#so my dads had a full nest basically forever

[rainybraindays]

Was on the phone with my brother and I mentioned that I think our dad is afraid of empty nesting once our sister leaves and he immediately goes "I think I'm gonna have to talk to him."

Can't believe they're gonna have an intervention for him because of this

[courtofjurdan]

One Chance part 17

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A/N: Hey peeps, I know it has been ages since I updated this, but here I am with an update. By the way, when you see “~”, it means its switching to past and then when you see another one, it goes back to present. And I got all my info from google and tv shows for this chapter so if it is not entirely right, I’m sorry. This is the last chapter. I have an epilogue planned also. I hope you enjoy this!

Jude felt pain ripple through her stomach and then felt wetness down her leg. She looked down expecting it her water to have broken but instead she was met with blood. As the pain intensified, the blood got worse.

“Cardan.” “Cardan!”

At that moment she realized she was at home alone. She went looking everywhere for her phone. Finally, she found it on the kitchen island, and called for an ambulance immediately. She called Cardan next telling him to either hurry and come home, something is wrong with the baby, or meet her at the hospital when the ambulance arrives.

Cardan hurried home from his job. He got there after the ambulance arrived. He went with her to the hospital and she was admitted quickly. They needed to do an emergency C-section before anything worse happens to the baby. They rolled Jude to the operation room, Cardan right behind her getting dressed in sterile paper clothes.

She gave birth to her baby, and the whole room was silent. You could hear a pin drop. Jude began asking, “Why isn’t she crying?” She looked to Cardan who had tears running down his cheeks and she knew her worst fears were being confirmed. She started to scream, “No, no, no…”

“No!

“Jude!” Cardan put his hands on her cheeks. “Wake up, baby. It’s a dream.”

Jude opens her eyes, tears falling out. Her breath coming in pants.

“Take a deep breath with me.”

Jude copies Cardan breaths. After she is calmed down, Jude says quietly, “She was dead and I couldn't do anything about it.”

Cardan knew what she was talking about. He put his hand on her very swollen stomach, “Look she's okay. You feel her kicking and moving around in there?” A nod of her head. “That means she is happy and healthy in there. There is nothing to worry about.”

~~~ Jude is 38 weeks now. She’s now very round, extremely emotional, and has crazy nightmares all the time. Cardan is always there to comfort and care for her around the clock.

Two months ago Jude and Cardan moved into the house his dad had bought for them as a gift. It was a two story house with 5 bedrooms and 3 full baths. They decided to get a house where they could live forever. A house they could fit their ever growing family.

Cardan got closer to his dad. His dad finally met him halfway into wanting a relationship with him. They met at least once a week for dinner or coffee. Cardan got a job at his company, a very good paying job. Unfortunately for Jude, Madoc still hasn’t wanted to mend their relationship, but Jude is okay with it. She doesn’t want someone that doesn’t want her.

When Christmas came around five months ago, they decided to have everyone get them baby stuff rather than presents for themselves. They basically had a baby shower for Christmas. Jude liked it because she is not a fan of planning parties or events.

It’s now the end of May, and Cardan and Jude finally graduated from college. They got to do virtual college because of the current predicament they were in. They only had to go to some classes, but mostly they did it from home. Definitely this last month, Jude just wasn’t feeling up to do stuff. She is always tired and sore, and just needs to take it easy. ~~~

Jude looked back at Cardan as he wiped her tears away and put her hand over her stomach to feel her baby kick. She repeated Cardan’s words, “She’s okay. She’s okay. She’s okay.”

Cardan kissed her cheek. And rubbed her back as Jude processed everything.

Then she grunted, “I need to pee. So help me up before I pee in the bed.”

Cardan laughed before he got out of bed and helped Jude steady her feet on the floor.

~~~ Jude has to pee a lot. Cardan swears she has to pee every 20 minutes. Which means Cardan has to help her every 20 minutes. But he doesn’t complain to her, it’s half his fault that she does, but he wouldn’t change it for the world.

Cardan never realized how hard it was on women to grow a baby. He thought they just gained weight and got tired but no, he was wrong. He didn’t know how uncomfortable Jude would be as time got closer. He didn’t realize how swollen her feet would become, how sore her back would be, the amount of loss sleep because the baby was restless or she was too uncomfortable. It made Jude so strong in his eyes.

Jude’s chosen family, Van, Liliver, and Garret, and her blood/adoptive family, Taryn and Vivivenne, were always there for her. And her family was excited to see their niece and become aunts and uncles. Her chosen family was surprised when Jude came to them and mentioned about them being aunts and uncles for her little one. She explained to them that they were more than just best friends. They were more like brothers and sisters to her. They all had an unbreakable bond with each other.

Jude and Cardan have set up the nursery. Jude insisted that she wanted a faerie book style room. And Cardan gave that to her. It’s a room any little girl would want, and when it came to Cardan, he would give anything both of his girls asked. But seeing Cardan trying to put baby furniture together was the best thing Jude has ever seen. She sat in a rocking chair every night watching him struggle, it was the best entertainment. At one point, he decided to call for backup, and Van and Garret came in and helped. So then Jude got to watch all three of them struggle together. But they eventually got it put together.

Jude has started to have Braxton-Hicks contractions for about a month and a half. Cardan hates them. Everytime she has one and she stills, he starts to freak out and Jude has to tell him it’s fine and calm down. It’s not like he feels the pain from them. But Jude is secretly happy he’s there for her and he cares so much about how she feels. ~~~ Once Jude goes to the bathroom, she asks Cardan if he will make breakfast for her. Her breakfast included popping some toaster strudels in the toaster and putting the rich icing on top. Jude basically has been craving anything sweet. So if it’s sweet, Jude wants it.

They eat breakfast and Jude decides to go to the baby room and go through stuff/ organize. She is nesting. She has gone through the hospital bag about three times already, she’s organized the kitchen several times, she cleans everything that she is able to, demanding Cardan to clean the stuff she can’t. And again, Cardan does it, because he doesn’t want to be on Jude’s bad side at the moment.

When Jude was resting from her organizing, Cardan got ready and left for work for his dad’s company. Cardan insisted that he stay with her until the baby is born but she said she would be fine alone. In the end, Liliver came over the days Cardan had to work. Liliver liked to call it their “girl time” before the baby got there.

It was about 7 o’clock pm when Jude decided to get a shower. Cardan was off at 8, and he was bringing home food which was right up her alley.

Now dressed in her pajamas, which consisted to be some stretchy legging and Cardan’s t-shirt, she made her way back to the bedroom. When she met the threshold of the bathroom and bedroom, she felt wetness run down her leg. She paused. All she could think was “Is this really it?”

She called for Liliver. “Hey, Bomb!”

Liliver was there in a couple of seconds. She saw Jude’s pale face and immediately asked, “What’s wrong?”

Jude stuttered, “Umm I- I think my water broke.”

Liliver looked down and saw the puddle of water gathered at her feet. “Oh okay, yeah. So, let’s just go sit down on the bed, I’ll clean that off the floor, and I’ll go call Cardan, okay?”

They slowly made their way to the bed. Liliver got a towel and put it over the fluid to dry it up, and got her phone out and called the man of the hour.

“Hey Cardan, I need to come home. Now.”

There was a pause. And then he seemed to find his words, “Uh, why? What’s wrong?”

“Well, all I have to say is ‘are you ready to go have a baby?’ Jude’s water broke.”

Heavy, nervous breathing came back to her, “Oh my gosh, really? Okay, okay, I’m leaving now. Is she okay? Crap, no she’s probably not okay, what am I thinking, she’s having a baby. Do I need-”

Liliver stopped his rambling, “Cardan, stop, Jude needs you to come home. Everything’s okay right now. I’ve got it handled.”

“Okay, I’m leaving right now.” With that he hung up.

Bomb helped Jude get some shoes on and braided her hair so it was out of her face. Knowing if it was down, all her hair would stick to her face from the sweat that was already starting to bead on her head as her contraction got stronger.

After she finished having one, Liliver asked, “Jude, have you been having contractions today?”

Panting, she said, “Yeah. I thought it was just Braxton-Hicks contractions, but I guess I was wrong.”

“Why didn’t you tell us? Cardan would have stayed home with you.”

Jude glared at her. “Exactly, Cardan would have stayed home and fussed over me. I don’t want someone taking care of me, I’m a big girl.” No, what Jude didn’t say is that she’s scared. And saying it aloud makes everything a reality, and she is not ready to admit that yet.

Not fifteen minutes later, Cardan comes through the front door. He walks quickly to their bedroom. He sees Liliver and Jude on the bed. The former rubbing Jude’s back through her contractions.

Cardan bends down in front of her and gives her cheek a kiss. He grabs her hand and waits till the contraction passes, rubbing small circles on the back of her hand.

When it is over with, he tells Jude, “I’m going to change my clothes real quick, and we will head out, okay?”

Jude nods her head. Cardan can tell how nervous and stressed she is.

He gets up, changes into some sweat pants and t-shirt, puts some Nike high tops on, and goes back to Jude, bending down in front of her, “Okay, you ready?”

Tears immediately fill her eyes, which isn’t a shock, she cries about everything these days, but when her body starts to shake with nervousness, Cardan knows this isn’t her just being an emotional basket case.

He immediately has his hands cupping her cheeks, “Hey Love, what is it? What’s wrong?”

A sob wracked through her, “I’m scared, Cardan, I’m so scared. What if I fail her? What if something goes wrong?”

He put his hands on either side of her stomach, “Hey I’m scared too. But guess what? We get to meet our little princess today or tomorrow, and that’s all that matters. She is going to be so loved. You’re going to be an amazing mom, I know you will be. She is going to love you so much. It’s okay to be scared, but don’t doubt yourself.” He gave a kiss on the lips. “You’re so strong, nothing is going to go wrong.”

Jude opened her mouth to reply, but at that moment a contraction hit her, and the words dissipated from her lips. But Cardan was there to rub her back, and tell her to breathe.

After it was over, Cardan grabbed the baby bag from the living room and headed out to the car with Jude. Liliver promised she would clean up a few things and lock the house before she leaves. Cardan thanked her, internally grateful for such a friend.

Cardan helped Jude into the car, and then got into the driver's seat. He blew out a big breath, and a wide smile bloomed on his face. He looked at Jude and said, “Let’s go have a baby.” He leaned across the middle and put his hand on Jude’s belly and kissed her lips excitingly. It made Jude smile right back.

The car ride wasn’t too bad. Even though Jude grunted and cursed, she didn’t complain once. She held onto Cardan’s hand while he drew circles on top of it, asking if she was okay. Which just aggravated her.

Once arriving at the hospital, the nurses took her back to a room. The room had machines, obviously a hospital bed, a chair for Cardan, and in the corner was a little bed for the baby to be checked out in. It was so surreal to them.

Cardan helped Jude change into her hospital gown, and helped her lay in the bed. The nurse came and put monitors on her stomach, one looked at the baby’s heartbeat and the other could tell when contractions came and how strong they were. The nurse then started on IV to put her on some fluids.

Doctor Tatterfell came in to check how far she was dilated. Which was a 5, she couldn’t believe she was already halfway there. Hence, she has been having contractions since this morning so I guess it does make sense.

But now, at 10pm, the contractions hurt bad. She held Cardan’s hand like it was her last lifeline. And Cardan, the ever encouraging boyfriend, let her, and he massaged her back and whispered sweet nothings about how good she was doing and how strong she is.

She got into different positions throughout the hours to try and relieve some of the stabbing pain that pursued every 5 minutes.

After finishing having one, Jude said, “Cardan, next time massage my lower stomach and my lower back at the same time. It might help.”

So that’s what Cardan did. It seemed to be the best right now to relieve some pain. Soon a nurse came in asking if she wanted an epidural which she immediately said yes.

They again checked to see how dilated she was, and they told her she was at a seven, and then they went ahead and gave the epidural.

Soon, Jude was numb from the belly button and down. Cardan held her hand as the needle went into her back. He couldn’t believe how big the needle was though, he was very nervous for her, not that he would tell her that. But she took it like a champ. Cardan let her know that much too.

Now she was laying back down, getting in a comfortable position on her side. Cardan wiped a cold rag on her forehead, she had sweat quite a bit in the last three hours.

He laid the rag down on a tray and muttered, “You’re doing so good, baby. I’m so proud of you. Rest now while you can, okay? I’ll be right here if you need me.” He was going to sit in the chair they had provided him.

Jude spoke quietly, “You rest too.” Jude ran a hand over her stomach. “I have a feeling we won’t be sleeping much tomorrow.” She smiled up at Cardan.

Cardan softly laughed and kissed her lips right before he went down and kissed her belly.

Soon they both were resting and asleep. Jude got about 2 hours when she started to feel the numbness wear off. She didn’t wake up Cardan, wanting him to get as much needed sleep as he could get.

Taryn came in while they were still sleeping. Jude wanted someone there that could document this moment, and Taryn said she would happily record and take pictures of this monumental day.

But soon, the pain increased, which means her groans of pain got louder. Unfortunately, she couldn’t keep it quiet enough, and Cardan heard it. He rushed to her side and grabbed her hand.

After the pain subsided a little, she called out, “I feel a lot of pressure, Cardan.”

His eyebrows shot up, “You feel like you need to push?”

She nodded her head.

Cardan spoke quickly, “Okay, wait just a second, let me get a nurse.”

Cardan opened the door, went out the hall a little bit and got a nurse. In no time, Jude’s team of nurses and her doctor came into the room.

Doctor Tatterfell checked her and said, “Okay Jude, when you feel another contraction go ahead and push.”

Some nurses held her legs back while Cardan held her hand and let her squeeze it to the point of it feeling like it was breaking.

After 15 minutes of pushing, Cardan muttered into her ear, “You’re doing so good, Jude. I’m so proud of you. You’re almost done.” Cardan could tell how tired she was.

She pushed again and panted, “I can’t. I can’t push anymore. It hurts and I’m so tired.”

Cardan looked past her legs and back at Jude, “Jude, honey, you can do this. She’s almost here. She’s already crowning. We just need a few big pushes, and she’s here. I know it hurts, and you’re tired, but it’s going to be so worth it when this is all done.” Tears started to well up in his eyes.

Jude put a determined look on her face and breathed in deep, and pushed.

Cardan mumbled to her, holding her hand, “Push, push, push, push. Good job, baby.”

This happened two more times, and on the third push, Jude felt relief. She then heard her baby girl crying, and her baby was placed on her chest. She gathered her up in her arms, admiring the little body that wailed with life.

She couldn’t help the tears that fell from her eyes, couldn’t help the sob that tore from her throat. She heard the nurse ask Cardan “Dad, would like to cut the cord.”

He did, and turned back to his girls. Jude heard a sob to her right, and turned her head to see Cardan with the widest smile on his face, tears falling from his eyes.

Cardan looked at Jude, kissed her forehead, kissed the baby’s head and said, “She’s so beautiful.”

Jude sniffed. “She is.”

They took the baby away to be checked by the nurses and doctors while they cleaned Jude up from the rest of the birthing part.

Taryn was still there and did her part. She took pictures and recorded like she was supposed to. She cried while she did it. This was an experience she would never forget.

They weighed the baby and checked her height. She was 7.4 lb and was 19 inches long. Born on May 28, 2020 at 1:09 am.

Soon the nurse came back over with the baby. “Okay. Here she is.” She gave the baby to Jude. “Do you plan to bottle or breastfeed?”

“I plan to breastfeed.”

“Okay then let's see how she does.”

The nurse helped her get the baby to latch, it took a couple of tries but she did it. After the nurse saw everything was going well, she left the room along with Taryn to give the family some alone time.

Cardan cupped the baby’s head as she fed from where he stood, “Jude, you baffle me. You brought this sweet baby girl into the world, and you did amazing. You did amazing carrying her for the last 9 months. And now we get a lifetime of happiness together.” He gently grabbed Jude’s chin from where she was looking at the baby so she would look at him. “Jude Duarte, marry me.”

Jude’s eyes widened and she whispered, “What?”

“You make me the happiest man in the world. I want to live with you forever, I want to raise our children together as husband and wife. I want to attempt to be the man you deserve every single day for you and our family. You bring out the best in me. So will you make me an even more happier man if that’s even possible today and marry me?”

Jude eyes filled with more tears and she nodded, “Yes, Cardan, yes, of course.”

They kissed as the baby unlatched herself. Jude broke the kiss and looked down. The baby had gone to sleep. She looked at Cardan and smiled, “Okay, dad, are you ready to hold her?”

Cardan nodded enthusiastically and held out his arms. Jude met him halfway and gave him the baby. He sat down in his chair by the bed and gazed adoringly at her.

And for the hundredth time that day, Cardan cried. He let the tears roll down his face, unashamed. This was the happiness of his little family, his baby girl that had dark brown hair, and looked to be like golden brown eyes from the little bit she did open them, and his fiancé that blessed him with all this joy.

He looked down at his baby and ran a finger down her cheek, and with a thick voice, breathed, “Welcome to the world Liam Rose Greenbriar. I’m your daddy.”

All Cardan could think of was he was so thankful that Jude gave him one chance.

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[fluffubunny23]

Hello! I’m tired and I wanted to write my own fix it fic with my probably overpowered OC because I want to. It’s patchy, unfinished and has bad grammar and not a lot is explained about my OC but I’m exhausted and am going to bed. I’ll fix it and maybe add more tomorrow in a reblog. I have not proof read this at all and am not going to. Had to get all my ideas on here while they were fresh.

So things you need to know:

His name is Peter

He’s a very powerful alien friend of douxie and has been for a while now

Just imagine Peter Pan (yes that’s where I got his name from) wearing all black, really tall guy, kinda goth with really long hair styled like a rats nest

So sit back, relax, and enjoy a shitty story from a angry, tired first time writer who hated the movie ending with no reset and no one dies!

Begin story!

‘Hey doux, I heard what happened, what’s going on-‘ he stopped, noticing what was going on around him. A boy was talking about fixing everything and bringing everyone back. Why would he be- Oh no.

He was going to time travel

‘NO’ he said, making a bat and hitting the gem a mile away before it can be use

‘Look, I’ve been where you are, time travel is dangerous and won’t fix everything like you think it would!’ ‘But-‘ Jim started ‘no. Hold this’ he said, shoving the bat into Jim’s hands and pushing him aside.

Kneeling down next to Toby's body, he began to focus his energy on him and closed his eyes. When he opened them, he was floating in a dark space. A shine of light caught his eye.

He saw Toby, slowly floating up towards the light source.

‘Hey!’ He shouted ‘Hey, kid!’

Toby turned to look at him.

‘Woah, are you an angel?’ He said wide eyed

‘No. I’m here to take you back. If you want to that is. Your friends really miss you. I think your best friend was about to do something rash to get you back too.’

‘Wait I can go back?! Heck yeah man, take me!’

With a flash of light he was back, sore and a bit light head, but he was back. ’TOBES’ Jim shouted hugging his now alive best friend.

‘How..how’d you do that?’ Asked douxie in disbelief

‘How many times do I have to tell you? I. Am. Basically. A. God. You should know this by know man, you’ve seen me do lots of impossible stuff. You know what? I’m just gonna write a list of what I can do so you don’t almost do anything stupid like this again.’

Thank you, thank you so much

Eh, no worries kid, bring someone back is easy as long as it’s within 24 hours

‘Wait, that could mean you could bring back everyone else too!’ Exclaimed Claire

‘Wait, what? there’s more!’ He said

Yeah…do you think you can help us a little more? Douxie asked sheepishly

‘Uh, yeah sure, For the record it only works if they want to come back, I can’t force them. So, just take me to their body’s and I’ll do what I can.’

Oh, right, their body’s. Not a lot to work with there.

Let’s see, strickler was blown up, nomora was turned to stone then crumbled and bark dissintigrated into the earth.

‘What?’ Peter said, noticed how everyone looked away

‘Well, uh, about that-‘ douxie started

“They don’t have bodies do they?

“Yeah”

‘Ok then I’ll just go back and grab them before they die’

‘Hold on! Didn’t you just say time travel was bad!” Said Jim, finally speaking up after hugging Toby for what felt like forever

‘This is going to be a short visit to separate times in one jump, which I have done before, you were going to reset an entire fucking timeline with zero experience.”

Jim looked down sheepishly

‘Now, I will be right back, this should only take a moment”

With that, he disappeared into what they assumed was a time portal.

He found Strickler first, 10 seconds away from sacrificing himself

Peter immediately set to work, flying as fast as he could, the bomb was a split second from going off when he grabbed strickler and portables away. No saw them as the bomb felled the titan.

Next was nomoura, this one was tricky as he would definitely be seen, but he decided to forgo that just once, considering it’s the same people and they know what he’s doing. The portal opened just as Nari had raiser her to the sun, he grabbed her and portaled away as fast as he came before she was turned to stone completely.

Navi was last, as he came out of the next portal, he could see the Titans battle was about to end. He swooped in and found Nari as the ice was creeping towards her, just inches away from sealing her fate.

Everyone was still staring at where the portal had closed when it reopened again. This time four people stepping out instead of one, strickler, nomoura and nari all came out barely unharmed.

‘Ah, ha ha, you did it!’ Said douxie he quickly ran to nari, kneeling and hugging her tightly ‘Nari, oh thank the stars your okay”

‘Of course I did it, was there ever any doubt” he said cheekily, giving dousing a light hearted smirk as he watch everyone’s reunion. But wait, the was someone missing.

‘Hey doux, where your cat?”

He froze, then standing to meet his eyes “um well-‘ he started

Douxie. Where’s your familiure?

‘Well you see-‘ he tried again

‘Oh no, he’s not dead too is he?!, I really liked that guy, and I can’t go back so soon after doing it once’

‘No no, he’s fine. He’s just trapped in a underground troll market… with no way to get in…or out’

He let out a sigh, he missed Archie already.

‘oh thank the king’

‘Well, c’mon’ we don’t have all day

‘Wait what? What are you talking about?’

‘You’re gonna take me to where ever this underground trollmarket is and where gonna get your familiar out’

‘Peter, no, it’s impossible to get in or out of there with out a horngazzle, and even if we had one the entrench is gone, crushed under a bridge, there’s no way in” he was starting to tear up, reality setting in.

‘That’s what you think” peter said in a sing song voice

‘What are you on about now?’

Douxie, you’ve seen me create an entire house inside a tiny closet, you’ve seen me materialize food out of nothing, you just watched me bring back your friend from the dead, and time travel the rest of them here, you’ve seen me copy money so you’re never broke, you’ve seen me do lots of things. Creating a portal and doorway using your familiar as an anchor shouldn’t sound like much of a stretch, I just need you to take me to where this place is.’

‘Oh..right then’

A few moments later half of the crew where standing in front of the fallen bridge in Hong Kong. Stickler, nomoura, Nara, Toby, Jim, Steve, Eli and the akiridions all stayed behind to rest up. It was surrounded by workers clearing debris and searching for possibly injured people. Luckily due to a quick illusion spell they weren’t seen.

‘Ok, Peter, where here, now what?’ Douxie said

‘Watch this”

Peter knelt down, placing his hands on the ground, glowing green cracks started expanding around him. He began to feel every living thing near him, the group, the workers, and something big just a bit further. He dug down deeper, and felt an entire city full of people.

‘Got it’ he said, and began searching for the familiar

‘Can you see him?’ Douxie asked, feeling hopeful

That when peter felt a familiar aura, a small one in the middle of the city, there was someone else next to him.

‘Found him, there’s someone bigger with him too’

‘That must be his dad!’ Exclaimed clarie

Peter stood up, the green cracks not leaving the ground

‘Alright then, everyone, stand back’

He began pulling the cracks out of the ground and forming a circle with them. Soon enough there was an opaque portal looking doorway in front of them. When he was finished, he placed his hand at the top of it and pulled an item from it.

He handed it to douxie, ‘here, this will be the key to this place from now on, just put it against a wall and it’ll open’ turning back to the portal, ‘but for now, this portal will lead straight to your Archie’

Upon hearing that, douxie wasted no time running into the portal. On the other side, he found what looked to be a throne room. And atop the throne was ‘Arch?!’ He said in disbelief ‘Douxie!’ Said the dragon as he flew towards his familiar, both hugging each other tightly.

There was a loud crunch in the background. Douxie look up “Charlie?’

‘Oh, hello there, my boy’ charlimane said, with a mouth full of (idk, image something crunch that a dragon would eat)

“what’s all this?’ Douxie said looking back at Archie.

‘Well, um, dad and I may have killed the king when we took the kronosphere and took over this place and are now ruling with iron fists”

[2018shawn]

Can you do a blurb about Dad!Tom greeting his baby in the morning all sweet but when he greets the reader he smacks her butt, kissing her on the lips muttering a “hey babygirl” or something

ooooooOOOOkaaaay so I got a bit carried away I only intended on a few lines but ha HA here we are so anyway he was awake before you, on this particular occasion, although it was normally you up first because you woke up to the slightest sound. but toDAY, your baby had taken a leaf out of Tom’s book and had a little lay in. So when Tom flickered his eyes open, squinting at the clock on his bedside table, he panicked because he normally wakes up to the sound of you cooking breakfast or the feeling of baby trying to crawl all over him when you brought your beloved little human back to bed because you needed wanted an extra 5 minutes of chilling the EFF out because being a mum was tiiiiiiiiring - but ofc you wouldn’t change it for the woRLD.

Tom would smile cheesily as he turns onto his side, seeing you balled up in the duvet with only your head visible and looking pretty much like a lil sushi roll *insert love eye emoji*. As someone who sleeps in as little clothes as possible, he struggled to understand how you could sleep in a full set of pyjamas and the highest tog duvet and still complain you’re not warm enough. It was, however, very much appreciated when he got home late from filming during the winter months and you’d be his own personal radiator.

He watches you for a short time, admiring the way your freckles look like constellations and hair looks like bird nest, in the prettiest way possible. Although he wanted to stay and admire you for longer, he also missed the presence of baby, heart feeling 1/4 empty because you was there, he was there and Tessa was there - at the end of the bed in a lil ball - which only makes up 3/4 of your family pie. Tessa only raised her head before flopping it back to the bed as Tom stretched, legs falling over the edge of the mattress. He was careful to not wake you, taking tiny, quiet movements in order to sneak out of your bedroom with care. Pulling the door shut behind him, leaving it open just a tad, because he knew you hated when it was fully shut, he felt successful and began tiptoeing next door, peeking his head through the gap of the baby’s door.

His heart never stopped beaming, whenever he saw the little legs and little arms and especially the adorable little face - all of which you and him had created, one drunken night, but what a night it was - and he’d never felt so happy and content. The door creaked open as he pushed it and he winced at the sound, hoping not to tragically wake the baby. The closer he walked to the white crib, the wider his smile grew as he looked at your spitting image - even more so when their eyes fluttered open and bright eyes were staring back up at their daddy. The sound of baby giggles and whines filled the room, baby clutching his fingers back and forth to reach up for papa bear and tom instantly swooped down and picked up the mini human. “Hey you, did you sleep well?” Tom asked gently, supporting the baby with an arm under their little squishy bum and hand resting on their waist and the other picking up their favourite baby comforter, where they never went anywhere without. He obviously knew the baby wouldn’t respond but always talked to them like they was the besets of friends bc Tom knew he would have the best relationship with them forever and ever. “I know you slept well,” Tom answered his own questions, booping the baby on the nose with his comforter. Baby bear responded with a large yawn, stretching our their tiny arms and tom caught their balled up fist in his mouth, making the baby squeal with laughter. “you’re a lazy bum.” Tom wandered around doing the duties, fetching a bottle of milk and sitting in the chair in baby’s room as he fed them, singing stupid nursery rhymes with a personalised twist because basic Humpty Dumpty was sooOooOoOo mainstream bro.

You stood in the doorway around 30 minutes later, admiring how Tom was working on changing the diaper, tickling the youngster in between each step which only results in more baby giggles and it was the softest, softest, softest thing you’d ever heard and it made your heart BURST with pure love. The baby let out a gurgle as tom picked them up, blowing raspberries and most probably drooling all over his shoulder, but he didn’t seem to mind as he threw the diaper in the diaper bin, holding the baby’s hands up in the air and cheering when he slam dunked it straight in. Tom turned around, baby still cuddled close to his chest, and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you smiling to yourself in the door way. “Oh my god I didn't mean to wake you.”

“Maybe turn off the baby monitor next time,” you smiled, walking over and switching it off yourself. You were by no means angry, in fact, you felt completely the opposite after your extra 30 minute lay in and almost felt like a new woman. You walked over to both papa and baby bear, placing a gentle kiss on both humans cheeks, smoothing your fingers over the baby’s hair because tom had not got round to the part of the routine yet.

Tom, feeling completely unsatisfied with the kiss to his cheek, pulled your arm back when you tried to walk away, spinning and pulling you back to face him in close proximity. He leant down, making sure to support the baby’s back so he didn’t do a back flip from his grasp - not yet anyway, the gymnastics sessions would come later - and pressed his lips to yours, “hey baby girl.” he muttered against you, smiling as baby giggled beside you both. He loved how natural you were in a morning, skin bright and radiant especially more so after an extra bit of kip. He pulled away, speaking to the baby as you tidied the cot, straightening all the blankets and such, “what’s that bub? you want to go back to sleep so mummy and daddy can have some grown-up time?! how kind of you...”

You crossed your arms, raising your eyebrows as you looked at the child who most definitely did not look like they wanna go back to bed anytime soon, the sun only just creeping through the blinds. “Nice try, Thomas. The only thing you’re getting this morning is breakfast.” You laughed, trying not to distract yourself and let your eyes trail down his half naked body, or think about how low his sweats hung from his hips or his hair looked like you’d run your fingers through... because that’s why he was holding your child in the first place. Turning to walk out the room, Tom caught you up, letting the palm of his hand tap against your short covered butt, jolting you forward in surprise. You turned around, Tom innocently fluttering his lashes and pointing at the baby still in his grasp. You rolled your eyes, continuing your journey out of the room before Tom did a celebratory dance with his baby, “maybe later, Tom.”

------

taglist: @imaginashawnns @fallinallincurls @cosmicholland

[hartigays]

Could you also maybe do a sick fic where Steve gets sick? I love a good angsty sick fic but I feel like it's always Billy getting sick. Thank you so much! Love you and your superbly gorgeous writing!!! 💛💛💛

steve feels like shit.

it’s the first thing he recognizes upon waking up. his head feels like there’s a construction crew drilling away at it, and his throat is on fire. like it’s been rubbed raw with some steel wool. he can’t breathe through his nose, the pressure of his congestion making his face throb.

groaning, steve burrows deeper into his covers, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to ignore the persistent ringing in his ears.

his parents are out of the country for the next two weeks. in germany, maybe? steve can’t really remember what they told him. he can’t remember much of anything right now. other than that he’s basically on his fucking own with this shit.

except - oh, god. his history midterm. that’s fucking - fuck. that’s today. steve presses the heels of his palms into his eyes, hard enough that he sees stars. rolls out of bed, lands on the floor with a soft thump.

today is clearly just not going to be his day.

steve can’t muster the energy to get up. instead, he drags himself across the floor. little by little. reaches the bathroom, throws an assortment of bottles from under the cabinet at the light switch until the room floods with light.

it’s too bright. his head gives a hearty throb. steve grips the edge of the bathroom counter and heaves himself off the ground. or tries to, anyway. it takes him a few tries before he’s upright, both of his feet under him.

getting ready is hard. he can realistically only brush his teeth and scrub on some deodorant. his hair is just going to have to look like a rat’s nest today. he doesn’t even bother looking in the mirror before stumbling out of the house.

steve doesn’t remember getting to school. he knows he drove, given that he’s sitting in the parking lot. the beemer is practically diagonal in the parking space.

he’s still in his sweats and a t-shirt, the look complete with three layers of sweaters and the biggest coat he could find. somehow, steve is both boiling and freezing. he’s definitely running a fever.

mr. osborne doesn’t comment on steve’s appearance when he stumbles into the classroom. he does, however, set steve’s exam on the corner of his desk instead of handing it to him directly. steve clumsily grabs it off the desk, trudging slowly to his seat.

the font on the paper is too small. or maybe steve’s eyes are just super out of focus. either way, it makes his brain pulse. his head feels like it’s full of wet cement, and steve is pretty sure his skin is on fire.

the room feels like it’s spinning. maybe he’s dying? steve thinks he’d be okay with that. no, he’d definitely be okay with that. if it saves him from being conscious right now, he’ll take it.

it doesn’t take steve long to just start circling random answers. he’s finding it harder and harder to stay upright and he just needs to be done. no one says a word when he drops his exam on the teacher’s desk and practically flings himself out the door.

he’s cold now. too cold. steve is forgetting rather quickly what warmth feels like. he needs to get to his car but he’s starting to forget where that is, too. he just keeps walking. ends up in the boy’s locker room.

steve slumps against a row of lockers. slides down to the ground with a groan and puts his head between his knees. if he dies here, so be it. he only wishes he’d made it the few extra feet to the showers, so he could die happily under the warm spray of water.

he must fall asleep, or black out, or something. because the next thing steve knows, he’s coming to with the sound of his name ringing in his ears.

“harrington. harrington. jesus christ.”

steve makes a noise of protest at the feeling of someone’s hands on his face. it makes the pressure in his head double. there’s a warm hand covering his forehead, and another tucked under his chin, holding his head up.

“fuck off, dad.”

distantly, he hears someone snort.

“‘m not your fuckin’ dad, harrington,” the person says.

the voice is familiar? kind of. steve’s ears feel like they’re stuffed with cotton - everything sounds distorted and distant. steve finally blinks at the person hovering in his line of sight. and - jesus. of course. of course it had to be him.

“billy? what’re you doing in my bathroom?”

the look billy gives him is both amused and exasperated. it’s an unfamiliar look for him.

“i hate to be the bearer of bad news, but…” billy starts, then pauses, brushing the sweat-matted hair from steve’s forehead. “last time i checked, this wasn’t your bathroom.”

steve blinks, glancing around. they’re surrounded by lockers and the stench of dirty gym socks. right. he’s still at school, dying a slow death on the grimy locker room floors.

“leave me here to die,” steve whines, his head falling back against the cool metal behind him. “my time has come.”

an honest-to-god laugh escapes billy’s lips. steve has to be dead. because he’s pretty sure billy hargrove is physically incapable of laughter.

“c’mon, pretty boy. can’t stay here forever,” billy coaxes once he sobers. “up and at ‘em.”

steve doesn’t move. billy doesn’t seem to care. he wedges both hands under steve’s armpits before hauling him off the ground, almost effortlessly.

and okay, steve knows billy is strong. he’s seen billy without a shirt on more times than he’s seen him dressed - he knows the guy is built like a truck. but steve hadn’t been expecting billy to be able to scoop him up with ease, like he’s nothing more than a rag doll.

it makes steve feel warm in a way that has nothing to do with his fever. it’s good that he’s sick - he likes having something to blame that feeling on. something other than the truth.

billy has one arm wrapped around steve’s waist. he slings one of steve’s arms around his neck, grabbing his hand to keep it in place. billy guides them out of the locker room with more patience than steve would’ve ever thought possible.

“where’s your car?” billy asks once they hit the parking lot, still supporting the majority of steve’s weight.

steve doesn’t think before burying his face into billy’s shoulder, shielding his eyes from the offending sunlight.

“what’s a car?”

“mother of god, harrington. fuckin’ useless,” billy groans. his voice is almost inaudible when he says, “you’re lucky you’re pretty.”

steve still hears it.

the camaro smells like cigarettes and billy’s cologne. steve lets billy tuck him into the passenger’s seat. doesn’t protest when billy leans in close to buckle him in.

the drive is a black spot in steve’s memory once again. one minute, billy is backing out of his parking space, and the next, they’re sitting in steve’s driveway.

billy pulls his keys from the ignition, then disappears out into the sunlight. a moment later, he’s guiding steve out of the car and into the house. steve is covered in a layer of sweat, so he must’ve been hot on the drive over. but he’s back to freezing again, his teeth chattering.

“you need to knock that fever down,” billy orders, kicking the door shut with his heel. “think you can handle that? i gotta get back for practice.”

steve nods slowly. billy releases him from his grip, and steve immediately folds in on himself, collapsing on the ground with a disgruntled moan.

“guess that answers that question,” billy mutters, squatting down next to steve. “you got anyone you can call, pretty boy? someone who can come stay with you?”

mentally thumbing through every person he knows, steve makes a face. shakes his head. because no, he doesn’t.

his parents probably wouldn’t fly home even if steve keeled over and died. his only friends at this point are middle schoolers. nancy is most certainly not an option. he could try jonathan, but he’s obviously still back at school and more than likely has work right after. god knows he can’t miss a fucking shift.

“‘m good. all good. super duper,” steve rambles, just on this side of delirious. “go to bed, jimmy.”

billy sighs, staring up at the ceiling with a look that screams this guy really is fucking hopeless.

“alright, alright. let’s get you in bed,” billy says, shaking his head in defeat.

he hauls steve up off the ground. somehow manages to drag steve’s nearly lifeless body up the stairs and into his room. billy tries to let steve down onto the bed gently, but steve slips from his grip and face-plants onto his mattress.

“mmm,” steve sighs appreciatively, swinging his legs onto the bed and curling up into a ball. “‘s like a cloud. soft cloud. fluffy…”

billy just gives him a look, one brow raised. “yeah? well, do me a favor and don’t leave the cloud, alright? i’ll be back soon.”

steve doesn’t remember where billy said he’s going. he doesn’t have the chance to ask, because billy disappears from his bedroom a moment later. he probably wouldn’t have had the strength to form a sentence anyway.

he lets his eyelids flutter shut. drifts for a while, in and out of consciousness. his body feels hot and cold all the while, and fever dreams do nothing to settle the tension building at the base of his neck.

the dreams are the same ones he always has, but also - not. they’re darker, more intense. more vivid. steve is pretty sure he can actually feel the bite of the demo-dog’s teeth shredding his calf. the impact of his nail bat colliding with the side of his head. the terrifying chill that settles in his bones when the mind flayer looms over him.

the life draining from the bodies of his friends.

steve comes to with a scream dying on his tongue. he sits up wildly, drenched in sweat. swings himself over the side of his bed and grabs his bat in one smooth motion. doesn’t think before swinging.

“jesus - fuck! the fuck, harrington? what the fuck - what are you doing? why do you even fuckin’ have that?”

the bat clatters to the floor, falling from steve’s hands. he looks at billy in horror, an apology stuck in his throat. “fuck, i’m - god, i’m so sorry. shit.”

“shit is right,” billy mutters. but he doesn’t leave.

he stays perched on the side of steve’s bed. leans in and rests his palm over steve’s forehead. swears under his breath when he does.

“if you’re done trying to kill me,” billy starts, still eyeing the discarded bat warily, “you need to take these. you gotta get that fever down.”

“sorry, i just. dreams. bad dreams,” steve says. a shudder runs through him, one that has nothing to do with his fever. his dreams still have his spine in their icy grip.

“that why you keep that under your bed? for some stupid fuckin’ dreams?”

steve makes a face, his cheeks burning. “they’re not - forget it. point is, i’m sorry.”

billy gives him a calculating look, his expression unreadable. then, he stretches out a hand. steve takes the concoction of pills gratefully, choking them down dry. billy rolls his eyes, grabbing the tea that steve had yet to spot from the side table and handing it to him.

“‘s good,” steve acknowledges, sipping the drink almost greedily. it warms his icicle fingers better than any blanket.

“mom’s recipe,” billy tells him, seemingly without thinking. he steels his expression immediately after, clearing his throat. “drink it all, it’ll help.”

“thanks.” steve continues to sip at his tea. “you don’t have to stay, you know. ‘m feeling better. i can take it from here.”

billy snorts. shakes his head. “yeah, good one. last thing i need is to see your dumbass on the news for trying to jump into the quarry after having one of your fuckin’ dreams again.”

that has nothing to do with steve being sick. he looks up sharply, giving billy a strange look. billy is staying with him because of his dreams now? if that’s the case, well. billy should be prepared for an extended fucking stay. steve says as much.

“beats going home,” is all billy says in response.

he gets up wordlessly, exiting steve’s room. steve hears his footsteps stomp down the stairs. continues to sip at his tea, rolling billy’s words around in his head.

it’s weird, knowing billy cares. it’s weird having billy be gentle with him, period. sick or not. but it seems like something practiced, something that billy has done a thousand times before.

he makes a mental note to ask him about that later.

for now, steve polishes off his tea. flops back onto his pillows, and falls into another restless slumber. this time, he dreams of blue eyes and heated, secret touches in dark corners.

he has to change his boxers when he wakes up.

his fever is down, though. at least a few degrees. steve gets changed, tossing his soiled boxers in his laundry basket, his cheeks flushed bright red. makes his way downstairs, noting that the sun has completely set.

steve hears the tv before he sees billy. pads into the living room, feeling his stomach flip flop at the sight of billy lounging on his couch. he just so happens to be in steve’s favorite spot, curled up under steve’s favorite throw blanket.

“fever’s down,” steve says, alerting billy of his presence. “not sure if that’s because of the meds, or the tea. either way, thanks for both.”

billy glances up at him, his brows coming together in mild concern. “you should be in bed.”

“and you should be home, not laying on my couch worrying about my sorry ass,” steve tells him with a shrug. moves to sit next to billy on the couch, eyes fixed on the tv without really taking in what’s playing.

“well. clearly, someone’s gotta.”

steve flinches, but doesn’t deny the truth to billy’s words. because honestly, he’s right. if billy doesn’t, no one will. and steve has clearly demonstrated that being on his own is not an option at the moment.

he’s about to speak, but billy beats him to it. “i, uh. made you some soup. chicken noodle, or what the fuck ever. ‘s in the fridge. just gotta warm it up.”

steve nods appreciatively. his stomach turns at the thought of food, but it also grumbles desperately. of all the things he has to eat in this house, soup seems to be his safest bet. he thanks billy before heading into the kitchen.

he’s just setting the time on the microwave when billy bursts in, waving steve away with an exaggerated sigh.

“who fuckin’ raised you, harrington? stovetop. always stovetop for soup,” billy lectures, shooing him away from the microwave.

steve watches him pull out a decent-sized pot, pouring the soup from his bowl into it before beginning to heat it on the stove.

“who raised you that made you so damn good at this shit?” steve asks incredulously, rolling his eyes.

billy clears his throat and turns fully towards the stove. doesn’t speak for a long moment, until, “mom did. ‘fore she died.”

steve swallows around the lump that has suddenly formed in his throat. “oh. i’m - shit. i’m sorry.”

all he gets in response is a half-hearted shrug, with billy’s back still to him. the silence stretches on, though it’s more melancholic than uncomfortable. soon, billy is dumping the soup back into the bowl, placing it and a spoon in front of steve.

“long time ago, harrington,” billy finally says. places the same mixture of meds on the counter beside him. “keep taking these. should knock that fever down completely by morning.”

“how’d she die?” steve blurts, then gives billy a horrified look. “jesus christ, i’m sorry. that wasn’t - i didn’t mean to pry. forget i asked.”

billy looks like he’s torn between wanting to turn and walk away, and wanting to genuinely answer the question.

steve is a little more than surprised when billy chooses the latter.

“brain cancer. she got sick a lot, during treatment. took care of her after her surgeries and shit, too. fuck knows dad never did.”

“do you miss her?” steve asks, quietly. doesn’t bother poking more at that bit of information about his father. knows that there’s a limit to this conversation.

“‘course,” billy says, his voice hot. irritated. then, that heat drains out of him, and he just looks tired. “wouldn’t you?”

steve looks down at his now half-empty bowl. feels that lonely echo bounce around in his chest. “uh, i don’t - i don’t really know. can’t say i know her very well.”

billy has this look of dawning realization on his face, before the shutters close over his expression once again. he gestures to the bowl in front of steve. says, “finish up. i’ll clean up when you’re done.”

steve does as he’s asked. if he’s good at one thing, it’s doing what’s expected of him. he’s got that going for him, at least.

true to his word, billy cleans up when steve is finished. then, heads back into the living room wordlessly. steve doesn’t ask if he’s allowed to follow - he just does it anyway. like, fuck it. it’s his house.

they take the same spots as before, but it feels different. it’s been like, twenty minutes max, but with the information that has just been shared between them, the silence between them is more amicable than anything.

“thanks,” steve says suddenly, peeling his eyes from the tv. “y’know, for helping me out today.”

billy shrugs. “‘s no big. you needed it.”

“yeah, well. you don’t see anyone else around offering a hand, do you?”

“point taken,” billy snorts. “you’ve got some shitty friends, you know that?”

“they have their reasons,” is all steve says. defensive.

because they do. steve knows that better than anyone. they all can hardly take care of themselves, much less each other. it comes with the monster-fighting territory. he’s long since gotten used to that - to them leaning on each other when the world is in danger of ending, and being lost in their own lives when things are calm.

what’s truly unfamiliar is having someone around that actually seems to want to take care of him. to offer help and support. steve knew people like that existed, objectively. he just never fucking expected billy hargrove to be one of them.

“sure they do,” billy tells him, his voice carefully neutral. “‘but ‘til they get their shit together, all you get is me.”

“‘s not so bad,” steve says, voice quiet.

steve doesn’t know if his subconscious intended it, but their knees knock together when steve says it. billy looks at him sharply, suddenly watching him like a hawk.

“yeah?”

“yeah.”

another long stretch of silence follows. it seems to be a common occurrence between them. steve doesn’t mind as much as he would’ve thought.

soon, though, that tension begins to build again at the base of his neck. it happens every time he gets a fever, feeling like someone poured a gallon of wet concrete right where his spine meets his neck. steve rubs at it with a grimace, and billy notices.

“you should go lay down, get some more rest,” billy advises, eyeing him warily.

“i don’t want to be - um,” steve starts, then breaks off in the middle of his sentence. flushes cherry red. “i mean - i want to see the end. of the movie.”

billy gives him a long look, his brows raised in disbelief. steve thinks he’s going to push that, ask more questions, but he doesn’t. he just sits up, starting to move out of his spot.

“then lay down here, if you’re gonna be such a baby about it.”

steve glares at him without any real heat. “‘m not taking your spot.”

billy huffs out a disbelieving sigh, his eyes cast up at the ceiling. “fuckin’ hell, harrington. you’ve got like, ten couches. i think i’ll be alright.”

“but you were comfortable.”

they stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, but in reality was probably only about fifteen seconds.

then, billy lays back down, slowly but surely. keeps his eyes on steve the entire time. gestures to steve, then his chest. “fuckin’ come on, then.”

steve’s mouth pops open in surprise. “wait, you want me to - you’re just gonna - me? on you?”

billy cracks a small half-smile, steve is sure of it. it’s fleeting, but it’s there. “would you quit being such a fuckin’ whiny baby about everything and lay the fuck down?”

steve moves quickly, before billy can change his mind. shifts to lay down on billy, squirming and adjusting until he gets comfortable. he’s laying pretty much face-down on billy, his face pressed into his chest. he turns his head so that his cheek is resting there instead, so he can breathe, and also so he can see the tv. billy slings an arm around him casually, eyes turned back to the movie.

seemingly completely relaxed and nonchalant.

steve, on the other hand, feels tense and stiff as a board. too scared to move, for fear that billy will shove him away and tell him to get lost.

that is, until billy’s hand comes to rest at the small of steve’s back, his thumb making these little soothing circles into one of the dimples at the base of his spine. it’s through the shirt, but steve goes pliant anyway, bonelessly relaxed. drifts off again, this time with the grounding weight of billy beneath him.

steve doesn’t dream this time. in fact, he thinks it’s the most restful sleep he’s gotten in a while. he pries his eyes open when his brain starts to come back online, an hour or so later, emitting a soft groan of appreciation at the feeling of billy’s fingers running through his hair, gently massaging his scalp.

“you okay? ‘m not hurting you, am i?” billy asks, looking down at him with mild concern.

“feels good,” steve sighs into billy’s chest, curling deeper into his warmth. “keep doin’ it.”

billy answers with a soft snort, his fingers continuing their journey through his hair.

“you’re pretty cute when you’re not tryna punch me in the face,” steve mumbles, without thinking. his eyes pop open in horror, and he sits up a little, about to begin his ten part apology.

billy beats him to the punch. “yeah, well. you’re pretty cute when you’re fuckin’ helpless as shit. and when you sleep. you snore like a puppy, you know that?”

steve is pretty sure his cheeks flush tomato red. billy thinks he’s cute. since when the fuck did that happen?

he’s about to ask, but the hand billy isn’t using to comb through his hair comes up, cupping steve’s jaw. his thumb catches on steve’s bottom lip, and he gives him a soft smile. and like, since when the fuck did that happen?

billy hargrove and soft are not two things that naturally coexist. and yet, here they are, billy holding him like he’s a porcelain doll and telling him he’s cute.

steve really fucking wants to kiss him. even shifts forward to do so, but billy stops him.

“nuh-uh. no sir. not kissin’ you while you’ve got a fever,” billy tells him, shaking his head.

steve pouts a little, but can’t help the goofy grin that spreads across his face. “but you do want to kiss me?”

“would i be touchin’ you like this if i didn’t?”

“i dunno, would you?” steve asks, voice quiet. it’s meant to come out as teasing, but he can’t help the insecurity that bleeds into it.

billy gives him a soft look. tugs steve up close, before pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. then, tucks steve into his neck, wrapping his arms around him and holding on tight. safe and sound.

“no, i wouldn’t.”

steve lets out an audible sigh of relief. it was obvious to begin with, sure. but he’s been burned before. just had to double check, for the sake of his own sanity.

“fine. but for the record, as soon as this fever breaks, you’re in for a hell of a makeout session,” steve vows, pressing a series of lingering kisses to billy’s neck.

billy just laughs, his arms winding around him just a bit tighter.

“yeah, yeah. i’m holding you to that, princess.”

and steve? well, he’s beyond okay with that. he’s never been one to break a promise, anyway.

[spoonhacks]

My Fibro Journey and How I Came Back from Rock Bottom

This not advice. But this is a true story, and it’s time I shared my Fibro journey. I was diagnosed with Fibromyalgia just as college was ending. This is not to say it began then, but it came to head enough to finally get an answer. This came about a year and a half after my Interstitial Cystitis diagnosis, and I was in BAD shape. I was 90 lbs, deteriorating, and everything winded me. The pain was constant and completely overwhelming. I had thrown every last drop of my energy into finishing my college thesis and graduating from a school I had worked SO hard at. When it finally commenced, I felt lost. I was depleted from the effort and it was 2011 and the economy was in shambles. Having nowhere else to go, I moved into my dad’s spare room in Massachusetts, miles away from the state I had always called home, my precious Florida warmth, and the love of my life. I was, unsurprisingly, miserable, and my health tanked immediately. I was cold all the time. No amount of blankets helped because I wasn’t generating my own heat. I remember spending Thanksgiving eve in the emergency room because an Interstitial Cystitis flare had caused a UTI to back up and give me yet another kidney infection and I had a soaring fever. Things were toxic with my dad. His cure for everything is to get up at 6am and be busy busy busy and I was in desperate need of rest. When it became obvious to me finding a job was not happening, I started an Etsy shop for my crafts with the limited energy I had. It pulled in maybe $200 a month but it felt good to be doing one small thing. A few months later the love of my life arranged to follow me to New England and secured a place for us in the apartment above his father’s house. We were together again but things were tense, his dad is occasionally a monster, and it wasn’t long before we were moving again. My health was awful and we were broke as a joke. I was sleeping 12 hours a day and spending the rest of my time trying to figure out what kind of life I was going to be able to have. I was severely depressed. We moved to an absolute shit-hole of a apartment in a bad neighborhood. Rent was $850/month for 280 square feet. We could barely afford it, and mostly lived off of my partner’s disability check and food stamps. My small savings was gone. We fought about money a lot. The Etsy shop brought in maybe $300 now, but it was clear this was not going to cover everything for a long time, if ever. My health only continued to decline and I felt utterly useless. Some days I was too sore to even get out of bed. The stress was unbearable as I watched everything in my life spiral. I honestly felt like if something didn’t change and soon, I was going to die. I thought back to the last thing I’d done right: my college thesis at art school. It took me forever to choose what medium to do the project in as there were a few I’d been practicing proficiently. I kept asking myself: “What am I the best at? What am I the best at?” and got nowhere. Finally I asked myself “What am I the worst at? What medium am I absolutely shit at that I would love to do but never learned how?” And the answer was pen and ink. A few months later I graduated with a pen and ink portfolio with one of two A’s in my professor’s senior class. So here I was, applying to design jobs and retail jobs and anything else I thought I might be good at with 0 responses for months on end. Then, instead, I asked myself what I was the worst at-- manual labor! After all, grocery shopping would knock me out until the next day. I realized this was insane to even consider and I might literally die. But I was so low it didn’t matter. If I continued wasting away like this I was going to die anyway. I knew this in my heart. Having cared for horses as a kid I started applying for barn jobs in the area. I remember straightening myself up and forcing myself to look energetic and animated for the interviews. I finally got a job. I was terrible at it. Shoveling for hours and pushing around a 300lb wheelbarrow, imagine! I could not lift a hay bale (they are about 65 lbs). But, I got up at 4:45 in the morning and drove to work in the snow before the plows came and always got to work on time. I worked only weekend days and by Sunday night I would have to make sure there was a crockpot meal going because I knew I would collapse at the end of the day. I cried in the car on the way home every single shift. My body was on fire. Mondays I could not get out of bed. The pain was immeasurable and I spent most of the day crying and had my partner help me to the bathroom. I spent the whole week recovering and patching myself up enough to get to my next shift on Saturday. But I promised myself something: that I would never complain, not to anyone at work, and not even to myself in my head. I imagined myself as a monk. Chop wood, carry water. I got fired. Then I got another barn job and got fired. Then I got another one and got fired again. The 4th job was still hard, but I did not get fired. I could now lift the hay bales. I gained 20 lbs (entirely muscle) and my body was completely different. Instead of being carried to the bathroom on Monday, I could transport myself to the couch and do basic self-care activities. I could do my crafts during the week again and between the two income streams I could afford my half of living expenses and was very slowly socking away a tiny, tiny nest egg that would eventually become the start up capital for my business. Two years had passed since mucking my first stall. My Fibro was not cured by any means but my IC was somewhat in remission and I was doing much better. Daily life got easier. After all, compared to hay bales, lifting the pasta pot while making dinner was less of a big deal. I eventually left the barn job and got a job doing landscaping and construction-- more manual labor! My new boss was disabled too and used a walker on the job site. He was also a Buddha in a blue collar. After having kept my illness a secret for 2 years of barn jobs I could finally tell a boss the truth and it was a relief. He understood me and always gave me the jobs I could flourish at.  I learned a lot from him, did legitimately good work, made slightly better money, and moved out of the shit-hole apartment to an art community, which was an important step forward on the path toward opening my own business and doing art full time. During the second year of running my shop I realized I didn’t need a second job anymore and that it would be the first year in the last 5 where I wouldn’t have to dig any holes.

I’d risked it all, every last drop of my health. It could have killed me. And the agony was indescribable, but I would do it again. My body is changed forever and even years since I have last worked manual labor I am still improved for it and much more active than I was in those dark years right after college. Everything I have now I owe to that one, insane decision I made at rock bottom. This is not advice. Take what you will from my story. I still despise people who say “exercise will cure Fibro if you just tried harder :) :) :)” or some stupid shit like that. None of them know how dangerous this was or how much suffering I endured. It could have easily gone the other way. There were days my partner saw the condition I was in and begged me to stop. I told him with a roar in my voice if I didn’t keep going I was going to die. I don’t regret it. I have less pain now, consistently, than I did before I went through all that and I still try to keep up my fitness level so I never go back there. Thank you for reading my story. I can’t recommend my path, but if you come away with one thing from this, just know that there is a path forward, somewhere, and perhaps in the most unlikely of places.

[98prilla]

Abductions, Past and Present

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...

“Virg? You ok?” Patton asks softly, the black still flickering at his edges, and he sighs, shoving his hand through his hair.

 “yeah. It just… it comes and goes so fast with them. One moment they’re fine, and the next they’re plummeting. I can’t brace myself for it.” Virgil replies, taking a deep breath in, and out, his form becoming more solid with each one.

 Wraiths fed off negativity. Negative feelings, emotions, words, it gave them power. They could twist the dark to their will, bend shadows into monsters, could influence people’s thoughts and actions, and turn into shadowy, ghost like beings, hence the name ‘wraith’.  

 Virgil didn’t like feeding off of people’s misery, he didn’t thrive on it like others of his kind, didn’t relish all the myths and legends borne from his race. He rarely used his abilities, only if he or one of the others were in danger, though he tended to turn intangible when stressed or worried, going from his solid, humanoid form to a shadowy mass of smoke.

 “They’ve been through so much. It’s only natural.” Janus replies softly, staring up at the ceiling. “They’re starting to trust us, though.”

 “They’re starting to trust you and Patton. Remus doesn’t like me as far as he can throw me, and he flat out despises Logan.”

 “No he doesn’t.” Janus interrupts, sitting up properly in the chair, eyes serious. “He doesn’t hate Logan, or you, for that matter. He’s afraid of you.” Virgil frowns, looking away.

 “And that’s better?”

 “Yes.” Both Janus and Patton say at the same time.

“it is. Because you can show them, every day, you can show them, that there’s no reason to fear you, and slowly they’ll start to trust.” Patton answers firmly.

 “hate is harder to erase. It stains everything, it leaves no room for accidents or mistakes. Everything you do is malicious. Fear… can be unlearned so much easier. It allows for errors, it allows for apologies, it allows for growth.” Janus finishes, sighing and stretching as he stands, wincing slightly at the ache in his shoulder. It’s an old wound, long healed, but it still likes to act up every once in a while, usually when he’s stressed or worried, both of which he is now.

 He sees too much of himself in the brothers, that’s his problem. He was young, when he was taken, had to be, else he would have known how to fight back properly, else his fangs would have been fully developed and with a single scratch he could have killed them all, but he was old enough to still have memories of his nest mates.

 To remember warmth and comfort and a soft, lulling voice singing haunting melodies through the night. To remember the laughter of his siblings, of his cousins, of all the other children of the den, to know there had been squabbles and disagreements and play fighting and always, at the end of the night, they all curled together in a pile, sprawled across and under and over each other. They were so attuned to physical touch, needed it, needed the warmth it provided, both physical and mental, losing that had been its own kind of torture.  

 At least they have each other. He can’t even remember their names, let alone faces. All he has of his mother is that distant, soft crooning. All he has of his family is the faint feel of warmth. He wonders often if it would be better if he had nothing at all. He swallows hard, realizing Patton had asked him a question, and Virgil was looking at him with concern. He swallows past the lump in his throat, shoving back the emotions that come with these thoughts, because if he lets himself think a moment longer, they will overtake the tall, sturdy wall he has built in his mind to protect himself from the ache of almost memories.

 “Janus… please.” Patton says, and he knows what he’s asking without saying it. Patton is asking him to stay, asking him not to run, asking him to talk about it, asking him for his full story, something he’s never really given, the curt summary of his history to Remus is all he’s ever told the others, but if he gives in to Patton, he won’t be able to hold it back. He won’t be able to pretend it wasn’t as bad as it was. He won’t be able to stop.

 “I can’t… pat, I trust you with my life, but I… I can’t go back there. I can’t do it all again. That’s… that’s what saying it all would be, it would be doing all of it all over again, and I can’t…” He inhales shakily, nearly jumping out of his skin when Virgil takes his hand, turning him so they’re face to face.

 “breath, Jan. In and out.” Virgil coaches softly, catching him at the edge of the abyss and slowly walking him back until the past fades away and he’s back in the present.

 “I’m going to bed now.” He says, a bit flat, a bit distant, and without a second glance, he turns and walks away, closing and locking his door behind him, before he collapses on his bed and stares numbly at the ceiling, determined not to feel a thing, until he manages to fall asleep.

…

 He can’t sleep. He doesn’t know why, he’s exhausted, he has been for nearly forever, but for some reason he can’t let it go tonight. That’s why he’s pacing the room, appreciating the soft glow of the ship, appreciating the lack of total darkness.

 The door is open, and he keeps glancing down the hallway, as if expecting something to come attack, some monster to appear, some shadow demon to charge, though really, that’s basically Virgil. But the thought of being trapped, in this enclosed space, of the dark creeping in, is too much to bear.

 He shivers again, because Virgil had apologized, about what he’d done, and meant it, and he understood, why Virgil had plunged him into that nightmare. He was protecting his family, and he understands that all too well, far too well to hold it against someone, but the residual fear still clings to him, adds another nightmare to his already long roster, and maybe he’s not sleeping because then he’ll have to experience all of it again.

 He shakes his head, raking a hand through his hair, growling under his breath, because there’s too much energy, it feels like his legs are sparking with it, and this movement of pacing is barely holding it at bay.

 Or maybe it’s the conversation from earlier, what Roman said, earlier, because despite all his reassurances, he knows Roman still blames himself for their getting taken in the first place. Which is stupid, incredibly stupid, but all his words will never dissuade Roman of that idea.

…

It wasn’t like they could have predicted it. They were camping, with their parents, an activity they did almost every weekend in the summer. Most times, they stayed close to home, just local county campgrounds with some hiking trails and jungle gyms, grilling out and sitting at a campfire telling stories until the moon was high in the sky. Those were the best, tired and sleepy, but still refusing to go to bed as the fire crackled, sending embers dancing through the air, while Dad read to them, Lord of the Rings, or Harry Potter, any fantasy book they could get their hands on.

 Usually once or twice a summer, they packed up for a longer trip, one of the cool state campgrounds up north, with real forests and towering trees and lakes, and an air of mystery that the small wooded parks just didn’t have. They always had sing a longs in the car, Disney and theater music, and twizzlers, road trip twizzlers had somehow become a tradition. Him and Roman bickered and fought on the three, four hour ride, and their parents laughingly broke it up, until they both eventually passed out, waking up when they arrived.

 This had been one of those trips. Deep, actual forest, sleeping in tents, the smell of pine and earth and crisp air all day, it was his favorite thing in the world! It was the end of their second day there, which they’d spent hiking around the lake, trying to imitate bird calls, and he had been howling, trying to attract wolves all day, much to Roman’s dismay.

 It was dark, when Roman shook him awake. They’d gone to bed early, tired out from their activities, so he wasn’t surprised to look at the battery powered clock in their tent to see it was only one am.

 “Rem. Rem, did you see it?” Roman asked, shaking him again, and he lightly shoved Roman off of him, rubbing at his eyes.

 “did I see what, Ro?” He asked tiredly. Roman’s eyes were huge as saucers, and he was practically vibrating with excitement.

 “the fairy.” He whispered conspiratorially, grinning, the gap in his bottom teeth visible where he’d recently lost a tooth. They’d both gotten in trouble for that one, but Roman had said it was wiggling, so of course Remus had volunteered to pull it out!

 “what? Ro, you were just dreaming, go back to sleep.” He replied, rolling his eyes. Roman was ten, his imagination wilder than Remus’s at times, and he sometimes had trouble telling what was real and what wasn’t. He was a proud adult, at thirteen, and didn’t believe in things like fairies anymore, though he always humored Roman. He hated upsetting his little brother more than anything, and he could tell he had now, as Roman’s lip trembled and tears welled in his eyes. He usually wasn’t this emotional, but he guessed the little guy was still a bit sleep deprived and grumpy.

 “There is! I saw its light!” He bit his lip skeptically. The best thing to do was play along.

 “Easy, Ro. I believe you did see something, just, are you sure it was a fairy, and not just someone else’s flashlight or distant fire, or something? You know fairies are very rare.” He added, so Roman wouldn’t be offended. Roman scrunched his eyes, thinking hard for a moment.

 “No. it wasn’t either of those. I know what that looks like, Ree, this was blue!” He sighed, alright, no getting out of this, then.

 “Ok. We can go check it out, quickly, alright? Put on your shoes, and we’ll look around. If we don’t see anything, will you go back to bed?” Roman nodded enthusiastically, already with one shoe half on. He grumbled and threw on a sweater, before quietly unzipping the tent door and stepping out into the night air.

 It was cool, but not unpleasantly so. The ground was already slightly wet from dew, and it was very dark. He was careful to keep his flashlight pointed at the ground, away from the parent’s tent a few feet away, shushing Roman as he came out, zipping the tent closed.

 “ok, Ro. Where did you see it?” He whispered, his voice sounding huge in the relative silence of the night. The trees swayed above in a soft breeze, and he shivered.

 “over there!” Roman whispered back, pointing towards the edge of the site. Carefully, he walked towards it, aware of the crunch of old leaves beneath his feet as he shone his light around the edge of camp. He didn’t see anything. He didn’t hear anything, either, which was odd.

 That’s why it felt so loud and eerie. There were no crickets chirping, no night birds calling, no ambient sound from animals foraging through the underbrush. It was completely, unnaturally silent.

 He swallowed hard, taking a step back, suddenly regretting all of his wolf howling from earlier. What if he really had attracted a large predator? That would explain the lack of noise, and the eerie, prickling feeling of unseen eyes on him. There could be a wolf, waiting to pounce, or a cougar up in a tree, he’d heard stories of them attacking people, they were nearly invisible in the woods, or-

 “There!” He saw a flash of light, bright and deep and blue, come from deeper in the woods, and before he could say a word, Roman was sprinting past him, chasing after the ‘fairy light’.  He cursed, and took off after his brother, unwilling to leave him alone to get lost in the woods and attacked by a bear or whatever lurked around here.

 “Roman! Wait up!” He yelled, panting, speeding up as he heard Roman let out a yell, cut short. “RO!” He screamed again, but something sharp pierced his neck and he staggered, head spinning, vision blurring as he lost balance and fell to the ground. He reached up and weakly pulled something that looked almost like a dart from his neck, shaking with effort as he crawled forwards, just managing to get to Roman before he blacked out completely.

 When they woke up, they had been in the cell. That pitch black, empty, desolate cell. The only good thing was that they were together. But they were terrified and confused and alone, and Remus had to stay strong, he had to hold in his tears, he had to act brave, for Roman.

 Over the years, they’d picked up the ‘Common’ as it was called, the language the different guards and scientists and Him spoke with, learned it on their own, though they’d never learned to read it. It hadn’t taken too long, for them to realize what was happening, that they’d been abducted, like in one of the scary movies they weren’t supposed to watch, but that wasn’t the worst part.

 The worst part was the stupid, aching, hope, that had lingered, strong and fierce for the first few days, the first few weeks, even, that they’d be let go. That’s what happened, in books and movies, the people were taken by aliens, and probed or whatever, and then put back on earth with no memory of what had happened. That hope had died a slow and agonizing death, over the months that turned to years, that turned to a decade of repeated, endless, horrors.

 ...

 He shakes his head again, trying to clear it, trying to force back those memories, because they hurt, anything from before just hurts, and he’s never had time to think of it, before. He was always waiting for the next procedure or trap or experiment, always planning his and Roman’s survival, he’d never been allowed time to grieve or think or remember.

 He tries to take a deep breath, and almost succeeds, swiping at his eyes. He feels wide awake, almost electrified, his every atom buzzing for movement, and he curls his hands into fists just so they stop shaking. He glances at Roman, who is still fast asleep, curled in bed, and sighs. Water, maybe some water will help. He’s been assured by Patton that the ship is open to him, day or night, that he’s free to eat or drink whatever he wants, that everyone shares responsibilities and chores and food on the ship, and he won’t get in trouble for using something. That doesn’t make it any easier, to cross the threshold of his room, his nerves on fire as he tiptoes past every door, holding his breath, jumping at every shadow until he makes into the common area. Again, the openness of it both soothes him and frightens him. There’s so many places to run, if he needs to, but so many places for enemies to come from, and he nearly jumps out of his skin as he hears a noise from the kitchen area, breath halting as he sees glowing silver eyes staring back at him, almost as startled as he is.

[hypnotica-ships]

how abouuuuut... 1,3 and 4 too?

Oh boy, this got suuuuuuuuuper long, but I’ve been holding a lot of this in, and I didn’t even get to mention the crow raisings...I’ve tried to keep this short and skipped a ton of things, so if you want some more info about anything, let me know, I”d be more than happy to answer! The last two questions will be under the cut, cause wow, can I talk....

1. What is your s/i's name & pronouns? Legally- Mathew E. Sionis However, only a few very close people know it, and even then they all still call him Crow. Even when he still had his deadname. No one but him and his father know what the "E." stands for. Also he goes by He/Him and They/Them. Mostly the first set though.

3. Does your s/i have a full backstory yet? Or is it still in the works? If it's done can we see it? Oh boy, do I. It's fairly messy, and you need to keep in mind that the first media I inserted myself into was DC Comics, plus I was 15 and never knew about the whole Self-Shipping Community until like last year, thanks btw. It gets dark and some spots, my bad, blame 15 year old edgelord Crow.

Let's start at the beginning yeah? Crow was born the second child to Circe, not much is know about her, and Roman Sionis who at the time had just started to make his name big in the underground crime scene, in Gotham City. She had an older brother and a younger brother, each sibling was born with some darker magic powers, but showed no sign of it at the time they were in his care. After Crow's younger brother was born (both siblings have names, but I'm a bit shy about saying who each one is, but as we'll see later, they don't really get along anyways...), their mother died. Which sent Roman into a bit of a spiral, he became incredibly paranoid. He thought the only way to save his children (who are all a year apart, so the oldest is about 2 and a half to three) was to kill them, but he had a hard time doing it directly after what he did to the older brother.... So he sent the other babies away in basket down a stream hope that would solve the problem. There was a fork in the stream, one child went one way while the other one went another. Crow's way went into a run off into a sewer, not just any sewer, (oh boy...here we go...) the Arkham Asylum sewer, where a big ole' Mr. Killer Croc found what he thought was a dead child. Once he realized the child was still alive, he tried his best to get one of the orderlies of the Asylum's attention. They....had no idea what to do, so (even though I"m pretty sure they probably would of sent the child to an orphanage...) they decided to have the inmates, with constant security around, raise the child (15 year old me had some ideas....to bad i never changed this...).

Yadda yadda yadda, time skip, Crow now has realized she has shadomancy powers and just basic magic as well, but no clue how to use em, so they 'wing it', they also have a pretty good gig at stealing things, since she can travel through the shadows real sneaky like. She finds out at some point who her dad is, and the younger brother, Crow is furious, and vows to never speak to her father ever again, but he insists on buying her love and gives her an "allowance" of like a billion a month, but she refuses to keep it all and only saves enough to live on while the rest gets sent to charity. She's about 13 at this point and has bought out an old hotel to live in that was ment to be torn down, so it's basically falling apart except for one room and the roof. Safe enough to live in though. Yadda yadda, still the same age, she meets Lonnie while looking for one of her pet crows that went into his cell at juvie, stuff happens they become friends, he finds out about her living situation, tells his folks, and now they basically adopted her. Crow and Lonnie cause trouble for a few years as a fucking awesome team. When they are around 16 or so, Jamm just shows up, and he needs a place to stay, and at this point Crow's hotel is fixed up a bit more thanks to help from Lonnie. So they let him stay in an extra room.

He now forever part of this group.

They make a band, The Nest, but it's kind of a cover up for vigilantism. At this point, since I like to keep things as cannon as possible, Lonnie fakes his death, which cause Crow to spiral, similar to how her father did when he lost her mother. It's sad and depressing time, lot of plot points, but I'll try to sum it up: Drinking problems, lots of failed relationships good and bad, possible murder, the older brother comes back and explains some stuff he may also be Satan, Crow and Jamm bonding time, and ect.

I dunno, about 18-ish now or whatever, I really don’t have the best concept of time, Crow dates Jimmy, thanks to some old connections with Lois who set them up, it goes pretty well, Crow is healing. She's not fully healed though, and Jimmy recommends getting out of Gotham since it seems to make things worse and she needs a vacation. Cool, she'll just move to Metropolis where Jimmy lives, nah, doesn't last long, but she does take a trip to Washington D.C. Crow sees a figure on the roof tops lurking around on her trip. One rainy night she confronts it, whoops, Lonnie is still alive! They end up fighting about him not telling her for a few months or so, until he finally says he's sorry. Crow and Jimmy adventures happen, (such as Crow finding out about her Uncle Guile and meets Holger and Marnie, which leads into like a year long hijinks, one relationship that ended in an uncertain way, and now Crow goes back home but has a distant little sibling now, they call and text each other now and again, even go out to lunch), but Crow is still not happy, and Jimmy takes note. Stuff happens, and he proposes.....Crow says no. She realized that she.....probably should of been a he. Crow with this knowledge dumps Jimmy, he takes it well and understands, but Crow still feels bad about it.

After, Crow moves back to Gotham, he talks to Lonnie about going about transitioning. He helps Crow with the whole process, killing whatever ill will was left form the faking death for years bit.

Crow's about 19-20 now, dates Jimmy again, he takes him to meet his cousin Archie in Riverdale. As he visits, he notices a kid and his dad. Said dad is....abusive....and Crow takes note. Stuff happens, Crow and Jimmy breakup again, but Crow moves to Riverdale, cause he needed a change and felt happy there. He remembers the dad and kid, and confronts them, big mess happens, and now Crow has an adopted son, Reggie (who's about 16). Tiny time skip, more garbage happens and then a dying bloodied kid shows up on Crow's doorstep, after helping him and saving his life he asks about the kids family, stuff happens, and now he has kid x2, Julian (also 16, but like 5 months older then Reggie, who hates that.) Stuff happens. Crow is happy with his family and the occasional visits from Uncle Lonnie and Uncle Jamm really help keep Crow sane, (a lot of trauma, a lot of mental issues here, same s/i, same) things are about to get a lot more interesting when the band Reggie is in is asked to open for Josie and the Pussycats....

4. How did your s/i feel when they first met your f/o(s)? How do they feel about them now? I decided to kinda make this a continuation of 3.

Crow was hanging out backstage of his son's performance, checking out the food and making himself a little serving even though the sign said "For band members only!". All of a sudden, a guy in a blue suit, sunglasses and a smug aura about him, slid up next to him. Crow immediately did not trust this man.

Dude asked if Crow was THEE Crow from the Nest, mentioned he was a fan, and wondered what they were up to since they went silent a few years ago. Crow answered as nice as he could, against his better judgement. This guy, Alexander, had the gull to offer him a contract to manage The Nest to "give them a second chance..." The Nest need not a second chance, if they wanted to go big, they would of years ago without this clown’s help.

Yadda yadda yadda, Alex doesn't stop pushing, and Crow ends up becoming a sort of mentor to the Pussycats, while also helping them keep their manager at bay, aka a distraction. Crow and Alex somehow become friends after he realizes that Alex was super lonely growing up and at this point Crow might be his only friend besides the Pussycats (who pay him/he pays them). They get quite close, and Crow, even though he hates that he let this happen, kinda has a major soft spot for this dork.

It took them over a year or so to finally tell each other that though. Not my fault they needed to go through a bunch of agnst/yearning adventures....

Sorry this got super long, but oh boy, did it feel good to finally get this off my chest. I clearly skipped a ton to keep this "short", but that doesn't mean I don't have those ideas fully fleshed out. So if in any point in the future you want me to elaborate, I"d be more than happy too! Thanks for the ask, and sorry to bombard you with a huge wall of text. <3

[foxtophat]

I SAID I WOULD UPDATE TODAY and i meant it!!! so here is chapter 5, which marks the end of my “mostly written out” chapters. honestly i had to basically rewrite this one already so i guess last chapter was the last one i had mostly done.  we’re in uncharted waters here on out, boys!!!

this chapter is actually the one that sort of galvanized me to write the story in the first place. i had the first 2 chapters in idea form, and then i had the plot for this chapter sprung on me and i knew i had to make this shit happen. so that’s what i’m doing, even if it’s self-indulgent trash, it’s MY self-indulgent trash!

i’m so grateful that there are others out there who are enjoying reading this fic as much as i enjoy writing it! i hope to keep going forward with the plot (such as it is), and there’s only... i think 2 other chapters that are just going to be about john and the ryes. the rest of the story will actually have other characters in it!!! which is fun, right? it’s not like nick’s friends are going to be offended and upset over john surviving, right???

below the cut is the text of this chapter, in case you don’t feel like going over to ao3. if it doesn’t fuck up your aesthetic, consider giving that lil reblog button a tap, but otherwise don’t sweat it! we’ll see each other next chapter, i’m sure :)

The whole "keeping John as a prisoner" thing starts to fall into routine around the two-week mark. It only takes a few days for John to learn to be awake by the time Nick comes in, dressed and ready to eat quick. A few days later and he's finished clearing the first story out, surprised when the job comes to an end, as if he'd really thought all Nick needed from him was a few days of house-cleaning. Joke's on him — Nick and Kim find no shortage of tasks for John to complete, which he does without complaint. He might scoff at some of the requests, but that doesn't stop him from obediently doing as he's told.

They use John to repair the roof, board up the lower windows and reinforce supports. He drags heavy debris from the house, separating the useful from the useless under Kim's watchful eye. Nick puts him to work repairing the fences that have already blown down after less than a year. One day has him scaling the side of the house, and then the next, he'll be literally down in the dirt.

Sometimes, John can work all day before Nick has to tell him to stop; other times, he'll only manage a few short hours before he looks ready to collapse on the spot. Nick suspects he isn't sleeping enough, but that doesn't mean he's getting out of anything. He has work for John even when he can barely stand up straight, like pulling screws from old shed siding and sorting through boxes of random components. The little, nearly pointless chores that have gotten put off solely for being too trifling make perfect work for an exhausted ex-cultist.

There are times, sure, when John acts... weird . He'll be solemnly working one minute, then jittery and distracted in the next. Sometimes, he'll get... uncomfortably obedient, meticulously following instructions and standing helpless when he's not being actively told what to do. But you know, even Nick's favorite drill had a wonky power-cord and a quirky backspin. He's used to making the most out of old tools like John Seed.

Two weeks is about as long as they can keep Carmina away from home while John is working. It's Kim who caves first on the issue, as they hit a wall coming up with things to do out of the house. It's easier to teach Carmina at home, for one thing. She can't get distracted or attacked by a wild animal while learning how to read or being taught history or math. There's also the fact that winter is coming on soon, and being outside all day simply won't be feasible forever. And anyway, it's safer to have two sets of eyes on John, in case he decides to pull something.

Neither of them are sure what to tell Carmina. They'd done their best to teach her about their history, but growing up in the bunker had kept her from understanding just how bad things had been. She knows about Eden's Gate, the Seeds, her godparent — but it's just a series of fables for her. She's touched Nick's scarred chest with wide-eyed wonder and hugged them through their night terrors in a way a child should never have to comfort their parents, but everything else is hearsay and tall tales. Now that they have the culprit living on their land, working for them — how are they supposed to explain that to her?

It turns out not to matter all that much. Once Carmina sees the man that's been secretly living in the house with them, she almost immediately loses interest. John had been a mysterious figure, someone her parents refused to talk about around her, but it looks like his gaunt appearance, heavy beard and long, scraggly hair has dissolved the mystery pretty promptly. Carmina takes one good look at John as he pries stripped screws from an old crate, wrinkles her nose, and turns back to homework. She doesn't even ask why he's working all the time, who he is, anything . It's such a strong dismissal that even Nick feels the burn.

It's a good thing John isn't his old, charismatic self, or else they might be dealing with it differently. The last thing Nick needs is for him to put a bunch of weird ideas in his kid's head.

Fall is dead and gone before Nick knows it, and winter sweeps in all around them. It's colder than it used to be, and the days are painfully short. It doesn't take long before the morning frost becomes all-day frost. The radio chatter these days implies that most of the county has gone into hibernation mode, bunkering down and preparing to wait out the season. From what Nick knows of living above-ground, the past winters have been literally killer. It's a lesson that everyone seems to have learned by now.

Nick is surprised by the first snowfall, although Kim has been expecting it for days now. It isn't much, barely enough to cover the ground with powder, but it's enough to bring all four of them inside before dark. Nick watches John like a hawk as he sorts out different screws from different projects, keeping him seated on the stairs while Kim and Carmina get into an argument about the use of multiplication tables after the apocalypse. Nick doesn't really see the point either, but then again, he was easily ten years old before he understood his times-tables.

For the first time, Nick doesn't bother to lock John away before dinner, letting him stay on the stairs to eat. First, though, Nick has him drag the large, makeshift cover across the back porch. It's not bad for a piecemeal DIY job Nick threw together in an afternoon, but it's heavy as shit and it completely buries the lower floor in darkness. Their sole oil lamp isn't enough to completely dissipate the gloom, but at least they can see what they're eating. John, sitting at the edge of the ring of light, eats slowly, casting furtive glances at the darkness.

The night turns from chilly to bitterly cold, which is enough to encourage everyone upstairs. Kim and Carmina become professional bed-makers, knowing exactly which blankets should be used to cushion the dirty mattress of the bed and which ones are best for bundling up in. Lately, Carmina's been really into nest-styled sleeping, which has its benefits during the coldest season of the year. Nick can't say he minds getting to cuddle with his family all night — come springtime, the heat will set back in and Carmina will start kicking all the blankets off again. Before long, she's gonna need her own space, and then Nick can kiss this cozy winter set-up goodbye.

Nick doesn't need to goad John into moving. He slips off the stairs before Carmina and Kim pass him, hovering by the support beam and staring at Nick expectantly.

"Well?" Nick asks, gesturing, "Get going."

John hustles up the stairs, shuddering in his borrowed coat. Nick follows behind, pistol holstered and oil lamp raised to give them all some light to work with. Kim is already lighting the bedroom candles by the time Nick reaches the landing, while Carmina has begun meticulously organizing the bed to her standards. Nick can see them both from the doorway as he marches John to the spare room, turning the cold room cozy just with their presence.

John doesn't wait for Nick to order him into his room. He goes willingly, eagerly even, quick to bundle up in his rough blankets. He doesn't even notice Nick watching him from the doorway, pulling off his shoes like he's eager to climb into his homemade bed. The room is practically a freezer, which might be because Nick hasn't bothered to properly board up the windows in here. Wind whistles through inch-wide gaps, sucking out the body-heat Nick is hoping to share with his family.

"You gonna be good in here?" Nick asks, absolutely hating himself for his burst of pity. "Not, uh... too cold, or anything?"

"I guess we'll find out," John replies, shrugging the concern away.

"Guess so," Nick echoes unhappily, shutting the door with every intention of locking John in there like Schroedinger's Jack Torrence. But locking the door doesn't put his concerns entirely to rest. As Nick returns to his room, to Kim and Carmina climbing into a bed full of blankets and tanned hides, he finds himself wondering if John couldn't use an extra blanket or two.

Kim catches him watching and raises an eyebrow. "Everything okay?" she asks, knowing full well that he's probably over-thinking this whole "prisoner" thing again. She's been patient as hell with all his worrying. Nick really doesn't wanna find her limit.

"Yeah," Nick replies, "Of course it is."

Carmina pulls a well-worn copy of The Wizard of Oz out from under the mattress, handing it to Kim for her to flip to the right page. "Is John cold?" she asks, frowning skeptically at her dad. "Is he allowed to have more blankets?"

"What?" Nick asks. She stares back expectantly, until Nick shakes his head and says, "Of course he's allowed to have... I mean, he hasn't asked for any..."

"Don't worry about John," Kim says, gently chastising both of them as she puts an arm around Carmina's shoulders. "Come on, we're almost to the flying monkeys."

It's easy for Carmina to forget about a guy she's never so much as said "hello" to. For Nick, it's a bit more of a struggle. He tries to pay attention while Kim and Carmina take turns reading passages, but they've read this damn book at least a dozen times. Granted, they only have so many books appropriate for a girl Carmina's age — it's either this or one of Nick's old Hardy Boys novels. Thankfully, as the three of them curl up under the covers, Nick gets warm enough to fall asleep, putting John out of his mind at last.

——

Nick wakes up with a few less blankets than he started with, his teeth chattering as he curls under the remaining deerskin. Kim and Carmina are huddled together to one side of the bed, having absorbed the other blankets he'd fallen asleep under. If he wants to get them back, he's probably going to have to wake one of them up.

If he's cold, then John's probably freezing.

Jesus, he's barely awake ten seconds before he's worrying again! This is ridiculous But... his concerns aren't entirely unfounded. John doesn't have the benefit of shared body-heat and excessive bedding — Nick's not sure he'd even count the blankets he does have as bedding to begin with. And — well, he's been doing everything that they've told him to, without bitching or half-assing anything. It's only fair to reward him for good behavior, isn't it?

"Kim," Nick hisses, nudging her until she grunts something like his name in response. "I'm, uh, gonna check in on John."

"Why," Kim groans quietly. One hand slips out of the blankets to cover Carmina's ear, in case she isn't still dead asleep. "It's cold, come back to bed."

"That's why," Nick replies. "He's got to need another blanket."

"We've been waiting for him to die for weeks," Kim mumbles, "Can't you just let mother nature do her job?"

"It doesn't feel right," Nick whispers. Kim sighs in response and he immediately backpedals, sure that he's finally found the end to that seemingly infinite supply of patience. "I know, we've been more than fair, I should just ignore it, it's dumb."

Kim shakes her head. "No, that's not it. I mean... you're right. It's not like I..." Kim pauses, belatedly waking up enough to check that Carmina is still asleep before admitting, "It's not like I want to be the one to bury him, you know?"

Nick does know. He'd been assuming he'd be the one doing that part. "Could always leave him for the wolves," Nick offers half-heartedly.

"As if they'd want any of that ," Kim scoffs, tired enough to be offended on the hypothetical wolves' behalf.

"Look, I'm only gonna give him an extra blanket. It's the bare minimum. Not because we feel sorry for him or anything."

Kim nods, checking Carmina once again for any signs of secretly listening. Thankfully, Carmina sleeps like a fucking log. "Yeah," she agrees. "It's so we don't feel sorry for ourselves."

John is awake when Nick goes to check on him, and he looks fucking miserable. He's trembling, wrapped up in a poor attempt to conserve heat, although he manages to keep his teeth from chattering after Nick opens the door. Nick was right to worry; it's even colder in here than he'd expected. The gaps in the boarded window are wide enough to wash the room in pale moonlight, which just makes the whole room feel even more frosty and alien.

All at once, the blanket he's about to offer doesn't feel like it'll be anywhere near enough. John probably won't freeze to death, but there's a good chance that he might not be healthy enough to fight off the chill. If he gets sick again, that'll be another week or so where they'll be feeding John for free.

"You cold?" Nick asks, hoping that pointing out the obvious will earn him a comeback that'll dim his sympathy. He needs to not feel bad for a man who's tortured and murdered too many people to count. He's a fucking monster, a psychotic maniac. So what if he's cold? So what if he can't sleep? So what if he freezes to death?

John drops his eyes to the blanket in Nick's hand.

"Yes," he rasps.

With a heavy sigh, Nick balls up the blanket and chucks it at John, who grabs it out of the air and immediately adds it to his cocoon. To Nick's absolute horror, John opens his big mouth and says, "Thank you." His gratitude seems genuinely given, as though Nick has finally brought reprieve to some kind of agony, leaving a heavy, uncomfortable weight on Nick's shoulders.

Nick knows he's getting played. He must be. John knows he's a sap, and he's a manipulative liar who was willing to threaten Nick's unborn child to get what he wanted, of course he's doing this on purpose. He's not above pretending to be pathetic for attention, of course he isn't. The worst part is that, even though Nick knows all of that, he still can't help but fall for it.

"You — you're welcome," he says. "Shit, it's freezing in here. Has it been like this all winter?"

"Not all winter," John mutters, like an asshole.

"You should have said something," Nick snaps, "I woulda... done something before now. You could've gotten a couple extra blankets out of me."

John silently pulls the new blanket tighter over himself, and Nick's irritation returns with a weird, unhealthy dollop of sorrow for the stupid asshole. "Fine, be that way," he snaps. He wishes he could slam the door to make a point, but Carmina is still asleep and he'd like to keep it that way.

When he gets back to the bedroom, Nick's first thought is of how much warmer it is than he'd realized. He's been deceptively comfortable this whole winter, not knowing that John's been freezing half to death at night just down the hall. Maybe if John weren't so useful, he could brush off his worries. Maybe if he weren't such a stupid coward, he could be satisfied with the good he's already done for that sack of shit.

"Kim," he calls softly, "You still up?"

"No," Kim mumbles. "What?"

"I, uh... think we need to bring John in here."

" What ?" Kim repeats, craning her neck to stare at him. Carmina grunts against her, thankfully burrowing under the blankets instead of waking up.

"I know, I know, but — it's fuckin' cold in there, Kim. The window's still broke, I never got around to properly boarding it up and —"

"What did he say to convince you this would be a good idea?"

Nick sighs. "He didn't say anything, that's the worst part. I'm doing all the convincing myself." He waits for her to say something, but she doesn't, so he repeats himself helplessly. "It really is cold in there. I.. I don't think I can leave him like that."

Kim looks at him as though he's grown a second head, and she can't decide if it's more or less attractive than the one she married. "He has to be restrained," she says at last. "And you keep him away from Carmina. Even if that means you don't get any sleep at all."

"Yeah," Nick replies. "I can do that."

"I'll have the rifle next to me," she adds. "If he pulls something..."

"Of course," he says.

Nick takes his deerskin, an extra blanket and two pillows, and tosses them into the far corner. He takes the shoulder strap off of the rifle as well, holding it up for Kim to sleepily approve of as an impromptu rope. Nick's not sure what he's going to do if John rejects the terms of this offer, but he's hoping he won't have to look like an ass for suggesting it.

John is still awake when Nick returns. He stares apprehensively as Nick approaches with the length of cord, but he doesn't try to bolt.

"Hands out," Nick orders, gesturing towards his hidden arms. When John hesitates, he sighs and adds, "I'm not gonna hurt you, come on."

John's brow furrows. "Then what are you going to do ?"

"I'm gonna make sure you can't murder me in the middle of the night. Do you wanna sit here and freeze to death, or what?"

That doesn't seem to do much to reassure John, but Nick doesn't need him reassured, he needs him to follow orders. Finally, he holds out his hands, staring skeptically at Nick as his teeth chatter against his will. He doesn't resist as Nick secures his bony wrist.

Once he's satisfied, Nick drags John onto his feet. "Get your stuff," he tells John, "I'm not sharing my blankets with you."

John does what he's told, quickly scooping up the blankets that have fallen to the wayside. Nick gestures for the door, but John only manages to reach the doorway before he stops.

"Hey, get moving," Nick says, scowling as John resists at the doorway. When he doesn't budge, Nick hisses, "Don't get any ideas, now. Kim and I are both armed, and —"

"I know," John replies. His heavy, hooded eyes find Nick's, searching him suspiciously for some hint at his master plan. "Why are you doing this?"

Nick sighs. He's not about to tell John he's taking pity on him, and it's not like John is going to believe Nick's doing this simply because he feels bad. He briefly considers forgetting the whole plan to save himself the trouble of explaining himself. "I'm lazy and I don't wanna have to carry your dead weight downstairs," he snaps. "Either you keep your mouth shut and come with me, or you can sit in here and freeze."

John goes quietly from there. Kim is awake when Nick marches him into the room, and she regards the entire procession with extreme distrust. That's fair. Nick doesn't trust it anymore himself, and he's the one who had the idea in the first place. She doesn't say anything, but she watches as Nick points John to a spot against the far wall.

Nick thinks John will comment on the temperature change, but he doesn't. He also refrains from commenting as Nick settles against the wall next to him with his own set of blankets. Nick nearly tells John not to get comfortable, but that would sort of defeat the purpose, wouldn't it? What he should do is tell John not to get used to it — tomorrow, Nick's gonna fix that window and ensure that this won't happen again.

There's no way that Nick is going to get a good night's sleep tonight. He can't afford to slip off and leave John effectively unwatched around his family. Thankfully, that's not gonna be a problem — after three tries he gives up on trying to find a comfortable position and settles for sitting slumped against the wall like a kid waiting for gym class to end. He's got a good view of his comfortable bed and lovely, sleeping family, and he's just within grappling range in case John makes a break for it. With how exhausted John looked today, he probably won't have to worry too much on that front.

At first, Nick expects John to lie down and get some rest, but as time passes he finds that isn't the case. John remains sitting, holding the blankets close to him with his bound hands. His gaze is fixed on the floor every time Nick looks over. Despite how much he's improved since they took him in, John still reacts sluggishly, dragging himself through chores without complaint but also without energy. The perpetual exhaustion that seems to come with surviving hasn't missed him, even as he lived quietly by himself for eight years.

Eventually, John lifts his eyes to rest on the bed opposite them. Nick doesn't notice it at first, halfway into a doze himself. When he does, his first instinct is to tell John to knock it off, but John's pensive stare stops him. Whatever John's thinking about, Kim and Carmina are only distantly related — he seems miles away as usual, wound up tight in his own thoughts.

He isn't trembling anymore, though, and his teeth aren't chattering either. Nick can count that as a win, at least.

"Was it difficult?" John asks, right as Nick's about to nod off again. He jumps a little, surprised by the question, confused until John elaborates quietly, "Raising her after the world ended."

"It was never gonna be a picnic," Nick sighs, too tired to work himself into an outrage over John's interest in his family. It's not like knowing about their post-apocalyptic baby-rearing is going to give John leverage. He shifts, sighs again and admits, "Yeah, it was. Not as bad as it could've been if we hadn't had the bunker, though."

For the first time, Nick wonders if John ever wanted kids. The way he'd talked about his past back in the day, the way the deputy would talk about him, well, Nick wouldn't be surprised to find the guy had a slew of bastard children, all of them scraping by on child support and harboring awful thoughts towards their psychotic dad. The idea of John being a father , of having control of and being responsible for a child, it's downright ludicrous. There's a lot to be said about passing on your own traumas to your kids, and John already has a habit of making his problems everyone else's. An actual child of his would probably be messed up before it could walk.

"You know, in a weird way, the cult prepared us for the worst. We moved all of our supplies down there so you couldn't come steal them. When the bombs dropped, we didn't have to worry about baby formula or non-perishables."

John lets out a quiet breath. "If only others were as smart as you," he rasps.

"Or, you know, you could have respected other people's property."

"Yeah," John sighs. "I guess so."

Nick skeptically eyeballs John, whose own gaze has dropped back to the floor. Nick has taken every opportunity to remind John that at least part of the state of things is his fault. So far, John hasn't disagreed with him, quietly accepting blame whenever it's laid on him, even when Nick himself figures he's reaching a little. Nick had assumed he was just doing what was best for his survival, but tonight he can't help but admit that John at least seems sincere. Sure, sincerity doesn't mean much coming from a notorious liar, but if he's trying to play Nick, he's doing a good job. Nick would never have expected John capable of acting so sympathetic.

"Get some sleep," Nick sighs, resting his head back against the wall. "It's gonna be a long night if you don't."

John doesn't sleep. Nick can feel the hour dragging by, and he knows the next one is going to be just as godawfully tedious, but John doesn't so much as rest his eyes for a minute. This time of night, Nick will sometimes hear John muttering from his room, which means that this might just be John's normal routine. He probably stays awake until his body shuts down against his will, the same way Nick and Kim used to when they first started sleeping topside. Nick's not sure why , though — there hasn't been so much as a hint of trouble since Nick brought him here. If he's worried either Nick or Kim are going to pull something on him, then he's being ridiculous. If he's staying up all the time waiting for his brother to swoop in and rescue him from being the enemy's slave labor, well, he's going to be waiting a hell of a lot longer than he already has.

Although Nick drifts here and there, he manages to keep enough of his wits about him to notice when John finally nods off. The nap lasts all of fifteen minutes before a hypnic jerk jolts him back into consciousness. His hands reach up, palms braced upwards in front of his face, then drop just as quickly, and he sucks in a huge breath through his gritted teeth. His head jerks from side to side as he stares uncomprehendingly at the room around him, catching sight of Nick and staring at him with glassy-eyed panic.

"What?" Nick snaps quietly, as if John's nightmare will respect his sleep-deprived irritation. "Quit staring."

John's eyes dart back to the dark space around them. He stares at the bed for only a second or two before seeming to think better of it, choosing to close his eyes entirely.

Nick had never understood the way Dep had pitied the Seeds, each one earning Rook's sympathy in some way or form. He'd had plenty of arguments with them over it, especially whenever John was concerned. Nick simply didn't believe the sob stories the Seeds wanted to spin, and the fact that the deputy wanted to hem and haw over shooting them had been, well, a little offensive, honestly. The only one he'd ever really felt bad for was Rachel, and by the time she became Faith, he'd gotten tired of feeling sorry for a bunch of crazy cult ladies. Sympathy never was something the cult looked for, even while they peddled pitiable lies about themselves. Maybe that's why it was so weird when the deputy freely gave it.

"Just..." Nick sighs, scrubbing his beard heavily. "Relax, alright?" he whispers, "Nothing's gonna jump out at you."

"I know," John replies. He doesn't sound sure about it at all. Frustration wells up in his voice as he hisses, "Why can't I sleep anymore?"

The question is definitely rhetorical, but Nick considers how to respond anyway. He knows that his family is lucky — they have a defensible location and enough weapons that they don't have to worry about being attacked in their sleep. It wasn't always like that, though. The house had been torn apart, and wild dogs were all over the place, which had been especially terrible considering they were about the right size to snatch a seven-year-old up and make off with her. It'll be two years this spring since they started taking their home back, and it's all of that effort and their good fortune that's made their lives safer.

Most of the other people they've met haven't been so lucky. Finding intact, structurally-safe shelter is a roll of the dice out here, so a lot of people have had to rebuild from the ground up. They have to defend against wildlife, arrogant looters and desperate scavengers, and a lot of them have to do it on their own. Even Grace sometimes mentions thieves coming for her armory, and she's made herself a decent stronghold. Combine that initial survival instinct with the fact that John's only recently climbed out of the bunker, and it's no wonder that he's having trouble sleeping.

"It'll sort itself out if you'd just relax ."

John jolts as if being abruptly awakened, not expecting a response and definitely not expecting a sympathetic one. But Nick is tired, and damn it, Rook's pity must've rubbed off him. You'd think sympathy would have a shorter half-life than eight years.

"Your internal clock is shot, that's all. It happens when you come out of the ground. You don't have to be an over-dramatic asshole about it."

He means for it to be an insult, but the nature of the conversation and his own tiredness soften the blow. He can't help it. It's a hard adjustment to make, and he remembers having to do it himself. It had been pretty awful when he'd managed to get back on a nocturnal sleeping schedule and Kim hadn't... mostly because Carmina thought that meant she could stay up all night and all day.

"You got about four hours left until sunrise," Nick says, whispering even though he's definitely woken up Kim by now. "You're gonna need those hours of sleep when we head out to the hangar tomorrow." He gestures loosely with a hand. "Just — lie down and close your eyes. It's so easy a kid can do it."

For a moment, John looks irritated at being instructed on how to sleep, but he doesn't argue the point. Slowly, he sinks down, lying with his back pressed against the wall. There had been a few feet separating them, but now Nick can't even put his hand down next to him without feeling the curls of John's hair. Ugh, they've been putting it off, but somebody is going to have to do something about the matted mess John's got. This Tarzan-slash-doomsday-prepper look is disgusting, and it can't possibly be hygienic.

John doesn't speak for the rest of the night. Nick doesn't know for sure if he's really sleeping — other than his hands and his matted hair, John is pretty thoroughly bundled against the cold — but at least he keeps quiet and pretends to get some rest. The last thing Nick needs is for John to be so weak tomorrow that he needs more coddling. Nick's sympathy is in short supply and bound to run out soon, so John better be sleeping through the exhaustion crazies.

For his part, Nick mostly just dozes, sliding in and out of focus but never quite managing to fall asleep. He's afforded a rare view of his family from the outside, although mostly all he can see is the back of Carmina's head. She's wound up tight in the first deerskin she ever had a hand in tanning, which has become her go-to blanket during this winter. He can still remember Carmina complaining about the smell and almost throwing up when she first started scraping. Nowadays, she has no trouble getting her hands dirty.

It's not the kind of life that he had imagined for her, but Nick's glad Carmina seems to be adapting. Hell, she's more accustomed to this life than Nick is — he grew up out here, sure, but the tamed wilderness of an unincorporated county is a hell of a lot different than the wilds they now live in. It's been a hell of a learning curve, and Nick's not sure he's gotten the hang of it yet. It's funny — he used to imagine his kid scoffing at him for not understanding some new technology or internet fad, teasing him for not getting what the kids were all about. He has no idea what kind of stuff Carmina's gonna school him on in the future these days — all he can hope is that it won't have anything to do with blood or bullets.

The sun starts to lighten the deep murk of the room. Kim rolls away from the windows, throwing an arm over Carmina's shoulders. She might be sleeping now, but Nick bets it's been hard to come by. No matter how much she might have agreed with his reasoning, there's no way Kim's been sleeping for long with John in the room.

Nick waits another thirty minutes or so before he gives in and shakes John's shoulder. He does it gently enough at first that John doesn't react, which at least assures Nick that the bastard managed to fall asleep after all. Should Nick feel good about that? He's not sure. It's sort of irritating him at this point in his sleep-deprived state, but it is what he wanted. At least he knows John will be able to handle working later.

"Hey," he hisses, shaking John harder this time and earning a muffled grunt in response. "Time to put you back."

That manages to get a reaction, although it's a little much. John jerks away from Nick's hand, hitting the wall with a muffled thump. "No," he gasps. Nick can't quite tell if he's still asleep or not from here.

" Hey ," Nick repeats under his breath, grabbing hold of John's shoulder. "Quit squirming."

"You can't," John pleads, trying in vain to twist out of Nick's grip. He's not trying very hard, probably because he's sleep-addled and confused, but Nick shouldn't be fooled by that. He should know better than to let John get the jump on him.

Despite himself, he lets go. John doesn't bolt, doesn't even move in response, trapped staring at Nick until Nick quietly explains, "I'm talking about your room. Just down the hall."

John doesn't seem to believe him at first, his bound hands grasping at each other as he tries to catch his breath. But eventually, he nods once, very stiffly.

Nick waits until he's pulled John outside of the room to comment, standing in the chilly hall next to John's door. "Look, you don't have to worry about —"

John cuts him off. "Don't do that," he snaps, trying to hide the tremble of anxiety in his voice. "I'll do whatever you tell me to do, just — don't."

Nick should push the issue. At the very least to remind John that he's not in the position to make demands. But, damn it, if John doesn't want to talk about it, why the hell should Nick? He barely likes talking about his own problems, and he's invested in how that baggage is handled. John's a whole goddamn shipping container of twisted thoughts and terrible coping mechanisms, and that's a load that Nick doesn't want to carry.

Honestly, he's relieved. As long as John's nightmares motivate him to continue not being a monstrous asshole, Nick's fine with ignoring them altogether. Bring on the night terrors, as long as they keep John docile, right?

"Fine, whatever." He half-heartedly pushes John through the doorway, only realizing afterward that some snowfall managed to drift in during the night. There's a dusting of light powder on the floor around the window, which will melt into an unhelpful slush once the sun comes up. If the room was too cold to sleep in before, it's got to be worse now.

John ignores Nick as he waffles by the door, retreating back to the tarp he'd left behind. Sure, it's still freezing in here, but the sun is coming up. That should keep the worst of it away.

Nick stands awkwardly in the doorway as John crawls back into his bed, a few feet from a patch of soft snowfall. He doesn't seem willing to look back at Nick, rolling to face the wall as he lies down. Which — is fine. Should be fine. Nick shouldn't care one bit whether or not John wants to talk.

"Feel better?" Kim asks, once he's back in their room and crawling gratefully into the still-warm bed. He'd abandoned one more blanket to John's bundle, then locked him up as if everything were fine — because it is. Right? The risk had paid off, sort of, and now everything is back to the way it should be. So, of course he feels better.

Nick sighs with sleepy gratitude as he folds his cold arm over Carmina, squeezing Kim's shoulder as he questions his gut response. "Sure," he whispers, although it's not exactly the truth. He thinks about it some more, then elaborates. "I'll feel better once I fix that window."

"You're being too nice to him," she tells him, although she says it too fondly to be an admonishment. Still, she's going to run out of patience for his dumb ideas, his gut reactions and his lousy instincts. There's nobody on earth with that high a tolerance for dumbassery, no matter how well-intentioned it might be.

"I know, I know." Carmina presses her face into his chest, hopefully still asleep, and Kim's hand lifts to cover his hand on her shoulder. "Your dad was right," he jokes, closing his eyes, "You didn't marry a smart man."

"I didn't want to marry a smart man," Kim chuckles, "I wanted to marry a good man."

She squeezes his hand. Nick's sure there's more to be said, but this isn't a conversation to have at daybreak after a sleepless night. Maybe later, they can figure out how to keep Nick from making stupid, potentially dangerous decisions like he did tonight. For now, there's a chance for a few hours of sleep in a warm bed with his family, and Nick isn't going to pass that up for anything.

[jamiebluewind]

Bluewind's Massive List Of Fic Recs

Here are some of my favorite fics. Please be mindful of the tags on the fics as I was unable to note them all myself. Let me know if any are abandoned, if a link doesn't work, or if you just want to share a fic I might want to add to my list ^_^

Also, I didn't have time today to add all the Tumblr ones, so click here to see all the fanfiction under my fic rec tag.

Also also, if you get a minute leave a little comment on the fics you enjoy (especially for the AO3 writers who tend to rarely get noticed if at all).

The Hidden Rose by jamiebluewind (wc 10196): Warning! Please read the tags! Roman will be okay. He can handle the self loathing building up inside of him. He can ignore the weight pressing down on his shoulders as he plasters on a convincing fake smile. He can hide his pain from the others. He'll be okay... until he's not.

A Different Side Of Hogwarts by notalwaysthevillian: Four boys travel to a magical school to learn to be wizards. A brave muggleborn, a nervous pureblood who doesn't quite fit in, an intelligent loner with his nose always in a book, and the friendly ball of fluff that keeps them all together. Can they survive their classes and everything that seems to try and pull them apart?

In The Witch's Nest by a_forgotten_note: Virgil is considered bad luck. Nobody wants to adopt him and everybody who does returns him due to the fires that always happen around him. Then one day, two loving men come into his life and show him what he never knew existed. They do their best to teach their new son how to use his magic. One could expect no less from the two Ilvermorny professors.

To Build a Home by AValorousChoice: Nobody ever wanted Virgil. Nobody had ever shown the slightest bit of interest in adopting him. He never believed he was good enough for a loving family. Then one day, Patton and Logan walked into the orphanage and changed everything. (I love this one so much. Angst and fluff and well written)

This Love Hate Relationship by insanelycoolish: Roman has followed The Witching Hour since he was in high school. Last time they were in town, Roman not only got to meet the lead singer of the band, he kissed him as well. The band (Virgil included) is in town once more. Roman drags along his friend Logan for moral support as he tries to find the answer that's been plaguing his mind for a year: Will Virgil remember him and their kiss?

Keep Him Safe by Whatwashernameagain: Warning! Adult content, so please read tags! Officers Logan and Roman are unlikely friends. Roman is a flamboyant flirty rainbow and Logan is... decidedly not that. When their regular stop closes, they decide to try out a new place. The pastry shop is owned by a sweet bubbly man that quickly pulls in all who meet him with his genuine kindness. However, pain can be hidden beneath a smile. Meanwhile, a gang is quickly growing in power. (a mixture of fluff, angst, and dark undertones)

A Lesson in Practicality by ResidentAnchor: Four seemingly random strangers all answer an ad to move into a downtown apartment. After a few month together, they all realize they've been hiding a secret from one another... they each have a unique special ability. Can they keep living their day to day lives in a house full of superpowered humans? Will their powers bring them together or cause a rift between them? And how long until somebody starts running around in tights?

Patmalian by patentpending: Patton loves Logan more than anything. He just doesn’t understand why his friends are lying or why they’re saying there’s something wrong. He’s not obsessed or deluded. He’s just in love. Desperately, terribly, helplessly in love. (will stomp on your heart and you will say thank you)

Out Side Observations: The sides become real. Thomas is left scrambling as he tries to figure out how to handle the situation. The sides are not much better off. (linked to current newest chapter so yall would have the links to all the previous ones)

Illuminated by altruistic-skittles: Most humans are born with a soulmark that glows in the presence of their soulmate. Some are platonic. Some are romantic. Those without one or with a faux one are often treated badly by society. This is the story of a group of men trying to find where they belong.

A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing by I_Live_In_A_Trash_Can: Warning! Dark themes so please check the tags! Three superheroes face off against vilian Nightmare. Patton tries to become friends with a lonely guy named Virgil.

Partial Prints by satan_copilots_my_tardis: Warning! Basically all the warnings so check the tags! Patton is a serial killer who feeds victims to Virgil who is a monster who eats people, Deceit is a demon, Roman is a muse, and Logan is the poor human caught in the middle. (for god sakes read the tags)

An Unconventional FamILY by EmPhoenixCat: Warning! Dark themes so check the tags! Human Logan adopts a vampire (Remy) and a werewolf (Roman). Virgil is a good kid despite being possessed by a morally gray demon.

Another Line That Comes With Age by SmolTownFangirl: Warning! Graphic depiction of violence so please read the tags! Roman takes care of his 3 sisters despite his dad being king of the assholes. Patton and Logan are teachers. Virgil is their son.

We'll Be Together Never (Forever) by Lady_Akuma_Wolf: Warning! Extreme abuse/neglect so please read the tags! Patton befriends a mostly elective mute outcast said to be Soulless. However, Patton believes Virgil's soulmate is just shy (unlike his own dramatic soulmate Roman). Virgil isn't use to kindness especially since his own parents are abusive assholes.

Could You Imagine by FebruaryFun: Imaginations take physical form. Logan is not taking very good care of him imirage Virgil and needs a helping hand.

Blank by Shay_Nioum: Logic is gone. There's only Apathy. The other sides are heartbroken.

A Whole New World by mandeebobandee: Virgil and the others were just watching a movie. Now he's lost in the real world.

Fanged Friend by Demon_Wr1ter: Warning! Graphic violence so please read the tags! Virgil is a vampire with three great roommates. Now all hell is breaking loose and he's scared of killing one of his friends.Fangs by TessaTheDreamer: Warning! Assault so please read the tags! Logan was turned into a vampire. At least he's already a nightowl.

The Seeds We Sow by ResidentAnchor (wc 67435): Warning! Graphic depiction of violence so please read the tags! In one kingdom, magic is embraced. In another, it's outlawed and those with any magic are executed. Prince Logan has to travel to the other kingdom for a meeting.

Even Nobody Has A Tale To Tell by AlliDaMeme: Warning! Abuse so please read the tags! Roman isn't happy with who he's being paired with for a group theatre project. Virgil the dark loner. Patton the boy that always smiled. Logan the nerd who skipped two grades. Dex the dangerous delinquent. What none of them realize is that everybody has a story to tell and not all of them are happy.

Behind the Yellow Door by FangirlOfPower: A story of Deceit's adventures in the Light Sides' version of the Mindscape. He's usually very confused, especially by idioms that are taken literally.

Family Matters by IRegretNothingAndEverything: Warning! Abuse so please check the tags! Virgil runs away from an abusive home only to be scooped up by a strange collection of two adults and the runaways who became their children. Now if he could only save his little brother.

Ceremony of Innocence by Acantha_Echo: Warning! Abuse, violence, and isolation, so please check the tags! Sir Roman is captured by the evil warlock terrorizing the lands. Locked away in a cell with his only company being a kind man in glasses and the handsome servant who brings them food at night, Roman struggles to find a way to protect the kingdom and save the others.

The Witch's Secret by Arcadian_Skye: Roman rushed back to meet with the other sides. He was going to regret fighting the dragon witch with so little time to spare before brainstorming with the others. Pain. Glass breaking. Darkness. Will the injured prince find someone worth fighting for?

Blanketverse by SoDoRoses (FairyChess): Wet Blanket and Life Of The Party: Roman wants to host a party in his realm. Virgil feels like a wet blanket (when he's not worried about having a panic attack). Personal Space: Patton won't go near Logan and Logan worries why.

adventures in gender by riverblujay: Virgil discovers they're nonbinary. They're later joined by Roman resulting in the two bonding.

It's Still a Good Life by IsaacTheGreat69: Logan is in pain after a breakup. Virgil is supportive. (Analogical)

Silk Gloves by Dorktapus42: (more of a jacksepticeye/markiplier egos fic with mentions of Sanders Sides). A hectic day in the life of our favorite silent grayscale boy, Jameson Jackson aka JJ.

Powerless by patentpending (wc 187953): Warning! Graphic depiction of violence and mental abuse so read the tags! Almost everyone in the world has a superpower. The unabled 0.04% are treated as lesser and subjected to bigotry. Virgil has tried to fight back against the system that oppresses people like him, Patton, and Logan. When Patton’s bakery is targeted in a hate crime, he finally snaps. With the help of a mysterious sponsor, Virgil becomes a villain, ready to remake a broken society. The only thing standing in his way is the world’s most powerful superhero: The Prince.

Overworked and Underpaid by IsaacTheGreat69 (wc 7349): Thomas has been really busy and hasn't been seeing his friends. Virgil gets hit hard by the stress.

A Stitch a Day Keeps The Bad Thoughts Away by ShadeCrawler (wc 8407): Virgil has found serenity in knitting. Whenever he knits, he tries to make the other Sides a gift. It never ends well.

Love and Other Fairytales by SoDoRoses (FairyChess): Wickhills is a town that never stays in the same place forever. The people there do there best to keep themselves safe when surrounded by fae and other magical creatures. Not all beings are kind. Not all gifts are wanted. Not all paths are safe.

lavender for luck by lovelylogans (wc 66391): (LAMP) Virgil's uncle castes spells, reads fortunes, and listens to houses talk just like Virgil's father when he was alive. You see, the Fae family is born with both magic... and a curse. Those who fall in love with a Fae and have that love returned all die, so Virgil refuses to ever take that risk.

How not to be an idiot about your feelings by Tiili97 (wc 5475): After staying up for 3 days studying, Virgil convinces Logan to get some sleep. Logan wakes up the next day not remembering that he had randomly kissed his roommate on his way to bed.

The Low Light by a_forgotten_note: Warning! Graphic violence and sexual conduct so please read the tags! Logan is a cold-hearted vampire who runs a funeral home with the help of Patton who takes care of the daytime business. Patton's boyfriend Roman is... there. While out walking the graveyard, he happens upon a boy being stalked by a ghoul. Virgil survives and gets entangled in the world of nether creatures and the sudden influx of vicious ghouls in the small town.

Second Chances by callboxkat: (Sequel/series page) Roman is homeless and just trying to survive. With no room left at the shelter, he was tossed out and left to fend for himself on the streets. A former high school rival offers to help.

The Last Days by EdgyCatSkull (wc 10383): Warning! Major Character Death so please read the tags! Patton, Logan, and Roman have lived in their apartment together for years, along with a fourth reclusive man. While the three grew closer, the other never even told them his name. But one day, the man they had started referring to as simply Anxiety came out of his room and began to bond with the other three men. Maybe there is a reason, but one Virgil would rather leave unspoken. With Roman's play coming up and everybody seeming very happy, it would almost seem like things would finally work out for them... almost.

Of Course by A_Travis: Anxiety existed in a gray area of not good or bad. Just gray. When he lends a hand to the others, he only has one response.

Lovesick by Jackfruit: Roman can smell lovesickness and Logan REAKS. Logicality

Ever After by creativenostalgiastuff: Virgil is death and must guide souls to the afterlife. (very sad)

What? by just-an-anxious-mess: The sides are acting strange

Chemically Imbalanced by NyxWordsmith: Warning! Read the tags! Roman’s first mistake was taking Mr. Sanders History class, expecting an easy ride. His second mistake? Hitting on his son. (very lose adaptation of the sides and so much angst)

Stains of a Soul by sanders-sides-fics: Warning! Abuse so read the tags! Virgil is torn. He loves writing to his soulmates and the marks on his arms from their replies. His parents don't. They called having three soulmates unnatural. He's punished. Insulted. His pens are broken. He just wants to make his parents proud.

Scribbles by SketchyNebula: Virgil watched as the ink appeared on his arm followed by a second and a third. His soulmates. He would never muddy their relationship with his presents, but as he watched the happy colors take up every last inch of blank space on his arms, he couldn’t help but be happy that fate chose him to be lucky enough to witness it. The unfolding of this relationship was going to be something akin to a fairy tale and if that was the only light in his dark existence that fate would grant Virgil, then he would take it without regret.

Silence and Duality by xaandiir: Warning! Read tags! Children make mistakes and the Sides were no exception. When Thomas was young, they locked up the one who was hurting him. They thought they were only protecting Thomas. Now that Fear is out, they have to face he consequences of their decision.

On Impossibility by theotherella: Student body president Logan is in a precarious balance of power. In order to save the football team, he was forced to cut the unsusessful theater program. Roman hates him for it. Virgil isn't too happy either. Logan is fine.

A Virgil Affliction by creativenostalgiastuff: Warning! Read tags! Thomas has high anxiety over his friends moving. Virgil becomes overwhelmed with all of the changes in Thomas’ life. He struggle to cope and starts taking it out on everyone and everything. What will help them get through this tough time?

Innerworks by Prplzorua: Warning! Author may not be able to finish! Because of an "Incident" Anxiety falls ill, Thomas won't speak, Logic is mad, Morality is just trying to be a good dad (they tell the best jokes) and Prince is trying to figure out what in the world is going on.

Inks and Tallies by Skittlesun: Roman has an odd tattoo client asking for tally marks

Sleeping on Secrets by novusavis: Virgil is worried his curls will make the other sides not take him seriously, so he tries to hide them

Splat! by Listless_Songbird: Patton hears a curious noise coming from Roman’s room and peeks in to investigate

Mimicry by On_Sonnshine: Warning! Dark themes and violence so read tags! Virgil looks broken as he confesses something terrible that happened. Roman sees red.

Patton Will Fight You by RLCinderella: Virgil talks bad about himself. Patton did warn him. (Pure fluff)

Wynken, Blynken and Dad by SilversEdge: Virgil is having trouble falling asleep, so Patton decides to help (Pure fluff)

Neuro Logical by musicmuse0609: After being insulted by Roman, Logan decides to do some research to figure out why he's so different. Discovering the reason only seems to cause him more stress than before.

Love hurts by TheGhostOfBenjamin: Warning! No comfort so read tags! A merman falls in love with a human. One needs air, the other doesn't. How far will he go to get to his loved one?

Everyone can leave by Vampirtulpe: Warning! No comfort so check the tags! The sides and Thomas have been stuck on an imaginary island for months. Roman is convinced that he will find the exit, but what if everybody doesn't want to leave?

Must Be Dreaming by rosesandstuff: Remy loves kissing his boyfriend, Roman. However, when it’s obvious there’s something much weighing on Roman’s mind, Remy stops so they can talk.

Unspoken by IronWoman359: Warning! Read tags! Virgil stomps off in a downpour after he and Logan have a fight. When tragedy strikes, will Logan get the chance to make amends.

Noose - Oneshot by imthederpyfox: Virgil walks into the woods with a rope and a piece of paper. A noise in the distance startles him.

Love at firtht thight by shiverfawkes: (analogical) Virgil is use to not being taken seriously. He has a strong lisp which causes "s" to sound like "th". Then he meets a boy at his new school who changes that.

Silence Is Your Loudest Scream (I Don't Know Why You're Hiding) by maxiswriting: Roman is an actor. He can hide the truth behind a wall of convincing lies. The dark thoughts aren't there. He's fine and happy for the others. Everything's fine. (LAMP)

Lessons by DemonicPresence (wc 2732): Roman loves guitar. Logan doesn't understand why.

High Five by periwren: Virgil is a shy lonely school kid that always gets picked on. His classmates have made it a new game to jump scare him and eventually it all ends in tears.

Cat's out of the Bag by YouDontKnowMeIDontKnowYou (wc 2262): After wandering into the imagination to find Roman, Virgil turns into a cat. He's not happy about it. Hilarity ensues.

Nail Polish and Princes by novusavis (wc 3207): Virgil has trouble with his hands shaking. It makes it impossible to cleanly paint his nail, so he decides to ask Roman for help.

The Kind of Pain That Doesn't Hurt by warcatscat: Warning! Read tags! Roman has bad habits. He knows that. He knows they're not good for coping. But when everything else is so deeply overwhelming, what else can he really return to besides old habits. They die hard, right?

The Betting Pool by Skittlesun: Drama teacher Roman Hart and music teacher Virgil Knight have this little game they like to play. The objective? Make the other blush first. Place your bets!

Did You Lock The Door? by periwren: Warning! Sexual situations so read tags!Patton and Deceit just want to fool around without the other finding out, but the other sides keep spoiling their fun. Hilarity ensues.

The Smell Of Leather Jackets And Alcohol by Sp00nhater: Warning! Extreme child abuse so please read the tags! Virgil and Roman are very different. Roman is popular and loud. Virgil is a quiet loner that's feared. A class protect forces them to work together and brings some dark truths to the surface.

It's Only Logical by TSTrashCaptain: Warning! Sexual conduct and past abuse so read the tags! When Logan (a florist with a PhD in botany), decides to hire someone to work the counter in his flower shop, he assumed it would be no big deal. His life would continue to be calm and as predictable as Roman unsuccessfully flirting with the emo owner of his favorite coffee shop. He could never have expected what a disruption one single Dad could make to his neatly ordered life.

[fetus-cakes]

Xenomorph biology

A conversation I had with @palavengarden​ about how the xenomoprhs from the Alien franchise reproduce, any additions are welcome

fair warning, xenomorphs reproduce by injecting their parasitic larva into live human beings and the whole franchise is very unsubtle about this being rape and forced pregnancy, so the discussion is about this topic

charlie: okay but so here is the thing i still dont understand tho even just doing the first 2 movies the queen lays an egg the egg lays penis vagina deepthroat rape crab the  penis vagina deepthroat rape crab lays a smaller egg the smaller egg hatches into a tiny screaming snake which hatches AGAIN and then runs away then suddenly there is a 9 foot tall 15 foot long black monster that wants to eat humans then it takes a nap then if its on a planet instead of in space it wakes from its nap and eats everyone on the planet? builds a house in the warmest place available somehow a queen happens in all this fetus: ok think of it as an insect life cycle egg > larva > nymph > full grown adult likewise, xenomorphs only have one egg everything else is metamorphosis of the same body face rape crab BECOMES chest embryo charlie: no, cuz the rape crab dies after throat fucking you fetus: chest embryo leaves host body and BECOMES full grown adult no it doesn't die it's a shell it MOLTS like cicada shells or tarantula shells heck or a snake skin charlie: okay so egg hatch into a crab crab lives for literally 20 seconds then pukes its self down your throat? fetus: face rape crab is a discarded shell think of the embryo as being inside the crab the crab must stay attached to the face for a few hours to complete the transfer of the embryo charlie: i will resentfull accept this but still 2 more questions 1. why is it that the screamign snake inside the chest doesnt seem to eat anything? it just wants to curl up and take a nap while it grows bigger. the person usually keeps walkign around and just gets a little winded when it sits on their lung fetus: GOOD QUESTION charlie: 2. where does the queen happen in all this fetus: I HAVE ANSWER the embryo needs to stay inside because it's EATING this is where alien will get it's food and if it's a drone, all it will ever eat charlie: you would THINK so but no one seems to know they are chest bursted though the only time ive seen that seemed like maybe their insides were being eaten was in the avp book fetus: because they have been injected with what is basically painkillers charlie: everyone else justs seems fine fetus: this is why the transfer from crab to chest is delicate because the embryo is vulnerable it's to the embryos best interest to NOT be removed before it's ready charlie: the face crab is injecting painkillers or the screaming snake? fetus: face crab injects painkillers into HOST there is a period of time between transfer of embryo and embryo being ready to hatch that the host might be walking around it's for the embryos best interest to not be detected charlie: okay so... the face crab throat fucks you, and its just spitting crazy amoutns of pain killer down your gullet and once your insides are all the way numb and youre a little loopy it pukes the screaming snake into you and since your insides are fucked up with painkiller you dont feel it chomping down and can just continue about youre time, no issue walking and no numb tongue or throat until it breaks yoru sternum, which you CAN feel fetus: you got it charlie: dumb but fine fetus: painkillers are probably not strong enough to prevent someone from noticing their ribcage breaking charlie: i wish that it made your tongue and throat numb fetus: ok so; face rape crab grabs victim, sedates them, transfers embryo and pumps the victim's bloodstream full of anesthesia charlie: okay i accept that grumpily, but i accept it fetus: when transfer is finished the crab falls off and the victim might think they survived charlie: makes sense More or Less fetus: lol why so grumpy charlie: i still think the face crab looks like a whole different animal, not a cicada shell fetus: metamorphosis man ok so the QUEEN charlie: QUEENS AND DRONES PLEASE fetus:  the queen is modeled after ants, bees and termites, so it's a similar process: certain larva are selected by the drones and given the equivalent of Royal Jelly so they'll grow up being able to reproduce like all larva have the POTENTIAL to become queens but only the ones introduced to royal jelly will all others become drones or warriors charlie: okay BUT i know a LOT about bees basically all bees a female with a small handful of stupid males fetus: xenomorphs are technically all females since they all have the potential to become Queens but I guess you could say drones and warriors are sexless and only queens are true females charlie: okay so in alien 2 the one single xenomorph did the whole facehugger THING and scurried away, as normal living in the vents or whatever why did it become a queen and who fucked it to get it to lay eggs? you need at least 2 and you need something to make a queen fetus: WAIT WHEN DID THAT HAPPEN I don't remember that charlie: so just one egg hatched and attached to the dad on the planet, right? and he got evacc'd to the town (or whatever that was) we know from experience that it probably chest bursted within a few hours and scurried into the vents so we should have had 1 drone just eating people unable to lay additional eggs fetus: drone probably went back to mother ship for more eggs it was within walking (driving) distance charlie: and like... carried them? and put them close to humans? fetus: yeah, why not? drones are ONLY concerned with taking care of eggs and queen charlie: then when that one hatched you have 2 drones hell, I'll bet this drone captured humans but them somewhere they couldn't escape and then put the eggs around them ensuring more births did they just by hand carry a shit ton of eggs to the colony until one of them coincidentally was a queen, or did they have to DO something? fetus: royal jelly charlie: okay where tho fetus: whatever the xenomorph equivalent is charlie: okay so in bees fetus: I dunno how they make xenomorph jelly, maybe it's a hormonal excretion drone #1 went and made more drones, until they had enough to make the royal jelly and made a queen charlie: okay fine i checked with the bee expert i remembered royal jelly wrong fetus: what did you think royal jelly did? charlie: no i know what it DOES but i was remembering ti as 'the queen spits out royal jelly, gives it to every single baby, but if she gives a LOT of it to one then it becomes a queen' but no, its something young bees make charlie: all of them so when a young bee hatches and wanders over to the nursery to take care of its sisters its spits a little royal jelly on all of them so yeah okay fine fetus: oh I was remembering royal jelly wrong too then I thought it was scarce charlie: 1 human gets face hugged, the xenomorph goes back to the eggs which it can probably smell on the wind, carries one close to humans, then when the baby hatches and hides in the vents he vomits a bunch of royal jelly in its mouth and it just doesnt stop growing until its a full queen fetus: there you go :D charlie: only possible if its a female xenomorph, though, because every bee you will ever see is always a female the males literally only exist to fuck yougn queens (and die doign it) the queen still couldnt lay eggs though theyd have to just hope that one of the eggs in that ship was male already fetus: oh? why not? charlie: male bees dont fuck the queen in their own hive, thats their mom they are supposed to go out and find virgin queens fetus: well what's to stop xenomorph from being like clownfish and changing their sex based on environmental factors? charlie: the virgin queen fucks one single time then uses that one single time to lay eggs forever fetus: heck, normally I peg aliens as being like whippet lizards: they have developed an entire reproductive cycle without males charlie: because clownfish dont have HIVES fetus: they have harems if I remember correctly though you're right, they DO something to avoid incest charlie: look i spent like 3 months learnign everything about bees and i came out afraid of bees, okay i wanna know what xenomorphs do fetus: HEY I'M LOVING THIS CONVERSATION MAN charlie: technically anyone from that ship would be part of the same 'hive' so they probably wouldnt fuck them though they may well not CARE fetus: THIS IS LITERALLY MY FAVOURITE TOPIC charlie: ;) lets see... okay so to do yours and it woudl make sense it would just be very alien (ha) egg is born, egg is female egg hatches, is female egg develops inside host, is female hatchest again as female a secondary adutl female spits on it, its a queen lays additional egg no sperm anywhere here but MAYBE maybe if the QUEEN spits on a baby it can become male? because the queen oughtta not be able to have any babies until shes fucked shes a virgin queen so maybe the first helper xenomorph catches a human, brings it to the nest holds the human in place THE QUEEN SPITS IN THE HUMAN then when the egg gets lain in the human it eats both human meat and queen spit the queen spit neutrtalizes the painkillers (hence why people in those weird tar traps always seem in pain, where people walkign aorudn with chest bursters seem fine) but the queen spit makes it be born male it fucks her (incest but whatever, aliens) NOW she can lay a million babies ofrever and they capture more humans to make more males thats why its usually a room with only like a handful of humans stuck in it, because you onyl need a couple males after that i think my only leftover complaint is that the babies grow too fast and also nothign seems to eat, a lot of them seem to just murder for fun rather than food fetus: YOU CRACKED THE CODE well, it's established in the first movie that at the very least, alien embryos inside humans drink their blood like a fetus would it's quote possible they eat their organs too so a gestating embryo will take a LOT of resources from its human host and this is actually true to life too: there are several insect, especially fly, species where the maggots will spend their entire time eating but the adults lack an actual digestive tract so alien embryos spend all the time inside the host eating charlie: i probably need to see 1 again, its been a couple years i think fetus: in Alien one, after John Hurt wakes up, he shows signs of pregnancy: he's hungry and nauseous and Ash says he looks anemic charlie: im just thinking about the guy thta chest bursted in 1, how he was walkign around and laughing and felt fine before he suddenly exploded which means to me that it didnt eat the heart or lungs, since he didnt spit up blood and probably slithered into his intenstines before chewing through and maybe going for his nutrient rich liver first its pretty BIG is the thing every bite could easily be fatal so it cant be biting anythign remotely important or he would just instantly die, or start coughing up blood, or lose the ability to walk oh, so i have to see 1 again fetus: I just made a theory; normally embryos would eat the entire host like wasp larva do but embryos are capable of sensing danger so when the embryo burst from John Hurts chest, it realized that it was surrounded by hostiles so it ran away instead of finishing eating him charlie: oh that could be! it would make sense like in Cubed she had hers in her chest for like... nearly a week fetus: because most chestbursters are born surrounded by drones and their hosts are immobilized but aliens are versatile creatures, so they're able to thrive even in less than ideal conditions heck, Alien 1 is probably the WORST case scenario for a drone: born away from the other eggs and the queen ooooh you're right queens have longer gestation period charlie: my strongest memory from 1 is that she put al lthat effort into blowing up the ship and it was getting hot and screaming and flashign lights and shes desperately running to the escape shuttle with her cat and once the place blows she realizes the xenomorph had curled up to take a nap in the only dark queiet place on the whole ship it didnt even seem that aggressive she put so much effort into killing it and its jsut like.. sleepy and slow moving like 'why you bulyl me' 'i am the baby' fetus: I  KNOW!!!! I  FUCKING LOVE THE FIRST MOVIE SO MUCH ALL THE PREGNANCY AND BABY IMAGERY USED FOR HORROR Alien 1 does a better job with pregnancy horror than a lot of horror movies featuring actual human babies or demon babies and you're so right little drone in Ripley's ship just wanted to nap btw do you mind if I put our alien biology lesson into one post? charlie: go for it! have all the fun 'please, im trying to psyche myslef up to becomeing a queen or something, im lonely, im the baby, let me nap' fetus: I'm still laughing that you said Ellen is bullying the alien bully the murderous parasite charlie: SHE IS HE WAS TAKIGN A NAP NOT BOTHERIGN NO ONE he wasnt even hungry at that moment! fetus: he was lonely the loneliest xenomorph charlie: partner says that he thinks the baby is a normal parasite and curls itself up in the stomach, eating your food, until its too large to fit, then bursts out the chest maybe the 'dick' that comes out of the facehugger is the 'head' of the xenomorph and it just drops the rest of the body once its ready to and the reason you cant remove a facehugger is the baby latches on with teeth and fucks you up if you try to pull it off fetus: there you go I was thinking it was more of a tongue than a dick but yeah charlie: okay so random though imagine if when the baby hatched otu of that one dudes chest? what if instead of screamign at it they had said 'so cute!' 'welcome little baby!' ''i love you!' let it crawl up their arm put it in a soft warm little baby bubble in the medical ward gave it snacks and head pets it loves them then you have a 200 pound gigantic xenomorph monster within a few horus somehow who loves you and aggressively protects them FROM SPACE PIRATES fetus: ok but that thing just killed warrant officer Ash wait no, Dallas? what was John Hurt's character name KANE ok so warrant officer Kane is dead and the crew just adopts his murder baby? we go from RIP Kane to Kane? don't know her charlie: well the baby didnt MEAN to hatch from his chest its a baby fetus: the chest was just in the way

[sorenmarie87]

Vampires and Pecan Pie

Picks up right after The Apple Pie Life.

Summary:  You decide to take Dean up on his offer to move into the bunker and have him teach you how to hunt.  You spend time watching one of your favorite movies with Dean.  

Square Filled: Vampire (SPN Genre Bingo)

Pairing(s): Winchesters x Reader (Platonic)

Word Count: 1,796

Warning: Reader punches Dean twice.  Training.   

A/N: Written for @spngenrebingo.  I want to thank @fictionalabyss for looking this one over <3  Also all grammar mistakes are my own.  Also the movie the reader and Dean watch is Vampire Hunter D.  

I do not own any pictures I use in my aesthetics.  I found them all on Pinterest.

Forever Tags - @lovetusk @coffee-obsessed-writer@mirajanefairytailmage@kazosa@soythedemonqueen@docharleythegeekqueen@holyfuckloueh@ellen-reincarnated1967@ravenangel33@clockworkmorningglory@lefthologramdeer @disneymarina

SPN Tags - @underestimatemethatwillbefun @nyxveracity

It had been a month since the boys had rescued you.  You were in the wrong place at the wrong time and for your safety, the boys had taken you back to the bunker.  You were planning to leave the next day when Dean made you a deal.  He offered to teach you about everything supernatural and how to defend yourself from it if you stayed.  You left and as you made your way home, you actually thought about Dean's offer.�� 

The next day you started packing up what belongings you had (it wasn't that much to begin with).  There were two boxes of books that you couldn't leave behind, your clothes, laptop, television,  your game systems and the few games you had.  You called Dean to tell him the good news, but it went straight to voicemail.  You bit your lip and busied yourself with cleaning up your studio apartment.  You were in the middle of scrubbing your shower down when your phone started ringing.

“Hey Y/N, is everything okay?”

“Everything is fine.  I just wanted to let you know that I thought about your offer and wanted to let you know you have a new room mate, if you still want me.”

“Of course we still want you!”  You laughed out loud and wiped the sweat from your forehead.  “We had a hunt pop up, but we should be back home in a few days.  We can swing by your house and you can follow us back to the bunker, once we're done?”

“Yeah that sounds fine.  That'll give me time to settle everything here.”

“Dean! I could use a little help here!”  You heard Sam cry out in the background and to make matters worse, the line went dead.   You tried calling back, but there was no answer.  

--

You were pacing when you heard the familiar rumbling of the Impala outside.  Peeking out your window, you watched as the boys make their way to your door.  As soon as you heard the knocks, you threw the door open punched Dean in the face.  Dean's eyes widened and you could tell Sam was trying to hold back a laugh.  “What the hell Y/N?”

“Two days Dean - two days that I didn’t hear a word from you.  I was worried something bad happened to you!”

“What do you mean - oh shit!  Y/N, I'm sorry.  I was going to call you back once we took out the vampire’s nest but they broke my phone.”

“I’ll get you some ice.”  You muttered as you made your way to the kitchen.  You found a stray wash cloth and filled it with ice.  “Hey Dean?”

“What's up short stack?”

“Ha. Okay if vampires exist, do dhampirs exist too?”

“What in the hell …”

Sam chuckled and folded his arms.  “It's a possibility.  We haven't run into one, though.”

“Dean, I have a movie to show you once we get back to the bunker.”  You paused and turned to look at him.  “You don't mind watching anime do you?”  You heard Sam snicker and Dean glared at his younger brother and told him to shut up.

They helped you move all of your boxes to your car, and what didn't fit, went in the back seat of baby.  “Is that everything?”  Dean asked as he shut the passenger door.

“Yep.  I told the landlord earlier that if there was anything another family could use any of the furniture I left behind, he could just take it.”

“Well, let's go home then.”

--

“I forgot how huge this place was.”  You muttered to yourself before turning your car off.  

“Hey Y/N, we'll help you unpack tomorrow, okay?  That hunt was exhausting.”

“That's fine, just point me to a room where I can sleep for the night.”  

“That shouldn't be too hard, come on.”  You chuckled and followed the two of them down the maze like hallways.  “15 is our unofficial guest room.  Don't get freaked out if someone pops in here from time to time.”

“Okay..”  Sam and Dean left you alone after that.  You sighed as you flopped back on to the bed.  Maybe you could start unpacking tomorrow.  That was the last thought you had before your eyes fluttered shut and you fell asleep.

You spent the next day getting everything unpacked.  Sam helped you with all the cords and heavy lifting but Dean was nowhere to be found.  Your room was down the hall from Dean's but right next door to Sam's.  It wasn't until you were getting your laptop set up that you heard movement.

“Dean! Come on…” You called out from your room and you heard his boots stomping down the hall.  “Watch this with me and I'll make you as many full sized pies as you want!”  

“Can I pick the flavor?”

“Yeah sure, just get some drinks and snacks!”

--

“He's 10,000 years old? Benny wasn't even that old.”

“Doris please, haven't you ever heard of the strong and silent type?” You muttered as she attempted to fight the hunter in front of her.  You heard Dean chuckle and glanced over at him.  “What?”

“Nothing.”  

“She was bitten sure but there is more to the process.”  Dean took a swig of his beer and you looked at him confused.  “Vampires don't have to bite you nowadays to change you.  All you have to do is ingest some of their blood and the rate someone changes, that depends on the person.”

“You know a lot about vampires…”

“I'm a hunter Y/N.  Why else would I know so much?”  He really didn't want to tell you about his time as a vampire.

“Well they were hot.”  Dean muttered as the snake women transformed.  

“Really Dean?”

“I hate to say it but a candle wouldn't incapacitate a vampire.  Dead man's blood and beheading, that usually kills them.”

“Oh come on!  This dub changed one of the best lines.”

“What do you mean?”

“In the first dub, Doris basically tells D that he can sleep with her if he wants.”

“She was throwing herself at him pretty hard, I don't see how he could turn her down.”

“Well he did.”

“I think she might be a little pissed off after finding out she's the same as D..”

“No really, what gave you that idea?”

“No way he went down that easy! Also what the hell, his left hand is alive?”

“Yeah that was never really explained.  You might get some more information if you look it up.”

“If his left hand can talk, do you think he's ever used it during sex?” You choked on your drink and Dean patted you on the back.  “You okay?”

“I’m fine.”  You didn't want to admit that you had the same thought days before.

“Kid I have to say that fight was a little anticlimactic…”

“Yeah, I know.  There's so much you have to teach me.”  You muttered eating a handful of popcorn.  

“Sammy can teach you some more lore, and I'll show you how to defend yourself.  I'll even teach you how to take out a real vamp.”

“There's a catch isn't there..”

“Of course four pies - all pecan.”

“Do you even have the ingredients?”

“That's what supply runs are for.”

--

You spent the next day with Sam as Dean went on a supply run.  You made sure to look up a recipe for pecan pie so that way Dean got exactly what you needed for it.  

“Here you go, Y/N.”  Sam placed a huge stack of books right in front of you and he watched as you frowned.  Sam chuckled and handed you another book.  “This one is special, that’s our dad’s journal - read through that and if you have any questions, just ask.”  You watched him take a seat across from you with his laptop.  

“So vampires don't look like monsters at all…”

“They look completely normal.  Well minus the rows of fangs.”

“That sounds scary.”  You mumbled to yourself as you went back to reading.  You heard Sam's phone chime as you looked up from the journal.  “Dean's back..”  

“I guess it's dinner and pie making duty for me.”  You mumbled as you got up and stretched.  “Care if I take this to the kitchen with me to read?”

“Just be careful with it, okay?”

“Always.”

--t had been a few hours and you had finished reading John's journal when you heard Dean shuffling into the kitchen.  

 “Did you make them all?”  Dean practically rushes into the kitchen with you trailing behind him.  “Y/N, I've never asked this but marry me.”  You watch the smile grow on his face as he reaches the counter to see four pecan pies cooling.  You have to remind him to wipe the drool from his mouth.  

“Dean, I love you and I’m forever grateful for everything you’ve done for me.  There’s just one thing I have to tell you - I’m not interested in you like that.”

“So Sammy’s your type?”

“He has the smart, well read, and the tall part down but it’s the same with him.”  

“No sexual attraction to either of us.  Wow, I never thought I’d see the day.”  You called out to Sam to come eat and he appeared in the doorway with a book in hand.  You chuckled as you swatted Dean away from the pies - something you learned from the mini apple pies you made him was that Dean loves pie.  “I think it’s going to be my goal now to find out what gets you going.”  Dean muttered as you put a plate of food in front of him.  

“Should I ask?”  Sam thanked you as handed him his plate.  You shook your head as Dean took a huge bite of his cheeseburger.  

“Nope.”

--

Dean was teaching you how to defend yourself but after a while it just turned into sparring practice.  It wasn't until Sam interrupted, that the two of you took a short break.   “Hey Dean?”  

“Is something wrong?”  Dean was distracted and you landed a blow to Dean's side.  “Okay, okay we're done for the day.  You've improved quite a lot Y/N.”  Sam handed you a towel and you quietly thanked him.

“I just got a phone call from Jody.  She said she's having trouble with another vamp nest near her.”

“Does she want us to come help?”

“Yep.”  

“What about me?” You asked and wiped the sweat from your neck and face.

“Just this once, we'll take you.  There are some rules though - you follow every instruction we give you.”

“And if we tell you to stay back, you stay back.”

“Okay, I got it.”

“Now both of you go take a shower, and pack your bags, we have some vamps to hunt.”

[4everinsane]

Niall Horan - “Ya Did Good”

I’ve read a few blurbs lately of Niall being a father and knew this request has been sitting in my drafts so I felt it was time for this one. Enjoy dad!Niall! Let me know what ya thought!

You would never forget the look on Niall’s face when the two of you found out that you were pregnant. The look of pure joy that washed across that handsome face of his will be forever ingrained in your memory. He had then reached out for you and as he pulled you tight against his body he pressed kiss after kiss against your face as the two of you begin to laugh and cry happy tears, gripping onto one another tightly. 

That was over 5 months ago now and you were now just at 7 months pregnant - and miserable. Your entire body ached, you were constantly sick, you couldn’t sleep or get comfortable whatsoever and you were always hungry and had to pee literally as soon as you walked out of the bathroom after having just gone. You were still excited, of course, but the excitement of being pregnant had long since worn off for you and you were ready to hold your daughter already. You weren’t sure how you would last 2 more months.

It seemed for Niall, that as time went on and the sooner your due date became, the more real it became for him. He was excited at first but it didn’t truly hit him that he was going to be a father until the 6 month mark or so. 

“What are you even doing?” You question your husband as you appear at the top of the stairs and see that the entire landing was full of boxes and things that had previously been in the hall closet. You see Niall’s in the closet, rummaging around in a box. He stands, turning to face you and shrugs. 

“We’ve been needin’ to organize this closet anyway, need more storage for the little one,” He gestures towards your stomach before turning back towards the closet. You are still frowning, looking around at the mess he had made. 

“Isn’t it usually the mother that is supposed to get into nesting, clean and organization freak mode not the father?” You wonder as you grab for a pile of towels that were placed on top of box and begin to fold them. 

“Well I don’ see ya doin’ this,” He jokes as he walks over to you, holding a spare pillow in his hand. “Here, why don’ ya take a seat and rest, ya can fold all of these for me while I put these things away all organized. Made some space, got some stuff to get rid of or we can put i’ in the garage.” He tosses the pillow down at his feet and then reaches out for your hand. You sigh, dropping the towel and with his help ease yourself down onto the floor. Your back rested against the wall and the pillow under you offered you comfort and support. 

“Ya wanna organize our bedroom closet next while you’re at it? You have plenty in there you could get rid of.” You joke, giving him a smile as he reaches for the pile of towels and sets them beside you. He gives a sarcastic laugh before also moving the spare blankets over as well. 

“Jus’ ge’ to work, woman.” He leans down to press a gentle kiss to the top of your head before he disappears back into the closet. 

Moments like this continued for the next week or so. You would find Niall deep cleaning the kitchen floors, keeping up on the laundry, even washed all of the baby clothes that you had either bought or received as gifts since announcing your pregnancy and at your baby shower. He even organized all of the clothes by age and style. You were so thankful that he was being so helpful and going above and beyond to get ready for your daughter to arrive, especially when your doctor ordered you onto bed rest. 

“Is there somethin’ wrong?” Niall had questioned the doctor anxiously after she spoke these words and his blue eyes filled with concern as she sighs but she then shakes her head and gives a small smile.

“Both Y/N’s body and the baby seem to be showing some signs of distress. The further along a pregnancy gets, sometimes a woman’s body gets a bit tired and strains a little more than others. Nothing to worry about right now, you just need to stay off your feet as much as possible, keep a regular and healthy diet, and make sure you are getting enough fluids.” She explains, both of you nodding along, taking in the instructions. “At the very first feel of pain, small or big, give me a call,” 

Ever since the two of you got home then, Niall was making sure you stuck to the doctors orders. He immediately helped you get changed into your pajamas, even though it was 2 in the afternoon, and tucked you into bed with a glass of water, some snacks, and put on a movie as he set up a place for himself beside you with his laptop. At dinner time, he didn’t let you get up as he went off to cook, joining you in bed to enjoy it. He wouldn’t even let you go into the bathroom yourself. He all but lifted you off the bed himself so you had to strain as little as possible to do so. 

“Niall,” You groan after he helps you back into bed basically the same way. “I can manage getting in and out of bed. She said I needed to rest, not that I was an invalid.” You insist but he ignores you, pressing a kiss to your forehead after he had pulled the blankets up to your chin. 

This continued for another week and you were getting restless. You insisted that bed rest didn’t mean you had to be literally in bed but it took a lot of convincing for Niall to finally let you go down to rest in the living room instead. He busied himself with more cleaning, picked up the last few things the two of you needed for the baby, and cooked every meal for you, making sure your glass of water was always full and within reach. “Gotta get your fluids,” He would insist. 

You were so thankful to have Niall through all of this. You knew he would make such a good father, already being so protective and caring towards your little girl and she wasn’t even here yet. His favorite thing to do when he actually took the time to relax was curl up next to you, his nose pressed against your stomach as he spoke to her. She would often kick against him, as if in answer to his words. He wanted to make sure she knew his voice the moment she entered the world and you could already tell she loved her daddy, seeming to get excited the moment he walked in the room or spoke and always kicked for him when asked.

You awoke one night, the dead silence of the night making you question what had woken you for a second before you noticed it. It was a dull ache at first, low in your stomach but the next second a shooting pain ran across your entire stomach and you gasped. You reach over, grabbing at Niall’s shoulder to shake him awake. 

“Wha’sa matter?” He grumbles, barely opening his eyes but as soon as he sees you sitting up, holding your stomach he was up, completely awake and alert. “What’s happening?” He questions, reaching out to rest his large hands over yours. You were waiting to feel your baby kick, or even move around in someway but you felt nothing but that pain. 

“It hurts,” He was up then, sliding on a pair of jeans quickly before he rushes over to your side of the bed. 

“It’s alrigh’ love, we’re gonna be okay,” He comforts you when he takes in the tears in your eyes. His hands were gentle as he grasped yours, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. “Up ya get,” He helps you get dressed quickly and then grabs the bag he had thankfully already packed for the hospital and has to basically carry you down the stairs as the pain gets to be too much. 

“I can’t feel her, she isn’t moving,” You gasp as he drives towards the hospital. You were gasping as the pain came once more. You were barely 7 months pregnant, you were so worried about your little girl in that moment. 

“She’s alrigh’, baby, she’s gonna be okay. We’re almos’ there.” He assures you, reaching over to take your hand. His fingers tangle with yours before he brings your tangled hands up, kissing at the back of yours. You tried to believe him but you knew something was wrong. 

It was a few hours later that you ended up in full labor, your baby girl ready to make her entrance into the world whether you wanted her to or not. Your doctor said for the moment she was okay and was confident that she would be fine once delivered, she said it was best, especially for Y/N’s sake to deliver her. 

“It’s too early though. Can’t you stop the labor, delay it a bit? I’ll be fine.” You insist. Even though your doctor said your daughter should be fine, as far as they can tell so far, you would rather you suffer a bit to ensure there would be no doubt about her health. 

“I’m afraid you probably would’t be,” Your doctor gives you a soft look. You hear Niall’s sharp intake of breath at those words and he grasps at your wrist but you don’t look away from your doctor. “She’ll be in good hands, Y/N, I promise.”

An hour later your daughter entered the world and was instantly rushed off to the NICU. It was explained to you that her lungs were a little underdeveloped and she would need to be on oxygen for a few days. 

“She’s alrigh’, love,” Niall whispers to you later, laying beside you in your hospital bed, his arms tight around you as he presses his nose into your hair and you cry into his t-shirt. “They said she’ll be fine, she jus’ needs a bit of help for awhile.” 

“I feel like I failed her, as her mother,” Niall gasps, hugging you a little tighter against him. 

“Don’t ever think that, Y/N,” He starts, his voice firm. “You couldn’ control wha’ happened anymore than anyone else. It was her time to enter the world, is all.” He assures you but for the rest of the night, you had that sense of failure hanging over your head. 

First thing in the morning though, the second your baby girl was placed in your arms, those feelings were gone to be replaced with nothing but pure love and adoration. She was hooked up to an oxygen machine but otherwise was doing perfect. She was so beautiful and you and Niall were both so in love already. 

“She’s perfec’,” He mutters, a few tears sliding down his cheeks as he looks down at his daughter. He wanted to hold onto her forever and never let her go. She was fast asleep in her fathers arms, completely at peace. He presses a gentle kiss to her forehead, careful to not wake her. “Ya did good, love.” He says, looking over at you. You give him a tear filled smile from your seat beside him, leaning over to press a gentle kiss to his lips. 

“We both did good, I say.” You insist, leaning down to take in your baby, Niall doing the same. “She has your nose, after all.” You reach out, pressing a finger gently against her little nose. “Hoping she has your blue eyes,” 

“She’s beautiful, no matter wha’,” Niall comments, you having no reason to disagree. “Can’ wai’ to take ya home, little love,” He whispers to her, rocking her gently. This was definitely an image you could get used to. Your love for Niall had increased so much just at the sight of him with his baby. You were more than ready to start your life raising your child together. You were so thankful that, even though she was born early, she was okay and healthy and wouldn’t have to stay in the hospital long once she gained some weight and her lungs developed a little more. “Thank you for bringin’ her into me life,” Niall looks up at you, his eyes filled with tears. You smile, reaching a hand out to wipe away the wetness before you lean in to kiss him. 

“Thank you for being a better father and husband than I could ever ask for.” He gives you a smile before looking back down at his daughter. You rest your head against his shoulder and the two of you sit in peace, happy to just be there together as a family.

[geckcellent]

tagged by @habenaria-radiata an i’ve been sleeping on this for like 2 days bc iT LOOKS SO FUN 8′| but haven’t been on pc til now. ty 4 tag !! answers are below the cut.

1. rean/jusis (sen no kiseki) 2. inaho/slaine (aldnoah zero) 3. naoya/abel (desu1) 4. hibiki/yamato (desu2) 5. johan/judai (ygo gx) 6. nanashi/hallelujah (smt iv:a) 7. jomy/blue (terra e) 8. protag/arata (digimon cyber sleuth) 9. abel/atsuro (desu1) 10. karma/nagisa (assclass)

All questions for copy+paste:

1. Do you remember the episode/scene/chapter that you first started shipping 6?

2. Have you ever read a fanfic about 2?

3. Has a picture of 4 ever been your screensaver/profile picture/tumblr screensaver?

4. If 7 were to suddenly break up today, what would your reaction be?

5. Why is 1 so important?

6. Is 9 a funny ship or a serious ship?

7. Out of all the ships listed, which ship has the most chemistry?

8. Out of all your ships listed, which ship has the strongest bond?

9. How many times have your read/played/watched 10’s fandom?

10. Which ship has lasted the longest?

11. How many times, if ever, has 6 broken up?

12. If the world was suddenly thrust into a zombie apocalypse, which ship would make it out alive, 2 or 8?

13. Did 7 ever have to hide their relationship for any reason?

14. Is 4 still together?

15. Is 10 canon?

16. If all 10 ships were put into a couple’s Hunger Games, which couple would win?

17. Has anybody ever tried to sabotage 5’s ship?

18. Which ship would you defend to the death and beyond?

19. Do you spend hours a day going through 3’s tumblr page?

20. If an evil witch descended from the sky and told you that you had to pick one of the ten ships to break up forever or else she’d break them all forever, which ship would you sink?

no obligation ofc but! tagging @neutralend, @jusis-albarea, @moments-minutes-more + cien/king/azu/lightful whose urls i fORGET BC I’D FORGET MY HEAD SOMEWHERE IF IT WAS PHYSICALLY POSSIBLE TO PUT IT DOWN 

1. Do you remember the episode/scene/chapter that you first started shipping 6? LITERALLY LIKE THE SECOND JUSIS WALKED ON SCREEN 2 SECONDS INTO SEN 1 AND CALLED THEM ALL DUMB HOES 😂😂

2. Have you ever read a fanfic about 2? bitch i'm like pretty sure i've read the entire ao3 tag. not that that takes long tho //rarefandom blues

3. Has a picture of 4 ever been your screensaver/profile picture/tumblr screensaver? UHH. on my psp like years ago, when i was a baby geck i stored all my ~pg-13~ pics on my psp bc my dad was always remote monitoring stuff on my desktop acct sO YEAH i had a rotating background pic of various low res kazunao on cycle

4. If 7 were to suddenly break up today, what would your reaction be? HEY OP, THAT SURE IS IRONIC, FUCK YOU

5. Why is 1 so important? LISTEN WITHOUT THEIR VERY GAY ~BOND~ JUSIS WOULDA STILL BEEn an asshole tryhard """perfect noble""" and rean woulda been 4eva alone bc honestly..,,, ... .. ,,, , if they hadn't had a superstrong bond then the plot would've crashed and burned like midway through sen 2 as well tbh

6. Is 9 a funny ship or a serious ship? why are you calling me out like this?????? >:T is a serious ship but they're pretty funny funky compared to kazunao (thinking emoji)

7. Out of all the ships listed, which ship has the most chemistry? THAT'S TOUGH BC LIKE I FIRMLY BELIEVE ALL THESE SHIPS WOULD DIE/WALK THROUGH FIRE/EAT A LIVE BULLET ANT FOR THEIR PARTNER but uhh if i had to pick i'd say karma/nagisa just bc of how amazing of a team they are in canon. least chemistry though?? DEFINITELY inaho/slaine, they make it work with a lotta dedication and grease and also by being more stubborn than god tbh

8. Out of all your ships listed, which ship has the strongest bond? honestly op this is like breaking into my house and taking my dog and cat hostage and saying only one of them can survive wtf !! iii think strongest bond is either inasure once all issues have been started working through, or hibiyama at basically any point post-sept route though.

9. How many times have you read/played/watched 10's fandom? all the way through?? like 3 times, once the anime and twice the manga aaand then i read bits of the manga piecemeal from time to time.

10. Which ship has lasted the longest? WELL LET'S SEE UHH my immediate urge was to say hibiyama for having 2 whole lives together (+1 4eva alone pining cycle for yamato) but honestly 2 ain't got nothin on kazunao for lifetimes spent statistically LMAOOOO. but also like rean/jusis is going strong 4 games now and H O NEST they only get gayer every game !! err if this meant ship longevity relevant to shipper then johan/judai is the 1st ship i fought my homophobic parents over as a baby geck and honestly there was no turning back,

11. How many times, if ever, has 6 broken up? I'M GOING TO SCREAM I THINK BECAUSE THEY DID ONCE. IN CANON. IT WAS VERY MESSY THERE WAS A LOT OF DEATH INVOLVED AND HONESTLY I LOVE IV:A BUT HOLY FUCK

12. If the world was was suddenly thrust into a zombie apocalypse, which ship would make it out alive, 2 or 8? Huh that's tough actually. abel is basically god and atsuro's a smart techie so they're a superpower team, but canon already ran inasure within like a millimeter of their lives and both of them are extremely competent AND dogged af so?? i think they both would. but also like any survival/gauntlet-type question is immediately biased towards abel so i rule he should be disqualified tbh

13. Did 7 ever have to hide their relationship for any reason? first of all there are no secrets on a ship full of closely bonded telepaths and second of all no. no. no. blue is the GAYEST fucko i have literally ever seen grace the screen. bitch's hobby is gazing intently into jomy's eyes and flying around with him while one or both are naked. LISTEN,

14. Is 4 still together? yeah and they will be til death do they part

15. Is 10 canon? honestly???? no relationships are ever confirmed except the teacher related ones but if you have eyes and a brain even if it's vestigal then yeah, canon.

16. If all 10 ships were put into a couple’s Hunger Games, which couple would win? going with my earlier ruling to DQ abel "god is my bitch" minegishi related ships, it'd either be inasure or karma/nagisa, the former being extremely adaptable tactically and the latter being literally unmatched in the kind of situation hunger games death gauntlets take place in. counting abel in though, everyone rallies together probably behind johan/judai who have this naruto-like infectiously enthusiastic leadership, bust outta the game and beat up the sponsors.

17. Has anybody ever tried to sabotage 5's ship? OH GOD AND HOW LMFAO, lookin at you yubel. but uhh we got some very gay scenes outta it and also hot bondage not-johan and it resolved nicely so we good o/

18. Which ship would you defend to the death and beyond? listen op i'm looking you directly beady eyes to beady eyes and telling you to put my cat and dog down and back away slowly hhh. all of them. all. of them

19. Do you spend hours a day going through 3's tumblr page? not anymore, there's just not much new content production for them

20. If an evil witch descended from the sky and told you that you had to pick one of the ten ships to break up forever or else she’d break them all forever, which ship would you sink? OP TURN ON YOUR LOCATION I JUST WANNA TALK ! !! ..jokes aside if i HAD to break one of them it would be jomy/blue bc honestly an amicable breakup for them would still be miles kinder than canon (PENSIVE x99)

[kohanamoonlight]

A small collection of notes.

Alright. Before I post these. I'm warning ya'll now, this has to do with suicide notes from mine and @unabashedhamiltrash22 au.

Eliza,

I... I can't ever thank you enough for what you did for Charlie and I. Carrying our dear Philip for us. You have such a big heart, I know that one day for sure that you and Maria will have a pup of your very own. And that pup will be just as vibrant and loving as you are. I'm so sorry I won't be around to meet them. I've gone for so long, but, I'm a weak man. You all will be fine with time.

Love always,

Jacky.

Charlie,

Even as I write this, my tears are staining the paper. Know that I love you, Pip, and Frances very much. You my dear are the love of my life. You were there through a lot for me, even if we weren't always on the best of terms. You were still there. I don't want you mourning me forever, I want you to be able to move on, love again. Please promise me you will. Don't become ill like I did.

Love,

Jacky.

Sammy,

Oh... What do I say to you. I was such a little shit at times... And, I'm sorry for that. When I came across you when you were escaping George. I knew I had to help you. And oh... Am I ever happy I made that decision to help you. I remember for the first while... Even though the alphas in the pack could be trusted, I would still scent you, trying to keep you safe. It took you some time to come out of your shell. But when you did, boy... It was amazing. You're basically the secong in command at this point. You hold the pack together when I can't. .. Please-- continue to do so. Our pup, Alex... Everyone is going to need you more than ever. Everyone is going to need eachother. Please.. Make sure of one thing... I'm buried next to Alexander.. I want to see him again.

-Jacky.

Thomas,

Thomas, Tommy. 'M sorry if you're the one that ended up finding me. I had to when I knew someone who wouldn't really check on me was home, pr if no one was home.

We fought... A lot... Fucked a few times out of pure anger. Thomas you're an ass, but. Yet, Tommy was my best friend. No one ever knew when we qere in the communal nest and we were asleep if we were Tommy and Jacky... Or if we just bitched at eachother until we fell asleep. I'm sure they all had bets on which one it was.. That's for us to know though. Take care of Sammy.

-Jacky

Lafayette,

I've known you for years. Since middle school. We became fast friends when you came from France. We did have that falling out at some point because I was a coward and I ran shortly after my daughter was born. When we ran into eachother on the street two years later, you didn't get angry with me, you just hugged me and pulled Alexander into the hug as well. I had felt like I was missing something before then despite being very happy with Charlie. You were part of what I was missing. I simply needed your company. Charlie... Laf, please. Take good care of him. He's going to need someone. I know you've developed some deep feelings for him since we all lost Alex. It's been three years now... I don't blame you, he is a loving, amazing man, continue to love him, please.

Je t'aime Laf.

-Jacky.

Philip,

Oh, my dear son.. I know I'm going to regret not being able to see you grow up. You're such a smart, Vibrant young man. Eight years old and able to figure most things out. I just know you'll grow up to be an amazing man, who will have his own pack one day. Keep those dear to you close, and I beg you, talk to them if you're ever hurting. Tell them, get some help. That's what a pack is for, to help and love you no matter what.

I love you, a lot.

-Dad.

Frances,

My little princess. How you mean the world to me. The day you came into the world, I cried. Cried the first time I held you, you were so tiny, eyes full of wonder. You've really grown up into a beautiful woman, the oldest out of all of the pups by a mere two months. I know you'll be able to conquer anything you put your mind to. Don't let this get you down for too long, as you should know, I'm no longer in pain, that I didn't suffer, that I'll be safe in a good place with my mum.. I'm so sorry for leaving you this way.

Love,

Daddy.

[organiclifestylemagazine]

Interview With Joel Salatin, Polyface Farms

Joel Salatin is an American farmer and author. He owns Polyface Farms, which is known for its small scale unconventional farming methods. Months ago I heard Joel on a Joe Rogan podcast and was immediately blown away. It’s not very often that we hear people discuss the gut microbiome on one of the most popular podcasts in the country.

Here’s that podcast. I highly recommend listening to it if you have the time.

Along with discussing the gut microbiome, Joel talked about his farm, Polyface Farms. Polyface Farms is located in Virginia, and they do things a little differently than most. The land that is now Polyface farms was purchased by Joel’s parents in 1961. They’re all about regenerative farming through sustainable practices, like pasture-raised meat, carbon sequestration, and working in a seasonal cycle.

In short, it’s a dream come true for someone like myself who is all about organic eco-friendly agriculture, so naturally, I had to ask Joel a couple of questions.

The older generation is a big fan of talking about life when they were young. My grandfather loves to talk about the fact that he was raised on cow’s milk, and he turned out “just fine.” The difference, of course, is that the milk he was raised on was unpasteurized small scale cows milk. What encouraged you to get into small scale sustainable farming? Does it relate back to how you were raised or did you have some sort of revelation in life? Feel free to comment on how things have changed if you have any thoughts on that.

My paternal grandfather was a charter subscriber to Rodale’s Organic Gardening and Farming Magazine when it came out in the late 1940s.  He always wanted to farm but never did.  He had a very large garden, though, and sold extra produce to neighbors and corner grocers.  My dad received his no-chemical indoctrination, then, from Grandpa, so I’m the third generation in the compost tradition.  My Dad was a financial wizard and did accounting work all his life.  After flying Navy bombers in WWII, he went to Indiana University on the GI bill and then headed off to Venezuela, South America as a bilingual accountant with Texas Oil Company.  His long-range goal was a farm in a developing country and Venezuela seemed as good as any.  After about 7 years he’d saved up enough to buy 1,000 acres in the highlands of Venezuela and began farming.  The goal was dairy and broilers. My older brother and I were born during that time, and things looked bright.  But then came a junta and the ouster of Peres Jimenez and animosity toward anything American; we fled the back door as the machine guns came in the front door; lost everything and after exhausting all attempts at protection, (we) came back to the U.S. Easter Sunday 1961, landing in Philadelphia. Mom grew up in Ohio and Texas and all their family was in Ohio and Indiana, but Dad’s heart was still in Venezuela and he hoped after the political turmoil settled to be able to return to our farm.  

With that in mind, he wanted to be within a day’s drive of Washington D.C. so he could get to the Venezuelan Embassy quickly and easily to do paperwork and return. That never happened, but it’s why we ended up in Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley.  When I hit 41, I remember thinking: “If I lost it all, would I start over?” That’s what Dad and Mom did in 1961. I was 4.  Dad did his accounting work, and Mom was a high school health and physical ed teacher; that off-farm income paid the mortgage and within 10 years the land was paid off.  Dad combined his ecology with his economic understanding to create some broad principles: animals move; mobile infrastructure; direct marketing; carbon-driven fertility.  I had my first flock of laying hens when I was 10 years old and then added a garden.  By 14 years old, I was our main salesman at the local Curb Market, a Depression-era hold-over that foreshadowed today’s farmers’ markets.  With only 3 vendors, it struggled but after a couple of years, we had a growing and steady clientele for our pastured meats, poultry, eggs, produce, and dairy products (yogurt, butter, cottage cheese). We closed it down when I went off to college and the other two elderly matrons at the market quite as well so by the time I came home, that market and all of its wonderful grandfathered food safety exemptions were gone forever.

I’ve always said we were about 20 years ahead of our time.  Operating that market during my teen years of early 1970s as the nascent back-to-the-land hippie movement germinated was not easy, but the lessons were invaluable when I returned to the farm and started building a clientele on my own in 1980, long before modern farmers’ markets. Teresa and I married in 1980, remodeled the attic of the farmhouse, and lived there for 7 years until Mom and Dad moved out from downstairs to a mobile home parked outside the yard.  My Mom’s mother had lived there for 10 years and passed away, making that spot available.  As an investigative reporter at the local daily newspaper, I realized every business was desperate for people who would show up on time, put in a full days’ work without whining, and actually creatively think through better ways of doing things all made me highly employable.  Living on $300 a month, driving a $50 car, growing all of our own, cutting our own firewood for winter warmth, not having a TV—all these things enabled us even without a high salary to squirrel away half the paycheck.  Within a couple of years we had saved enough to live on for a year.  I walked out of that office Sept. 24, 1982, with a one-year cash nest egg and the jeering of every person I knew”  “He’s throwing his life away.”  “All that talent and he’s going to waste it on a farm.” “Don’t you know you can’t make any money farming?”

We succeeded. 

While we were watching the podcast you did with Joe Rogan, my dad and I had several “Wow!” moments listening to you. One of us would be in the kitchen, and we would run into the living room where the podcast was playing, and share a look of absolute awe. “This guy is talking about the stuff that we talk about! And he’s on Joe Rogan!” We don’t know many people who talk about gut health the way we do. How did you learn about the importance of the body’s microbiome? Is there a correlation between your knowledge of the microbiome and how you run your farm? 

Perhaps the most profound truth in life is that everything we see floats in an ocean of invisible beings.  With electronic microscopes, we can now see many of these things, but because we can’t see them with the naked eye, they are not in our momentary conscience.  It’s hard to forget the microbes floating in the air, on our skin, in our eyes, nostrils, and intestines.  Our farm’s wellness philosophy stems from Antoine Béchamp, the French contemporary and nemesis of Louis Pasteur.  While Pasteur promoted the germ theory and busied himself destroying and sterilizing, Beauchamp advanced the terrain theory and encouraged people to think about basic immunity.  Rather than sterilization, he encouraged sanitation.  He encouraged folks to get more sleep, drink more and better water (much of the water at that time was putrid) and eat better food.  Along came Sir Albert Howard half a century later adding the soil dimension to this basic wellness premise.

In general, we believe nature’s default position is fundamentally wellness and if it’s not well, we humans probably did something to mess it up.  That’s a far cry from assuming wellness is like catching lightning in a bottle, and some sort of sickness fairy hovers over the planet dropping viral stardust willy nilly.  Sickness and disease, whether in humans, plants, or animals are not the problem in and of themselves; they simply manifest weaknesses developed in the unseen world.  Every sickness or disease we’ve ever had on our farm was our fault.  We may have selected the wrong seedstock, crowded things, created incubators for pathogens.  You can stress things a lot of different ways.  But our assumption when confronted with non-wellness is not to assume we missed a vaccine or a pharmaceutical, but rather to ask “what did we do to break down the immunological function of this plant or animal?”  That leads to far more profound truth than assuming we didn’t select the right connection from the chemistry lab.

The fact that today people actually talk about the microbiome in polite company is a fantastic societal breakthrough. Hopefully, it will continue.

The current “pandemic” resulted in a total collapse of our food chain at big grocery stores. While things have since calmed down and straightened out, many people are now aware of just how weak our food supply chain is. The obvious solution- buy small- scale, buy local. The obvious problem- buying meat the right way, (small scale and local) is expensive. Here where I am in Detroit we’ve got a great meat guy, but a couple of weeks ago I found myself at the Dekalb farmers market in Atlanta. I spent $9 for one pound of organic, grass-fed ground beef. What are your thoughts for people who are concerned about the costs of shopping ethically? On a broader scale, do you have any solutions to this? 

Price; it’s one of the biggest and most common questions.  So let’s tackle it on several fronts.

1.  Whenever someone says they can’t afford our food, I grab them by the arm and say “take me to your house.” Guess what I find there? Take-out, coffee, alcohol, sometimes tobacco, Netflix, People magazine, iPhones, flat-screen TV, tickets to Disney, lottery tickets—you get the drift. Very seldom does “I can’t afford it” carry any weight. We buy what we want, and that includes many folks below the poverty line.  

2.  Buy unprocessed. That $9 ground beef is still less than a fast food meal of equal nutritional value. Domestic culinary skills are the foundation of integrity food systems, and never have we had more techno-gadgetry to make our kitchens efficient. The average American spends fewer than 15 minutes a day in their kitchen. Nearly 80 percent of Americans have no clue at 4 p.m. what’s for dinner. In fact, the new catchphrase for millennials is “what’s dinner?” not “what’s for dinner?” So cooking from scratch is the number one way to reduce costs. Right now you can buy a whole Polyface pastured broiler, world-class, for less a pound than boneless skinless breast Tyson chicken at Wal-Mart. The most expensive heirloom Peruvian blue potato at New York City green markets is less per pound than Lay’s potato chips across the street. It’s about the processing.

3.  Buy bulk. Get a freeze and buy half a beef or 20 chickens at a time.  Buy a bushel of green beans and can them.  We buy 10 bushels of apples every fall and spend two days making applesauce; it’s cheaper than watery junk at the supermarket and is real food.  That’s not a waste of time; it’s kitchen camaraderie.  On our farm, we give big price breaks for volume purchasing because it’s simply more efficient to handle a $500 transaction than 25 $20 transactions.  This means, of course, that you must have a savings plan.  Half of all Americans can’t put their hands on $400 in cash.  That’s not an expensive food problem; that’s an endemic and profound failure to plan

Q: Here at OLM we’re a big fan of systems. We also have 10,000 square foot urban farm right in our back yard and are getting chickens very soon. Developing a farm feels a bit like an optimal opportunity to create the “perfect” system. I’m curious as to how the farm is systemized to be self-sustainable. I’m wondering if the farm is carbon neutral or carbon negative? Do you let your chickens work on your compost pile? Do you monitor cow grazing for optimum carbon sequestration? What advice do you have for the many people including us, who have just started growing our food after the current crisis?

Perhaps the starting point is to think of integration rather than segregation.  How many different species of things can you hook together for symbiosis?  So we follow the cows with the laying hens in Eggmobiles to scratch through the cow dung, spread out the manure as fertilizer, and eat the fly larvae out of the cowpats (this mimics the way birds always follow herbivores in nature).  We build compost with pigs (we call them pig aerators).  We have chickens underneath rabbit cages, generating $10,000 a year in a space the size of a 2-car garage and making the most superb compost in the world.  We see trees as carbon sinks to integrate with open land; industrial commercial chippers enable us to chip crooked, diseased, and dying trees for compost carbon.  The kitchen and gardening scraps go to the chickens.  Hoop houses for rabbits, pigs, and chickens in the winter double up as vegetable production in the spring, summer, and fall, creating pathogen dead-ends for the plants and animals growing there at different times of the year.  Integration is everything.

In half a century, we’ve moved our soil organic matter from 1 percent to 8.2 percent.  I don’t know if we’re overall carbon-neutral, but we’ve done this without buying an ounce of chemical fertilizer and using 800 percent less depreciable infrastructure per gross income dollar than the average U.S. farm.  That creates resilience.  Over the years we’ve installed 8 miles of waterlines from permaculture style high ponds that catch surface run-off and gravity feed to the farmland below.  And the rocks and gullies now grow vegetation where none grew before.  This is not pride; it’s a humble acknowledgment of a Creator’s benevolent and abundant design; it’s our responsibility to caress this magnificent womb.

Interview With Joel Salatin, Polyface Farms was originally published on Organic Lifestyle Magazine