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churipu · 7 months

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SURPRISE COOKIES FOR MAMA 𓆝 ⋆｡𖦹°‧

ִ ࣪𖤐 featuring. nanami kento x female! reader

ִ ࣪𖤐 warnings. both of you have a three year old daughter, broken conversations from your daughter bcs she's a kiddo, i'm leaving all of you to name your daughter.

note. midterm week, i'm going to try uploading, but if i don't, just know that it's not me ignoring my wips or you. love you all mwah <33

"this me!" (daughter) pointed at an old picture of . . . a young you with a blue thin strap floral sun dress posing cutely in front of the camera — a big smile on your face, showing off your pearly whites, "i pretty."

nanami who had his back leaning on the couch could only muster out a soft chuckle, he had his hand on the young girl's small waist to hold her up right; preventing a tumble or two, "that's mama. she looks lovely, doesn't she?"

(daughter) craned her head up to face nanami, her e/c doe eyes blinking, ears unbelieving that the portrait was her mother, "mama? no, this me! i so pretty," she pointed her chubby finger towards the portrait, which is undeniably almost as big as she is.

"mhm, that's mama," nanami caressed his daughter's head lovingly, "you do look a lot like mama, you know?" he whispers, eyeing the portrait (daughter) had laying on her small lap.

half a decade ago — nanami told himself that he isn't fit to be a family man; he swore the both of you talked about kids, and how you'd both wait at least until later on into the marriage. but (daughter) was a surprise pregnancy, and the best thing that has ever happened to the both of you.

"this no mama, this me papa," (daughter) pouts, her soft lips puckering out slightly.

nanami used his free hand to flip the photo album, showing a picture of (daughter) as a newborn. a pink colored bandana around her small head, eyes shut in content, "this is you the day you were born," he cooed out, letting his daughter take in the picture.

what a bundle of joy she is. nanami remembered every second he spent inside the delivery room by your side — letting you dig your fingers inside his flesh, because he knew the pain that you were going through at that moment couldn't compare to anything else that he was feeling. all he cared about was you and his daughter.

"this me?" (daughter)'s meek voice resounds. nanami nodded, eyes gazing into his daughter's doe ones, "i so pretty."

nanami smiled warmly, "yes, you are pretty, just like mama," he compliments; pinching her chubby cheeks gently, "it still surprises me how you're an exact copy of your mama . . ." he pats her head, his palm engulfing her whole head.

(daughter) nods her head vigorously, "mama and me twins!" she cheers happily, kicking her feet.

the male chuckles, "mhm, twins," he wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her up — standing as he puts the picture album on top of the coffee table that sat in the middle of your living room, "mama's coming home soon."

"we take cookies out of cooler, papa," (daughter) pats her father's cheeks gently before wrapping an arm around his neck to hook herself close to nanami, "warm for mama."

nanami vaguely remembered the day he passed by a baking class near his office. where he first saw you, holding onto a young boy's hand — no younger than six years of age, guiding him to whisk what seemed to be cake batter. he stood out of the glass pane, staring into the class for at least the next three minutes out of his twenty-four hours just to look at you.

he thought you looked pretty (and the display cake looked pretty as well, but that was besides the point).

but he never saw you again until three months later at the same place, and you noticed him. surprising. considering he was staring yet again for the second time. but he didn't think that you'd go out your way to talk to him right at that moment — and he was thankful you did.

"mhm, we're going to warm it up for mama," with ease, nanami opened the cooler and grabbed a plate of messily made classic chocolate chip cookies wrapped with saran wrap. (daughter) contributed to most of the procedure, and nanami thought it was the third most beautiful thing besides you and her. he's a proud dad.

the process of warming the cold cookies was short — with (daughter) prepped on top of the counter, with nanami's arms right by her sides. the two of them smiling at each other in silence, waiting for the oven to let out the satisfying 'ding!', hopefully before you came through the door.

unfortunately, things don't always go the way he wanted. and there you were, with your usual (color) coat slung over your arm, heaving out an exhausted sigh, mumbling out a soft, "i'm home."

(daughter)'s head turn to face the door, eyes widening in panic as she then faced nanami, "mama home, papa," she whispers, covering her mouth to hold back a loud giggle.

nanami nuzzled his nose into hers, "want to go hide from mama?"

the young girl nods her head, almost immediately wrapping her arms around her father's neck, "go go go, papa, hide, hide!" she whispers, giggling as she fit her small face into the crook of nanami's neck.

nanami laid a hand behind his daughter's head, he passed by you who had just walked through the short hall leading towards the living room, sending out a slight signal through his eyes as he walks into (daughter)'s sage colored room. he laid the young girl down onto the rugged floor, "go go, hide from mama."

the girl wasted no time scurrying under her bed, giggling softly. on the other hand, nanami walked out of her room with a small smile, approaching you.

"something smells good," you greet the male, opening your arms for a hug. i mean — what else do you need after a long day of work besides a warm hug from your husband?

nanami's arms felt like a blanket engulfing your body, he buckled his knees slightly to press a short kiss on your lips, "(daughter) has your baking abilities, 'm not surprised. good day at work?"

you nod, "tiring day, a boy spilt heavy cream all over the floor and his mother blamed us for it," nanami's face hardened a bit after hearing your story, "she practically went on a cursing spree in front of the kids, the cops had to restrain her."

the male grazed his finger on your cheek, "i'm sorry about that, she didn't hurt you, did she?"

you shook your head, "no worries, where's my baby, hm?"

nanami pinched your nape gently, "she wanted to surprise you with her cookies, she's in her room hiding. go see her and i'll be there with the cookies, yes?"

"you're too nice to me," you jokingly said.

"just to you," he rolled his eyes, brushing his lips over the hollow of your nose, "go, go. she's waiting for you."

you pulled yourself away from his embrace, putting your coat on top of the kitchen's counter before sauntering over to (daughter)'s room, knocking on her door. which resulted in an indubitable string of laughter from your own blood and flesh from under the bed, "baby? where're you?"

her soft and hushed giggles didn't stop when you step inside her room, "are you . . ." you pretended to open the closet, "here!"

and (daughter) stifled back a laugh when you failed to find her. and the next attempt, you squat down to eye under the bed, "there you are," her loud laughs finally chimed out, "give mama a hug, please?"

the young carbon copy of you crawled out from under the bed, immediately rushing to your lap to give you a warm hug, "i miss mama . . ." she pressed a kiss to your cheek, "mama miss me?"

you cradled her body back and forth, "mama misses you so much."

"i have surprise for mama," (daughter) abruptly pulled back from the hug, "surprise cookies for mama!"

the scent of chocolate entered your nostrils as nanami walked inside the room with a plate of freshly warmed chocolate chip cookies, "it's not a surprise anymore when you tell mama about it, isn't it?" he asks with a slight chuckle.

"'ts okay, mama still surprised. i bake cookies with papa," (daughter)'s eyes twinkled with happiness when nanami laid the plate down on the floor, "i bake cookies like mama. try try mama!"

and so you did, "'ts so yummy, good job, baby!"

nanami tugged on your arm towards him, slithering an arm around your waist, "'f course she did, you're her mama, y'know?" the male leaned in to place a short kiss to the tip of your nose.

(daughter) shrieks out, "papa cooties!"

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #fluff #nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #female reader #nanami x reader #nanami fluff #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento oneshot #nanami oneshot

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megalony · 1 month

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You're Staying Right Here

This is a new Eddie Diaz imagine based on a few requests I've merged together. I hope you will all like it.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: While (Y/n) is out with her and Eddie's newborn, she bumps into the 118 just as they get shot at by a sniper. And the team have to take her to hospital and try to keep her and the baby safe.

Enjoy.

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Pausing in her tracks, (Y/n) leaned her arms forward on the pram and squinted when she looked across the road. Her eyes danced across the writing on the side of the two fire trucks, trying to make out what station they were from.

Her lips curved into a smile when she looked at the truck at the far right.

118.

Both her husband and her brother were at work today, so chances were that they were right across the road at that scene.

"Shall we go see daddy and uncle Buck?" She turned her attention down to the newborn in the pram, smiling wider when Tate's mitten-covered hand moved to brush against her button nose.

No doubt she would wake up the moment (Y/n) crossed the road and the newborn realised she was surrounded by her favourite people.

Eddie was enamoured by his little girl. He had only just gone back to work this week and already he was finding it hard to be away from his family for so long. He just wanted to be back home with them all with Tate in his arms. And Buck was always eager to try and get cuddles with his niece. Whenever he visited, he swooped Tate up into his arms whether she was awake or not and he didn't fear waking her because he would just cradle her until she went back to sleep.

(Y/n) turned to the left and crossed the road, aiming for the truck parked up on the side of the street. There was another truck just in front, but it was from a different station that (Y/n) wasn't familiar with. She had only met a handful of people from other stations when they had parties or when Eddie came home saying he'd done a shift with a transfer who he got along well with.

If the team were busy or right in the middle of a call then (Y/n) would carry on her way and head back home. But she knew it was worth searching just to see if they could catch a glimpse of Eddie at work.

She spotted him instantly.

He had his back to her, but (Y/n) knew his frame in the pitch black, she could pinpoint her husband anywhere. Eddie had his hands on his hips which were cocked out to one side and the pose showed off his broad, tense shoulders that could be set against a ruler.

He was wearing his button up shirt today with the long sleeves that looked like they were cutting tight around his biceps and looked a bit snug on his back.

"Hard at work, I see." (Y/n) pushed the pram so it was resting near the door of the truck, shaded from the mid-morning sun.

Her head tilted to one side and her smile brightened when she watched Eddie's shoulders jerk up before he spun round on his heels to face her. His brows rose and a wide smirk curved at Eddie's lips as he moved forward, arms stretched out ready to embrace his wife.

His hands found her hips and he reeled her into his chest that felt had and tense beneath her hands. But Eddie's expression was as soft as ever as he let his eyes roam up and down his wife before he leaned down to taste her lips in a kiss. He felt (Y/n)'s hands roam up his chest to hold onto his shoulders, steadying herself against him as he leaned down into her, almost knocking her off her feet.

"Hey amor." He murmured softly against her lips, giving her hips a tight squeeze when he felt her hand move to drag along the side of his neck, leaving shivers in her wake.

He dared to swoop back in for another kiss, gliding his tongue across her bottom lip until Buck's voice caused him to grunt and pull back with his temple resting down against (Y/n)'s.

"You gonna put my sister down so I can say hi?"

Eddie felt Buck pat him on the shoulder as he walked behind him and stood somewhat impatiently at their side, hands on his hips sassily.

With a huff, Eddie let go of (Y/n) and took a careful step back so Buck could lean down and pull her into a sideways hug. But when Eddie turned to the right, the grin was back on his face and his teeth sank down into his bottom lip when he looked down into the pram.

"Hi baby," He cooed, reaching down to pick Tate up when her big round eyes started to flutter open.

He lifted her up and carefully snuggled her up against his chest, tilting backwards to keep her settled against him. He slowly carded his fingers up and down the back of her head and neck and he pressed a few wet kisses against her temple. He loved the way her lips moved and popped against his chest like she was trying to give him kisses.

He slowly turned around so he was facing his family and he couldn't refrain from rolling his eyes when he saw Buck grinning across at him. He had stolen (Y/n) for a hug and now he was clearly eyeing up Eddie's baby girl to try and take her for a cuddle too.

"How'd it go this morning?" His lips stayed against Tate's forehead but his eyes looked up through his lashes to lock with his wife.

"No more stitches." (Y/n) spoke softly with a grin as her hand moved down to press over her lower abdomen.

If they had been at home, (Y/n) would have pulled the top of her leggings down to let Eddie see the scar that now tainted her skin and show that she had healed 'perfectly' according to the midwife.

They hadn't planned for a C-section with Tate, but a day into labour, Tate had wriggled around so much the cord got wrapped around her throat. They needed her out as soon as possible as she was distressed and close to strangling herself, so off for an emergency C-section they went. It gave (Y/n) a row of stitches very far down on her stomach, but it was a relief to finally have them out.

It meant she didn't keep trying to itch them or catch them on her clothes and the general uncomfortableness was gone now. The only problem was (Y/n) still couldn't lift anything too heavy and she couldn't strain or stretch down too far.

Which was the reason why Maddie- and almost everyone else on the team- had all agreed they would keep popping round to make sure (Y/n) was okay and see if she needed any help.

Buck gave (Y/n)'s shoulder a squeeze before he moved towards Eddie with his arms held out expectingly.

"Can I have a hold?"

"Nope." Eddie kept his lips against Tate's head while her little mitten-covered hand started to bat and tap against his chest. He had only just gotten to hold his daughter and he knew they would be heading back to the station soon, he wanted a big cuddle before he had to say goodbye and let her go.

"Excuse me, I wanna hold the little lady."

"You can hold her later." they both knew Eddie was only joking, but he made no attempt to hand his daughter over just yet. He kissed the top of her head again and gently began to rock her up and down against his chest.

"So, where are you two headed?" Both Chimney's hands fell to his hips and his fingers began to tap along with his foot beating out a rhythm against the pavement. His eyes dancing between the two squabbling men who were like his brothers, and (Y/n) who was watching them all with amusement lighting up her eyes.

This call had been surprisingly quick and now all of them could head back to their station. No one would be opposed to (Y/n) coming back to the station with Tate for a while. Especially since Hen and Bobby would most likely be on shift by now. They hadn't been as early as Eddie and Evan this morning and Chimney had already been on shift for two hours.

"For a coffee." (Y/n) grinned and dragged her hand along the back of her neck. The stitches being removed had made her feel a bit queasy and she felt the need to go and get a drink to liven up before she took Tate home.

Eddie leaned his shoulders back against the truck, being careful to keep Tate settled on his chest with a smile on his lips and a glowing look in those dark eyes.

"We serve coffee at the station." He grinned, flashing his pearly whites when (Y/n)'s expression softened and her teeth bit down on her bottom lip. "You wanna come back to the station with daddy, hm?" He murmured against the top of Tate's head, taking the little gurgling noise she made as an answer.

He didn't want to say goodye to either of his girls just yet and he knew everyone at the station would be fawning over Tate when they saw her.

She had time. The only other pressing thing (Y/n) had to do today would be to pick Chris up from school, but that was late on this afternoon. She had a good few hours to kill before then and a coffee with the team- and a cuddle with her husband- sounded good.

"You do, well-"

Whatever (Y/n) was about to say faded out into silence in comparison with the gunshots that rang out through the air.

Everyone froze.

Eddie's eyes stayed locked on his wife. His arms suddenly tensed, pinning his daughter tighter to his chest as his fingers scrunched up into her onesie like he was afraid she was going to slip out of his arms.

That noise sent him back years. It had been so long since Eddie had heard the sound of a gunshot in person that he had forgotten the resounding bang that followed it. He forgot the way it made him wince when he wasn't expecting it and how much it rattled him when he wasn't in a battle zone.

His muscles contracted and his shoulders pushed back into the truck when a spray of blood splattered across his face and sprinkled over him as if someone had driven through a puddle next to him. He couldn't help the way he flinched, nor the way his lips curled as a disgruntled noise got stuck at the back of his throat.

For a second, when the blood hit, his eyes closed. But the moment they opened, it was as if his whole world had fallen apart.

His eyes locked on (Y/n) and as all the blood drained down from his head to his gut, Eddie felt his vision becoming dark. He had tunnel vision that focused on his wife and caused an aura to glow around her, nothing else visible and nothing else mattered. Except for his wife, and the blood soaking into her chest.

She didn't quite seem to recognise that the blood covering Eddie was her own because something horrid and frightened dwelled in her eyes when she looked at him. It was as if the world was crumbling and she thought Eddie or Tate had been the ones to get hurt.

Then she stumbled. Her feet slipped, her upper body tilted backwards and she went down to the floor as blood trickled down her shirt and out the entrance wound in her back, creating a dark puddle on the ground beneath her.

Static tore through Eddie's ears and his body shuddered back against the truck when another bullet pelted through the air and hit the truck, only two inches away from his head. But the thought of getting hit by a bullet didn't frighten Eddie as much as the thought of another one getting (Y/n)- or Tate.

His head snapped down so his lips could merge with the top of Tate's head and his trembling arms curved round her better so his arms engulfed her. He couldn't have the shooter- whoever and wherever they were- trying to aim for her.

He slid down the truck and twisted to the right, hunching over so Tate was between him and the ground making her as less of a target as possible. He could feel each cry and scream that she belted out becoming muffled in his shirt and vibrating through his chest, but it didn't matter. He had to keep her safe even if that meant frightening her.

"Get down!"

He could feel tears welling up in his eyes as a fire raged within his stomach and set alight to his heart and lungs. It was flowing through his veins, firing him up and making him feel like he was about to combust like the stars Buck was always telling them random facts about.

He couldn't have Tate getting hurt too. She was barely two and a half weeks old. A bullet would kill her. Any fragments that hit her if Eddie got shot would kill her. If Eddie got shot or pushed or fell down, Tate would be in trouble too because she was in his arms.

Panicked tears slid down Eddie's face as he breathed harshly, trying to control each breath that fanned against the top of the newborn's head. He stayed hunched over while Tate kicked and screamed, wriggling horribly to the point he had to hold her even tighter so he didn't drop her.

He began to shuffle to the right, keeping pressed up against the truck for some sort of cover and protection.

When he reached Buck and Chimney who were trying to shield behind the truck door, Eddie crouched in front of Buck and moved his arms out.

"Take her." He hissed as if the words were venom on his tongue. He had to go get (Y/n) and he couldn't do that with his daughter in his arms. Buck needed to hold her and keep her safe. He could see the panic flood Buck's eyes as he shakily took hold of his niece just as Eddie sternly demanded for him to protect her.

Eddie watched the way Buck's arms tightened around his niece, encasing her to his chest with one large hand curled around the back of her head for some sort of protection. He hunkered down, curling over so his entire frame was surrounding Tate like a blanket and he let Chimney grab his arm and drag him a bit further back for better protection.

They needed cover. They needed protection. They needed help.

Eddie gave the pram beside him a rough shove, watching the wheels spin out of control but it went in the direction he wanted it to. The pram moved towards Buck. It would give them a bit more cover, it would act as a shield from anymore bullets.

"(Y/n)-"

Her name barely scraped past his lips before he morphed into a scream. Someone grabbed him by the back of the neck. A rough chest barrelled into his side and tackled him to the floor.

He could feel whoever it was trying to pin him down, hissing in his ear to stay down, that they were in the firing line, as if Eddie didn't already know that.

Eddie gave way to the petrified scream that took all the air from his lungs. When he dragged in another breath, he went right back to screaming until he was red in the face and the vein was popping up the side of his neck.

His nails clawed at the tarmac road until blood started to scrape along the pad of his fingers.

(Y/n)'s name morphed into another scream but when he tried to scoot closer to her, his companion laid more on his back and pinned him down, still holding the back of his head to keep him looking down.

"Shots fired! Repeat, we're being shot at! Someone's hit, back up needed now. Send help!" The Captain from the 189 yelled into the radio pinned to his shoulder as he cowered down near Buck and Chimney.

A shiver tore through Buck and he cringed when he felt his niece beginning to scream into his chest. He could feel her mouth and nose pressing into his shirt and he made sure not to hold her any tighter, he didn't want to suffocate her. And it wasn't as if her screams were going to cause a problem, everyone was shouting, yelling and screaming their lungs out. Tate adding to the mix wasn't going to make a difference.

His hands shook as he cradled the back of her neck and hugged her into his chest. He could feel her tiny fists bashing into his chest and her feet kicking up into his stomach but he tensed his arms to hold her close.

She wasn't getting hurt on his watch; he wouldn't allow it.

Eddie could barely hear a thing, but he could feel his senses dwindling out and all he could focus on was his sights. His eyes were locked firmly on his wife. He could see her lips moving and Eddie wasn't sure whether it was his very acitve imagination or whether he was seeing it or not, but he was sure she was saying his name.

He thrust his elbow back into the teammate beside him, he screamed and roared until he managed to roll under the truck. He was getting his wife, he had to get to her and she was going to be taken to the hospital whether the shooter liked it or not.

His sleeves scraped against the road as he scuffled and shimmied beneath the truck that was barely raised enough for his large frame to fit beneath. He could feel his chin scraping along the floor so he didn't whack his head on the underside of the truck.

"(Y/n)! (Y/n)!"

He poked his head out from under the engine and took a quick look round for the shooter but he couldn't see anything. His vision was blurred and hazy and his eyes were moving too rapidly to take anything in. All he could see was (Y/n).

Blood was forming a river beneath her chest and her dusty blue top was turning black from the rouge blood dribbling down it. She had been shot in the chest, but she was still conscious. Her head slowly lolled to the right to look at Eddie and he saw the manic fear and pain dwelling in her eyes as his name bubbled past her lips.

"I've got you baby. I- I'm here."

He didn't waste time worrying about the best way to grab her and reel her under the safety of the truck.

With what little energy he could muster, Eddie scrunched his fingers into the back of her collar near her neck and started to pull. He yanked her close with a pulse of strength he didn't expect and his left hand planted down on the road to hold himself up.

A horrid scream bubbled past his lips as he yanked her close and scratched his knees to shuffle backwards. The moment she was beneath the truck with him, Eddie pressed his wet lips against her temple before he continued to crawl backwards, something he wasn't accustomed to doing very often.

Tears blurred down (Y/n)'s face and her wet lips parted to let out a tepid, meek cry when the tarmac scraped against her back that felt like it was on fire.

Tears blurred Eddie's vision. His arm was shaking and the muscles were tightening from dragging her with one arm, but he couldn't stop now. He had to keep moving, they had to get her in the truck and down to the hospital before she bled out here on the road and they lost her.

"I've got you amor."

When Eddie came out from under cover of the truck, he shifted into a crouching position and slipped both hands beneath (Y/n)'s arms. His nose scrunched up and he choked when (Y/n) screamed the moment he pulled her up. He had to. He couldn't get hold of her or move her any faster in any other position.

"Sorry baby, sorry, it's okay." Words tumbled past his lips and once (Y/n) was away from the truck, Eddie shifted positions.

He slipped her left arm over the back of his neck, one hand on her back and the other arm beneath her knees and hoisted her up into his embrace.

"Is Tate okay?" Eddie's voice dropped down two octaves as he rasped, his wild eyes scouring around while his head jerked forward when another bullet cut through the air.

"S-she's here, she's safe." Buck's voice had never sounded so broken and hollow before and if Eddie had the time, he would of been moved to tears and tried to hug his brother in law. But there was no time. He needed his family in the truck now so they could get to the hospital. He wasn't letting his wife bleed out in his arms like this.

"Then get her in the truck. Now!" Eddie ticked his head to the side in direction of the truck. They had to move, someone had to drive this thing and take them to the hospital. He wasn't waiting here like a sitting duck and letting his wife die in the street.

Trembling took over (Y/n)'s body and she could feel her head spinning around her. She could barely register Eddie's voice in her ear telling her to keep her eyes on him. She just wanted the pain to stop.

Eddie watched Buck keep his frame low, both hands cradling his niece as he climbed up into the back of the truck while someone else from the other team scrambled to get in the front.

He had to straighten up to keep proper hold of (Y/n), leaning over made him unbalanced and risked dropping (Y/n) before he'd got her in the truck. His teeth ground together and he turned to the side and managed to hobble up the steps into the truck while (Y/n) writhed and gasped in his arms.

"Sorry baby," He murmured as he hurried into the back and carefully lowered (Y/n) down across a row of seats. They had no ambulance nearby that they could confiscate, no proper medical equipment in here and no gurney but they would have to make do. They had to keep (Y/n) alive.

Her body writhed and jolted up when she was placed down but her nails scratched at Eddie's bicep until he grabbed her hand and held it to his chest.

Relief overtook Chimney after he climbed in with them and noticed the medic bag was still sat on the backseat where he had left it earlier, unused and ready for action.

"T-Tate," (Y/n) gasped, trying to circle her eyes back around to get her vision focused on her husband but her eyes wouldn't stay still. She couldn't do anything but let them roll and twist her head from left to right, writhing in absolute agony.

"She's here, s-she's okay amor, Buck's got her."

"I've got her." Buck repeated quietly, reaching out to press a trembling hand down on his sister's shoulder while he moved his other arm to indicate to the screaming newborn.

He had his niece in his arms and she was safe and so far unharmed. The only problem was how frightened she was and how distressed this was going to make her, but they could worry about that later. As long as she was unharmed and safe within their sights, it would be alright.

Eddie leaned forward on his heels with the soles of his boots pressed into the bottom of the opposite seats, his large frame didn't cramp well in the footwell of the truck like this. His fingers curled around (Y/n)'s hand and he held it against his chest like he wanted (Y/n) to feel his horrid heartbeat that was pounding through his body like it was about to explode.

They left the truck door swinging open as the driver took a sharp turn and jolted the truck to life, juttering down the street to get away from the scene.

Buck slumped down on the end seat stuck between the window and (Y/n) with her head nudging and pushing against his trembling thigh. Every part of him was shaking and he leaned forward, trying to keep out of range in case they were still being shot at. And he rearranged Tate in his arms so she was cuddled into his chest again.

His hand curled around the back of her head and he slowly started to rock back and forth, quietly humming against her head to keep himself calm and prevent a complete breakdown.

"I'm gonna take a look baby, okay?" Eddie couldn't stop his voice from rattling but no one seemed to care.

He held a trembling hand out towards Chimney who rummaged through the bag and handed him a pair of scissors. Eddie made quick work of cutting up the centre of (Y/n)'s shirt and dragging each torn piece across her shoulders so her chest was exposed to his eyes.

The white bra she was wearing was now blood red. Eddie would never be able to look at her in red lingerie the same way again. The gunshot wound was an inch above her bra on her left side and it was pouring blood like a tap. Blood coated all her chest, trickled down her abdomen and started to pool beneath her on the seats. It was lathered all over Eddie's hands, arms and chest and he didn't like it one bit.

A horrid grunt left (Y/n)'s lips when Eddie took a handful of gauze and forced it down against the wound so deeply it was like he was trying to give her CPR. Her chest shuddered and pushed up from the seats and her nails scratched into the back of Eddie's hand as she screamed. Spit bubbled past her lips and her blurring eyes finally managed to lock on her husband.

He leaned over her and pressed a shaking, bloodied hand against the side of (Y/n)'s face. His thumb smoothed over her cheek and his fingers fluttered against her jaw and lips. He tried to smile but he couldn't manage it.

"E-Eddie…"

"I'm here baby, just focus on breathing for me, okay?" He swiped his sleeve beneath his nose and rubbed at his reddened eyes before his free hand reached out to brace on the seat when they took a sharp swerve to the right.

"I l-love you," (Y/n) pushed her head back into the seat and nudged against Buck's thigh to get her brother's attention. "Love y…you all,"

Tears flushed down Buck's face as he sniffed and sucked his lower lip between his teeth to stop himself from bursting into sobs. She couldn't do that. She couldn't tell them that because that meant she wasn't expecting to live through this.

Buck couldn't be in a world without his sister. He couldn't survive without her. He couldn't live without any of his family. He went each day on shift wondering if something would happen to Bobby, Eddie, Chimney or Hen and how he would cope. He wondered if Maddie would be okay, if history would repeat itself and make him lose her like he almost did when Doug was around. He feared he might lose Chris like he did during the tsunami.

He feared something happening to (Y/n) like the night Eddie rang him in tears, saying (Y/n) was going for an emergency C-section because something was wrong with the baby. But Buck never feared his little sister would get shot, much less when she was with them while they were on shift.

"Don't do that." Eddie's voice snapped Buck out of his thoughts and had him shivering on the spot, but he wasn't talking to him. "You're not leaving me, so don't try and tell me goodbye. You're staying right here, do you hear me?"

The authoritive tone in Eddie's voice made (Y/n)'s head go dizzy and she choked on each breath she took.

He wasn't letting her die, and he wasn't going to crouch here and listen to her try to tell him goodbye. Eddie wasn't ready for that. He wanted decades with (Y/n). They had years and years and years left to be together and he wasn't having any of that time be cut short.

He'd already lost Shannon, and even though they hadn't been together at the time, she was still important to him. He couldn't lose (Y/n) as well.

He'd rather die.

"Go faster!" Pushing up on his knees, Eddie slammed his fist against the roof to urge whoever was driving to put their foot down.

He could feel the amount of blood (Y/n) was losing. He could feel her pulse throbbing against his hand as he tried to imbed the gauze into her skin to prevent the bleeding. If this continued she would have none left in her body and Eddie couldn't lose his wife.

His left hand pressed down harder causing (Y/n) to gurgle and writhe beneath him, but he had to. He had to keep the pressure.

He grazed his free hand across her jaw and his lips grimaced when he realised he'd just left a streak of blood tainting her skin. He lifted his head to look at Buck and his eyes trailed down to look at his daughter who was still screaming up a storm, despite how Buck was rocking her back and forth and trying to shush her the best he could.

But Eddie's attention went right back to (Y/n) when her hand feebly curled around his wrist and she started to pull, sinking her nails into his skin to claw for his attention.

"What, baby?"

"I c- ca…" Her nails scratched deep enough to draw blood around Eddie's wrist and she yanked his hand closer to her chest. Her head pushed back against her brother's leg and her chest lifted up from the seats.

Each breath turned into struggling gasps and her body began to convulse up and down, unable to take in a proper breath. She screwed her eyes shut and tried to still her shaking body when she felt Eddie's free hand hovering over her throat and then moving down to assess her chest.

"Shit, shit her lung's collapsing, she's breathing into her chest cavity."

Eddie turned towards Chimney who was already rattling through the bag to find a puncture needle which Eddie stole from him the moment his fingers curled around it. He had never done this in the ambulance, let alone in the back of a fire truck that was horribly swerving from side to side and shaking like they were driving through an Earthquake.

But he didn't have a choice. If he didn't do this, (Y/n) was going to keep breathing into her chest cavity and both lungs would end up collapsing. She would suffocate and combined with the blood loss, Eddie would surely lose her.

"Keep the pressure."

As soon as Eddie let go of the gauze, Chimney leaned between him and Buck, squashing his frame between them as he stood over Eddie's shoulder and held down on the gauze. He applied the needed pressure which made (Y/n) squirm and choke, but all of them froze when a struggling cough burst past her lips and a bout of blood spewed past her lips.

A quiet "Fuck," spat past Eddie's lips while he tried to steady himself on his knees and lean over (Y/n). He pressed down on two of her ribs and with a deep breath, he punctured the needle into the space between her ribs just a bit further down from her gunshot wound. He saw the moment he had pushed it deep enough because (Y/n)'s chest inflated up and her lung popped back up to maximum capacity again.

Eddie could feel tears spilling down his face when he looked back to his wife's face and saw her still struggling for breath. Blood coating her lips and dribbling down her chin while her hand flailed around to grip his arm.

"We're here!" Chimney jumped down from the truck and slammed his hands against the side of the truck before he pulled the door wider and waved them down.

Buck was next, cradling his niece into the crook of his neck as he clambered down, doing his best to stop from bursting into tears now that Tate had finally ceased crying. Reduced to whimpers and sniffles that choked Buck's heart.

"Okay amor, you're gonna be just fine and you're gonna stay with me, aren't you?"

(Y/n) did her best to nod and hum to let Eddie know she was listening and she understood. She felt him loop her good arm around his neck and once his arms slipped beneath her frame, she became weightless. Her head lolled against his shoulder and she scrunched her fingers tightly into his shirt as he hurried to clamber down from the truck and rush towards the doors to the hospital.

They didn't make it to the doors before a stretcher and a flurry of doctors were surrounding them. Eddie carefully eased his wife down onto the stretcher while a nurse immediately took place applying pressure to the wound and another clipped (Y/n)'s head into a neck brace.

"Keep breathing for me amor, y-you're doing so good." Eddie snatched the oxygen mask from the doctor and placed it over (Y/n)'s lips while his other hand gripped her wrist since she was still holding his shirt.

He could briefly see the boys running after them while he stayed doubled over the stretcher until his groin was pressed into the side and his legs burned from running at an odd angle to be alongside his wife. He didn't think about where they were going or what was happening until they reached the operation unit and a nurse suddenly grabbed him by the shoulders.

"No! No please- I can't leave her!"

He didn't have a choice. Chimney's hands clutched at his shoulders and pulled him backwards while a nurse disconnected (Y/n)'s hand from his shirt and wheeled her away from his sights.

As soon as she was out of his sight, tears overwhelmed his eyes, a sob ransacked his lips and his body started to shake like he was being electrocuted. He coiled his hands to his chest and let his nails scratch into his skin when it felt like his heart was going to give out and end his suffering.

His nails raked along his skin causing deep red indents to appear in their wake but when he twisted round on his heels, his eyes set on Buck. His hands left his skin and his arms stretched out as he gasped for air.

"G-give her to me."

Buck seemed at a loss for words and he seemed uneasy about handing over the little girl who had done wonders for keeping his concentration firm and preventing him from breaking down. But he knew if he didn't hand her over, Eddie was going to be the one suffering a breakdown.

He eased Tate into Eddie's arms, watching Eddie lean his cheek against the top of her head as he continued to silently sob like his heart was physically breaking in his chest.

What was he going to do now?

***

"Dad?" Confusion flooded Chris's voice and his head tilted to one side when he looked into the living room and realised his dad was home early. He had the sudden urge to rush over and bombard him with a hug but when he looked closer, he refrained.

His dad didn't look his usual self. He was slouched in the armchair like he was a wax work about to melt into a puddle. His head was propped up on his hand and Chris took note that his other hand was laid on the arm rest, shaking like a leaf.

His face was burnt red. His eyes were hollow and dark and had deep purple streaks beneath them like he had been shouting- or crying, for hours. And he could see Eddie's leg was stammering up and down, his heel clicking against the floor with every shake of his leg.

Chris felt Carla kiss the top of his head and whisper that she would see him in the morning but he could barely register her leaving and quietly closing the door behind her.

He didn't understand.

His mum was supposed to be picking him up from school today, but when he hurried out of the gates, he found Carla there instead. And all she told him was that there had been a change of plans and she was dropping him off home.

"Dad?" He asked again, his voice hollow and quiet this time as he kicked off his shoes and placed his bag near the door before he dared walk into the living room.

With a deep breath, Eddie pushed forward so he was no longer slouched in the armchair that had comforted him for the last hour. He tried to smile, he really did, but all he could manage was a small twitch of his lips.

He waved his hand out, beckoning Chris over as he got up and sluggishly moved to sit on the sofa instead. He watched Chris plop down next to him on the sofa, both hands gripping the seat as he started to rock back and forth but his eyes were intently focused on his dad.

"Is something wrong?" Chris could feel his heartbeat picking up but once he looked around, he felt a jolt surge through him. "Where's mum and Tate?"

Eddie sat forward on the edge of the seat and hunched over, clicking his spine into place as he did so. His elbows propped up on his thighs and both hands moved to cup his nose and mouth. He took a few calming breaths, willing himself not to have his third panic attack of the day, he couldn't be doing that again, not in front of Chris.

It took a moment for the adrenaline to wear off from his stomach and when it did, he turned to look at his son. He reached across and placed his hand on Chris's knee while his other hand started to rub up and down the back of his neck out of nervous habit.

"Your mum, she visited me at work this morning, and… there, there was an accident."

Eddie didn't want to be doing this.

He had done a speech similar to this when Shannon died. He had never had such a hard job as he did that day when he and (Y/n) sat Chris down and told him Shannon had passed away. He had only just got into a relationship with (Y/n) by that point, but she had been an anchor for both of them, keeping them safe and stopping them from drifting off into the unknown.

He had no idea how to have this conversation or how to speak without bursting into tears. Chimney had to be the one to call Bobby earlier and explain the situation. Buck could barely speak to Maddie on the phone. Maddie couldn't get through the phone call to her parents who actually said they were coming down. Which was a surprise, considering they hadn't come down when (Y/n) gave birth less than three weeks ago.

"An accident?" Hesitation flooded Chris's voice and he found himself leaning into Eddie's side with his cheek resting on his dad's arm.

Tears were already welling up in Eddie's eyes again despite him willing them away and telling himself to be strong, for his son.

"We don't know who, or why," He ran a hand over his face and squeezed Chris's knee. "But someone nearby started to shoot at us, and your mum got hurt."

"Mum got shot?" Chris's voice wavered and tears started to cascade down his face. Both his hands reached out to curl around Eddie's bicep and that was all it took for tears to trace down Eddie's cheeks. He reached his hand out and cupped the back of Chris's head, pulling him closer to he could kiss his curls.

"Yeah, but me and uncle Buck, we got her to hospital. I've been there all afternoon. They took her for an operation, and it went well. She's in the ICU and aunt Maddie's sitting with her now."

"W-will mum be okay?"

"It's gonna take some time, but the doctor thinks she'll be fine. But, but she's really bad at the moment, so uncle Buck and me are gonna take turns getting you from school and staying with you and Tate, okay? Just until mum can come home."

Eddie didn't want to jinx things and tell Chris (Y/n) was going to recover in case something happened. He couldn't take the risk of jumping to conclusions.

She had been in surgery for a good few hours. The bullet was taken out, her lung was patched up and the bleeding was stopped. They got her stable and into the ICU, but it was still early days. (Y/n) needed time to recover, they had to make sure her lung didn't collapse and she didn't get a blood clot in her lung since her lungs weren't working at full capacity yet. And they were getting her on antibiotics to prevent sepsis which was a big worry.

But she was still alive, she hadn't passed away during surgery, she had stayed strong and stayed with them and Eddie couldn't have been more thankful for that. His wife was still here and he was going to sit vigil by her side every day until he could bring her home.

That meant him and Buck taking it in turns to stay the night with Chris and take him to school. They would switch things around so they could both see (Y/n) every day but still look after Chris. He needed to keep routines and they had to keep him calm and look after him while also trying to take care of (Y/n) and Tate at the same time.

"Is Tate okay?"

A tender smile pulled at Eddie's lips and he nodded against the top of Chris's head.

"She's a bit unsettled, but she's completely fine. She's sleeping in my room at the minute."

Eddie carefully removed his arm from Chris's rather tight grip so he could loop his arm around the back of his shoulders instead. He tugged his boy under his arm and let him cuddle up into his chest.

It had felt awful to come home to a quiet home, especially when Eddie's heartstrings were yearning for him to stay at the hospital and be there when (Y/n) woke up, but he couldn't. He had to come home and be here for when Chris got back. He had to tell Chris what had happened and comfort him tonight and then he could go back and see (Y/n) tomorrow morning as soon as he'd taken Chris to school and found someone to watch Tate for a while.

He ran his hand up and down Chris's side while his other hand cupped his face so he could kiss his temple and keep his son as close to his chest as he could manage.

He was glad he'd come home when he did because ti gave him chance to get showered and scrub the blood from his skin. He may have scrubbed a little too hard and scraped off a few layers of his own skin, but he needed all of (Y/n)'s blood washed away. His clothes had gone in the bin, along with Tate's onesie that had been splattered with her mum's blood.

"I wanna see mum." Chris couldn't stop the tears from falling down his face, but he tried his best to hold back his sobs. He clutched at Eddie's chest and tilted his head back to look up at him.

"I-" Eddie didn't want to refuse. He didn't want to say no because he could see the agony swirling around in Chris's eyes. He knew it would do Chris some good to see (Y/n) and know she was alright. It would probably make (Y/n) feel better to see him too.

But he also didn't want to frighten Chris too much, and children weren't supposed to go into the ICU.

"Are you sure?"

"I want mum." His tone was defiant and firm and his chin jutted out as he looked up at Eddie with an expression that matched his dad look for look. And the underlying tone to his voice told Eddie he didn't want to wait until tomorrow. He wanted to go and see (Y/n), now.

"Let me call Buck, see if he can watch Tate, and I'll take you. But it won't be for long, kids aren't allowed in the ICU."

Removing one hand from around Chris, Eddie rummaged around in his pocket for his phone. He had no idea if Buck had actually gone home to change or if he stayed at the hospital. All Eddie knew was that Maddie was at the hospital with (Y/n) at the moment. But if Buck could look after Tate or at least sit in the waiting room with her, then it would give Eddie chance to smuggle his boy into the ICU so they could both see (Y/n).

He unlocked his phone, but his heart caught in his throat when he realised he'd gotten a few messages from Maddie. His phone was still on silent since this morning when he had been on shift.

*She's awake, everything looks good. XX

*Can you come back? She's getting distressed, doctor will sedate her if she won't calm down. Need your help. XX

That was what Eddie had been worried about when he left before (Y/n) woke up. She didn't like hospitals, she was going to be confused and wonder where Eddie and Buck were as they had been with her when she arrived and went for her operation.

The last thing they wanted to do was keep sedating (Y/n) if she got distressed or panicked, it wouldn't be fair to her. And they needed to try and keep her awake to make sure she was alright and she wasn't having any complications from surgery.

Eddie stuffed his phone back in his pocket, kissed the top of Chris's head and pushed up from the sofa.

"Let's get ready. Your mum's awake, and she needs our help."

#imagine #911 imagine #eddie diaz x reader #eddie diaz imagine #eddie x reader #eddie diaz #evan buckley #bobby nash

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hibiscus-percy · 5 months

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Don't imagine Zagreus when Melinoë was born. Don't imagine him seeing her and immediately knowing he would do anything to protect her. Don't imagine him being excited to be a big brother; to give the love and attention and patience he never really had growing up. (Sure, he had Mother Night, but he never understood why his father hardly ever paid attention to him for anything other than to enforce his lessons. Something always felt off..) Don't imagine the joy he felt, posing for that family portrait.

Don't imagine the fear he felt when the House got attacked by Time itself. Don't imagine him doing everything he could to protect his family; his newborn baby sister.

Don't imagine him thinking, for all those years, that he failed.

#shoutout empadanazul for making me think about zagreus #croaky chronos #when i GET YOU chronos #death to chronos #hades game #hades #zagreus #hades 2

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luveline · 1 year

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𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐠𝐧 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧

things aren't the way you planned coming home with your newborn, but you have eddie there to lean on when things get hard (and an unlimited supply of 'munson-style' hugs). requested here. infatuated dad!eddie x mom!reader, 3k.

cw post partum recovery, reader is suffering from some symptoms of post partum depression

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

"You're sure you can manage?" Wayne asks, his voice buzzing down the line.

Eddie peers out of the kitchen into the living room quietly. You're sitting on the sofa in a shape that can't be comfortable considering your recent stitches, the baby on your thighs where you've brought them together, your hands delicately posed on either side of his head.

"I think so," Eddie says, answering Wayne's questions with honesty. "She's feeling a little better today."

"It's hard, Eds. You take care of her and call me if you need help, okay? I'm proud of you. Both of you."

It catches Eddie off guard for a moment. He's done enough crying lately, clearing his throat to say, "Thanks, Wayne. Call me tomorrow."

"You call me, I don't wanna wake anyone if you're sleeping."

They say their goodbyes. Eddie leans against the kitchen doorway to spy on you and the baby. Babies cry more than he ever could've imagined despite the warnings, but it's quiet, too. There are moments of peacefulness like this one breaking apart the chaos.

You're whispering something. Eddie stands very still, wishing the dishwasher would magically silence itself. He strains to hear you.

"I love you," you say. "Sorry I'm tired, honey. I promise I'll be better. You're so beautiful."

Eddie bites his cheeks, wondering if his family (his family!) aim to make him cry and little else tonight. He gives himself a look in the mirror magnet on the fridge framed by a We Love Michigan border, rainbows and cute elk surrounding something less pretty. His hair is frizzy but that's nothing new, greasy at the top and dry at the bottom. He scrapes it back into a scrappy bun and wipes the oil from his face with his sleeves. He's in dire need of a shower.

Resigned, he steps out of the kitchen, new socks slippery on old linoleum before finding stability on the crush of carpet in need of a vacuuming in the living room. You look up and bless him with a smile.

You've had a bad case of the baby blues, though the midwife assured him that was normal, and not to worry unless it continued past the first few weeks.

Well, Eddie will worry. Any depression you experience breaks his heart, no matter the cause, and no matter how temporary it may be. Just 'cos a cut might heal doesn't mean it didn't hurt when you got it.

"How do you feel?" he asks cautiously.

You make a face that he knows precedes a lie. "Don't worry about me."

He sits on the arm to look down at the baby —his baby, his son— in your hold, your face moving immediately to rest on his thigh.

"I'm okay, teddy," you say.

"How about you?" he asks the baby, taking his hand gently.

The baby doesn't open his eyes nor answer the question, well and truly asleep.

"Do you think Charlie was the right name?" you ask, stroking his small face lightly.

"If we hate it, we can just call him Wayne."

Eddie's out of this world lucky that you'd liked the name and loved him enough to name the baby after his uncle. Charlie Wayne Munson, born six pounds and two ounces, the smallest baby they saw all week in Hawkins General.

"He looks more like a Wayne than a Charlie," you say, rubbing your cheek into Eddie's sweatpants.

"He's so fucking beautiful," Eddie says, getting his hand behind your shoulders. He gives your back a loving rub, up and down the whole stiff length of it. "Would you relax? Or tell me what's wrong? Please?"

"Nothing's wrong… Look how perfect he is, I'd be a freak to act like something was wrong," you say, the exhale of your words warming his leg.

Eddie rubs his hand up with a tad more roughness until the cinch between your shoulders has flattened.

"You're having a biological reaction," Eddie says, leaning down to press his lips to the top of your head. "Don't feel bad about feeling bad, sweetheart. This is a physical thing, that's all it is. You're not a freak for feeling wobbly."

You relax even more, pad of your thumb swiping Charlie's smooth cheek.

"Want me to make you feel better?" he asks.

"How?"

"I'm not sure yet. I was thinking we'd make a list. Starting with a hug, quickly followed by something amazing to eat before Wayne wakes up."

"Charlie," you correct with a small laugh.

"Is there a nickname for Charlie?" Eddie asks. "What are we gonna call him? Lee?"

"We'll think of something," you promise.

Eddie isn't worried about it. He figures there's at least five years of nickname time to get one that sticks. For now, he has a list to make and things to do, and the first is making sure you're as well as you can be. He starts with the hug, pulling what you want for dinner from you one soft kiss to your temple at a time. Chicken pot pie? Ramen noodles with a fried egg on top? Sesame chicken? Triple cheeseburgers?

You can't decide. Eddie chooses breakfast for dinner. It won't take long —he can fry the sausage, eggs, turkey bacon and toast in one pan.

He keeps the door open to watch you, though nothing is actively wrong. You're deflated now rather than tense, petting and fawning over the baby as much as you can without waking him up.

"Just as handsome as your dad," you say.

It's a lovely sentiment but Charlie does not approve. He blinks awake, signified by your saccharine, "Hi, baby boy," followed by ten seconds of awe-filled cooing. Eddie's frying some bread in the pan but dinner can wait, he wants to see the baby with his eyes open again.

By the time Eddie reaches the couch, he's crying.

You move him carefully into a rock-a-bye hold and shush him. "It's alright," you say.

"He sounds like you."

"What?" you ask between shushes, hand tapping a slow and gentle rhythm into Charlie's swaddle.

"He sounds like you when he cries," Eddie insists.

Not your pained screams a few days ago nor your heart wrenching tears when you're feeling at your worst, but your hormonal sobbing. Like when you saw the commercial about the new 'shoplifters exposed' program on CBS that featured an old lady who stole a tangerine from the grocery store and got arrested despite her having alzheimers. She didn't mean to, Eddie, why would they make her cry like that? In fairness, it was a very upsetting commercial, but you cried for four hours, and for days afterward your eyes would well with tears and he'd know exactly what you were thinking of.

"When you're on your period," he explains. "When you know you wouldn't usually cry."

"You think so?" you ask.

"I think the solution is the same, too."

You nod your agreement. "He's hungry."

You and Eddie feed the baby with varying levels of success. Charlie doesn't wanna latch even though it's a bottle teat, causing some confusion —is he not hungry? Is he cold? No, sweetheart, he's not cold, he's got two blankets and the thermostat's at 68 Fahrenheit. Maybe he needs a new diaper? You check. His diaper's clean.

You're looking more and more defeated by the second. Eddie sits beside you to give your knee a reassuring squeeze. Babies are hard to look after, but he knows you'll both grow into it. You're exhausted from nine long months and a turbulent half day stint of pushing and crying and turning the bones in his hands into powder, your hormones are going crazy, and you're having a tough time. This won't be your forever feeling (though if it were to last, Eddie would stay at your side through that, too, that's not a question).

"You know what else works when you're not feeling good?" Eddie asks, offering his arms. He isn't some muscled herculean shape, but when you hand Charlie over, his arms look strong. Capable. Holding Charlie feels just as perfect as holding you. "A Munson-style cuddle," he finishes, trying to speak to his wailing son in that same bubbly parentese you've started talking in.

Eddie did a lot of talking to your bump while you were pregnant, but he was usually just trying to make you laugh. There were times where he'd lay with his nose against your hip and his arm under the bump, wondering about moments like this. What was the baby going to look like? What colour would his eyes be? What will it feel like to hold the baby in his arms?

Charlie feels lighter than Eddie first prophesied. Small. He has eyes like yours rather than eyes like his and he couldn't love it more.

Eddie takes the bottle when you offer it and sandwiches the baby to his chest. He doesn't want to condescend you, doesn't want to shoo you off, but Charlie's crying around the bottle and you look veritably miserably.

"Do you wanna go and make sure the food isn't on the turn?" he asks. When he realised the baby wasn't going to go down easy again he put your plates on a baking sheet and put the oven on low to keep it warm.

You hesitate. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know. I think so, sweetheart. We're barely a room away, alright?"

He's called you sweetheart more since the birth of your son than ever before, which is insane; Eddie's called you sweetheart likely twice a day since the day you met. That's a whole lot of sweethearts.

With the baby's changing mood comes a change in the weather. Eddie pats his little back, a quiet thump thump thump, while rain lashes the closed windows. The baby finally decides he's hungry, and the mood turns from frenetic to ambient almost immediately.

"You make sure you eat if you're hungry!" Eddie calls to you.

"Are you sure?"

"I think…" He drifts off, distracted by Charlie's long eyelashes, the way they skim under his eyes and the tiny noises he makes as he suckles. "Aw, baby," he murmurs, "good job. I knew you were hungry. You sounded just like your mom." He can't help grinning. Eddie is really talking to his kid right now, his real life baby. "You made her super emotional, but you're her whole world now. You're mine, too, obviously, but I'm cooler than this." He sighs. "No. I'm not. This is the coolest thing ever."

"What do you think?" you ask softly.

Eddie looks up. You're standing at the door, staring at them like they're made of sparkling diamond, every inch precious.

"Right. I think that we're gonna have to start eating when we can. Wayne never had a baby, but he said I was bad enough as a teenager, and Steve said he's lucky if he gets to eat a hot meal some days."

"Steve does have three," you say, frowning. "We really can't eat together anymore?"

You ask like you're less bothered than you are. Like a gimmicky Oh, man. Eddie knows it hides a real worry, and right now he's trying to give you the world on a silver platter, so he dots a little kiss on Charlie's head and says warmly into his skin, "No, that's not true. You're going to be such a good kid, me and mom will be eating together all the time. Isn't that right?"

Eddie looks at you with his head still tilted down. "I wanna eat together, okay? Everything's changing, but dinner doesn't have to. I just wanted you to eat 'cos you left half of your waffles at breakfast."

"I can wait."

"Then let's wait. You wanna come and hold him?"

"No, he's settled. I don't wanna mess it up again."

"You didn't," Eddie says, firm and sweet at once. "Sweetheart, come here. You didn't mess up, okay? I'm serious, come and sit with me."

You hesitate in the way. You're still unsteady on your feet despite the few days you've had to recuperate. Though your hair is cleaner than his it certainly isn't clean, nor are the clothes you've pulled on. Eddie read up and asked around on what would be comfiest for you, debating nightgowns and silk pyjamas at length, but all you've wanted to wear is a hoodie you've had since you were a teenager and a pair of sweatpants with fraying cuffs. He loves it —you look like an adorable dork.

Your stomach visibly churns. Eddie thinks you might chuck up, is already pulling the baby to his chest to place in the bassinet when you take a short, quiet gasp for air.

"Sorry, I don't know why I feel so on and off. I know it's just hormones. I promise I feel happy– I feel happy–" You gesture an open palm toward him. "He's gorgeous, Eds, he's everything I wanted and so much more, I just– I just feel like crying and I don't know why," you confess, blinking to suppress tears, shifting your weight uncomfortably from foot to foot.

Eddie detests seeing you this uneasy, and he swoops in to correct it.

"Come here," he says again, no hands free to hold out to you. He hopes his voice is inviting enough.

You shrink into yourself. "I'm being weird."

"I like when you're weird. I kind of love it. I don't think we'd be in the mess if I didn't love it."

"It's a mess?" you ask.

"It's perfect."

You finally smile, creeping around the bassinet and the needlessly baby proofed coffee table to sit on the edge of the couch with him. Charlie makes a sound in the back of his throat.

"Hear that? He knows you're here," Eddie murmurs, making room for you hopefully.

You sidle up to his thigh and lean on his arm, careful not to knock his elbow. You watch Charlie drink his bottle for as long as there's milk left, two ounces knocked back like it's nothing.

Eddie eases the teat from Charlie's lips carefully. With care but a clumsy imprecise manoeuvre, he lays Charlie down in the bassinet. He has a lot of hair for such a small baby, enough to stroke back from his forehead, soft under Eddie's fingertips.

"He's really, really beautiful," Eddie says quietly.

"I know," you say, an anxious hand on your cheek. "I can't believe something as good as him could come from someone like me."

Eddie stands between your legs, resting a loving hand at the slope of your shoulder. "Why would you ever think something like that?" he asks, his voice as soft as it's ever been, but with a smile in case you don't want to talk about it any more.

"He's… I'm just not…"

Eddie gives you time. You've needed it ever since you went into labour, time to piece things together.

"I really thought I was ready," you say, looking up at him with a pinch between your eyebrows.

He brings his hand up to cup your face. You don't lean into it. "Alright, I'm going to talk for a little while, 'n' I know you won't agree with everything I'm saying but I need you to know that this is how I really feel, yeah? Buckle up." Eddie bends down, unafraid of embarrassing himself because it's you. "I know you think these feelings are your fault… that this is some failing, like you're–" He drops his voice to a whisper, "Like you're being a bad mom already, but it's not the truth."

You startle at being read so easily. "Eds," you mumble.

"We knew this might be how you felt afterward, the midwife talked and talked about baby blues and you said–"

"I said I couldn't understand how I'd ever feel sad once he was born," you say, looking at his neck rather than his face.

"And that's fine, you know? You're not a bad person for thinking it would be perfect and then changing your mind."

"But he is perfect," you say.

Eddie rubs your cheek. "He's perfect, but this is hard. Being a new mom with your stitches and your aching tummy and all the gross fluids–"

You laugh through a groan, pressing your eye into his hand.

He leaps to keep it going. "This isn't how you expected to feel, but that's okay. There's nothing to be ashamed of. Cry if you feel like crying and don't feel fucking guilty about it, this sucks. You had to do the world's most tumultuous campaign for the last nine months and suddenly you're standing at the start of a new one that takes up, like, a gazillion pages with half health and an equally useless companion."

Your lips press into a thin line, but your eyes are soft and bright despite their obvious fatigue. You bracelet his wrist with your fingers and push his hand further into your cheek.

"My dork," you murmur.

"You understand it, don't you? Makes you an even bigger dork."

You nudge your nose into his palm. "I understand. Thank you, honey."

Eddie's not done. "You said you don't know how something good like him could come from someone like you? I don't think bad was a possibility."

Your second thank you is better. The first wasn't inauthentic, but this one sounds as though you genuinely believe him. Eddie bows down into a crouch to wrap his arms around you, the majority of his weight on your shoulders and avoiding your sore lower region, and the entirety of his love pressed to your cheek, a long, mindless kiss.

"I love you," you say.

Eddie tucks his head against yours, ignoring his protesting knees. "I love you, too."

Your food turns to dry mulch by the time you remember it in the oven. You're too distracted by Eddie's hug, his offering for a shoulder massage, and the subsequent second hug that ensues, your back to his chest, dozing in the sanctuary of his arms. Munson-style cuddles are his expertise.

˗ˋˏ ♡ ˎˊ˗

thank you for reading!

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banmitbandit · 27 days

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Pots 'N' Picks Week 2024: Day 7: Breakfast/Lunch/Dinner/Snacks/Dessert/Family/Goodbye

[Dungeon Meshi spoilers (with a big amount of canon divergence) and a long, long caption beneath the Keep Reading]

November 20th, 1484 Dear Senshi, It's been a little over eighty two years since you've been gone. In that time, Merrywinn, the newborn baby you held in your arms days before you passed, became a great-great-grandmother, and her funeral last week was as rancorous as every other half-foot funeral we attended. Soon, it will be my one thousandth birthday, and I can only hope that, like you and Marcille, that's when this curse will finally be lifted, and I can see you again. If that's true, then that means I'm the beginning of an end. Instead of twenty one years, Laios will only have to wait three until he dies after me, and Falin will only have to wait three after that. In twelve years from now, Izutsumi will pass on too, and the six of us will get to share a meal together once again. I've missed your cooking, sure, but most importantly, I've missed you. Do you remember when we first shared that bottle of wine in my new house in Kahka Brud, over nine hundred years ago, before we had the slightest idea that something was wrong? I told you that I didn't want to make you feel the way I felt when Fayfinn left me. You said you didn't care, that it was worth whatever small amount of time you had me. Obviously, it turned out that fate had different plans for us, that the Winged Lion had cursed Marcille too, that we'd each live as long as she would. It's been hard, but since then, you've been there for me every step of the way. When Fayfinn passed, when my girls passed, when their children passed, and theirs too. You've been there for everything, and I'm thankful for it, from the bottom of my heart. I knew I wouldn't be prepared to lose you, and I wasn't. But no matter how much I hurt, Izutsumi was worse, even if she'd never admit it, and I had to be strong for her, too. She's strong and independent, just like she's always been, since the day we met her, but you were the closest thing to a father she ever had. She loved you, Senshi. She said so herself at your funeral. I just hope she doesn't miss me enough to cry at mine. I don't care what dwarves or tallmen or elves think, you and I both know funerals are supposed to be celebrations. Fun is in the name, isn't it? I haven't been okay in a long time, but these days, I feel somewhat peaceful. I have lived my life to the fullest, like any good half-foot should. My birthday gets nearer and nearer with each passing day. Tomorrow, Lochlee, Merrywinn's great-grandson, is helping me collect my things so that I can return to Merini for Laios and Falin's birthday in a few days, and I plan to stay there at the castle until my time is up. I've packed the cheesecake recipe you perfected, and I'm going to sneak it to the cooks whilst Laios isn't looking. I'm sure he'll end up eating yours and Marcille's portions too, but I know you won't mind. After that, it's Marcille's birthday. Then Izutsumi's. Then mine. I'm looking forward to it; like funerals, birthdays are for celebrating. Even elves know that. I can't wait to see you again, Senshi. Yours, -Chilchuck Tims

An AU I proposed back in the Chilshi Nation server a while ago seemed to be a good way to break my heart when rounding off Chilshi week. A lot of people bring up the tragedy of Chilchuck and Senshi's lifespans being so different, and it makes me wonder what it would be like if Marcille's misguided wish had long term consequences.

This wasn't intended to be seven pages long with the lyrics to A Thousand Years by Christina Perri shoved in, but that's what it ended up being. The song seemed a little too perfect not to include.

All of my Chilshi posts were drawn up on the day, and I used them mostly as an excuse to experiment, whether it be posing, body types, shading, comic layouts... My later entries got to be a little more ambitious with what I wanted to do with them, so they're maybe not as polished as I would like them to be, but I hope you can enjoy them anyways.

Whilst I'm here, I'd like to extend a special thankyou to @dumblilracoon for dealing with my awful brainstorming and struggling all week. Couldn't have done this without you. And of course, the Chilshi Nation discord server for being so lovely! :)

If you reblogged or liked or commented on even one of my Chilshi week posts, thankyou so much! Chilshi week has been a blast and working on it and seeing all the lovely art and writing that's come up from it has been a treat.

Happy Chilshi Week, everybody!

#dungeon meshi #delicious in dungeon #senshi of izganda #chilchuck tims #chilshi #pots n picks #potsnpicksweek2024

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melissahartiganphotography · 3 months

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Precious Caryn Newborn Pics – Tolland Newborn Photography

Hi there! Thanks for stopping by Melissa Hartigan Photography – CT Newborn Photographer and browsing around my blog. For those who are visiting for the first time, I’m a Connecticut Newborn Photographer with a professional photography studio located in Coventry, CT. I specialize in maternity, newborn, baby milestone, children, senior and family photography. I love to capture special events in…

#baby girl posed newborn #baby in bucket #newborn and family poses #newborn and sibling poses #newborn props #newborn with parents poses

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cordeliawhohung · 9 months

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mafia!ghost vs shy!reader who just got back from family holidays and is having the absolute worst case of baby fever ever

oh goodness, and bonus points too if you went on holiday by yourself because Simon had to stay behind for something work related ): seeing your cousins and family and the new additions they've brought with them. adorable infants wrapped tightly in blankets, energetic toddlers who didn't know how to do anything but run around and giggle. their clothes are so cute and small, and you especially can't get over infant sized shoes! and when one of your cousins wears the matching mommy and daughter outfits? you're fucking done. you're sending Simon pictures constantly of you holding a sleeping infant or of one of the toddlers posing in their carefully curated outfits. it's just too much for you to handle.

when you get back home you try and forget all about it but it eats you from the inside out. when you're in bed at night with Simon you think about what it would be like to have a tiny child snuggled between the two of you. how small would a newborn look in Simon's arms? or laying against his chest? or cooing at them? and Simon notices that you've become a bit more distracted than usual, so don't be surprised if you're minding your business in the kitchen one day and he comes up behind you with his hands wrapped around you.

"what's on your mind, sweetheart?"

and it's so embarrassing to admit but he draws the truth out of you anyway. as you explain yourself, tell him about how you can't get the thought of having a kid of your own out of your mind, his hands wander to your stomach. he rubs gentle circles along your tummy as if he's imagining what it would feel like if you were swollen with a child; his child.

"why bother thinkin' about it when we could make that a reality?" he prompts.

you try to tell him why that's a bad idea, how you don't think you'd be a good mom, that no matter how badly you want it, it might not be the right time. every thought leaves your mind when one of his hands slowly slips between your legs where he rubs at you through the fabric of your pants while his other hand stays firmly on your stomach.

"what do you say, mama?"

#core responds #mafia!ghost #mafia!simon #mafia!141 #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader

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chsims · 1 month

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Special family moments

Edward loves capturing moments with Georgia and her little daughter. They love spending the end of the day playing the piano with little Genna. Georgia has always loved playing the piano, but her schedule with a newborn was difficult and now that Genna is a little older, she always ends the day with a beautiful piano quintet!

Pose by @lilalmondsim

#chsims #the sims 4 #sims 4 #sims 4 screenshots #the sims maxis match #my sims #harrington*#showusyoursims #the sims aesthetic #the sims 4 simblr

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merrybloomwrites · 3 months

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HS4 at Midnight?

Summary: Harry's performance with Stevie Nicks has his fans wondering if HS4 will be announced soon. Little do they know that you and Harry have other exciting news to share.

Word Count: 770

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

When Harry steps out wearing his suit, you get hit with a wave of nostalgia. It’s been nearly a year since he’s last been on stage, and what a year it’s been. So much has happened in your lives, and miraculously, Harry’s fans still haven’t figured it out.

They’ll know soon, though. But the secret is safe for a little bit longer.

“Can you help with the pin?” He asks, and you quickly straighten the bird he’s wearing in honor of Christine.

“How are you feeling?” you ask.

“Excited. And nervous. I always love singing with Stevie. But it’s been so long, and I just know my fans are gonna go crazy. It’s been so calm lately,” he answers.

“I know, I love our little bubble too. But I really think it’s the time to pop it, don’t you agree?”

“You’re right, as always,” he says and presses a kiss to your lips.

After another few minutes you leave Harry’s side so he can head backstage. You join Gemma and the rest of Harry’s friends who are there to watch.

When he comes onstage you stick close to his sister. You’ve become so close, especially lately, and you’re truly both a bit emotional watching Harry sing with one of his idols. Neither of you do a great job holding in the tears of overwhelming pride seeing him up on that stage.

After the show is over you and Harry head back home, choosing to ignore social media for the moment. But you can’t help checking the next day, and one thing in particular catches your eye.

“They’ve all got a theory,” you say to him, providing no context.

“Who?”

“Your fans. They seem to have noticed a pattern.”

“Ah, and what would that be?”

“That you always do a performance like this and then announce a new album right after. So far I’ve seen about twenty people saying ‘HS4 at midnight?’”

Harry laughs and replies, “Oh they have no idea what’s about to go down.”

You’re about to respond when a sound distracts you, pulling you away from the conversation.

A few more days pass and you walk into the living room to see Harry on his phone, giggling and typing.

“What are you doing?” you ask. He doesn’t answer, just turns his phone to you so you can see what he’s up to. He’s on instagram, making a story to post to his main account. It’s just a black screen with the eyes emoji and the word “tomorrow”.

“Oh you are so mean,” you say, laughing right along with him.

“It’s fun to tease them, just a little bit. And see all their theories. I wonder if anyone will guess right.”

“A couple might. I mean, most will guess new album but there will definitely be some who think differently.”

“We’ll know soon,” he says as he officially posts his story. The views come a second later, and within minutes people are posting all over the internet, excited to finally hear from Harry after a year away.

The two of you spend time that evening crafting the announcement post, choosing just the right pictures and caption. You hope that people won’t be disappointed, but try not to think about the potential negative responses. Rather, you and Harry focus on the excitement you know will come.

The next morning, after a quiet family breakfast, Harry looks over the post one last time before sharing it with the world.

Under a series of photos of your beautiful family, all posed just right to hide your newborn daughter's face, is the caption “Baby Styles. Out now. This past year has been the most exciting time in my life. Becoming a father has been a truly wonderful experience. To my wife, thank you, thank you, thank you, for this gift. I am so impressed by you, so proud of the mum that you are, and I cannot wait for us to watch this little girl grow up together.”

For the rest of the day, you and Harry keep an eye on the comments while taking care of your two month old. As expected, some people are disappointed by the lack of new music, but the response is overwhelmingly positive. Everyone is excited that Harry is officially a girl dad, and the word ‘congratulations’ is written so many times it starts to look fake.

That evening, you settle in for your favorite concert of all time. This one happens every night, and it’s just for you and your little one. As Harry croons to your daughter, you grow impossibly more fond of this man.

#harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction

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section-chief-prentiss · 3 months

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Maternity Leave (part 5/?)

Summary: The BAU meets your newborn.

Pairing: Emily Prentiss/Reader

Word Count: 1763

TWs: fluff, comfort, newborn life

Ao3

PART ONE PART TWO PART THREE PART FOUR

You and Emily agreed to wait to have any visitors until Amelia was a month old.

You were recovering from surgery, and the birth in general, and you and Emily were still adjusting to being new parents. You wanted alone time with your daughter, to keep your world small, before letting anyone else in.

Neither you nor Emily were particularly close with your biological families, so that hadn’t posed an issue. The main source of pressure came from Emily’s actual family—the BAU.

To no one’s surprise, Penelope led the charge. When Emily hard-launched the announcement of your daughter’s arrival, by sending a picture of Amelia in the BAU group chat, both of your phones exploded with calls from the team.

You’d FaceTimed with your found family—a family you’d been brought into once you’d met Emily. Even though you didn’t work at the FBI with the rest of them, you’d become an honorary member and were quickly indoctrinated into ladies’ nights with JJ, Emily, and Penelope.

During the call, Hotch, Rossi, JJ, Morgan, Penelope, and Spencer fought to look at Penelope’s phone as Emily fixed the camera on you, holding your daughter.

“Congratulations!” Spencer said.

“SHE’S ADORABLE,” Penelope cooed.

“She is perfect,” JJ agreed.

“How are you two feeling?” Hotch asked.

You’d both agreed you were exhausted but had never been happier. Penelope immediately asked when they could meet her, and you watched the team’s faces fall when Emily told them it would be a few weeks.

JJ, as the other mother in the group, was the most understanding, and eventually, the others followed her lead.

When Emily ended the call, you deflated. “Are we being too harsh? Should we just invite them over?”

Emily frowned. “This is our family, and if we want to wait to have visitors, then we’ll wait. They will understand.”

“But Penelope—” you protested.

Emily held up a hand. “Let me deal with Penelope.”

You sighed but ultimately agreed.

Just after Amelia turned one month old, when you’d officially been home with her for a full month, you woke up to a text from Penelope.

Up for some visitors tonight? She’d asked with about a dozen emojis.

You giggled and handed the phone to Emily, who squinted to read the message.

Emily set the phone on the nightstand and rolled over to wrap her arms around you, and you sunk into her embrace.

“What do you think, love?” She whispered in your ear. “If you want more time, say the word, and I’ll handle it.”

Surprising even yourself, you were shaking your head before she was done speaking. You’d realized a few days prior that you missed your friends, and you yearned for adult conversations with someone other than your wife.

“I would like to see them,” you said.

Emily kissed your cheek. “I’ll invite them for dinner tonight.”

You melted against your wife, sleep threatening to claim you, when a wail erupted from the bassinet across the room.

“It’s okay,” Emily said, pulling away. “You go back to sleep.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. Before she could pick up your daughter and leave the room, you were gone.

***

At exactly 5 PM, the doorbell rang.

Normally, you preferred a late dinner, but with the team wanting to meet Amelia before she went to bed, you had to push things forward a few hours before she got too tired.

“Why do I feel nervous?” You rubbed your hands on your apron, which covered a floral sundress. You were battling some insecurities about your body, but the dress was comfortable and flattering, and for the first time in a while, you felt confident.

Emily was wearing a white button-down and black slacks with red lipstick that was driving you wild.

But you needed to focus.

Emily squeezed your hand. “We’ve been so isolated; it’s normal to feel a little anxious. But it’ll be great, you’ll see. And if it’s not, I’ll kick them out.”

The doorbell rang again, and Emily swore. “I’ll let them in; you take a moment.”

You did just that, finishing setting the dining room table as a chorus of voices echoed into your living room. Your heart rate accelerated, but you took a moment to pause, take a few deep breaths, and finish putting the table together before hanging your apron in the kitchen and joining the rest of the party.

“There she is!” Rossi cheered.

“How are you feeling, mama?” Morgan asked, wrapping an arm around you.

You blushed. “I can honestly say I’m doing great.”

“There’s nothing like it, is there?” JJ asked, wrapping her arms around you next.

“She’s incredible,” you agreed.

“It’s so good to see you,” Penelope gushed. “I come bearing presents!”

Sure enough, she held up a large, light pink gift bag that you suspected was filled to the brim.

“I brought wine,” Rossi offered.

“And I have sparkling grape juice,” JJ said.

You winked at her. “Thank you.”

“I have to say,” Hotch stepped forward. “For this being a house with a newborn, you’d never know it. When Haley and I had Jack, our place was a disaster for… well, it still is.”

You giggled. “If left to my own devices, believe me, it would be. But this one,” you pointed to your wife, who was taking the drinks to the table. “Has been my hero with staying on top of housework.”

“Really, Emily?” Morgan teased. “You? Cleaning?”

“Shut up, Derek,” Emily said, rolling her eyes, but there was a grin on her face that undermined the action.

“Have a seat,” you said, gesturing to the sectional. “I’ll go get the guest of honor.”

The room exploded into excited chatter as you slipped into your bedroom to gather Amelia from her bassinet.

“Fair warning, Amelia: They’re loud,” you whispered. “But they’re the best people I know.”

You kissed her forehead and smoothed out the floral onesie you’d dressed her in, which almost matched the dress you had on, before heading back out to meet your friends.

A hush fell over the room when you walked in, and all eyes were on you. You flushed from the attention and directed yours to the cooing baby in your arms.

“This,” you said, shifting her in your arms so everyone could catch a glimpse. “Is Amelia.”

You expected everyone to rush toward you to get a better look, but to your surprise, they remained seated. You glanced over to your wife, who was grinning, and knew she was behind their good behavior.

You walked her to each of your friends, introducing them individually. The last person in line was Penelope, who was practically bouncing in her seat.

You grinned at your friend. “Would you like to hold her?”

It was like you told her Christmas came early—her face lit up. “Are you sure?”

You nodded and gently handed her over to your friend. Though you knew Penelope was seasoned with babies at this point, you still felt nervous having her in the arms of someone who wasn’t yourself or Emily.

“She’s so small,” Penelope whispered.

“You know, by the time babies are one month old, they can see and focus on objects that are less than a foot away and sleep 14 to 17 hours per 24-hour period,” Spencer recited.

“She does love to sleep,” you agreed.

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” Hotch teased.

You groaned. “Oh, we are.”

Each team member took turns holding Amelia, who was starting to get fussy by the time she reached Emily.

“Babe, she’s hungry,” Emily said, rocking her gently.

“I’ll feed her; dinner should be almost ready, if you could check on it?”

Emily nodded, handing your daughter back to you. You made your way back into your bedroom, closing the door behind you, to feed your baby in peace.

A few minutes later, Emily crept in and made her way to where you sat, in the rocking chair in the corner.

“Dinner’s ready, but everyone’s willing to wait,” your wife said. “No one’s in a hurry.”

“No, they should eat while it’s hot. I don’t want the pressure of everyone waiting for me; I should be able to join you all in 20 or so.”

“Are you sure, love?”

You nodded. “I love them, but I think Amelia and I both need a moment alone anyway. Go, talk to our friends; I’ll join you in a bit.”

Emily brushed a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

“I love you most,” she said, heading back toward the door.

“I love you even m—”

“Can’t hear you! Already gone!” She called, rushing out of the room and closing the door behind her.

“Your momma’s a competitive woman,” you told your daughter with a giggle.

When Amelia was fed and burped, she could barely keep her eyes open. You kept rocking her, singing softly, until she was sleeping soundly. Carefully, you walked her to her bassinet, grabbed the baby monitor from the nightstand, and slipped back out of the room to rejoin your friends.

On the other side of the door, the dining room was bustling with laughter.

“I’ve never heard Spencer’s voice so high-pitched,” Derek was saying. “As soon as that elevator stopped moving, it was like it went up a full octave.”

“You weren’t exactly calm in there, either!” Spencer protested.

“This argument again?” you teased, taking the empty seat next to your wife. You kissed the top of her head before you sat, and Emily took your hand once you were settled.

“Every time,” JJ said, polishing off her glass of wine.

“How’s the baby?” Emily asked.

“Sleeping,” you shrugged. “Sorry her appearance was so limited,” you said to the rest of the room.

“Oh, please,” Rossi said, waving his hand.

“We were excited to meet her, but it’s you both we really wanted to see,” Penelope said.

You raised an eyebrow at your friend. That wasn’t what you expected to hear.

“She’s right,” Spencer said. “We’ve missed you guys. Everything’s changing so fast.”

You softened at that. “It won’t be like this forever. Hotch and JJ figured it out, and we will too. And you guys are welcome to come over anytime.”

“As long as you call first,” Emily jumped in. “So you don’t wake the baby.”

You smiled. “What she said.”

“To Amelia,” Rossi said, raising his glass. “The newest member of our family.”

The rest of the table raised their glasses, and you poured some sparkling grape juice into yours before doing the same.

“To Amelia,” the room echoed, clinking glasses.

Tag List:

@yena-reyna, @propertyofemilyprentiss, @chaekhan, @obsessedwjill, @mrs-prentiss, @i-lovefandom, @tireddeadgirl, @lez-talk1, @emilyprentiss-ily

Join my tag list!

#criminal minds #emily prentiss #fanfiction #paget brewster #pagetbrewster #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #emily prentiss x reader #comfort #penelope garcia #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jennifer jj jareau #david rossi

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fabricated-misslieness · 2 years

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ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: jake sully x male reader (+sully family)

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: There were many struggles that came with fatherhood—you must find a solution for each one.

ᴀɴᴏɴ: jake and reader are like the dads of the sully children, basically the sully's having gay dads??

ʀᴇ𝐐: yes ~ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 6565

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: mentions of death (lighthearted) never happens tho, swearing, much worrying about children, surrogate neytiri referring to your kids as hers too (idk just in case)

ᴍᴀʏʙ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: so. i've got a lot of things to say. that's why i'm putting a second a/n at the bottom. - two gays cannot have an avatar child if they can't have children therefore surrogate Neytiri <3 - my first attempt at writing a full sentence in Na'vi, y'all are probably not fluent in it but i hope it's correct. - regrettably, there's only one scene with Tuk and only one mention of Spider - less about the relationship between jake and reader, more about the children

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Neteyam was a blessing.

Him and Neytiri both.

When she agreed to be a surrogate for your children, you were both over the moon, over each of the three of Eywa'eveng.

Neytiri knew it best, the stress of having a child. Though it was all her, her body, her belly, her birthing, you and Jake stuck to her side and stressed with her. You could see her pain, in her eyes, and Jake said he felt it himself.

The musings did not help Neytiri through the pain.

Omatikaya welcoming ceremonies consisted of everyone in the village, close family, friends, acquaintances, everyone rounded up to welcome the newborn. But this one was special, for there was one mother and two fathers. Strange as it may have been, the three of you knew there'd be plenty more to come.

When Jake held him up towards the sky, calling the name, "Neteyam", you knew the name truly belonged to him, even if the newborn had yet developed characteristic traits.

The first year was not pretty. If it weren't for Mo'at and Neytiri–and thought it may be harsh, it is the truth–Neteyam would probably be dead.

Jake always knew there was a thing with babies. They didn't have a sense of danger. On Earth, some of the deadliest stuff they could find was a fork and an outlet. On Pandora, however, there were much worse things.

He was aware of this, both of you were, of the Hammerheads, Thanators, Viperwolves that each posed a dangerous threat to your child. Even herbivores, like Flathead Rams, could trample over your baby like he was nothing. He couldn't roam, either, for he didn't know the difference between a poisonous plant and a safe one, and the differences were scarce. Not to mention, they grew close to the ground. Even the carnivorous plants were huge enough to swallow him whole.

So you both watched him, most of the time.

When the hunt called, however, it was only one of you. You took turns.

Why? Because the mighty Toruk Makto, Olo'eyktan of the Omatikaya, once war chief of three tribes at once, was not exempt from taking care of the baby.

Besides, he kind of liked it. He liked looking at his boy, knowing that in all ways except biological, Neteyam was his.

He loved when the little baby wrapped his four little blue fingers around one of his five large ones. He was so tiny, so defenseless. He had to take care of him. Couldn't let him out of his sight.

He was also so, so cute.

Neteyam lets out a little yawn, stretching all his limbs except for the hand holding his father's finger.

"Aww," Jake coos. "dinner's in a bit. The game's not even here yet. You can sleep."

As time passes, and Neteyam drifts off in his father's warm, large arms that encompassed him, Jake gets lost in the sight and his thoughts. Neteyam was his child. He never thought he'd have one.

He doesn't register the sound of you propping your bow up on the wall, or your footsteps, or a portion of the fresh hunt being placed next to the fire.

In fact, he doesn't really notice you at all until you sit next to him.

You wrap your arms around him, one around his back, the other around his stomach below his arms and Neteyam, and settle your head into the crook of his neck.

Jake laughs lowly, your nose against his neck's skin slightly ticklish—he didn't think the Na'vi were ticklish, hadn't learned it until he was victim to your fingers. "Kxì, my love. Tired?"

"Ngenga pllertxe fura tawtute lì'fya... ‘Ìnglìsì. Tìftang si." (You're speaking that sky people language... English. Stop it.)

Ever since the first time, he's memorized the words, therefore knows their meaning. "You know I don't speak Na'vi well. Right? Or are you too tired to remember?"

"Perfectly conscious enough to remember." You laugh lazily, "Just love to tease you."

Jake presses the side of his head against the top of yours, the best affection he can offer with Neteyam in his arms. "Zola‘u nìprrte’. Happy?"

"Yes."

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Where Neteyam was yours, Lo'ak was Jake's.

But first, came the unexpected Kiri. A month after Neytiri affirmed that she would have your second child, Norm and Max called with a panic.

One morning, as bored eyes strayed from scientific screens and microscopes, Norm discovered a bump on Grace's avatar's body. There were many theories, but each was discredited. The tank was safe, you were all sure, even if you did not know anything of the amniotic fluid within it. It wasn't scratched, didn't show any signs of opening, it displayed nothing at all. So what could be the cause?

The answer went unanswered for another two months. Until, at the third month, Norm realized that the size lined up with that of a human pregnancy. It was already the size of a seven month old baby bump. Which meant... soon enough, the vacant avatar would be having a baby.

There was hardly a discussion of who would raise it. Jake knew that he was indebted to Grace, that even though he had yet another child on the way, whatever came of Grace's avatar was his to take care of.

Kiri was born first. Lo'ak was soon to be on his way. However, the season for the first communion with Eywa was approaching. Though having the three of them commune with the Great Mother at the same time would be wonderful, the first communion was not to be delayed.

While Jake helped Neteyam attach his queue to the Tree of Souls, you helped Kiri.

Her eyes, her smile, toothless even, her dilated pupils... She was elated. She was so happy, and you mirrored her smile too.

This wasn't your kid, wasn't Jake's either, but you would raise her as one of your own.

Lo'ak and Kiri... they both came out with five fingers and little eyebrows. It was a scary thing, to have children that looked different from everyone else. Jake knew that, with an Avatar body, it was possible. Seeing it himself, though...

Neteyam, being oldest, required a little less care. He slept by himself at his crib. The newborns slept with you whilst the two of you waited for Neytiri's hunt.

Lo'ak was cuddled up in his father's arms, Kiri in yours. Her fingers were wrapped around your smallest finger, what Jake would call his ring finger. "Five fingers.." You muttered to yourself. You'd counted them many times over.

Jake hears you. "And eyebrows."

"Just like you." You muse with a laugh. Jake laughs along too, but you notice the difference; his laugh lacks its usual humor.

"What is it?" You ask, concerned lace with his words like the weaving of a necklace.

"Nothing." He shakes his head. He couldn't worry you, especially because he wasn't even sure if these five fingers and eyebrows would make any difference.

"I can tell there's something." You remain stubborn, scooting even closer to him. It was one of the qualities he actually loved about you, as annoying as it could be. "You can't evade me, darling."

"Darling? You picked up the word?"

"Jake." You're deflecting.

"I know." He sighs, "I know. It's just... They're different, Kiri and Lo'ak, different from others their age. It's not something I want for them."

"You think it'll affect the way they are treated?"

"Yes."

"Darling." You repeat the pet name more stern now, calling for his attention. He lifts his gaze from his baby boy to meet your eyes. They're yellow, they're golden, just like his. "You were different. But now you are not. You're Olo'eyktan, one of the us; one of the people, one of the Omatikaya. These children are yours, and they are mine. They are part of the Omatikaya."

"But they–"

"Extra fingers, extra hair on their face. The eyebrows are expressive, lovely. The fingers are good, help with dexterity." You tilt your head forward, "They will be fine."

Just as the same as he yearns to hold you, he wishes he believed you. For now, however, he settles on your only point of contact being your lips, and his assured belief about these children being that you and he would love them to the ends of the Earth.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

The differences meant nothing to Jake, there would be no change in the way he treated them. Soon enough, he'd sort of forgotten, for the most part.

What couldn't be forgotten, though, were his Olo'eyktan duties.

The problem was, you were gone for a little while. The second problem was, Neytiri was taking care of Neteyam. Now that didn't quiet seem like a problem, but she was taking care of him before you left and before he realized he had important Olo'eyktan stuff to do. He couldn't just bother Neytiri to take care of his kids! The third problem was, they were his kids! He couldn't just leave them. They were hardly two months old.

So now, he was left with a dilemma. Baby carriers.

For humans, it was a little embarrassing to, as a father, be wearing one of them. But to the Na'vi, it was just another part of life, a necessity.

Jake was a Na'vi now. He had to get over human societal norms.

"Hanging in there, baby girl?" Jake asks Kiri–as if she can understand him–who unfortunately has to take the tight space on his back.

After getting the silent answer he was expecting, Jake begins his work. As expected, no Na'vi seem to pay him any mind. They greet him just the same as any other day, the only difference being the small coos directed at his children. He's just happy they love them.

As Jake checks his daughter is safe on his back for the umpteenth time, he hears something wrong.

Click.

He stares ahead, obviously disturbed. His eyebrow furrows as he finds the camera, with a diminishing flash, being held by the scientist he regrettably called a friend.

"Norm, don't you have shit to do?" The swear word doesn't faze him, for the babies were too young to even register the word.

The scientist adjusts his exopack over his shit-eating grin. "Research, Jake." He gives off a hint as his amusement with each word he speaks, "I’m capturing the Mighty Toruk Makto in his natural form. Which is adorable." He winks.

"Uh-huh." Jake replies; contrasting his friend, he remains unamused. "Kiss the dark side of my blue–" Out of the corner of his eye, he spots Mo'at. Shit, Mo'at. She knew English and he needed to talk to her.

"You are a lucky man, Norm." Jake turns on his heels, leaving Norm behind as he heads towards the Tsahìk.

When he does so, though, Kiri turns her head as much as she can to stare at the human scientist curiously. Norm takes the opportunity.

Click.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Lo'ak and Kiri were, relative to their brother, the same age. They also looked the most like each other, excluding their father. They both had the characteristic traits of an avatar, traits that set them apart from the rest of the clan. Because of this, you thought they'd be inseparable, best friends. Instead, they fought, and fought, and fought.

It was weird, even, that Kiri often sought out her older brother's company over her baby brother's.

These peculiarities' origins, however, were solved when you realized the common point of these arguments. Lo'ak. Lo'ak was a troublesome kid in that he loved freedom, and even more, loved to be possessive.

Within seven years, many things were taught. Jake, for one, learned much of the Na'vi language. In fact, it was practically English to him. Sometimes he forgot what language he began the sentence with, and he would end up starting with Na'vi and ending with English or mixing in a couple words in the middle.

As far as the kids were concerned, it was gibberish. At least, for a couple years. After they dominated the Na'vi language well enough, they began to learn English. Their main teacher was their father, not their sempu, so when things like this happened...

"I hate you times infinity, Lo'ak! Penis face!"

It was his fault.

After the kids' argument was swiftly dealt with (the toy had to be threatened to be cut in half, and then they stopped), Jake places the toy in Kiri's hands. "Kid, go find your brother." He sighs, "You can play with him."

"I don't wanna play with him." Lo'ak crosses his arms, stomping his foot. "He's a sucker."

"Hey, now, that's not a good thing to say about your brother." Jake presses a harsh finger against his son's shoulder. "What would Neteyam think?"

"It's true! And he needs to know it!"

"If your sempu was here, you'd be–"

"Sempu's here." You call. The kids didn't really realize you heard the beginning of what Jake was going to say. Instead, they run to hug you. Kiri drops the much beloved toy they so desperately wanted earlier, in favor of wrapping her arms around your waist.

You scoop each of them up, each held by one strong arm. Even so, knowing that the position is weak, they steady themselves by wrapping their small limbs as far around you as they can. "Now, what was it that you needed me for?"

"Nothing, sempu." Kiri shakes her head, pressing her head against your shoulder. "Just a little dispute."

"Yes. A dispute." Lo'ak agrees with the wide nod of his head, though he pronounces the word much worse than Kiri does. Seems he slacked off on their latest English lessons and somehow ignored the word "penis" that Kiri vividly recalls.

"Ooh, dispute? Where'd you learn that big word, huh?" You coo, rubbing your nose into her hair. She laughs at the feeling, it's almost ticklish.

"Dad." She replies simply.

"Yeah, well, they also managed to learn the word "penis" from me." While you gawk dramatically at your children, Jake sticks his tongue out at them just as childishly. Little suck ups. He mouths.

Lo'ak sticks his tongue back out at his own father, to which you slap him gently on the hip. "What situation requires that," You think of a suitably negative word , uglily scrunching up your nose so that the children can have something to laugh at. "despicable word?"

"Lo'ak," Kiri is quick to tell, "was trying to steal my toy!"

"No I wasn't!" Lo'ak huffs. If he were on the ground, he'd have stumped his feet. Instead, they kick the air.

"Yes you were!" She retorts.

"Which one, the one so sadly on the floor?"

At the mention of its position, they both turn their gazes towards it. Kiri dares to mutter a little "uh-oh" as her eyes find it. Whilst they are distracted by the dread building up in their bodies, you look to Jake. Go find Neteyam. I'll deal with these two.

Silently, he nods, and slips away while the children begin to make up excuses. As he walks down the river bank, he hears a shout from the house. "You're a big fat liar!"

If memory served right, Neteyam wanted to visit Neytiri. Out of all of their kids, he took to her the most.

A part of him, at the back of his mind, wonders how all his children will react once they learn who their mother is.

He doesn't indulge in the thought. Instead, he focuses on the task ahead. The path from his home to Neytiri's was one he memorized, and he made sure when he built his home that it wouldn't be a long distance.

He doesn't expect to find the two of them, Neteyam and Neytiri, outside of the house. Neither does he expect his son to be so vigorously training even after training hours.

"That's it. Remember your stance." Neytiri advises Neteyam, patting his shoulder. "You're doing great."

"Hey!" Jake greets the two. The sudden call surprises Neteyam, which makes his shot fly off to the side.

The boy frowns, but his lips soon lift as he turns to greet his father. "Hi dad."

"Hello, my son." He nods. His smile turns a little more stern as he turns to Neytiri. "Hello, auntie Tiri. What's going on?"

Neytiri opens her mouth to speak, but Neteyam taps her thigh and mouths a little something. It's not hard to read his lips, nor had he tried to hid it so hard, but Jake looks away out of respect.

Auntie Tiri nods and looks back up to Jake, "I figured he needed some practice."

"He practiced this morning."

"I know." She raises one hand up in surrender, "Practice makes perfect." She ruffles Neteyam's hair. Though coming from his dad it was annoying, it is apparently endearing coming from his aunt. "Could I talk to you in the house?"

"Of course."

She hardly waits for him to reply before she pats Neteyam on the head again and says, "I'll be right back, keep practicing."

Neteyam nods excitedly. However, Jake stops him. "No, put that down." It dampens his son's spirits, but he nods. Both of them know that something could go wrong if Neteyam practices unsupervised.

Neytiri rolls her eyes, but doesn't protest. Instead, she heads inside, Jake close behind.

"What is it that–"

"Your son, our kid, " She begins with firmness. "he came to me asking me to help him improve."

"What? He's only seven." Jake reasons, "Why would he?"

"He's your oldest." She replies simply. "Your heir, the next Olo'eyktan. There's a lot of pressure that comes with that." She spoke with experience. Between you, him, and her, she had so much more experience. He wonders sometimes how they've come to this arrangement, if she could be a better mom than he, a dad.

"Yeah… I know. But I don't give him any pressure. I make sure of it." Does he really? Are each of his words premeditated, thought out?

"He's only a year older than Lo'ak and Kiri, but he already has it ingrained in him that he has to protect them." Neytiri crosses her arms, giving him a pointed look, "Like you said, he's seven. He still deserves to be hugged and kissed."

"I try to."

"You try to?"

"It's hard when, you know…" He sighs, "your parents coddled your brother more than you."

She purses her lips, thinks it over. "I may not know about you and your brother," She begins on a lighter note. "but I know that you can relate your experiences with him with our children, your sons. At least you know what not to do. Just make sure they know you love them, and that they are still children that should play, while you still can."

"Yeah." He nods, "I will."

☾⋆☆⋆☽

The children played with each other, for once not beckoning their parents into play or sparking arguments between each other.

So for the first time in a long time, you had some moments of peace.

"He reminds me a lot of Neytiri, Neteyam." You spoke in a hushed voice, wary of their young ears.

"How so?" Jake squeezes your shoulder, his arm wrapped around it.

"His smile. It's a lot like hers. Toothy, isn't it?" He was smiling right now. Though it didn't compare to some of his biggest moments of joy, his smile still displayed his growing teeth. It was adorable.

He only has to think of it for a moment before agreeing, "Yeah."

"He's good with his bow. Don't doubt that he'll make a great hunter one day. And his love for Ikran..." Your face lights up at the memories, "even though he doesn't have one."

"About that, love..." Jake begins solemnly.

You turn to him, away from your playing children, at his serious tone. "What is it?"

"Neteyam," He glances over at the boy. Thankfully, he hadn't heard him speak his name. He lowers his voice and continues, "Neytiri told me he's been trying to get better at using a bow."

"Hm, well, he's probably trying to impress us."

"And that he wanted to protect his siblings. He feels," He purses his lips, "like its his responsibility. It's what he worries about."

"Does he?" You huff, "He has asked a lot lately, about the dangers of the jungle. I thought he just wanted to look out for himself, but now that I think about it..."

"He wanted to know so that he could keep his siblings safe." Jake finishes for you.

"Hey, I wanted to play with it!"

"I had it first!"

Before either of you can act, Neteyam stands first. He gives you only the smallest of glances before pushing his siblings away from each other.

"What? Hey!" Lo'ak shouts.

"Go away, Neteyam!" Kiri struggles against her brother's hold.

At his sudden interference, the toy falls to the ground. Neteyam kicks it to his feet. "Stop fighting!" He hisses at the both of them, making them falter. "It's either one or the other. Got that? You can take turns."

"Me first!" The children scream simultaneously, Kiri finishes her sentence first by a millisecond.

"Ugh." Lo'ak groans, but he begrudgingly kicks the toy in her direction. "Fine, you can have it first. But you get ten minutes!"

Kiri grins, picking up the toy, "That's good enough."

With the argument over, Neteyam smiles. He turns back towards his own toy, but not before sparing a not so subtle glance in your direction. Seeing your encouraging smiles, his own grows larger.

"He didn't need to do that."

Jake nods, "But he did, anyway."

"You're right." You shake your head with a sigh, "We should wait for the right moment to tell him."

☾⋆☆⋆☽

That moment doesn't take long.

Lo'ak had grown restless at home, and even more at the village, so he proposed one thing: to let him and his siblings explore the jungle. It wasn't a surprising proposal, you'd allowed them to do so many times before. Neteyam, Kiri, and Lo'ak often explored the jungle; so, you allowed it without a thought.

The jungle was a beautiful place, one you were proud to call home, so you were happy that your children were falling in love with it too.

However, as curfew grows closer and your children do not return yet, your worry begins to grow.

The children had shown time and time again that they knew curfew, knew the way home, knew to come back safely. You trusted them to come back.

Your rapidly growing concern and restlessness burst, and you must find them yourself. As much as Jake had reassured you, as much as you wanted to trust them, something was clearly wrong. You had to find them.

As you mount your ikran, though, they emerge from the tree line.

Neteyam and Lo'ak prop Kiri up, helping her walk. They've got her arms around their shoulders. Together, the three of them, they're mismatched. Lo'ak wishes to run, Neteyam doesn't want to injure Kiri further, and she is weak.

You're quick to whisk Kiri up and bring her inside, whilst Jake grabs a hold of his sons and brings them in too.

You place Kiri down on your hammock, "Where does it hurt?"

"My side." She yells back, her eyes spilling fresh tears. She was scratched up everywhere, from her arms to her knees, but the most concerning gash was on her side. It was a long cut, spanning from her belly button to her chest.

"I got you, baby girl." You assure.

While you rush to patch up Kiri, Jake squats in front of his sons and questions them. "What happened?"

Neither boy wishes to speak, but between the two of them, the culprit is clear. Still, he knows that he has to wait for them to speak up. If Neteyam speaks first, Jake will know what the boy has burdened himself with. If Lo'ak speaks, he will know that the boy has the responsibility to admit his own faults.

Regardless, because none of them speak, Kiri does. She clearly wished to have the culprit, which inadvertently caused her injuries, be punished. "Lo'ak led us to a forbidden area!"

"No I didn't!" Lo'ak bites back.

"Yeah, I did." Neteyam steps forward and puts an arm in front of his brother in order to shield him from his father's impending scolding. "I convinced them it wasn't such a dangerous place."

There it was. Neteyam taking the blame. He took protecting his siblings so far, that he was willing to take the blame and the punishment for what Lo'ak did. Jake hated it, hated that he reminded him of his brother so much.

"Neteyam, you and I both know you know the dangers the most." Jake points a finger at him, "So step back."

The boy follows his instructions, but for once, not obediently. He looks down at the ground and backs off with a subtle scoff.

"Oh, so now you decide he's not to be believed?!" Lo'ak huffs, crossing his arms. "I didn't–"

"You did." Jake interrupts him, "And I need you to admit it."

"Fine!" Lo'ak shouts, "I did it! But I didn't think it would be so dangerous."

"I know that, son." Jake says, placing a hand on his shoulder. Lo'ak tries to shake it off, but he ultimately fails to do so. He settles on ignoring its heavy presence. "But you're still responsible for the consequences."

"I didn't mean for Kiri to get hurt." The boy mumbles.

"Tell that to her."

"I'm sorry, Kiri." He mumbles that too, but Kiri hears it anyway.

Though she rolls her eyes, something Lo'ak can't see because you cover her body with your own as you work away, and accepts the apology, "Fine." She hisses slightly, which Lo'ak mistakes as directed to him. The sound makes him falter.

"The two of you, listen to me." Jake places his other hand on Neteyam's shoulder, pulling the brothers close to each other.

"You should listen too." You tell Kiri. She nods.

"You should all to take care of each other, equally. That means protecting each other. Not just you, Lo'ak; not just you, Kiri," He nods in each of his kids' directions, "not just you, Neteyam. You got that?"

Neteyam nods immediately, while Lo'ak nods with a scowl and eyebrows knitted. He was displeased to be asked to act just like his stuck up brother.

"Hey." Jake shakes his son not so gently to make sure he is paying attention. "Lo'ak, I need you to protect your siblings. Because, in this world, it's not just you. It's all of us, it's this family. Your brother, your sister, they need taking care of. And if we're not there, who will do that? You. You have to."

"It's not an "if he can't do it, then I have to"." You cut in to add, "It's not a toy to be passed around. It is something you should all be doing, all the time."

"Today was just an example. Tomorrow," He gestures to the side with the nod of his head, "if things do not change, worse things can happen."

"Okay." Lo'ak nods. Though the solemn look on his face is new and different, it meant he was taking it seriously.

Jake nods too, "Good. Neteyam," Knowing that the boy will be much more affected by his words, Jake keeps it simple. "that means it's not all up to you. Don't take the fall for things you didn't cause."

"Okay." Neteyam agrees too.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Auntie Tiri loved to visit the kids. Though she knew she wasn't their mother in the family sense, she still thought of them as her own children. You weren't one to complain, much as you teased her, because it meant you and Jake could have some time of your own.

"Second time this week?" You laugh, greeting Neytiri at the entrance. "It's only just beginning, too."

"If I birthed them, I at least get to raise them." Neytiri argues. The words don't make much sense to the children, thankfully, or else you would have a lot of explaining you weren't quite ready for.

You roll your eyes and let her in. As she passes you, you walk outside. Behind you, you hear screams of delight as the children see Neytiri.

After Jake says his temporary goodbye's, he follows you outside.

He lets out a sigh of relief as the even fresher air of the outside washes over his face. "It's been a while since we got to be alone, right?"

"Just two days, my love." You remind him. "Neytiri visited two days ago."

"Hmm," He snickers, "right."

He lets out a yawn, stretches his limbs far up into the sky. As he brings them down, though, one arm not so subtly wraps around your waist. Even less subtly, it pulls you close to his side. "Wanna go for a walk?" He offers nonchalantly.

You chuckle, placing a hand a on the one he's got around you. "Sure."

The benefit of being alone with each other often was that your children were not responsibility for the tiniest of moments. It also meant you didn't have to speak of them.

But usually, as your children are the light of your life, most things end up being about them.

"Your hair's starting to dread up, love." You remark, wrapping the end of one of his locks around your finger. It was just a little strand, but the hair above clumps together.

"Ah, well, I don't have the time." He sighs, "Between Olo'eyktan duties, giving advice to folk, taking care of the kids..."

"I could braid it for you." You offer.

"I heard that takes a long time." He says, but he's done more than hear it. He's witnessed it, seen your children slouched over themselves, falling asleep whilst your fingers still nimbly worked on their braids. "Don't know if I've got enough."

"Well, we can keep it dreaded." You shrug, "Whatever you like."

"What do you like?" He retorts.

You roll your eyes. "Whatever you like to wear will be what I love, Jake."

"That's an awfully sweet," He begins slowly, coaxing a soft smile out of your lips. "lie. Too uncharacteristic of you, my darling."

You laugh. The sound is... young. It sounds young. You've known each other for seven years now, been parents for most of that time, and you've matured so much since the first time he laid eyes on you. Those laughs, ones without the worry of your children or responsibilities, had seemed forgotten. He's glad it's still there.

The conversation falters and you fall to comfortable silence; but something picks at Jake, at the back of his mind.

"Is there..." He pauses, not too sure if he really wants to mention it. He's already started, though, and he does feel as though it is something that should be talked about. "anyone Lo'ak reminds you of?"

"Lo'ak..." You hum as you think, "well, Lo'ak is his own person. He's a special kid. There's no one quite similar to him. Why do you ask?"

"He reminds me of myself. My younger self." Jake says. It was the original thing he wanted to say.

"Oh."

"Reckless, quick to jump into a fight, defensive, couldn't take the blame... I couldn't take anything seriously." He lists off things, each one putting a dampener on his mood. "A child in a man's body."

His lowering spirits were affecting yours, so you stop your walk to make sure your next words are registered fully. You take his hands in yours and begin, "Some of those things aren't always bad. Defensiveness means, well, you're protective of your loved ones. And not taking things so seriously... you can always make me happy. You can lighten any situation. As for the recklessness, well, it was always funny when you failed at some Na'vi things."

"Hey!"

"What I'm trying to say is, you're still defensive, you're still humorous in harsh situations. These are both things of your younger self and the self that stands before me." You bring a hand to his cheek and he nuzzles against it. "They are part of who you are; and those same things, they're part of who Lo'ak is. If we tried to change them, Lo'ak wouldn't be himself. All of those traits are bad at varying degrees. If we teach him correctly, he can still be himself. Less reckless, more serious, but still himself."

Much as an annoying rascal he was now, it was the Lo'ak Jake still loved, has loved for seven years. He couldn't imagine his son any other way.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Everyone loved Neteyam. It was hard not to.

Lo'ak and Kiri, on the other hand, often received many stares. It was harder for them to make friends outside of the family; harder to avoid the comments about their fingers and eyebrows. Though Lo'ak had a penchant for an argument (which had lessened ever since you began parenting him better) this was where he and Kiri agreed.

When Neteyam played with his friends, Lo'ak and Kiri often stuck together. Their differences and toy-sharing difficulties were pushed aside.

Neteyam often tried to coerce his friends to play with Kiri and Lo'ak, they were only a year younger after all, but it usually devolved into asking them why they had such funny fingers.

Jake and you often noticed it. You saw your children's awkward, uncomfortable faces. But you knew things would only be worse if you interfered. Children were often like that, picking at the little things. Just kissing your children would earn them the nickname of "sempuyä 'evi". Besides, they needed to be independent.

It was a matter that sparked concern between you.

"I was right about their differences." Jake grumbles. He subtly observed his children from above, at a high point in the village. Less people were going to spot his vigilant dad behavior up there.

"They'll make friends eventually, find people who don't care." You reassured him, but you spoke it into the world because you were really wishing for it to happen.

"Like you?" He muses.

"If you want a comparison point." You let out a little laugh.

Jake wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you close. Just then, a little someone breaks through the crowd of nosy kids and sticks their hand out.

Rather than judging your children or pointing out their differences, they exclaim "Wow that's so cool!" so loudly that you can hear it from up there. It warms your heart.

Lo'ak eventually found friends that actually deserved him. Kiri, on the other hand, well, the friends found her. Unfortunately, it was after that that she discovered she actually preferred alone time better than having so many people around her, disturbing her thoughts with constant chatter. So, she didn't often talk with her friends. The only thorn on her side, though, was the human kid, Spider. She tolerated his presence often. She actually even seemed to like his voice.

But while they had gotten over that problem, Jake was still worried.

☾⋆☆⋆☽

Your children had yet again become a year older. In the past year, you'd taught them all so many things. You made sure Neteyam, Lo'ak, and Kiri were all protective over each other equally; that Lo'ak learned how to control his recklessness and maintain his humorous attitude; that Kiri felt connected to Eywa.

You knew that, when you allowed them to be on their own, they would be just fine.

After seven years of taking care of your children so actively, you no longer had to worry so much. It was sort of a relief.

Naturally, though, you sort of missed it.

"I want another kid."

"What?"

"Another girl would be nice." You hum to yourself, "She'd be the cutest little thing."

Once the initial shock wears off (because you don't just mention that out of nowhere) Jake finds himself agreeing. He, too, missed coddling his children. "Yeah, she would."

"Did you ever get a copy of the picture Norm took of you?"

"Of course not." Jake grumbles. "It's embarrassing."

"Only because you make it." You snicker, booping him on the nose. He responds by scrunching it up and flinching back. "I think it's rather cute."

"I only think Kiri was cute." He wipes his nose. "We can talk to Neytiri and–"

"I want her to be yours."

"What? But–" Jake shakes his head profusely, his eyebrows knitted together. "I can't have another kid turn out like... like me."

"Five fingers and eyebrows?" You ask.

"Yes." He replies immediately. "I can't have her be... different. Lo'ak and Kiri, they struggled to make friends because of their differences."

"You know that Lo'ak made his own friends."

"It took time." He argues, "Don't you remember his face, every time he came back home? It was horrible. In fact, he asked you to pull him onto your lap and kiss his cheeks over and over just for reassurance. Which–"

"Which he asked for because he loves me, not because it's uncharacteristic of him." You say, implying that Lo'ak loves you more.

Jake rolls his eyes. "I don't want to see another kid go through that again. I just want another normal kid that'll make friends flawlessly."

"There's nothing wrong with being special." You take his hands in yours. His hand was only bigger because of his extra finger, which wraps around your hand. You bring it up to show him, "Nothing better with being normal."

"Why... why can't you do it, then?"

"Because," You begin, smile lighting up your face. "even you still haven't gotten over your differences." Jake looks away. His silence to the accusation is as much of an answer as affirmation is. "This child will be proof that your differences don't make you any worse than a regular Na'vi. Because you are on of the people. You are the Olo'eyktan. You are one of us."

"How do you know?" He grumbles, but he was starting to believe you. "Did Eywa tell you, or something?"

☾⋆☆⋆☽

With Tuktirey, you couldn't be any happier.

And she came out, as promised, with four fingers and hairless browbones.

She was a pudgy little thing, and everyone loved her. You could see it in their eyes and their smiles that the kids loved her at first sight. Their toothy grins would grow even wider when they each got to carry her; even if Lo'ak nearly dropped her.

Though she couldn't even speak and hardly babbled, you could tell that you would come to love her.

You held Tuk in your hands, laying your head over Neteyam's legs. He made for a bony pillow, but you loved him so much you could get over it. Jake hugged Lo'ak with one arm. Kiri was sprawled horizontally over the both of you, her head laying on your stomach. Your muntxatan nuzzled his nose into your neck as he spoke, "I met your sempu while I was training."

"He fell from the tree branches onto the mud at my feet." You explain less graciously, causing an uproar of laughs from each of your children.

"Ah-ah," Jake breaks up the mocking laughter, "you say it's like Eywa sent me to you, no?"

"Okay, fine, I guess." You roll your eyes playfully.

Jake laughs. You can feel the deep rumble of vibrations going through his neck against your shoulder. "It was love at first sight."

☾⋆☆⋆☽

ᴍᴀʏʙ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ 2: it's a cute prompt, of course, could fulfill it with headcanons, however I wanted some Lo'ak and Neteyam struggle + scared father Jake - one of these scenes (if you saw it, you know the scene) was made using the dialogue of this incredibly fucking cute fanart. It's just Lo'ak instead of Neteyam here. - I made Jake a better father because his kids deserve better

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