’t really matter. When you’re three to four times younger than most of your employees (and a literal child), I doubt that many people will take you seriously. It doesn’t help that her father owned the facility and that her grandfather was one of the company’s founders. She likely had to be strict and unforgiving and create a steep power gap to keep her authority, which increased the detachment from regular people.

As for Alfred, due to the lack of human contact, he solely focused on Alexia in a clingy, somewhat unhealthy way. Alexander indirectly supported Alfred’s dependency and fixation on his sister with his neglectful behavior and the lack of other attachment figures. Alexia was the only human Alfred ever loved. Even after she went to her cryogenic sleep, Alfred was unable to get close to anyone else. With Alexia gone, Alfred almost lost his sanity and only recovered enough to be functional. Unable to form new bonds with other people, the only way to cope with his loneliness was to develop a dissociative identity disorder to be with “Alexia” again. He seemed to be more or less aware of his disease, though. Why else should he be so paranoid about keeping people away from his private residence despite its neglected state and prohibit any questions regarding “his sister”?

His inability to form relationships also may lead to Alfred partially losing touch with reality. His notes show how detached he was from human interactions outside of a work environment. (“Once that has been achieved, I'll build a palace where only nobles may gather. I cannot allow the unwashed to see my dear Alexia, to whom my life is devoted to.”). Here he is idealizing aristocrats in a rather naïve way, most likely based on fairy tales and his experience with his own family, not with actual people. It’s just wishful thinking that he will eventually find friends among his own kind and that these people are better than the ones who work for him. In reality, Alfred put himself above others and developed a general disregard for human life, as you can see in multiple of his actions. He treated his employees like shit (canceled their vacation, “He doesn't even treat us like human beings.”, “Work is extremely demanding, and there's nothing fun about it. I'd rather be dead!”), threw his sectary into prison for asking too many questions and killed him later on. Alfred also used the prisoners for construction work and executed them afterward to silence them. Plus, he hired and supported a schizophrenic anatomist who tortured and killed people for entertainment. And like in his sister's case, his young age when Alfred started working contributed to this. As I said above, he took care of the Antarctica Base after Alexia’s “death” with 13. While Alexia was at least a child prodigy, Alfred wasn’t and only got the position via family connections. The people working there likely took him even less seriously than his sister (an unqualified child becomes the boss of more experienced or even long-term employees), which forced him to treat them in the most authoritarian way possible to get at least some respect. Even when he grew older, Alfred never backed away from this direction and risked letting his guard down. Other humans were nothing but insignificant insects to him anyway.

Contrary to his interaction with other people, Alfred also had very low self-esteem when it came to Alexia. Though, he wasn’t unhappy with the power imbalance. All his actions were aimed at making her happy regardless of this causing him discomfort. He dedicated his life to her and saw himself as her servant. She was his queen, but he wasn’t equal to her, not a king or at least a prince, but a servant. Alexander had indoctrinated him with his behavior, achievement-orientated education and giving up on him right after birth for lacking the desired genetic traits. He made it clear to Alfred that he stood below his sister if he couldn’t keep up with her in terms of intellect. Even though Alfred spent more than 15 years without Alexander, he could never overcome this lesson. Finding out that he shouldn’t have existed in the first place and that he was, in fact, genetically inferior to his sister likely left some scars as well.

And then we have Alfred’s somewhat childish demeanor. There is this room filled with toys in his residence on Rockfort Island. He is 27 (23 when the mansion was built). Why does he need this? He is too old for teddy bears and children's carousels. As discussed above, Alfred’s childhood ended abruptly at 13. From this point on, he was forced to behave like an adult. There wasn’t a smooth progression through his teenage years. He had to work and take responsibility. Even before that, his early years were likely lonely and dull when Alexia was too busy to spend time with him. Alfred must have hoped that he could make up for the childhood he and Alexia (the real one and/or his alter ego) never really had, at least a little bit. For this reason, he collected all those toys. If he ever actually used them is another question. The dolls in the lower levels of his mansion seem to fulfill a different purpose, though. They likely belonged to "Alexia". The real Alexia apparently collected dolls. In her room are several dolls neatly arranged in a cabinet and don’t look used. Alfred based his Alexia-persona on his sister and just continued her hobby.

Alexia’s doll collection

Discovering the Truth

The event that changed everything was Alfred discovering the truth about his and Alexia’s origin. Before the said event, the Ashford family seemed to be in unhealthy yet stable conditions. Alexander favored Alexia over Alfred a lot. Though Alfred was never jealous of his sister, quite the contrary, he always admired and only wanted all the best for her. Up to this point, Alfred must have thought Alexia hit the jackpot in the genetic lottery. Not supporting her intellect in any way possible would have been a waste of potential. So enduring Alexander’s emotional absence for his sister’s sake was bearable.

Now the truth shed another light on the situation. Alexander’s documents revealed that Alexia wasn’t particularly lucky. She was planned, designed to be this way. On the other hand, Alfred was particularly unlucky for not inheriting the same genes. Not only that, he should have never existed in the first place. Alexander’s emotional neglect wasn’t just a result of concentrating on Alexia. He straight-up didn’t care about Alfred since he was not what he wanted. Alexander only kept him around because Alfred was the living proof of what he has done, and no one, especially not Spencer, should find out about his little secrets. Even after all those years, Alexander didn’t see Alfred as his son, he was still just the failed byproduct of an experiment. Alfred wrote that he hated Alexander and wanted him dead. You can also see an expression of Alfred’s hatred in the Antarctica Base, where he had destroyed Alexander’s portrait (who else had the motive to do this?).

Destroyed Painting

Being created unintentionally and less intelligent than your clone sister certainly sucks, but this shouldn’t matter if Alexander would have been a good father, regardless. Alfred wasn’t even angry because Alexia had something he didn’t have. Whether her intelligence was natural or artificially created didn’t downgrade her achievements and it certainy didn’t change his attitude toward her.

Discovering the truth was certainly harder for Alfred. And Alexia was smart enough that by this point, she must have figured out that Alexander was using her to do what he couldn’t. But realizing that your father only “loved” you because you were a successful experiment must still be hard to swallow. If Alexia would have been a failure as well, Alexander most likely would have adapted the procedure and repeated the experiment until he got what he wanted, a genetically advanced clone of Veronica. That’s how science works, after all. In that case, Alexia would have gotten the same treatment as Alfred, condemned to a life as laboratory waste.

I don’t think you can blame the twins for hating Alexander after all they have been through. They must have felt like they were Alexander’s lab rats rather than his children after learning the truth. Feeling used and lied to, Alexia turned the table around and gave Alexander a taste of his own medicine. He never cared about her or Alfred, at least not in a way a father should. Why should she care about him? What has he ever done for her? He leeched on her success. That’s it. He used her to achieve things out of his reach but didn’t contribute. Alexander was useless to her, according to the lessons he taught her. And, contrary to her brother, he didn’t even give Alexia emotional comfort. Using him as a test subject allowed her to hit two birds with one stone. She could give Alfred the revenge he wanted and test her virus.

Conclusion

Alexander contributed a lot to the situation escalating the way it did. He never intended to mistreat the twins, physically they got everything they needed, but he was too absorbed in his ambitions and forgot that the twins are human beings that need more than food, water, and a comfortable environment. If he just would have raised them more like normal children and been the father and moral guidance they needed, much pain could have been prevented. It’s not Alexia and Alfred’s fault what became of them. However, the twins are still responsible for their own deeds, especially Alfred. He lived alone for more than 15 years. During this time, at least he could have tried to get closer to others or show some empathy for other people. For example, Harman seemed to be genuinely concerned about him. He could have been something like a friend or fatherly figure for Alfred if he would have accepted it. Also, not everything is linked to Alexander, some issues are rather a result of the general circumstances.

#resident evil #resident evil code veronica #alexia ashford #alfred ashford #alexander ashford #ashford twins #meta #🩸🌙#i rewrote this 3 or 4 times and i’m still not happy with how it turned out #anyway i’m not going to rewrite it again #it's too long and the interest in this topic is rather limited

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lepartidelamort · 3 months

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In a Utopia, The Government has to Cut Your Balls Off to Prevent You From Doing It Yourself

The Mormons didn’t move fast enough to cut this guy’s balls off, so he had to cut his own balls off.

Now, the feds are going to hold the Mormons responsible.

This is all very normal. Very, very normal.

You are, in fact, living in a utopia. If you don’t recognize this as a utopia, you are the problem, and you should move to a fascist dictatorship like Russia or China, where men are forced to keep their testicles attached.

New York Post:

The Justice Department filed a lawsuit Tuesday against the state of Utah and its prison system after a transgender inmate “removed her own testicles” in response to “unnecessarily delayed” treatment for her gender dysphoria. The lawsuit alleges that the incarcerated transgender woman – unnamed in the complaint – was discriminated against by the Utah Department of Corrections following “multiple requests to UDOC staff for treatment for gender dysphoria, including multiple requests for hormone therapy” upon entering the state prison system in 2021. The inmate was diagnosed with gender dysphoria in June 2022, nine months after she first requested hormone therapy, and the hormones were not provided to her until January 2023, according to the complaint. “When UDOC started the Complainant on hormone therapy it did not do so safely or effectively,” the DOJ claims, adding that her access to care “was contingent on a biased and unnecessarily prolonged approval process” and resulted in her gender dysphoria worsening. “In May 2023, Complainant performed dangerous self-surgery and removed her own testicles, resulting in hospitalization and additional surgery,” the lawsuit states. … The Justice Department said in a statement that the lawsuit is “part of its broader efforts to combat discrimination against individuals with gender dysphoria.”

Note that the inmate has not been identified.

He was probably a child rapist. That’s typically what trannies are involved in: child rape.

The thing with the kids is a bit different, where they are going after kids with emotional problems in the school – particularly autistic kids and kids with single mothers – and manipulating them into thinking they are trannies.

Those kids are legitimate victims of the homosexuals, Jews, and women who run the American education system.

But adult trannies are all very seriously sick people, with deep problems. Claiming that someone who cuts his own testicles off is very normal and just needed the government to cut his testicles off is so far outside of reality as to numb the mind.

This is what separation from God leads to: every type of stupid lie and confusion.

I was thinking about old school atheists like Ricky Gervais who were politically incorrect and opposed to this “woke” stuff.

Here he is going hard on trannies and on God:

youtube

It’s very ironic that these aggressive anti-God people actually thought they were going to create a perfectly rational world by denying God, and now they end up with the most irrational possible world.

None of the things that the atheists pointed at as “irrational” in the past really had anything to do with religion. Maybe you believe that “going to church and praying” is irrational, but it’s very easy to argue, even if you don’t believe in God, that Church and prayer are good for community cohesiveness and personal mental health, as well as transferring positive social values.

But everything else they point at as “irrational” had to do with low scientific development. They will point at various medieval medical practices, at things like bloodletting, and say this was “irrational.” Well, that has nothing to do religion, obviously, but it’s hard to even say it was “irrational.” It was rational within the framework they were working with at the time, they just lacked scientific knowledge.

Religious-linked social practices like restricting women’s rights turned out to be very rational – the peak of rationality, in fact. The same, it turns out, is true of suppressing homosexuals.

The atheists would point to specific sects, such as the Christian Scientists, who refused medical treatment. But these were a minority religious group. If you look at mainline Catholics or early protestants, there is very little you can point to and call “irrational” in terms of their actual behavior.

Certainly, religious people were not cutting men’s balls off and calling them women, or doing anything approaching that level of derangement. And the thing is: this stuff is all a result of the destruction of religion. This quest for “rationality” had the precise opposite effect.

Again: even if you believe religion is totally manmade, that God is not real – religion is still the best possible structure around which to organize a human society, as it provides guidelines that shape human perception of reality based on thousands of years of knowing what works and what doesn’t work.

“Women should stay at home and have children because God says they should do that” has the same effect as “women should stay home and have children because if we let them loose in public they will turn everything into a gigantic sex drama and then totally destroy society.” Just so, “God says homosexuality is an abomination” has the same core content as “if you normalize homosexuality, homosexuals will go into your schools and start convincing boys to chop their dick and balls off.”

Without religion, nothing is true or false, and therefore nothing is right or wrong, and therefore the government will just start mutilating people’s genitals and claiming it’s a utopia.

There is no solution to modernity other than a return to God.

By Andrew Anglin

#dailystormer #Youtube

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woodmamtoys · 2 years

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Good at compromising-Woodmam

　There are times when we do really struggle a bit to control our emotions too, and that's when it's important to think about your children, who are learning from you about how to deal with their anger. What kind of an example do you want to set for them? 　　C. Be optimistic, not nagging and complaining. Do you respect people who complain incessantly? Would you want to be around people who nag all the time? You would say: I can't avoid them! Children feel the same way, when they listen to their mothers nagging them, they want to find a place to hide, but the worst thing is that they can't find such a place! Nagging, sighing and complaining are behaviours that greatly hurt your image in your child's mind. 　　D. Handle your child correctly for making mistakes. Children often make mistakes out of curiosity or ignorance, and in some cases it has to do with not being able to control themselves. As children themselves, they often panic when they make a mistake, thinking that they will never be liked or trusted by their parents, teachers or classmates, and that they will regret it. Therefore, the most effective time to teach a child is when he or she makes a mistake. 　　Firstly, give your child the right to complain and let him or her talk about how the mistake happened in a calm manner. 　　Secondly, help the child to recognise the nature of the mistake and the harm it has done, and the child can really grow in the process. It is even possible to keep a child's mistake a secret so that his or her self-esteem is not bruised. In such cases, the child who makes a mistake will usually learn from it, redouble his or her efforts and be grateful to the parents. 　　(4) Be good at compromising 　　Compromising with the child does not diminish the parent's prestige; on the contrary, if the child is compromised with under certain conditions, the child will feel that the parent is relatable and respectable, "Compromise with conditions, prestige becomes natural." 　　Surrender is not an option and unconditional compromise is tantamount to 'giving up' to the child. In the long run, the child will never consider the feelings of others and will naturally believe that his or her needs should be met! 　　Neither should you give in to your child's unreasonable behaviour. Some parents don't know what to do when they see their child crying and pouting, or their hearts go soft and they give in to their child's needs. This compromise is bound to have many consequences, as the child learns how to deal with adults from this "gain". 　　There are three steps to effective compromise. 　　A. Ask the child to state clearly and distinctly what he or she wants and why. 　　B. Discuss the reasonableness of the request with the child. 　　C. Make certain concessions to the child, but the child must take some responsibility. 　　Learn to be a "cheerleader" for your child 　　Never be a "referee" for your child. 　　As soon as a child is born, he or she begins a journey of competition and struggle. In the arena of life, children can only work on their own and parents cannot replace them. 　　However, parents can give their children the strength to keep them in good shape, and that strength is the power of the cheerleader. 　　We should put ourselves in the stands and cheer from a distance, whether our child is in the winner's position or temporarily behind, and give them a positive applause, because they cannot go to the end of success without their parents' "cheering". 　　Building your child's self-confidence is a core task of family education. 　　Self-confidence means believing in one's own potential and making positive choices in everything. Self-confidence plays a decisive role in a child's development. We regard "self-confidence" as the soul of education, or rather, without self-confidence, everything is meaningless and impossible for a child. 　　According to Liu Jinghai, one of China's most accomplished and successful educators, "People live by their self-concept! If you think you are a good person, you will live like a good person; if you think you are a bad person, you will live like a bad person. So the number one thing in education is to make a child believe that he or she is a good person, a capable person! This is self-confidence and the core of personality is also self-confidence. around the age of 10 is the critical period for self-confidence to form, when a self-concept of self-confidence or inferiority is formed, which will affect the whole life of the person." 　　1. How to find and praise your child? 　　(1) Discover your child's "shining points" 　　The first task is to pick out the things that your child does right from the ordinary and praise them. 　　Some parents may say, "Why can't I find the good in my child? How can I praise my child when I always think he is useless? How can I praise him if he is not even close to other children?" In fact, parents who think this way are looking at their children with a critical eye. Of course, it doesn't mean that it is wrong for parents to look at their children with a critical eye, but the key question is what you are "critical" of. If you are picking on your child's flaws or shortcomings, you are sending a negative message to your child. If you are 'picking out' your child's strengths, then you will naturally recognise and praise your child.

Educational toys can be used to prompt children's learning abilities

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biggest-gaudiest-patronuses · 3 years

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I suspect quite a few people on this site don’t realize they are struggling with the effects of chronic trauma. In particular I think more people need to learn about the symptoms of C-PTSD.

Distinct from general PTSD, Complex PTSD is caused by prolonged, recurring stress and trauma, often occurring in childhood & adolescence over an extended period of time. There are many risk factors, including: abusive/negligent caregivers, dysfunctional family life, untreated mental/chronic illness, and being the target of bullying/social alienation.

I’m not a mental health professional and I’m not qualified to diagnose anyone, I just remember a million watt light bulb going off in my head when I first learned about C-PTSD. It was a huge OH MY FUCKING WORD eureka moment for me—it explained all these problems I was confused and angry at myself for having. The symptoms that really stood out to me were:

Negative self-perception: deep-seated feelings of shame, guilt, worthlessness, helplessness, and stigma. Feeling like you are different from everyone else, like something is fundamentally ‘bad’ or ‘wrong’ with you.

Emotional avoidance of topics, people, relationships, activities, places, things etc that might cause uncomfortable emotions such as shame, fear, or sadness. Can lead to self-isolation.

Learned helplessness: a pervasive sense of powerlessness, often combined with feelings of desensitization, wherein you gradually stop trying to escape or prevent your own suffering, even when opportunities exist. May manifest as self-neglect or self-sabotage. (I remember watching myself make bad choices and neglect my responsibilities, and having no idea why I was doing it, or how to stop myself. Eventually I just stopped caring, which led to more self-neglect.)

Hyper-vigilance: always feeling “on edge,” alert, unable to relax even in spaces that should feel safe. May be combined with an elevated “flight” response, or feelings of always being prepared to flee. (I used to hide important documents and possessions in a sort of emergency go bag, even when I was living alone and there was no logical reason other than it made me feel “prepared.”)

Difficulty regulating emotions: may include mood swings, persistent numbness, sadness, suicidal idealization, explosive anger (or inability to feel anger and other strong emotions), inability to control your emotions, confusion about why you react the way you do.

Sense of foreshortened future: assuming or feeling that you will die young. Recurring thoughts that "I'll be dead before the age of 30/40/18/21 etc." As a teenager I used to joke darkly that I didn't plan to live past 30—not because I planned to end my life, but because I simply couldn't imagine myself alive and happy in the long-term. I couldn't imagine a meaningful future where I wasn't suffering.

Emotional flashbacks: finding yourself suddenly re-experiencing feelings of helplessness, panic, despair, or anger etc, often without understanding what has triggered these feelings. Often these flashbacks don’t clearly relate to the memory of a single event (since C-PTSD is caused by repetitive events, which can blur together), making them harder to identify as flashbacks—especially if you’ve never heard the phrase “emotional flashback” and don’t know what to look for. For years I just filed it under “sometimes I overreact/freak out randomly for no reason, probably bc I am just a terrible human being.” (It turns out there was very much a reason, it was just hidden in the past. I have since learned to be kinder and less judgemental towards myself.)

There are other symptoms too, here are more links with good info.

I’ve been meaning to write this post for awhile, because I’ve noticed that a lot of the people I interact with online have risk factors and experiences similar to mine. These include:

growing up in a dysfunctional household

having caregivers who do not fulfill basic emotional needs (do not provide consistent positive attention, encouragement, support, acceptance, communication, a sense of safety and security)

on a very related note, experiencing neglect or abuse at the hand of caregivers or other adults. I also want to emphasize the significance of emotional abuse, since it is hard to recognize, easy to ignore, and utterly rampant in so many communities. In general, family dysfunction, abuse & neglect are quite difficult to identify when you are a child/teen and that is the only “normal” you have known.

(For example, in my family it manifested as an emotionally absent father I was vaguely frightened of, constant nagging from a hypercritical mother, and a house full of people who yelled and screamed at each other. It took me years to realize I grew up in an abusive environment, because there was no physical violence, because I participated in the fighting, and because my behavioral problems made me the family scapegoat. And I internalized that guilt: I thought I was the problem. But no—I was a child, and I deserved not to grow up in a household full of anger and fear and negativity. You deserved that too. You deserved to grow up safe and loved and treated with kindness.)

anyway back to more risk factors:

being neurodivergent or chronically ill (especially without receiving proper treatment/support/accommodation)

being queer (especially in a conservative or undiverse community, or without the support and acceptance of family & friends)

being the target of bullying or harassment (from peers, teachers, authority figures, irl, online, etc)

being isolated or alienated from peers, from family, from your wider community.

growing up with chronic anxiety, discomfort, pain, fear, or distress caused by any of the above and more.

There are many other experiences that can cause chronic trauma, but these are some particularly common ones I see people in my own community struggling with. And I want more people to be aware of this, because we’ve been taught to ignore and second-guess the significance of our traumatic experiences. We’ve been taught to feel guilty for our own pain, because “other people aren’t struggling, so I shouldn’t either” or (contradictorily) “other people have it worse, so I shouldn’t complain.” But that’s not how it works—you are not other people, and you deserve to have it better. We all deserve better. We deserve to be happy. We deserve not to be in pain.

I used to think I couldn’t have a trauma disorder because (I argued in my head) the things that happened to me weren’t that bad. And then I spent five years in therapy learning to accept the full extent of my issues. I’ve since learned that trauma comes in many forms, and can happen quietly, invisibly, silently, chronically, and usually without the survivor being aware of the long-term repercussions of what they are surviving. That revelation comes later, after you have survived and must instead learn to live.

Finally, no single type of trauma is more real or harmful than any other. Severity is measured by the way the individual is affected, and the same situations affect different people in different ways. Because no one gets to choose how their brain reacts to trauma. No one gets to choose their hurt—otherwise there would be a hell of a lot less hurting in the world.

We can, however, choose to seek help. We can learn to recognize when something is wrong, we can learn when to reach out to professionals, and we can learn to educate ourselves on our injuries.

And gradually, we can learn to heal.

(posts like this brought to you by ko-fi supporters)

#The way things are is not the way things will always be. So I have learned to trust.#i...i accidentally spent 4 1/2 HOURS writing this what the FUCK #long post #not a shitpost #serious post #mental health #c-ptsd #complex ptsd #trauma #ask to tag #i need to take a break and drink some tea #maybe with the fancy new tea biscuits i just bought #they have pecans and honey. i like honey #pecans are gross though except apparently in biscuits. these biscuits are really good #anyway let me know if you're worried I've misspoke or misrepresented anything here #again i'm not a professional. i'm just a person in therapy who has spent the last few years learning about and healing from complex trauma #and i wish i had known all of this years sooner. but i know it now so i'm putting it out there #bc i hope it helps someone dealing with the same things i dealt with.#i know things now that were painful to learn. and i will use them gently with great care #i wish i hadn't suffered the way i suffered. but since i have--how miraculous if i could use it to prevent others from suffering the same #that's the best thing to do with pain i think. turn it into something warm and blazing and try to use it to keep others warm #pain is like fire that way. you can burn yourself and others with it. or you can tame it and keep it in a jar and use it as a guiding light #For the Love of All the Fucks please notify me of typos

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seijorhi · 3 years

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Pretty Young Thing

A yandere Erasermic commission for an anon, I hope you like it bby!!

Aizawa Shouta x reader x Hizashi Yamada

TW non-con, breeding kink, pregnancy, surrogacy, pregnant sex, smut, age-gap, nsfw

“Don’t you think she’s a little young, ‘Zashi?”

“It’s up to you both how involved you are during the first stages and the overall pregnancy. Normally we suggest an initial meeting with the potential surrogate for all three of you to get a feel for one another and decide if you want to proceed with the arrangement, but should you wish, we can–”

“No,” he interrupts, sparing Hizashi a fleeting glance. “We want to meet her.”

Beneath the desk, his husband squeezes his hand.

Hizashi quirks an eyebrow, pausing midway through fixing his hair in the mirror. “Whaddya mean, babe? She’s in her twenties ain’t she?”

He’s not wrong, but that’s not the issue. They picked you, they both picked you, but there’s this lingering unease that he can’t seem to shake. It’s not so much your age specifically, he knows that you’re only a few years younger than the majority of the other women whose profiles they’d seen – you’re old enough to understand what you’re getting yourself into and agree to it, at any rate – it’s just that he doesn’t quite understand why somebody your age would want to do this.

And there’s something different about you, it’s just a feeling of course – he hasn’t yet had a chance to confirm his suspicions, but he wants to meet you and decide for himself.

“We do have a number of potential surrogates with promising Quirks if you’re considering pursuing that option for your child,” the Doctor told them, smiling as they flipped through page after page of profiles.

Hisako, 35, Quirk: Sun-flare

Nozumi, 26, Quirk: Mimic

Koharu, 28, Quirk: Seismic Wave

Chiyoko, 33, Quirk: Golden Whip

Yuzuki, 32, Quirk: Silencer

There’s dozens of them – which is more than he expected.

Aizawa knew coming in that this wasn’t normally the process, that this agency catered specifically to Heroes – was recommended by the Hero commission – but it still feels strange, just browsing through pages upon pages of potential candidates to carry their baby.

Was he supposed to be feeling some kind of emotion looking at these profiles? The women were all healthy, each of them attractive, in their own ways (nothing but the very best, the Doctor had reassured them with a smile). This woman, whoever they picked, she’d be carrying their baby, yes, but that was the extent of it. She wasn’t going to be a part of their lives beyond that, so what did it matter if she was nice or liked to cook or play tennis?

There were stats, of course. Their education and IQ’s and little snippets of history, but they were all impressive, otherwise they wouldn’t have been included. Were they supposed to choose based on their Quirk? One that might compliment his or Zashi’s? Quirks were troublesome things to begin with, and–

“Wait-wait, Shou, hold up,” Hizashi’s voice cut through his musings, long fingers wrapping around his wrist midway through turning the page. “Go back one.”

He does as he’s told, flicking the page back.

Y/N, 23, Quirk: N/A.

A lone eyebrow lifts. Quirkless, huh? A blank slate.

But that’s not what caught Hizashi’s eye.

“She’s kinda cute, don’tcha think, baby?”

It feels weirdly like a first date, nervous jitters and all – though he’d like to believe he’s better at suppressing that now then back when he was a teenager. Aizawa hasn’t bothered to shave, but his hair’s tied back in a loose bun and he’s pulled out a suit for the occasion – he’s even wearing a tie for fuck’s sake. Beside him, Hizashi’s ditched his usual leather jacket and ripped jeans for, well, nicer jeans and a button up floral shirt.

And then there’s you. Standing in the doorway of the cafe glancing around like a little lost lamb, he recognises you instantly from the picture on your profile, but the moment your eyes meet his he’s struck with the realisation that the picture didn’t truly do you justice.

Because you do look young (at least compared to their thirty odd years) and it might just be the hesitant smile adorning your face as you start to make your way over, or the charming little summer dress falling to your mid-thigh, swishing hypnotically with every step, but Shouta feels something catch in his chest the more he stares. You really are… what was the word ‘Zashi had used? Cute?

Yeah. You were cute.

The agency had offered to host this little meetup at their clinic, and while he hadn’t particularly cared one way or the other, Hizashi’d been insistent. He’d wanted this to feel ‘natural’.

‘I don’t really wanna meet our potential baby mama for the first time in some boring, sterile office, d’you?”

He’d only bitten back a sigh at the time, shaking his head. It wouldn’t have been worth upsetting him by reminding him that the girl was technically a glorified incubator. He had every intention of being involved in this process, but this initial meeting was to establish two things. Firstly, that after meeting them, you still felt comfortable with carrying their baby, and secondly, he wanted to make absolutely certain that you weren’t trying to get anything out of this.

Oh, he knew you were getting paid, handsomely, he’s sure, but the thought that you, or any of the women the agency had fobbed their way might not all be in this for altruistic reasons had crossed his mind.

You were just so young.

But he was more than happy to determine those two things in a ten minute meeting at the agency.

Hizashi was not, and so here they are.

Ten minutes in, and he finds himself glad of his husband’s insistence. Hands wrapped around your mug of coffee (you should enjoy it while you can) you chatter away with Hizashi, beaming and blushing, tripping over your own words in your nervousness.

You’re about as dangerous as a kitten, and he allows himself to relax enough in his seat to enjoy watching the blonde charm you.

“So why don’t ya tell us a little about yourself, songbird?”

“There’s really not all that much to tell,” you say with a sheepish laugh, but they listen as you talk anyway. It’s nothing the profile hadn’t already told them, nothing spectacular that would make you stand out in the crowd.

And yet, an hour and a half later, you’re trying in vain to distract him and Hizashi both so that you can slip your card in with the bill to pay for lunch, and Shouta finds himself oddly amused.

There were other candidates – ones with impressive Quirks, smarter than you, more accomplished than you, older than you–

“Ya sure you don’t want a lift, sweetheart? It’s no trouble.”

You smile again, demure little thing, and shake your head. “Oh no, really it’s okay. It’s not far and… I like the walk. Thank you, though.”

– but none nearly so endearing, he thinks.

And when they watch you disappear into the crowd, one final wave thrown over your shoulder, Hizashi’s fingers lace with his once more.

“So she’s our baby mama, huh?

He’s silent for a moment. “I suppose so.”

—

The agency recommended, at least in the initial stages before the implantation procedure took place, that any communication between the three of you should go through them.

Hizashi had your number programmed into his phone before you’d even left the cafe, and he’s been texting you every day since – to the point where it wasn’t unusual for Shouta to come downstairs and find Mic chuckling to himself, fingers dancing across the keyboard on his phone as he replies to whatever message you’ve sent.

Shouta, for his part, tends to message only to check in.

How are you feeling? Any side effects from the meds?

Your response comes a little slower than usual, and it’s almost an hour before finally he receives it.

Sorry they’re cracking down on us using our phones at work :(

Everything’s good so far! The doc said i should be on track for our appointment next week!

… is it weird that I’m a little excited haha?

His brow furrows at that. You hadn’t mentioned a job – at least not to him, he’d have to ask Hizashi later whether you'd said anything to him.

Why on earth were you still working? He’d seen the contracts, he knew exactly how much you were getting paid for this little venture, wasn’t that enough to support you?

He makes a brief mental note to make sure that whatever job you were working at, you stopped long before the baby was due. You might just be a surrogate, but he’d be damned if his baby was put in jeopardy because you were needlessly exerting yourself.

Nevertheless, his expression softens somewhat as he reads the second part of your message. You were excited, hm?

Well, that made three of you.

Both he and Hizashi’d been willing to come along to the clinic with you – he’d even submitted a formal leave request to take the day off from UA, but the Doctor had assured him that it wasn’t necessary.

“The procedure is quick and relatively painless. She’ll be home within a few hours, and so long as she remains off her feet and doesn’t undertake any strenuous activity, she will be perfectly fine.”

It hadn’t sat particularly well with Hizashi who’d spent the afternoon huffing and complaining about the clinic trying to kick them both out of the process. That much, he expected – he understood it to an extent; the agency catered specifically to Heroes, most of their clientele probably had busy schedules (which was true in their case as well). There wasn’t a need for them to be present at such a minor procedure, even if it did hopefully mark the beginnings of your pregnancy.

What he hadn’t expected was the twinge of discontent he felt settle in his own stomach. The Doc might’ve preferred they stay out of this, but at the end of the day he really didn’t give a shit what she or the agency wanted.

So he messaged you.

Do you want us there with you?

He watches those three little dots bounce for almost a solid minute before finally your reply comes through.

No, it’s okay, you don’t have to come. The Doc said it wouldn’t take long and I don’t wanna be a burden for you guys

It’s not really an answer to his question, and he briefly wonders if Hizashi might be right about the agency interfering, but he’s not going to fight you on it.

At least, that’s his plan until Principal Nezu pulls him aside at the end of a staff meeting and tells him that he’s found somebody to cover his classes tomorrow if he still wants the day off.

“Ya gotta go, babe. One of us should be there for our ‘lil mama.”

He asks you what time your appointment is and there’s a surprisingly pleasant fluttering in his stomach when you walk through the clinic doors and catch sight of him sitting in the waiting room.

It’s a momentary surprise – you almost do a double take, but a smile lights your face and you ignore the receptionist in favour of racing towards him.

“Shouta, I thought you weren’t coming!” Your arms wrap around his middle, squeezing tightly.

He finds himself returning your hug – albeit somewhat stiffly – but he’s glad he made the decision to come. The Doctor wasn’t wrong, you’re only in with her for just under twenty minutes, and when you come out there’s a tremble in your legs, but you seem otherwise fine.

It goes without saying that he’s driving you home, though you try once again to beg him off.

Kitten, when are you gonna learn that so long as you’re carrying his and ‘Zashi’s child, they’re going to go out of their way to make things easier for you – whether you want them to or not.

Yet your quiet discomfort on the drive home doesn’t slip past his attention. Maybe it’s because he’s become accustomed to your nervous rambling, but there’s something odd about the way you’re sitting so quietly, fingers twisting in your lap as you stare out the window. He knows that if Hizashi was here, he’d be chatting your ear off, but he’s never been one to fill silence with unnecessary small talk.

Though he can’t exactly help the way his own mind drifts. Are you in pain? The Doc didn’t say anything about there being any pain, only that you should rest over the next few days, so it shouldn’t be that. Perhaps you’re just lost in your thoughts – it’s strange for them having a surrogate, he can only imagine what’s going through your own head now that it’s actually begun. He hopes that you aren’t having second thoughts, almost opens his mouth to ask before thinking better of it.

You’re entitled to your thoughts and feelings, whatever they may be, and if you wanted to talk to him about them, you would.

It’s not until the scenery outside starts to change and the fancy sky-scrapers give way to dingy apartment blocks and dilapidated buildings, crammed in together too tightly that he realises that it’s not discomfort that’s written across your face, but embarrassment.

This was your neighbourhood?

Shouta recognises it, and really he should have picked up on it earlier when you’d given him the address – he’s spent more than a few nights patrolling the area. It’s a hotspot, not for the high-class, dangerous villains plastered across the news every night, but thieves and murderers. Petty thugs who prey on the weak, those addicted, with nowhere else to go… you live here?

Surely with the money you’re getting from the agency, and your job on top of that, you can afford a better neighbourhood.

He glances at you out of the corner of his eye, watches as you all but shrink into your seat, and when you speak, your voice is little more than a whisper.

“You can just drop me off at the corner here.”

He pulls the car to a stop by the curb, and for a moment neither of you speak. He doesn’t know what to say, and judging from the way you’re nibbling on your bottom lip and glancing up at him, you don’t either.

“I–”

“Thank you,” you cut him off with a tight smile. “For coming today, and for… this. I-I really do appreciate it.”

The words aren’t quite sincere, but he only nods – noting the miniscule sigh that escapes your lips at the action. “Of course. Anytime you need us, just call, okay.” He waits for you to nod before continuing, “Do as the Doc said, rest.”

You all but scamper from the car after saying another goodbye, though Shouta waits until you’ve disappeared into the crumbling apartment block before driving off.

Maybe the inside is nicer, but he sincerely doubts it.

—

“You should’ve seen it, ‘Zashi.” The two of them are curled up on the love-seat, half empty containers of takeout littering the coffee table in front of them. “I just can’t figure out why she’d be living somewhere like that.”

The blonde frowns. He’d been messaging you throughout the afternoon, so he knew that the appointment had gone fine. It wasn’t that he expected to come home and find the erasure Hero jumping for joy, but the subtle discontent on Shouta’s face had been enough to make him pause.

“You’re worried about our ‘lil songbird?” he asks, pushing away just enough so that he could turn to study his face.

The short nod says plenty. Of course he is – even if you weren’t potentially carrying his child, you’re young, beautiful and far too innocent for your own good. In places like that, you were easy pickings, and you don’t even have a Quirk to protect yourself. His job requires him to assess his students’ strengths, their failings and weaknesses and their progress. He doesn’t need to see you in action to know that you wouldn’t be able to hold your own in a fight.

It bothers him.

“She’s not safe there.”

Hizashi hums, but instead of settling back against his husband’s side, he straightens up further. “Well, why don’t we go take a look-see, huh handsome? Make sure our sweet thing’s pad’s all safe ‘n sound, put your mind at ease. Whaddya say?”

As he stares into those imploring green eyes, Shouta knows that he should say no.

Concerned or not, there’s still a line, privacy that should be respected. He’s tired and this is the only night that they both have off this week. Your place is almost twenty minutes from theirs, and it’s already late – almost midnight. The list goes on, there are a thousand reasons that he should say no.

“Fine. Just for tonight.”

—

Two weeks later, the two Heroes receive a call from the agency; the blood test came back positive – you’re pregnant.

In the blink of an eye, at least to Shouta, this becomes startlingly real. You’re pregnant. They’re going to have a baby. Boy, girl, it doesn’t matter… You’re pregnant, and as his husband ends the call and yanks him by his collar into a fierce kiss, he realises how important this is.

How important you are, just by the virtue of carrying their baby.

They invite you over for dinner to celebrate, and while he’s never been one to flaunt the comfortable lifestyle he and Hizashi have, he does find it strangely pleasing to watch you wonder wide eyed through their apartment. He’d be the first to admit it’s big – bigger than they’d ever probably need, though with the baby on the way maybe they’ll finally be able to make use of all that extra space.

Mic grabs you by the hand, eagerly dragging you towards the nursery he’s already begun setting up. “Once I heard the good news, I just couldn’t wait to get started! Our little rockstar’s gonna have the sweetest crib, don’tcha think? Ain’t it amazing?”

He’s already started painting and there’s a wooden cot halfway assembled and the beginnings of a musical mobile pushed off to the side waiting for him to return to it. It’s hardly close to being finished, but you just grin, gazing at the mural he’s started on the walls. “It’s amazing,” you say.

“I knew ya’d like it!” he beams.

Shouta hangs back as Hizashi guides you through the rest of the apartment, chattering excitedly away. He likes seeing his husband happy, and somehow you manage to bring it out of him without even trying. It’s still early days but Shouta has to admit that already you’re more to him and Hizashi than he expected, or even anticipated. You fit well with them, seamlessly, as if you’d always been a part of their lives.

After dinner, they drive you home despite your protests, and Hizashi insists they walk you up to your apartment. You’re no doubt under the impression that they’re doing it to be gentlemanly, missing the shared looks between the two men as they pass the out of order elevator and tread down hallways with stained carpet and peeling wallpaper, ignoring the leering yellow eyes of your neighbour, peeking out from the crack in the doorway as they bid you goodnight, ‘Zashi squeezing you extra tight.

There’s an uncharacteristic hardness in his husband’s eyes as they both slip back into the car, “No way in hell are we lettin’ her stay here.”

On that at least, there’s no arguments from him.

—

Hizashi, unsurprisingly, is the one to bring it up.

The three of you are grabbing a bite to eat after your first ultrasound. This time, both of them had been insistent on being there, and he’s glad they were. Seeing that grainy image of their baby, hearing it’s heartbeat – strong and steady – had filled him with an emotion he’d never felt before.

It was happiness and excitement and wonder and awe all mixed up and wrapped into a gut punch that stole his breath away, and while Hizashi had burst into a loud fit of tears, burying his face in Shouta’s neck while reaching for your hand, he’d managed to keep his own at bay.

Mostly.

Regardless, you have little choice but to indulge them when they drag you out to one of the blonde’s favourite restaurants – on the proviso that they had you home in time to get ready for work.

“Songbird, there’s something the two of us have been meanin’ to ask ya.”

You perk up a little, hastily swallowing down your mouthful of food so you can reply, “Oh?”

He wonders if you notice the way your hand already instinctively drifts to your stomach, your barely there baby bump.

“Why’re ya livin’ in a place like that, sweetheart?” You freeze, the corners of your smile slipping, but Hizashi continues, “Ain’t the money from the agency enough? We know you’re working that other job as well… we just…”

Shouta can physically feel you tensing like a bunny caught in a trap, and he doesn’t know what possesses him to reach out, sliding a hand across the table as you pale, but you take it regardless.

“Talk to us. Please,” he begs. “We just want to understand what’s going on. You have to realise that it’s not exactly a safe neighbourhood, and it’s not just you we have to worry about anymore.” Dark eyes flicker pointedly towards your stomach.

It’s a dirty tactic, but that doesn’t mean it’s not the truth. Did you realise how much danger you were truly in? Not just from the common street thugs – though frankly he thinks it’s nothing short of a miracle that you’d managed to get this far unscathed – but any number of villains with a grudge against either one of them, or Heroes in general. If they found out a pretty, quirkless thing like you was carrying their baby, how long do you think it would take before they tracked you down and kicked through your door?

Your eyes flicker between the two of them, and you swallow shakily. “I-it’s…” you break off, taking a deep, steadying breath, “It’s all I can afford right now.”

“But, hun, what about–”

“I know,” you say. “The money for the surrogacy isn’t for me. It’s money I owe.”

Neither Hero speaks a word as you talk, telling them about your uncle, the man who raised you, how his business went under a few years back and you both lost almost everything.

Shouta isn’t surprised to find out that your uncle turned to loan sharks when the banks turned him away and threatened to take your house. Alarmed at the man’s blatant stupidity, yes, but not surprised. Your eyes start to water when you tell them about how he died a few months back – a hit and run – and the visit you were paid only a week later, informing you that your uncle’s debts were now yours, and payment had better come through quick.

Your hand’s trembling in his by the time you finish. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t have any options, I didn’t know how else to get the money, and they said that i-if I didn’t pay up, they-they’d–” a sob catches you unawares, and once again it’s Hizashi who’s out of his seat and at your side in a heartbeat, sliding into the booth beside you, pulling you into a one armed embrace.

It’s his eyes that you meet, and Shouta understands. He doesn’t need you to explain what threats were made. You were scared, terrified probably, and you had every right to be.

“I didn’t know what else to do,” you sniffle. “I’m sorry for lying to you.”

Really, he should be furious. Disappointed at the very least.

“Move in with us,” he says instead, ignoring your sudden, startled intake of breath. “At least until the baby comes.”

He should be, but this works better.

—

It takes a little longer than he’d like to convince you, but the two of them wear you down and a few weeks later Shouta finds himself carting boxes of your things up into the spare room in their apartment.

Despite the fact that you’re pregnant with their baby, you’re terrified of being a burden to the two Heroes, but it’s because of the baby that you eventually relent.

They want to be close, involved. They want to know that you’re safe – and their apartment’s state of the art security system will make sure of that when they’re not home with you. They want to make sure that you’re not exerting yourself, that you’re eating the right things and not running yourself ragged at a job you don’t need, stressing yourself out needlessly and putting the baby at risk.

All of that’s true.

It’s just not the entire reason.

At first, he convinces himself that it’s for Hizashi, as well as his own peace of mind, but he’s starting to wonder if that’s the full truth of it. Because of course he wants to keep a close eye on the pregnancy – he knows that this can’t be easy on you. You have no family left, and if you have any friends then they’ve done an excellent job of keeping you at arm's length.

You have nobody but them, and it does bring him some modicum of peace to know that you’re just down the hall if anything goes wrong.

Hizashi adores having you there with them, having somebody else to cook for, somebody to come home to at the end of a long day. More than a few times, they’ve both returned from a night of patrolling to find you curled up on the couch, fast asleep with a blanket over your legs and a book slipping from your fingers, having tried, and failed, to wait up from them.

You tune into Mic’s radio show on the nights you can’t sleep, and on the odd mornings that you wake up before either of them, they come downstairs to find bacon sizzling away in the pan, a pot of coffee already brewing. There’s something oddly charming about the way you pout while you pour it for them, knowing you can’t have any yourself.

“You’re a special kind of masochist, ya know?” Hizashi teases, sidling up beside you to grab a cup.

You sigh dejectedly. “I must be,” you reply as he plants a kiss on your cheek and squeezes your side affectionately, but it’s impossible to miss the sparkle in your eyes. You’re happy here, with them.

Shouta warns you from pushing yourself too much, but even he can notice the apartment’s tidier when they arrive home than when they left, the freshly baked goods sitting on the countertop that weren’t there yesterday.

“I just… I know I can’t pay you back for all of this, I just wanna make myself useful,” you tell him one night when he asks about it. “I still feel like I’m taking advantage of the both of you, staying here…”

“You’re carrying our baby, that’s enough,” he reminds you, his calm, steady voice brooking no disagreement. And yet, as dark eyes study your face, he can tell that it’s not enough for you, so he sighs, and in a quiet voice adds, “We like having you here.”

He likes having you there. Sitting at the dining room table, helping him grade papers, lounging around on their rare days off together – helping Mic set up the nursery, volunteering to go shopping with them for baby stuff. He’s lost count of how many pregnancy books you’ve bought, pouring over them with a fine tooth comb late at night – often falling asleep in the process, leaving him and Hizashi to carry you off to bed with a barely there kiss to your forehead.

You fit between them in a way he hadn’t quite expected. Not a burden, not an interloper, but as if there was always a place carved out for you with them, and it’s only now that they realise that there was something missing to begin with.

It doesn’t quite click until he finds his thoughts drifting towards you at work, his fingers drumming along the top of his desk so he can stop himself from reaching for his phone. He’s not usually so distracted teaching, and as the hours drag he finds himself glancing towards the clock on the wall, counting down the hours, minutes, until the day is done and they can return home to you.

Shouta can’t pretend for much longer that there isn’t something oddly satisfying watching your belly grow and your breasts swell as your pregnancy goes on. You’re glowing, and soft and beautiful, and he could kid himself and say that it’s just the normal effects of pregnancy, but there’s some part of him that’s strangely proud when your shirt rides up and he catches a glimpse of your baby bump – knowing it’s his child you’re carrying. His and ‘Zashi’s and yours.

And oh, he wishes that it was only pride that burns through his veins at the sight of you, barefoot and pregnant, pottering around the apartment. Hizashi’s the one to hold back your hair and rub your back soothingly when your morning sickness hits, but it’s Shouta who takes care of you when you start complaining about aching muscles and joints.

He tells himself that it’s purely about comfort, namely yours, ignoring the way you flush and stutter when he drags you up the stairs and pushes you gently towards the bed, telling you to lie down on your side.

It’s just a massage, yet the moment his fingers run along your soft skin and a breathy moan slips from parted lips, the very last vestiges of the facade he’d built up in his head crumble into dust.

You’re perfection. Bared and beautiful beneath him, making the prettiest noises for him as he works away at your muscles, expertly releasing all of your tension. He’s glad that your eyes are shut and you’re lost to the bliss, you don’t notice the way his breath hitches and becomes rough and heavy, the way his cock twitches in his sweats, blood flowing south as you arc into his touch.

Such a responsive little thing, aren’t you?

“You’re amazing,” you moan, and though you can’t see that either, Shouta smirks. “Please never stop.”

It’s a good thing he has restraint, because it’s taking absolutely all of his to stop himself from taking more.

He wants all of you.

Wants to tease and taste.

Take.

Wants to hear those pretty fucking moans take the shape of his name… Hizashi’s name.

And maybe he might have felt guilty for those perverse thoughts, for the way he wants to tear the rest of your clothes off and fuck you nice and proper, breed you–

If his husband hadn't been standing by the door, watching the two of you for the last ten minutes. Shouta doesn’t need to look to know that it’s not anger or jealousy burning in his gaze.

He knows that his husband’s far from disgusted, knows it from the way Hizashi grabs his wrist on his way back down the hallway, pulling him instead to their bedroom and shoving him back onto the mattress with a wicked grin.

There’s something positively feral in the blonde’s expression as he hovers over him, forcing Shouta back down with a hand splayed across his chest, the other reaching down to his sweats to free his aching, needy cock.

“You’ve been holding out on me, baby,” he sings.

—

They have time.

Your due date is still months away, and you’re comfortable, here with them.

There’s no reason for you to consider leaving until the baby’s born, and Shouta is adamant about keeping it that way. Hizashi can huff and puff and moan all he likes, he knows that they have to take this thing with you slowly. He won’t risk spooking you and losing any chance they have.

That’s not to say that he doesn’t empathise with the blonde, what with all the affectionate hugs and touches you thoughtlessly bestow, the way you’ll plonk yourself down on the couch between them so they can feel when the baby’s kicking.

Hizashi’s gotten to the stage where he’ll drop to his knees to shower your stomach in kisses when he gets home of an evening before sweeping you up into a hug of your own, his face a mask of perfect innocence when he catches sight of his husband’s less than impressed expression over your shoulder.

Having you here with them, this little temporary faux family dynamic the three of you have found yourselves in is easy, domestic and nice. It should be enough, but it’s not.

“It’ll be weird, going home after this,” you hum absentmindedly one night.

Preoccupied with the noodles you’re toying with in your bowl, you miss the sharp look shared between both men.

“Whaddya mean, sweetheart?”

If you notice the odd stiffness to the words, you pay it no mind, simply shrugging. “I mean once the baby’s born. I dunno, I think I’ve become too comfortable here freeloading off of the two of you…” you glance up, smiling a little. “Going back to work and finding a place on my own again, starting fresh, it’ll be different, that’s all. Not bad different,” you hasten to clarify at the blonde’s nearly stricken face, “just… different.”

“Well it’s not like we’re gonna be forcing ya out, hun! You’re always welcome to jam with us for as long as you want.”

You shake your head with a rueful little laugh, “We both know I can’t do that. You’ll have the baby to worry about and the last thing I want is to feel like some awkward interloper, always getting in the way – especially after everything you guys have done for me.”

Hizashi’s fingers dig into the meat of his thigh, tightening with every word out of your mouth.

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “I’m not saying I’m never going to come around to hang out or anything, but once this baby comes I’m gonna have to figure out what I’m going to do with my life.” Your eyes meet his, wide and hopeful, and Shouta’s reminded once again of just how young you really are. “I can go anywhere, do anything. It’s kind of exciting, don't you think?”

It was a mistake, to think that you’d come around to them on your own.

You were young and naive, still living out a rose tinted fantasy where the world was your oyster and all you needed to do was reach out and take it. And maybe he’s partially to blame for that, taking your problems and getting rid of them, making you feel safe and comfortable, not realising that that security didn’t extend outside of these four walls, outside of their protection.

They need you, but kitten did you ever stop to think that you need them, too?

Shouta had made the mistake of forgetting how this all came to be – you hadn’t wanted a family, you were just trying to save your own skin. You still think that you can make it on your own, without them.

He supposes he shouldn’t blame you for your misplaced idealism, it’s only natural after all. Some people just don’t know what’s best for them.

They need to be shown.

—

You don’t stir as your bedroom door swings open.

Not as Hizashi pulls back your sheets, groaning softly at the sight of your swollen breasts and precious baby bump, stretching against the confines of your silk pajamas. “Ain’t she a fuckin’ dream, Shou?”

Not as the blonde busies himself in carefully sliding your sleep shorts down your legs, or even as Aizawa gathers up your wrists, pressing a kiss to each one, and binds them to the headboard with his capture weapon.

“Gentle, ‘Zashi,” he murmurs when the blonde crawls up on the bed beside you. “Nothing too rough.”

You wake as long fingers caress your cheek, tilting your face towards him so he can kiss you properly.

Shouta hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights, but bathed under the soft glow of moonlight from your window, he watches your eyes flutter open, the momentary confusion that flashes across your face followed by realisation, horror, as you try to jerk back and cry out–

Only Hizashi doesn’t give you the opportunity, winding his hand through your tresses and anchoring you against him, forcing your lips open so that he can deepen the kiss and groaning appreciatively when a terrified whimper escapes you.

You still haven’t noticed Shouta kneeling on the bed between your legs, too preoccupied by Hizashi’s tongue sliding against yours. “Relax, kitten,” he says, laying his palm on your thigh, letting his thumb glide over the smooth skin.

“Let us take care of our cute ‘lil baby mama, yeah songbird?” Hizashi adds, breaking away from the kiss with a lovesick grin.

Tonight is solely about you. Your pleasure, whether they have to tease it from you willingly or not.

Your tears are kissed away, your broken little pleas swallowed under ‘Zashi’s greedy lips as Shouta shuffles down the bed, nudging your thighs further apart so he can lie between them.

The keening cry that leaves you at the first stroke of his tongue against your warm sex is a thing of beauty.

Blood rushes to his cock as you writhe, and he tightens his grip as much as he dares to keep you locked in place as he delves in again. There’s little finesse to the way that Shouta eats your pussy – it’s a simple study of reactions; the way you gasp and shudder when the tip of his tongue circles your clit, the way your pussy clench and quiver around the muscle when he eases it inside of you, massaging your spongy walls.

Never one to be left out, Hizashi decides that there’s a better use of his attention than just your lips. With your arms bound, he’s not able to take your top off entirely so he settles with yanking it down, freeing your breasts.

“Fuck baby, you’re so pretty. Look atcha!”

Your tits must be tender and aching, because the moment Hizashi’s mouth envelops one of your nipples, sucking at the pert nub, a fresh sob bursts from your lungs and you’re trying desperately to wriggle away.

Hizashi just frowns, breaking away for a second to brush a stray lock of hair back behind your ear, “Ah shit, sorry babe! I’ll be gentle, promise.”

Shouta’s far too preoccupied by the intoxicating taste of your sweet cunt to notice whether he actually does or not, but he trusts him not to push you too far. There’ll be plenty of time for that later.

Your baby bump is cute and all, but Shouta wishes that it wasn’t blocking his view of your face – he wants to watch every little expression as he slides two thick fingers into your dripping cunt and your hips buck up to meet him. It’s a twisted kind of pride he feels, pride fused with filthy, maddening pleasure as he pulls a string of choked moans from you with just a few shallow thrusts of his fingers.

His jaw’s slicked with your juices, your cunt sucking his fingers deeper when he turns his attention back to your poor, neglected clit. He can tell that you’re close, not just from the needy whimpers and the way your muscles are tensing beneath him, but the desperate canting of your hips, rocking up against his face even as you beg for relief.

“Shouta, Shouta, please– oh god, please stop, p-please!”

He longs to wrap a fist around his throbbing cock, desperate to help relieve the burning ache deep in his gut as you cum for the first time on his tongue. Or better yet, maybe have Hizashi wrap that perfect mouth of his around his cock and suck him off–

But now’s not the time for him to be greedy.

Rough fingertips prod at your walls, searching for that hidden little spot that’s gonna make you go wild–

You almost convulse when he finds it, and Shouta can’t help but smirk against your cunt as you tighten and quiver around his digits. With Hizashi playing with your tits, pressing hot, open mouthed kisses along your neck, Shouta’s lips wrapped around your clit, tongue flicking at the sensitive pearl as he suckles on it and long, thick fingers driving you to madness with each and every stroke, it’s too much for your poor, pregnant, oversensitive body to handle.

You cum with a strangled shriek, and Shouta almost moans at the flood of juices that gush from your trembling cunt onto his waiting tongue.

“How’s she taste, baby?” Hizashi asks, green eyes blown wide, his own erection straining against his leather pants.

Shouta doesn’t waste a beat, pushing himself up with one arm and grabbing his husband’s wrist with the other, yanking him into a fierce kiss – letting him taste your honeyed juices on his tongue.

Fingers tangle in dark locks, tugging him closer, and ‘Zashi lets out a low, throaty groan. It’s rough and eager, a slow burning frenzy that makes the blood in his veins sing with excitement. With their lips still locked, the blonde hastily yanks at the zipper on his pants, freeing the painfully hard member with a tight hiss.

But when he finally does break for air, it’s not Shouta that he addresses, but you, lying spent, crying and breathless between them, beautiful in your fucked out state.

“You can’t expect to put on a show like that and not get me all worked up, sweet thing,” he coos, taking his flushed, throbbing cock in hand and giving it a few slow, cursory pumps. “I’m gonna fuck ya so good, baby – have you singin’ like a little birdie for me,” his eyes meet Shouta’s, a wicked smirk tugging at his lips. “Nothin’ but the best for our cute ‘lil wife. Whaddya say, songbird? Lemme make you feel all nice and special, yeah?”

#yandere bnha #yandere shouta aizawa #yandere hizashi yamada #yandere erasermic #yandere shouta aizawa x reader #yandere hizashi yamada x reader #shouta aizawa x hizashi yamada x reader #tw non con #tw pregnancy #tw breeding kink #tw age gap #oh my god it's like 5am why do i keep doing this to myself

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starshipsofstarlord · 3 years

Note

💕 reader turns into a baby and obsessed with Bucky. Awww 🥺

Infant Issues

bucky barnes x reader / masterlist

warnings; fluff, morgan definitely being tony’s kid, biting, swearing, spoilers for IW and Endgame, mention of the blip, childish behaviour from adults, terrible humour (I really am sorry), spoiler for WV, mention of age gap, kinda a crossover, an absolute mess 😂

“Morgan?” Bucky frowned, as the girl tried to speed past him. It was not wise for anyone to allow the mischievous child run around the compound alone, she always got up to nothing but trouble, and there was such a glazing in her brown eyes.

She didn’t spare him a glance, instead, she bolted, causing the super soldier to sigh. He would have went after her if there weren’t already footsteps recurring from the path that she had just came from; it was his father. It so happened that there was a bundle of joy in his arms, crying like the sudden crack of dawn.

“What were you going to do, wait another five years to tell everyone about this one, Stark?” Bucky asked with a chuckle, though the cries from the infant muted at the sound of his voice. The child wiggled in Tony’s grasp, trying her utmost to reach out for the vibranium armed hero.

“She’s not my daughter, if she was, I think me and you would be having conversations.” Tony’s words spurred a frown to combust out onto Barnes’ face, and the billionaire sighed, shifting the baby so that the baby was in Bucky’s arms.

The child cooed up at him, her eyes were a baby blue, sure to avert possibly into a different colour once she grew elder. “Look, I didn’t ask if I could hold her, she’s cute, but why do you-“

“Morgan did it.” Tony willingly blamed his own daughter. With her various experimentations, she was definitely taking after him. He’d be sure to keep this one quiet from Pepper, otherwise he was almost certain that he’d be banned from bringing Morgan on expeditions to the compound.

“I though y/n was supposed to be watching her.” Stated the enhanced soldier, cocking his head at the information that he recalled. He promptly remembered you abandoning him half way through training the newbie recruits, because Happy was dropping Morgan off, and you had offered watch over her, despite the associate being there.

“She was, and now you’re going to have to watch over her.” Tony pointed specifically to the child in his arms, and that was when realisation hit Bucky. He gulped, breathing through his nose to calm himself, as all the pieces clicked perfectly together.

This was not just a child - it was you. As he gazed down at you, he could finally see the pouted expression that would fixate upon your face when you paid attention to him when you were drunk, there was a glazing over your eyes as you raised your small and innocent hands, scraping down the stubble of his chin, as you curled further into his arms.

“I am going to kill you.” He steadily spoke, huffing as Sam went to walk past, but stopped himself when he saw the bundle of joy that was content in the brooding soldier’s arms.

“What the hell! Did you and y/n have a baby or something without telling anyone?” Oh, how he wished those were the circumstances, and if the pair of you were to ever have a child together, then he would be impartial to the idea of doing so.

"This is not my child, it's y/n, thanks to Stark over there." He bounced you in his arms, he even felt a small dribble of spit seep through his shirt, but he didn't mind, not as his icy glare was intently prized upon the philanthropist.

"Hey, it was my daughter's fault, not mine!" Tony excused himself from the blame, holding his palm against his chest, as he received as such. Sam ogled at him for a second, before returning his attention back into Bucky, and little you.

He came forwards, reaching his hand towards you, keening as you went to grasp his. As you did so, a smile broke out upon the man’s face, until it contorted into a sharp frown, the noise of a yelp escaping from his lips. “That little bitch bit me.”

“Language.” Steve rounded the corner, his golden brows raising when he saw the infant contently resting in his best friend’s arms. “Did you and y/n have a baby without telling us?”

“That’s what I said!” Sam beckoned to the blonde, as he averted a strong gaze to you and your normal sized partner. "Until she bit me, it reminds me of that time that I tried to steal her fries."

"I don't see why your complaining." Bucky rolled his eyes, bracing you up straighter so that your forehead was pressed lightly against his shoulder. "I'm the one whose partner is an actual child."

"Yeah, tell me about it." Sam rolled his eyes in reference to how you were beforehand, before Steve cut in, directing his leading tone towards the men that were stood idly by.

"What actually happened?" Tony found his enquiry to be an opportunity to avert the fault from himself; how lucky indeed was it that Steve asked such a thing.

"Technically it's your fault capsicle. Morgan found your prototype of your unsuccessful time machine. As you can see, she turned into a baby, much like Lang. And if you want to push the blame off of yourself, blame these two for their asses disappearing."

"Hey, if I wanted to disappear, I wouldn't have made such a dramatic exit. I'd have just left for my sister's." Crossing his arms, Sam shook his head at the man that was not wearing his iron suit. He was unable to take any responsibility, unless it was for his genius brain wave of creating the true transportation for the time heist.

"Well I'm going to keep that noted for any future repercussions." Oh, how Wilson regretting mentioning that now.

"You left it out, within your daughter's reach." Bucky quirked his brow, as he prepared to head towards the storage of the private laboratory that was shared between the two science bros.

"Technically, that was the big green guy." Bucky vouched not to listen to Stark, instead, he continued to walk, leaving the three other men in his rear view, though for the most part, he could still hear them bickering.

"Maybe we should turn you into a baby, I doubt much would change."

"Maybe we should turn you into a baby, I doubt much would change." Tony mimicked Steve, thus only proving his point. He was certainly a man that enjoyed pressing people's buttons, it was a shining attribute of the once playboy, and god, did it annoy the hell out of Barnes.

As he entered the laboratory, he found the lab to be in a state of havoc. "Hey, it wasn't me this time." Scott laughed, as he used an extinguisher against the frayed machine, that was blubbering sparks from its ruined exterior.

"Smash!" A small green child, wearing glasses that were far too big for him, ran across the room, followed shortly by a child with long blonde hair wrapped up in a red cape, as though it were some kind of makeshift diaper.

"Explain." Bucky bluntly stated, clenching his jaw, as he cooed lightly at your cries that pierced the air. He bounced you in his arms, not quite certain of what he was supposed to do.

In his time, there wasn't exactly an education system to teach the men going to war how to parent, or even care for a child. A part of him panicked; it was you, he hated seeing you cry in general, but now he couldn't attempt to find out the cause for your falling tears.

"Aw is that y/n?" The man half dressed in his ant man suit asked, a bright smile on his face, as he reached out to hold you. To say Bucky was hesitant to pass you to him was an understatement. "I have a daughter, I've looked after a baby before."

"From jail?" The white wolf asked, as he heard a crash exhibit from the connecting room, obviously being the fault of the two most destructive avengers, or at least, their little versions. Being aged down was definitely certification for trouble, everyone knew that.

"Okay I wasn't in there for that long." Scott reassured him, he picked up a bottle of milk from the table, handing it to the metal armed man, whom had never fed a child before. He found himself, cautiously, keeping a watchful eye, passing you over to the former criminal, intently watching every movement that the man made.

Lange simply fed you. "Always thought you and y/n would have a cute baby, imagine its- oh yeah, well after all that stuff that happened with vision and SWORD, we thought it best to destroy any technology that was recovered from the old base. This part survived, and well, I went into its- okay, you don't want to hear the science, but basically Thor insisted he could break it with his hammer, albeit whilst I was inside of it, and it sent energy around the room that turned them into pubescent children."

"I can see that it did nothing to you. And I thought Morgan did it.”

"I was so relieved, lucky I- wait, was that an insult?" Bucky remained primitively silent, and that answered Scott's question. The hero sighed, as you finished nursing, and your arms reached for Bucky, to whom he passed you to. “And I lied...”

He literally blamed a five year old for the screw up of grown men. Tony was going to thrive off this information, whence he knew that his daughter was in fact not the culprit.

"What do we do now?" He was eager to find a cure for this betrothed science. Those whom were responsible for your decrease in age, well, one was running around the compound, and the other, well, he was even younger than Morgan currently.

"You could wait twenty years, I mean you two already have quite a big age gap, and please don't kill me. I'm not sure that Cap would approve, I am a vital source to the team!"

"I'm not going to kill you tic tac. Or at least not at least until we fix these three."

"Phew." Scott wiped his brow, blowing air from his mouth. "Wait thre- oh yeah, the little guy carrying the hammer that is bigger than himself, and the

"Okay, we need someone smarter." Bucky sighed heavily, as he hugged you in thought. "You tried hitting it again with the hammer?"

"Oh my god, I could be worthy!" Gasped Scott, running off to the next room, only to come back limping, a pained expression on his face. "Little Asguardian bastard hit me!"

Bucky contained his smirk, and instead passed you to Lang, venturing into the other part of the lab, finding that Bruce was asleep, a blob of snot hanging from his nose, he could see the hammer in the middle of the room, almost as though it were waiting for him to attempt grabbing the handle, and Thor was-

The minuscule god jumped from one of the shelves, wrapping his arms around the front of Bucky’s neck, as he put all his weight on the super soldier’s back. In all practicality, Thor was strangling him, and Bucky tapped his arm, trying to convince him to let go.

“I know who Noobmaster69 is.” Thor quirked his head, lessening his hold, as he promptly awaited his now older friend to continue. “It’s, its- his name is Wade Wilson.”

“Wilson!” No, gosh no. Bucky stood completely, making sure to keep Thor in the vicinity, he needed him to be so so that he could reverse the affects on the son of Odin.

“Not Sam. Wade.” He had never met the man before, but god did he seem like a dick. When the pair of you were getting a taxi, the driver Dopinder just could not shut up about his friend, who liked to wear red, and had a kink for unicorns.

Wade certainly sounded like a weird one, but right now, his pass time was getting Thor to pick up that hammer. “Where can I find this Wade?” It practically left his mouth as a hiss, if the imagery and proven death supposed otherwise, he’d possibly think it was Loki instead.

“I will tell you, if you pick up that hammer, and hit it against that old machine. Got it buddy?”

“It’s name is Stormbreaker!” Bellowed the norseman, who tried to slide off his back, but Bucky kept a hold of his legs, refraining him from going anywhere. “Get peter to do it, I don’t want to play that game anymore!”

“Uuh, hi Mr Barnes...” That voice, oh he knew it, and the majority of the time it irritated him, he was Tony's little pet. “And, baby avengers?”

“Don’t ask kid.” Peter nodded, as he went to reach for a spanner. “Can you pick the hammer up, are you worthy?”

“Am I worthy?” He wondered aloud, his eyes fixated on the hammer, as he stepped towards it, holding his hand out, and clasping his palm around the handle, it feeling weightless in his grip, as he picked it up without effort. “Oh my god (it’s Robert Downey Junior)!”

“Great, now take it out there, I’ll deal with these two. And don’t do anything yet.” He was certainly feeling like a sergeant, throwing all the orders to the others, Peter complied, carrying the hammer as though it were an empty duffel.

“Can I try?” Instantly, after Peter passing it to him, Scott had such hope, until the force of gravity hit, and it fell on his foot, causing a light scream to ripple through his throat. “Get it off, get it off!”

Peter did so, as Bucky kept Thor on his shoulders, and grabbed a hold of Bruce’s chubby little ankle, dragging him into the other room. “Shit he’s heavy.” He saw that you were sat in the grand spinny chair, making Bucky relived that you weren’t in Lang’s arms as he attempted to have a moment of worthiness.

“What’d you do, go all Winter soldier on his ass and knock him out?!” Half screamed the prodigy of Hank Pym.

“Of course not, I think Thor did it.”

“Oh yeah, blame the kid because I did the same.”

“Put your suit from Stark on kid, unless you want to become a fetus.” Bucky ignored Scott for the moment,

“I got Hope to send her outfit, it will stretch to accommodate you, but I also think it would hug your shape nicely.”

“That was fast.” Muttered Peter, and Bucky shook his head, eyeing the outfit with weird eyes.

“I’m crazy, but not crazy enough to wear that.” Sighing, he grasped it in his hands, walking to the other room to squeeze into it. He noticed you watching, and thus he turned the chair around so that you couldn’t see anything. Little did he realise until he came out, that you had spun it around again, and was giggling. “Don’t laugh at me, or you won’t be allowed to see it when you’re returned to normal.”

A pout settled on your small lips, and it appeared as though you were getting ready to cry again, but before you could do so, a distraction intervened. An uninvited, and confusing one.

“Stop. Can I just say, that is some cruel declaration for the both of you, you’re my fave ship, after me and Hugh Jackman of course, but he doesn’t even know that this version of me exists.” A newfound imposter called out, his arms raised in the air. Leather gloves crinkled as he twitched his fingers, his white eyes freaking Scott the fuck out. “May I join you on this journey? I read about you guys in comics. And can I just say, I want to see these hunks and that hottie all grown up.”

“You want to see me go Winter Soldier on someone Lang?” Bucky gritted his teeth, prepared to murder this man for ever posing such words about you into the open air. Him speaking obviously drew some attention to him though, but it was not his rage that was mentioned, instead, it was his attire- or well, Hope’s.

“Nice suit Buck Buck. Can you do a twirl for me, I wanna see if it competes with America’s ass. Damn, does that man have some buns on him.”

“I know right!” Scott eagerly agreed, earning a smack in the nuts, to which had made him close to crumbling.“You had to use the metal hand, didn’t you.” Whimpered the Ant to the false Wasp, clamping his hands over his goods as he half hunched over. “I thought you often forgot to use it coz your right handed.”

“You’re on my left.” Gross, he sounded like Sam.

“Who the hell are you?” Thor spoke, and it felt familiar on his tongue. It was as though he had asked an enemy the same thing before...

“I, am Noobmaster69.”

“Hi, I’m Peter. Oh, we’re using our made up names, I thought Sam said it was that guy from that tech place.” Peter scratched his head through the mask, providing a small verbal distraction, as Thor willingly set himself free, launching at the intruder, whilst snatching the hammer from a suited up Peter.

“Aaasrrrghh.” He screamed like a true deity of the vikings.

“Thor, no!” Lang screamed, knowing that he’d have to come up with another excuse. The cameras had been fused whence Thor had first struck the hammer in the room, and it abused the guy in the red suit as he went for his legs, attacking the friend of Dopinder.

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janumun · 3 years

Text

A [Cat] Parent's Memoirs of Pregnancy ft. Spouse (Pregnancy Headcanons)

Game: Shall We Date: Obey Me! Rating: General Audience/SFW Tags: pregnancy sweetness (and shenanigans)

Summary: Satan's approach and reaction to having a baby with his S/O.

Author's Notes: YESSSS YOU CAN @niphredil-14. 💚💛 This is cute and very, very warm. I tossed in between giving him either fur babies or demon babies (he deserves both!), and chose this! I hope you enjoy your read. 💚

Requests for this event are now (long) closed, dear readers. Thank you to all those who participated!

Perhaps three or twelve feline babies later, the two of you might plan on making a hybrid child — with two hands and two legs, five fingers on each and absolutely no fur in sight.

Satan would prefer waiting until your youngest adopted foundling — a tiny, dark slip of a cat — is well into its second year in this world before he decides to try for a baby, of your own flesh and blood. A decision he hardly takes in frivolity. Every vulnerable life, be it cat or person, is important and requires adequate care; Satan is very well aware of the fact.

When the two of you discover you are with child, happiness trumps within alongside multiple plans he’s already running through his head for the arrival of your child. Unfortunately, his immediate task on the agenda is informing Lucifer about the upcoming arrival — fighting for board for his adopted cats’ was Hell enough, war waged with you by his side — lest Lucifer demand he find elsewhere for the two of you to care for your baby. He’s going to stomp out of the House of Lamentation if Lucifer so much as suggests displeasure at your child.

Begrudgingly — and as frightening as it is to witness this conversation in between the two brothers, you fear you might almost collapse at how tensed you are watching the two glare at each other — though your demon breaks the news, and perhaps almost surprising for Satan, Lucifer greets the news with good cheer.

Claret gaze warming in affection as it slides towards you before he congratulates the two of you on your pregnancy.

Suffice to say, once his other brothers are informed of the news, they’re gathering over to express surprise (you suspect it’s more about them wanting to fawn and coo over a human pregnant) and extend their well-wishes to the two of you. Gifts from every single brother — in good will, but largely injurious to your health and the baby’s — Satan has lined against your side of the bed. Lucifer’s he burns with his unearthly verdant fire the moment you’re presented with it and the elder brother’s out of sight.

Manuals are brought out, books are being purchased. Shipments from all four corners of Devildom, pricey tomes on human pregnancy from the Earth.

Satan’s here to provide you with all information necessary to nurturing a baby within your womb, random facts and tid-bits even you’re hearing for the first time. He stresses on keeping yourself healthy. He isn’t an over-bearing future father but does definitely encourage you to stick to the health schedule he draws up for you every week, making a point of, time and again, how important it is for you to follow a good lifestyle in order to see through a safe pregnancy and delivery.

Everyday walks, Kegels, healthy amounts of fruit and meat in your diet (let him know if anything — anything at all — upsets your appetite and he’s quick to swipe that item out of your plate, and your lives). None of which you’re doing alone because he’s more than happy to accompany you throughout your regime.

Don’t let him choose too many of the baby’s clothes however, he’s pulling the oddest combinations of clothes off the rack and it leaves you half-amused half-terrified for your future baby’s sense of fashion. [That is way too many cat onesies in bizarre shades, Satan!]

He would never force you to adhere to something he wasn’t capable of seeing through himself. And, first and foremost he wants to be there for and with you. If you’d let him, he’d be very hands-on in helping deliver your baby as well.

Every single time the two of you make progress through your health list, Satan’s got a pat on the head ready, stroking your hair, affectionate, praising you on how well you’d done that day and what good progression you’d been making lately. Parting stray locks to press a kiss against your forehead. One to your lips in a smile more than happy to, if you ask for more. He’s that perfect balance between strict and adoring.

Future Father™️ (not so) secretly loves to be wrapped up in surprise cuddles any day of the week. There is nothing more joyous than the thought of being needed by you.

Perhaps one of the more enjoyable parts of your pregnancy has been how much more physically affectionate your child has made you and he can hardly complain when you crawl across the covers to join him in bed as he reads. You settling soft against him, needy arms coming around. Swollen stomach, round and wonderfully full, pressed into his side, he almost thinks he feels the baby within, kick a foot in welcome against his side — Hello Dad, as if that’s what Baby’s saying, if they could speak. The rather ridiculously sweet thought’s enough to pull a soft bout of laughter from him and an arm he fits carefully against your shoulder to drag you in.

“Are you cold again, kitten? Come sit next to me. We don’t want you and the little one to get sick now, do we? Is that better? Do you need me to go fetch a blanket? Alright then, sweet dreams.”

He’s here to answer to your every need, so long as it’s within the bounds of reasonability and not injurious to you or the baby.

As much as Satan might seem in control of the entire situation; calm rationale persevering through your hurdles of new pregnancy and future parenthood. Despite how he is the one you seek comfort in and take pride in as the father of your child… Satan is not entirely without his own chips in a seemingly flawless armor.

His knowledge, no matter how vast and thorough, doesn’t replace the practicality of witnessing you nurture a child — your child — within your belly for nine long months. Less than even a speck within a demon’s eternity but so very long and at times… challenging, more than he’s ever encountered throughout his lifetime. Having been born of Lucifer’s rage and anguish, Satan has never known of a parent’s love, nor does he pretend to understand what it might entail. He’s never really felt the need to, past that hollow ache that surfaces at times, to know he was born of loathing and negativity, not nurtured from love.

Lucifer’s hatred of his Father, Levi’s brief mentions of his Mother… a bedtime story narrated of times within the Heavens past with their family, among the brothers, in Lucifer’s absence, is all he knows of the entities called ‘parents’. He does not know what he ‘feels’, if his emotions and reactions are appropriate for a life the two of you are responsible for, together. If his version of love would ever be adequate enough for your baby — the thought that they too might grow missing half the love of their parents, to have no outlet for restless agitation and hurt towards a father who’s never had one of his own… it terrifies him beyond belief.

Times like these are when you need to read him like the very books he’s so fond of picking apart. Seat him by your side and engage him in conversation of your future as a family of many, many children (demon/human and feline alike). Let Satan voice his thoughts, unformed or firm, however they might come across. Pity or sermons are not what he needs; rather quiet understanding and thinking space. To let him realize how he has no need for anxiety; his version of love is just as much valid and your absolute faith in Satan’s ability to love your child as much as he does you. Something you’re willing to learn, a new experience of loving your child, together, with him by your side.

And if the hand that reaches out to caress your distended abdomen, as if towards one very precious, the soft affection in that verdant gaze is indication enough, he’s already begun to learn.

Bonus: Baby Wrath™️ is studious and very interested in learning of the world around, from a tender age. Drinks milk regularly and lick-finishes their cup clean, like they are supposed to under the watchful eye of Dad Wrath™️.

Satan is strict only in terms of good manners and good education; he’s nurturing and encourages the child to enjoy whatever hobbies they develop over their years. (Reading is one and no one’s more proud than Satan that Baby’s often found burrowed within their father’s mountain of books). You do allow the child more leeway, in terms of candy consumption and staying up past bedtime, although that influence can be traced back to Uncles Mammon and Levi who are terrible role-models and have more than once caused Dad Wrath to explode on their sorry souls. Baby Wrath is — much to the chagrin and woe of his father — very fond of Uncle Lucifer and he is their (second) favorite in terms of gifting new and fascinating books to study, and teaching to write simple words, on occasion.

End Notes: Thank you for reading!

♧° Link to Master List °♡

#obey me satan #obey me satan x reader #obey me satan x mc #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #shall we date obey me #om satan #obey me fanfic #obey me: one master to rule them all #obey me fanfiction #you are so que(t)e #a pickle writes #pickle celebrates #obey me fluff #obey me satan fluff #obey me hc

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simplysummers · 3 years

Text

Breaking down Hunter and Omega’s relationship: Pt 3.

Hi everybody, I’m back with this weeks post on our favourite father-daughter-space-duo, the third instalment of the series! Thank you all so much for your positive feedback and discussions that have taken place over the last couple of posts, it means a lot to me to see my insights so neatly examined! I don’t really think the post itself needs much of an introduction, in of itself, it’s quite self explanatory! And I hope you enjoy!

(Pasted paragraphs: I would just like to add a disclaimer here. I am, in no way whatsoever, slating the other batchers for having differing relationships with Omega. I absolutely adore everything single one of the boys, and I think they all have wonderful and unique interrelations with her. Although I may point out these different approaches in comparison to Hunter’s, I am not stating these engages are wrong, just different is all!

I’m going to separate this into a little series- covering each episode in a separate post, which I’ll have tagged as the series progresses. Once I’ve tackled these two, as they’re my favourites, I’m going to move on to each individual Batcher and perhaps a few other dynamics such and Hunter and Crosshair, or Wrecker and Omega! Let me know what you guys would like to see!)

(Thank you to this weeks proof-reader: @treasureofmy-heart 💛)

Replacements: S1/E3

The opening scene in this episode is everything for these two. This is Omega behaving like an authentic child, a child in the midst of winding down with her datapad, leaning against Gonky, just…existing. She isn’t expected to be on hand for medical assistance, she isn’t studying, she isn’t working, she’s just living within herself, enjoying herself. Hunter makes a light comment, observing she doesn’t look too comfortable, allowing Omega the option to respond, she can either agree and ask to sit upfront, or she can stay if she’s happy to do so, but it already opens the door to a certain amount of communication between them. Of course, she insists she is fine and accepts her ration bar, yet before she can return to her seat on the floor Wrecker joins them, allowing their brief ordeal over the ration shortage to occur. I love both Omega’s immediate selflessness as she offers Wrecker her food, and Hunter’s sudden interruption in this little sequence. He doesn’t even allow room to consider her proposal, instead his immediate thought is to ensure this little girl can eat, especially considering she doesn’t even have anywhere to sleep (as we see this has been weighing on his mind by the mention of its necessity)

Omega’s response to Wrecker’s denial to accept her food- “Okay 😇.” Bless her little heart, she projects so much innocence with every word, and we can see from Hunter’s endeared little smile that he absolutely adores this about her. Upon Wrecker admitting that he hasn’t quite gotten use to Omega’s presence (which he looks very upset about, poor Wrecks 😔), Hunter insists that none of them have, but Omega isn’t making much fuss or complaining. This suggests that their brief conversation after leaving Saleucami is still heavily weighing on Hunter’s mind, he has taken his promise to both her and Cut quite seriously, and although both he and the rest of the batch are all still educating themselves in regards to Omega, she isn’t holding any resentment, and trusts them to make correct decisions in regards to her best interest.

I only want to briefly address the crash scene as their interaction are minimal, but I absolutely love how despite the fact that Wrecker is a lot closer to Omega, and ultimately does help her strap in, it is Hunter who takes presidency when addressing the situation. Although, as the leader, he has a lot of orders to cover to ensure they land without too much damage and every member of the squad is safe, his first priority is to ensure Omega is secure before he can move on to his secondary concerns. This relates back to the parental relationship of putting the guardian’s life second to the child’s. (To quote Shelby from ‘Glee’ “parenthood is about accepting the fact that your feelings and that your life and your body, that they all come second to making sure the child is happy and safe” which Hunter demonstrates perfectly here.)

I love how both Omega and Hunter look to Gonky as he slides past her and into the cockpit where Hunter is seated and is easily able to stabilise the unit once they finally land, (thanks to Tech’s amazing manoeuvring of course). I immediately noticed that when addressing the squad, Hunter’s head is veered more so towards Omega rather than Wrecker, where he asks her “are you alright?” with extreme emphasis on the “you”. This ties back into the previous point that Hunter’s new priority is her, as out of the entire squad she is in need of the most protection and reassurance. Alongside this, I discerned Omega’s body language as primarily Hunter-centric, she hangs her head in his direction throughout the entire crash, despite the fact Wrecker is much closer to her. She still finds the need to seek out Hunter specifically. This also mirrors their heavily pronounced relationship, which we see much more of throughout the season.

“I-Is…it…over?” Oh Bless. I love how she looks between both Hunter and Wrecker, unsure of where to direct her scattered and fraying attention.

Swiftly shifting towards the power capacitor hunt and Omega accidentally dropping Crosshair’s weapon kit, we see the entire batch deflate at the awkwardness of their sudden situation. Unknowingly, she has just resurrected a resented emotion for them, something they haven’t learnt to completely handle in the short amount of time they have been separated from their brother, and yet although his face falls harsh for a mere moment, Hunter is the first to immediately soften and approach Omega’s ‘mistake’ with a gentle tone, kindly explaining the device and its origin to her. And while everybody else completely avoids eye contact with the child, Hunter tries his best to meet her eye, most likely to add reassurance and strength to his explanation, for her sake.

I won’t delve too deep into this, but I’d also like to note that throughout the explanation in regards to Crosshair’s actions, Hunter seems to be the most…tense, this supports the later revelation that he has taken his own actions very personally, and is deeply frustrated with himself for leaving his brother behind, and bringing Crosshair up revives these feelings, which he has no doubt been trying to suppress. Omega immediately notices this, as she watches him retreat into the cockpit, with a clear sense of curiosity and concern for him. I love the effort by the animators to mirror the looks these two share behind one another’s back.

Maybe this is me potentially entering headcanon territory, but I speculate Hunter was the one to allow Omega to play with the oxygen masks. It isn’t uncommon for guardians of children who have come out of a traumatic experience to allow said child to play with a positive association to their ‘safe person/people’, in which case Omega’s safe people would be the batch, and therefore their association to the use of the oxygen masks would help her calm down after an upsetting crash landing and a tense conversation in regards to Crosshair.

Omega’s little lip tremble when the lights cut out….this poor kid isn’t use to pitch black :( no matter the dreary atmosphere of Kamino’s torrential storms, Omega was always kept inside the brightly lit walls of Tipoca City, and although Nala Se’s lab isn’t particularly well lit, it isn’t plunged into complete darkness like the Marauder was, sparing the emergency dim lighting which barely cast a shadow.

Her explanation of the Ordo Moon Dragon is so juvenilised with a small sense of dramatics- “it was THIS big, with a LONG tail!” This gives a gentle hint back to Omega’s childlike immaturity and her true age, both physically and mentally, which we see Hunter truly consider throughout the rest of the episode.

When Omega insists she wants to go with Hunter to retrieve their missing part, Hunter doesn’t even have to think twice before he denies her request, and his sole reasoning is because, “that thing could be dangerous.” and as we know his top priority is keeping her safe. But, of course Omega being Omega, she gives Hunter a pretty decent response, she is a part of their squad, and should be allowed the chance to prove her place amongst clone force 99, especially for something as quaint as a retrieval mission. Instead of outright denying her once again, Hunter ponders her reply for a moment, before agreeing, with the additional gentle reminder that she MUST stay close. Her excited little smile as she jumps from her standing position on the co-pilot’s seat to the floor, rushing past Hunter and straight for the exit, highlights her excitement to finally participate and assist Hunter on a mission of their own, which we see perplexes, yet intrigues him.

While exploring the moon’s surface, I immediately notice that sparing a brief moment of watching the floor, Omega’s eyes never leave Hunter, not even for a moment. She is completely complacent in regards to his rule to stick close to him, which is further continued throughout their second chat over Crosshair.

Without surprise, Omega copies Hunter’s actions a few times too, especially when tracing his hand throughout the dust. This is where she asks, “could I learn to track like you?” and here I’d like to specifically focus on the “like you” segment of her sentence. It shows a clear connotation between Omega’s desire to be just like Hunter, which we’ve seen she already had in episode one, and the natural desire to be considered a soldier amongst their ranks. Equally, I love how Hunter doesn’t outrightly reject her request, he simply says “it’s an enhanced skill,” which suggests he probably couldn’t exactly teach her how, but he appreciates her enthusiasm and finds her request almost quite cute.

Moving right along to their secondary Crosshair conversation, I absolutely love Hunter’s facial expressions throughout this passage. He isn’t harsh or crude, instead he is quite sullen, yet in a sympathetic tone. His entire demeanour is taken down slightly, and I believe this is to shield Omega from Hunter’s true self-hatred and deprecating emotions towards their situation. He is careful to explain himself to her, without adding too much honesty in hopes that he won’t unnecessarily worry her. Once again, this ending furthers the blatant protective connection between them. Furthermore, Omega’s reaction is so pure, yet extremely wise for her age and knowledge level. There is still a sense of juvenility to her widened eyes and the movement of her hand snaking it’s way around Hunter’s forearm comfortingly, and yet she still does her best to comfort him in the same way that he has done for her on multiple occasions in their scarce time together, sparing the Nexu event. We see this immediately makes Hunter smile, which is a pleasant thing to notice after the intensity of their conversation. In short, she makes him smile, she helps him, and vice versa.

After Hunter is attacked by the dragon, I can’t help but notice Omega’s worried little face as his mask is knocked aside and he begins to gasp for air. Even after he falls unconscious and she rushes to fix his mask, she still manages to push aside her anxieties to secure his safety and design a brief plan in her mind after backup becomes unavailable, I personally see this as a matter of Omega taking Hunter’s initiative to complete the mission, after assuring herself he is once again breathing and safe for the time being. I also love her little double take, one final look at her guardian before she takes off into the dragon’s nest, she’s so sweet.

Skipping ahead slightly as there isn’t much to cover in regards to Omega’s little lone adventure into the cave, upon Hunter’s return to consciousness I absolutely LOVE how after sucking in a few puffs of necessary air, his first, almost immediate, thought is Omega. He doesn’t even notice his blaster is missing (which we see later on when Omega returns it to him), his instant reaction is to call her name and start tracking her. And his worried expression as the realisation that she’s gone after the dragon dawns on him :( this man cares SO much.

THEIR. REUNION. IS. EVERYTHING. As her little head pops up out of the nests opening , he immediately scoops her up, crouches down to her level, pats her shoulders, rubs her triceps, and the first thing he says to her is “are you okay?” None of this angry shouting from the previous episode, no reprimanding for running off or disobeying orders, instead he makes sure she’s unharmed, and he’s so caring about it. This is character development at its finest. After assuring that she isn’t injured he, very tenderly, asks what she was thinking, insisting he was extremely worried about her. I’d also like to note Omega’s reaction to this, she doesn’t shy away from Hunter like she does in the second episode of the season, instead she excitedly explains that she completed their mission, even going far enough to say that she “tracked the dragon, like you did.” Further complimenting their close and confident bond with one another, she truly looks up to him. The realisation on his face that although small and somewhat dependable, she is no liability and can support herself and the others if needs be. The look is so…parental.

Upon their return to the ship, I love the way Hunter automatically lifts his arm to allow her little blonde head to rush past him and make way for a seat in the cockpit. Kiddo knows the rules, strap in before we take off, Hunter doesn’t even have to tell her.😇

I absolutely adore Hunter’s curious smirk as Wrecker leads Omega to her surprise, alongside the fact he is the first to follow them to see whatever their injured batch member has planned for the little one. I’d also like to note that he actually stares at Omega as they approach the gunners nest, only briefly breaking to take a look at Wrecker, but primarily his sight falls to her.

Her face…when she discovers her room, his face when he watches her jump up and giggle as she turns to thank Wrecker, these two absolutely melt my heart, I swear. He’s admiring her happiness, that splash of childlike innocence he and the batchers never got to have, exactly what he’s seen Cut give to his children, what he wants to give to her. It’s absolutely beautiful.

“I’ve never had my own room before.” Hunter’s split moment of realisation here, before he steps forwards and reassures her that she is “a part of their squad” their family, it’s just so charming to his character and role as her custodian. Omega’s equally gentle smile as she looks back to him, head resting against Lula’s ears shows her clear sense of peace in her new environment. I also think it’s absolutely adorable that while the other batchers share glances between themselves to silently thank Wrecker for his sweet act of kindness, Hunter only partakes for a moment, before he continues to watch Omega settle in, her head now falling against the wall, staring out into the inky black of space, with the new addition of her comforting fairy lights, which I’d like to specify are a warm yellow, in comparison to the bright white of the Kaminoan facilities. This contrast provides a nice device between Omega’s new comfort with her family on the marauder, and her cruel upbringing on Kamino. She is happier here, and Hunter and the others will do whatever they can to ensure she is always happy with them, as we can see from his consistent looks of admiration for her.

I hope you liked my analysis of Hunter and Omega’s relationship in episode three of The Bad Batch! Of course, I’d love to discuss these two with anybody who might be interested, so please feel free to drop me an ask or a DM, and if you’re captivated enough I’d totally recommend looking out for my future posts on the topic!

As always, much love to our ‘Megs and Hunter, thank you for reading! 💛

Part One: Aftermath

Part Two: Cut and Run

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i-need-air · 3 years

Note

Hey it's me again ❤️

I'm just gonna whisper something in your mind (is that even possible?)

Having a baby with Hybrid Katsuki.

Just that. Imagine girl. Perfection.

Ok, real talk here. Every time I see a request from you I uwu a little bit bc I know for a fact whatever you're requesting will make me get so immersed and involved and I'm gonna 💕💞AAAAAA💕💞 while writing AND [lemmecatchmybreath] it happened once again skdjdkfkf Hope you enjoy and sorry it took longer than normal~

Word count: 1.8k

× listen 🥺 I already started and I'm melting, ok?

× when he finds out you're having a smol baby together?

× he freezes and looks at you in a whole different light

× if you're getting pregnant, he will definitely smell the change in your scent and will know even before you do; he'd be instantly by your side with a bewitched expression on his face, taking your cheeks into his palms to just soak everything in yet he's shaking slightly

× and even if you adopt [hopefully a smol hybrid], something deep inside of Katsuki, burried and long forgotten surfaces

× this is the life he always wanted, he always craved even in his darker moments

× this happiness, this fulfillment, this joy

× I absolutely believe he will diligently read and learn everything about the baby to come; will educate himself like no other, deciding to be the very best father he could ever be

× his life was rough and he was stolen away from his biological family, he will now have a chance to have his own and he will not fail you or the baby

× when you hold the little bundle of sunshine in your hands, head down admiring the beauty of a new life, he will stand there, again in shock, again soaking this moment in... so beautiful, so perfect

× will he ever tell you that? of course not; angry ass wild pomeranian—

× but his face gives him away every single time and when you tilt yourself to hand him his new son or daughter, he falls in love for the second time in his life;

× he burries his nose in the soft and fragile skin of the baby's head and breathes in, his instinct kicking in to defend, protect, care, look out for...

× watch carefully because once the baby makes a noise, he'll still, unsure of what to do, but smile so softly as the baby coos in his arms securely; that right there is the best image you can have of soft Katsuki.

× the first few weeks are actually horrible, sorry to break it to everyone aksjskdj not because he doesn't know what to do or does not want to help; on the contrary, he is so incredibly attentive but he also recites the books he learned by memory at this point and it's getting absolutely infuriating;

× although understand him, please; he wants to prove he's a good dad 🥺 except you wanna smack him bc he scoffs if you suggest something he isn't sure about.

× you will find him standing by the baby's crib as it sleeps; he's just???? making sure this is not a dream????? don't question anything though

× can we hc Bakugou with a daughter too? [ already established in the Hybrid!Kiri hcs that Kiri'd have daughter bUT i just really really like beefy men with tiny daughters;;; my heartttt;;; ]

× his little angel, no discussion, no argument, his daughter can do NO WRONG!

× he's very down to earth though, don't get me wrong, he just absolutely adores spoiling her

× speaks softly into her ear, the lowest you'd hear from him

× gruff, raspy, gutural voice ofter overused to scream now low and soft as he holds her into his chest; doesn't do baby-voices or anything like that, but calls her his angel then smirks at you if you're watching;;; then starts softly complaining and bitching about you to the baby 💀 all while rubbing her back

× omfg his hand is as big as her tiny back; guys, call an ambulance, I'm—

× Katsuki would be the type of little shit to pull what I just said then grab you and glue you to his chest too; he'd look down at you both, eyes shining in such adoration he'd take your breath away just before he continues his ranting about you;

× once the baby starts being more interactive, her giggles specially the ones induced by her daddy will make him melt; absolute diminute baby with a small wiggling tail clapping her chubby hands at her dad? his eyes would widen suddently, ears snapping high in surprise and he's taken back by the emotions overtaking him

× he's gone, man; she has him wrapped around her tiny little finger and you can't do anything about it

× instantly acts all in denial if someone is around though; scoffs to hide is obvious smile, placing a palm on his mouth to further block it out and tickles her with the other, earning another fit of giggles

× please, don't tell him his whole tail is waving from side to side

× the only clear giveaway apart from his ears and it's;;; a d o r a b l e;;;

× specially when your daughter also starts wagging her tail in response whenever he does it;

× "Hey, come see what the dumbass is doing!" or "Look at what she did" while showing you a video; proud pappa 🥺

× we're bringing back Proud Bakugou bc hIS DAUGHTER iS tHe BeSt; no, seriously, his kid is the mf best in the world and he will start this presentation with—

× now sit down with me and accept this: the baby; yes, your sweet daughter; mhm, that adorable screeching angel; mhm;;; she'll talk so early it's disturbing.

× at 6 months or so she's already saying mamma, dadda, kitty, woof-woof

× seriously terrifying how sharp she is and how she cannot shut up; for the love of gOd, Katsuki, this is all your fault... it doesn't matter, he just smirks as he has another reason to brag to anyone about his child

× did that street vendor look at him funny? "I'M GONNA FUCKING TELL YOU ABOUT MY DAUGHTER—"

× super-protective of her and fucking hates with a burning passion if anyone dares to do that thing where they match up babies saying "Maybe they'll get married when they grow up"

× hands down, no filter, he just looks deep down in whoever had the audacity and says "Like fucking shit they'd deserve her."

× drag him away before he throws fists

× he will definitely if you don't drag him away and you know it, they know it, the baby knows it and cheers for pappa, the whole world knows it at this point and they're buying tickets to watch the shitshow

× chest carrier and walks around with the kid like a boss

× man has shit to do, don't even dare to judge him;

× handles fits really well, he's impressive to say at least

× she's spoiled, yes and always has new toys, coloring books, whatever she wants but the moment she throws fits, he puts his foot down

× baby would be smol angery bb all adorable in all her Bakugou genetics anger and he'd just stare, tapping his foot

× literally waits in place until she calms and looks up at him with big, round eyes, puffy red cheeks and ears lowered

× mission accomplished; he nods then picks her up;

× and you're there amazed??????

× "The fuck you lookin' at?" lil shit still has a foul mouth tho, but make him get just as pouty and embarrassed as the child in his arms by saying something cheesy like "How amazing you are as a dad 💕"

× all rainbows and unicorns until she starts repeating insults and fr tho, Katsu almost shits his pants, fearing your reaction. Will, hands down, chill out with the insults even if he meant no damage with them; he has this unreadable expression on, a mix of shame and fluster, dread too? he's sorry, ok????

× loves, loves, loves cooking for you both and once the kiddo has her own special chair to sit at the dining table together, that's when he sees it: his dream

× you, wiping some food off her cheek with a loving expression, talking about your day casually, baby giggling while she moves her face away playfully; he loves you both so much.

× has these rare moments where, at the end of the day once you're settled in bed, he'd hug you tight and thank you in his mind for... for this... all of it...

× once she starts walking they're both a disaster

× seriously, do not expect the household to be silent ever again [ well, that dream was gone long ago anyway lol ]

× "Where the fuck do you think you're goin'?"

× rapid giggle running around from place to place

× "Oh, for fucks—"

× "Katsuki." you only need to say, catching him in his insults

× 😳 ... "Kid, come back, we're goin' to the park." Skdjkdfkl

× sudden adorable tiny fast steps approach him bc they're going for walkies!

× he is very careful with her and teaches her about stranger danger; also teaches her how to growl and even if her attempt is a total failure, small rawr leaving her lips, he's like "Yes. Good job. Now give it more heart."

× he growls as an example

× she growls back, sounding like a cute lil pup 🥺💕

× as she grows up, she obviously acts more like her father yet he knows when to stop the bad behaviors and it only takes a warning growl from him to get her to cease

× yet somehow you're the strict parent at the end of the day??????? tf????????? who made the rules??????

× starts calling her brat, squirt, lil shit 💕lovingly💕

× "your child" if she did something bad

× "Your fucking child kicked the ball into the vase and broke it." Aha, nice one, Katsuki. Good job.

× not to brag but her puppy eyes don't work on him but yours do; the problem is her puppy eyes do work on you bc she's the light of your life so if she wants something; she'll puppy-eye you knowing you'll get it for her bc daddy loves you very much 💕💞

× literally evil mastermind; didn't I tell you she's sharp? pft, she's playing you both so hard

× every day he comes back from work she runs to him at the door, tail wiggling happily behind her as she stretches her arms to be picked up and he always does, without a doubt, then proceeds to kiss the top of her head

× come out to greet him too? the whole loving routine is his absolute thing and wants to see you, have you kiss his cheek; he complains but adores it soooooo much!

× you have a family night; BONDING WITH MOODY POMERANIANS. Yes, plural, and it sounds perfect~

× even if it's just one of those animated movies he hates so much, he'll watch through all of it and make sarcastic comments just to make you both laugh; will grin satisfied asf if he manages to do so bc he's the best.

× will definitely want another kid, so how about maybe a boy??? hmm???

× asks you if you're up for the idea and if you agree, he'll roll his eyes and crack his shoulders, acting so very uninterested and purely exhausted yet his smirk would give him away:

× "Knew you'd torture me with another devil"

× throw him out, istg— 💀

#bakugou katsuki headcanons #noire writes #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #hybrid!bakugou #hybrid!au

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madam-agony · 3 years

Text

The Exaggeration of Problematic Ships

WARNING: Mention of Abuse, Death Threats

Hello! In this post, I will explain my point of view on this whole thing about “problematic ships”.

The reason why I decided to discuss about this kind of subject is because I’m completely tired of seeing people throwing hate and bullying other people over something so harmless.

By the way, excuse me if there will be any grammar mistakes.

First of all, I will explain what “problematic ship”, “pro ship” and what “anti” means

“Problematic ship” means a ship between two or more fictional characters, regardless if they’re abusive, age-gapped, blood-related, or just considered wrong in general. (examples of proships: Sebastian x Ciel, Hisoka x Gon, Endeavor x Todoroki, Bakugo x Deku, Illumi x Killua, etc)

“Pro ship” means to believe it’s completely fine for people to ship whatever they want, even if it’s a problematic ship.

“Anti" means to be against pro shippers.

Now, I will explain why being a pro shipper is completely normal and deserve respect just like all of us.

Never compare fiction with reality. It’s dumb and makes no sense when you compare these two different things in a case like this.

A problematic ship would be bad in real life because it does harm someone. Though, in fiction, nobody gets hurt.

We can do whatever the hell we want in fictional world and no one can tell us what to do, and that’s the beauty of it. We can do whatever we want without caring about anyone else. Telling someone to stop fantasizing about something just because you find it wrong is pointless and dumb

Fiction doesn’t affect reality. At least, not in the way to be considered as dangerous. It’s silly to blame a video game for a person’s actions, the game has no fault. An adult is completely aware of what they are doing, so they should know that any action they take has consequences they must consider. If it’s a child or a minor, then it’s the parents’ fault for not checking up on them and not taking enough care of them.

I understand that it may trigger you and may be a sensitive topic, but it’s not our problem. I don’t want to sound rude, but it’s honestly not our problem. We can create, post, and discuss about whatever we want as long as it’s not harming anyone directly. If it makes you uncomfortable, just block us. It is not up to us to create content that you find enjoyable or at least decent. It’s our posts, our accounts, our lives. We don’t hurt you on purpose.

Don’t say “but it teaches children to behave badly because they saw in a fanfiction it’s okay to be abusive or be fondled by adults!” just no. As I said, the parents should be more responsible with their children and check up on them whenever possible (not as in “spying your child every time you’ve got the opportunity” but you get my point). Also, if you really need to believe that everything displayed in fanfictions is normal/healthy, then you should get proper education.

I am myself a pro shipper, and while I’m not that hardcore of a fan, I still had previous experiences with angry and frustrated antis.

I know it will make me seem like I’m complaining or anything, but this will be an easier way I can guarantee you that people like these exist, since it was in my own experience.

I once wrote a fanfiction that implied pro shipping. I did put warnings in the description and before the story began, but I see that it was useless because people prefer to get triggered and shocked than read the description and pay attention to the warning so they can insult the living shit out of me later on. The next day, I woke up with 20+ hate comments and death threats in the comments.

All of them were horrible, it made me feel like shit and made me wonder why people are like that. Luckily, after a hour or two, I calmed down and realized that I shouldn’t stress on people like these so much. I should take this bad experience and make it something good to teach other people, something that I can give to other people so they can learn from my experience. I was stronger than before. (as cringe as it sounds lol)

At that moment, I realized that people like that barely even care about the real “issue” here. They only see it as a chance to bully someone without looking bad in front of other people. They are so sucked up in their own mind that they think what they’re doing is right.

People like that are the worst. Their morality is corrupted.

Because, their morals is like: it’s not okay to write things like that, but it’s okay to send death threats and bully them”

Don’t get me wrong, it’s completely fine to dislike a ship! I dislike some ships too, but that doesn’t give me the right to go and jump on them like a wild animal.

Not all antis are mean, but most of them are like that. It’s okay to not like something, but don’t make a mess out of it.

Now here are a few examples of frustrated and crazy antis.

Hell, they are so annoying when they put heart emojis at the end of their comment so they can make themselves look quirky and cool. Disgusting, that’s all I have to say about this kind of people.

If you really believe someone is doing something wrong, approach them in a gentle manner and talk respectfully towards them.

I’m sorry if I sounded rude in this post, and remember that you should look in other perspectives too, not in only yours. Even if someone does something wrong (but pro shipping is not the case), then explain to them what they’re doing wrong, not fuck them up.

Thank you for taking your time to read this.

If you have any questions, just comment on this post or message me privately.

(Yes, I edited this post because I have mistaken the difference between “problematic ship” and “pro ship” and fixed a few typos. Don’t worry, my points in this post are still the same and I fully mean them.”

#pro ship #proship #pro-ship #proshipping #pro-shipping #sebaciel #sebastian x ciel #Illumi x Killua #illukillu #bakugo x deku #bkdk #pro ship safe #proship safe #hisogon #hisoka x gon

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ourmiraclealigner · 3 years

Text

Easy Co. Reacts- Pregnancy

gif not mine! credit to owner

request: @captaintrissy

taglist: @hellitwasyoufirstsergeant @mavysnavy @ivy-miranda-2390 @ya-yeeteth @rayofshanshine @primusk @punkgeekchic @inglourious-imagines @wexhappyxfew @vintagelavenderskies @easy-company-tradition @meteora-fc @teenmagazines @order-of-river-phoenix @contrabandhothead

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Richard Winters:

- When Easy Company gets word that you’re pregnant, you’re flooded with congratulations and gifts.

- It seems every man under Winter’s command sent something, making you happy, knowing how much he’s loved and how great of a man he is.

- He’s empathetic and wants to understand and feel everything you do.

- So, Richard is up when you are, no matter the time.

- Once, when you couldn’t sleep because of how much the baby was kicking, he rubbed your stomach, trying to soothe the baby so you could get some much-needed rest.

- “You need to go to sleep, sweetheart.” He mumbles to your stomach, his fingers drawing light patterns into your skin. “You’re keeping your mommy awake, and she needs sleep.”

- He’ll stay like that, not falling asleep until he’s sure that you’re sleeping peacefully.

Lewis Nixon:

- You becoming pregnant would be the best thing that could happen to Lewis.

- It opens his eyes and helps him realize he needs to beat his alcoholism if he wants you and your baby in his life.

- A family with you is everything he could ever want, and he doesn’t want a child to grow up around alcohol.

- It was hard, but Lew knew it would be worth it, so he stayed strong, distracting himself by decorating the nursery and buying baby clothes.

- He wants your child to have all of the educational, financial, and business privileges and opportunities he had and knows he could never give them that if he stayed on the road, he was on.

- He feels content, ready to start this new chapter of his life with you.

- “You know we’ll have the cutest baby, right? Look at us.” He’ll say jokingly, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into his side.

Ron Speirs:

- Ron is surprisingly excited.

- He already has a son, so you’re surprised at how doting he becomes.

- He didn’t get to be there when his past wife was pregnant or when his son was born, so this is as new to him as it is to you.

- All he wants to do is take care of you; doing everything he can to make sure you’re comfortable.

- He has a little fear that you won’t work out like his last relationship, but he doesn’t show it, not wanting to ruin either of your happiness.

- He knows deep down that that would never be the case, so he distracts himself by rubbing your stomach, smiling every time he feels the baby kick.

- He’ll lean down, pressing a light kiss to the spot he felt the kick before mumbling, “Are you trying to say ‘hi’ to daddy?”

Eugene Roe:

- Eugene finds it hard to be excited when you tell him.

- It’s not that he doesn’t want to start a family with you or that he doesn’t think he’ll be a good father, it’s neither of those.

- He knows that the world is challenging and painful, and he knows he can’t protect his child from everything.

- He doesn’t ever want his child to experience the pain of war or see the things he saw, but he knows that it’s out of his control.

- His heart breaks as he sits out on the porch, beer in his hand, as he stares out into the lawn, lost in thought.

- He thinks about every cut, scrape, fear he won’t be able to protect them from, and he hates how helpless it makes him feel.

- He can’t stand the thought of someone not being able to save his child, just as he wasn’t able to save so many sons years ago.

George Luz:

- George is the most excited out of everyone.

- He does not doubt that he’ll be a fantastic father, as he’s always been great with children.

- It doesn’t matter what gender your child is, he’s excited to start a family with you.

- His favorite thing to do is decorate the nursery.

You spend weeks together deciding the theme and another few weeks painting and assembling furniture.

- Before he goes to bed, he’ll stand in the doorway, looking in and imagining your baby sleeping peacefully in the crib.

- Before your first child is even born, he’s already planning your second one.

Joe Liebgott:

- Joe wants lots of children, so of course, he’s happy when you tell him you’re pregnant.

- But, Joe gets frustrated easily, and because of your changing and amplified hormones, you fight a lot more than he intends.

- He always feels guilty because he understands that you can’t control it, and he doesn’t want to add to your stress.

- He’ll leave before it gets too bad, face flushed as he runs a hand through his hair, the sidewall illuminated by the street lamps.

- He finds his way to the grocery store, picking up flowers and some of the things you mentioned you were craving as his apology.

- He walks home, puppy dog eyes and all, as he presents the things he bought, looking down at the ground as he mumbles a string of apologies.

- “I’ll run you a bath too, okay? Does that sound good?” He asks as he starts to rub your shoulders.

Don Malarkey:

- Your pregnancy is a great source of stress and anxiety for Don.

- It’s not that he isn’t happy- he is, he’s just unsure of what having a child entails for him and your relationship.

- He goes to his siblings and friends for advice and spends a lot of time wracking his brain as he tries to remember the things he loved to do as a child.

- He wants your child to have a better life than he could have ever dreamt of having, so he starts working more, not wanting you or your child ever to have to worry about money.

- When he finally gets home, he’s exhausted, gently climbing into bed next to you.

- When he feels you stir, he’ll press a kiss to the back of your shoulder before spooning you, hands resting on your stomach.

- “How was your day, honey?” He’ll ask sleepily, eyes closed as he hangs onto every word you say.

Chuck Grant:

- Chuck is the most patient out of everyone.

- He knows it’s what you deserve after how patient and supportive you were during his recovery.

- He never complains or lets himself get frustrated, knowing his support and love is the best thing he could give you.

- He’s a little worried about his arm, saddened by the fact that he might not be able to feel your baby in his left arm or that he’ll somehow manage to hurt them.

- With reassurance, though, those thoughts slowly start to disappear and are replaced with a strong love for your unborn child.

- You spend many nights laying in bed, talking about what you think your baby will look like and how they’ll act.

- “I hope they have your eyes.” He’ll mumble as he stares up at the ceiling, hand running through your hair as your head rests on his chest. “You have the prettiest eyes.”

Floyd Talbert:

- It took you and Floyd a few years to decide to start trying for a child, but you wanted to make sure you were both ready.

- You started with a dog, raising and training it together, wanting to see how well you worked together, and you both wanted to become more responsible.

- So, when you finally became pregnant, there was no worry between you two, as you knew it was the right time.

- Floyd built the crib himself, spending weeks outside trying to perfect it.

- He was proud and knew it was perfect for your baby, a smile wide on his face when he saw the mattress, pillows, and blankets on it.

- He was there every step of the way, never complaining about being tired or annoyed when you needed something.

- He held your hair back during morning sickness, made and bought everything you craved, and massaged your back and feet every night, knowing the toll this was taking on your body.

Shifty Powers:

- Ever since he could remember, Shifty wanted to be a father.

- So, to say he was excited was the understatement of the year.

- He has everything planned out from their birthdays to holidays, to what games he’ll play with them when the weather is nice, even when it’s raining or snowing.

- He’s funny, kind, patient, and energetic, so there’s no worry about what kind of parent he’ll be.

- It’s like a dream come true for him, and it becomes the only thing he talks about at work or around town.

- It seems like every time you go out, someone new congratulates you, and you always wonder how they know.

- He’s always coming home, taking out a wrinkled piece of paper and reading off the names he thought about while at work.

Bill Guarnere:

- Bill has seen his fair share of pregnant women because of his sisters, cousins, and aunts, so he isn’t phased at all.

- He is shockingly extraordinarily knowledgeable and helpful and is there for you every step of the way.

- His family is a great support system, and if Bill can’t make it to one of your doctor’s appointments, someone from his family is always with you, holding your hand.

- You’re always getting home-cooked meals brought to your house, and a few of his sisters will come every weekend to clean, so you don’t have to.

- Bill is always home from work on time, asking you how you feel as his hands gently grab your feet to massage them.

- He’s the king of massages, and his hands are always on a sore part of your body.

- He always says it’s the least he could do.

Joe Toye:

- Like Don, Joe is flooded with anxiety and insecurity as soon as you tell him you’re pregnant.

- He’s conflicted- he always wanted to be a father, but now that the time has come, he isn’t sure if he’s ready.

- He’s afraid you’ll leave and that your child will find another man to do things he should be doing.

- Filled with pain and frustration, he keeps himself up at night, hoping your child will love him and understand his struggles with his leg.

- He’s distant and in his head most days, convincing himself of how awful of a father he’ll be.

- It isn’t until you step in, spending the rest of the night reassuring him about the kind of man he is and the father he will be.

- “Are you sure you want to do this with me?” He asks, hand rubbing your own as he looks at you with glassy, pain-filled eyes.

Babe Heffron:

- Babe treats you like you’re made of glass and could break at any second.

- He makes sure he and everyone else is gentle with you and is continuously handing you another glass of water to drink.

- He doesn’t let you do much, always seemingly coming out of nowhere to do the task for you.

- It’s quite wholesome and sweet.

- If you’re standing on your tiptoes trying to get something from the cabinet, he runs in out of nowhere, gently pushing you to the side and grabbing it for you.

- He’ll place it on the counter, slightly out of breath as he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

- “Just call for me baby, I’ll get it for you next time.”

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