#tw: parenthood

[nowritingonthewall]

Absolutely loved your 👶 and 💍 headcannons for Steven, not to mention Marc’s marriage headcannons. If you don’t mind, could you do 👶 headcannons with Jake and Marc (and possibly 💍 for Jake)?

Hello lovely Nonnie, here comes part two 🥰

!Content warning for pregnancy, parenthood, and past trauma!

Please be aware that I am neither an expert on DID nor on trauma.

Angsty because it’s Marc, but also fluffy because he deserves it.

👶 Family headcanons with Marc Spector (x female reader)

- When you first find out that you are pregnant, Marc is absolutely terrified of the idea of becoming a father. No matter how far he may have come on his healing journey, a part of him is still grappling with the guilt of not being able to save his little brother, while another part keeps telling him that he wasn’t able to protect Steven the way that he should have.

How could he, Marc Spector, who ruins the life of everybody that he gets in contact with, be trusted with the responsibility of taking care of something as precious and fragile and helpless as a newborn child? And what about when they grow up? What will happen if his child witnesses him being triggered into a melt down, what kind of pain will he inflict upon them if he isn’t able to control his rage and aggression in front of them? And his nightmare of all nightmares: What if he turns into his mother?

- So, while Steven dives straight into learning everything possible there is to know about pregnancy and child birth, as Jake launches ‘Project mission impossible: making your flat child safe’,  Marc falls back on his instinct to retreat and let Steven and Jake be the fathers that your child deserves. Of course, neither you nor his alters are ready to accept that.

It’ll take a lot of love and patience to convince him how much he is worthy of being a father, but fortunately, he has got you and Steven and Jake to help and support him (and he doesn’t deserve any less).

- During the first few weeks of your pregnancy, he carefully avoids your bump as if he could hurt your unborn child just by touching it.

When his hand lands on your belly for the first time by pure accident and he can feel the little one reacting to him, it suddenly hits him in all its brutal force, the reality of it all and the small and precious little life growing inside of you. But before the rising panic can get a proper hold of him, you carefully lay a re-assuring hand over his, while you gently cup his face with your other hand and remind him how to breathe and that he wasn’t alone and that everything was going to be okay. When his breathing returns to normal, you ask him carefully whether he would like to see the first sonogram of his son. Not letting go of his hand, you wait until he nods ever so slightly before presenting him with the very first ultrasonic scan of your child. You can see a whole galaxy of emotions pass through his eyes before he looks back to you with a soft yet determined gentleness.

Marc is a protector. And while his unshakable need to protect the ones he loves may not erase his fears, it is certainly strong enough to pose a counterweight to be reckoned with. And you are there. And Steven. And Jake.

And maybe… just maybe… it is going to be okay…

- His protectiveness doesn’t only go through the roof; it flies right to the end of the universe and back again. You so much as think of lifting anything heavier than a cup of tea and he is at your side immediately, offering a helping hand. (He respects you way too much to simply take anything out of your hands, but he is always there to offer his help.)

At the slightest sign of you showing any discomfort, he’s there, with no need or wish of you being too ridiculous or too exhausting to fulfil. Even though he may struggle to put his feelings into words, his actions more than speak for themselves.

He would take all the pain from you, if only he could find a way to do so.

- Your sudden mood swings are particularly hard on him in the beginning. Every time you start to cry for no apparent reason, he defaults to assuming that he must have done something wrong. Even after Steven has had a long and detailed discussion with him about “those bleedin’ ‘ormones”.

Yet, no matter how much it may hurt himself to see you in discomfort and no matter how helpless he may feel upon having to watch you being in pain without being able to do anything to ease it, he swallows it all down, as he lies down with you, gently holding you and hugging you and stroking your back until you are feeling a little better.

- The first time that Marc finds himself completely alone with your son lying in front of him on the changing table, he struggles to fight against the all too familiar rising panic of doing something wrong.

As his son looks up at him with his bright and shining eyes, he can see Steven in them, his wonder and curiosity. He can see Roro in them, his innocence and admiration for his older brother. He remembers how his mother would shush him away harshly, whenever he wanted to help her take care of little Roro. As if he could hurt his little brother, simply by being there. And somehow it was always his fault whenever Roro started to cry.

But instead of starting to cry when Marc cradles his head with his warm protective hand ever so softly, his son squeals and kicks his little legs into the air, before trying to grab for Marc’s curls.

And then he can see himself. Innocent little Marc who never understood what he had done to deserve to be treated like that by his mother. Before he had given her a reason to hate him. And as his silent tears start to fall, Steven’s words are echoing through his mind, “It wasn’t your fault!”

With the excited babbling of his son bringing him back to the present, he begins to smile through his tears. One of those rare and real Marc smiles.

Placing the softest of kisses on his son’s forehead, he whispers, “Hey, little one. I am sorry that you’re stuck with me as your dad. But you’ve got the best mommy in the whole world and your other two dads are there to make sure that I don’t screw up, okay? And… I promise that I’m always gonna be there for you, little one!”

- In the beginning, Marc feels somewhat anxious about never knowing what to say to your little son (and later your daughter) and just chatter away like Steven would. He doesn’t really know any lullabies, either, because he can’t remember his parents ever singing to him and the memory of his mother singing to Roro is still too painful to explore. So at one point he starts to gently hum whatever melody comes to his mind and your little ones don’t seem to mind at all to be softly lulled to sleep by hard rock or metal melodies.

The first few times you catch him doing so, he immediately stops, all flustered and maybe even a little ashamed. So you start to listen from the next room, which may be a little sneaky, but you can’t resist that beautiful sound of his voice, gently floating through your flat like a soothing and nourishing balm for everything that is hurting in your mind and heart and soul.

One night, though, when the both of you are particularly exhausted and your son won’t stop crying, no matter how hard you try to soothe him, and you are fighting to get up again, Marc softly tells you to go back to sleep, even though he is hardly able to keep himself up on his own two feet himself. A few minutes later you find them on the coach, your little son curled up on Marc’s chest, his little fingers buried into the fabric of his dad’s shirt, slumbering peacefully as Marc keeps gently humming what happens to be your very favourite song. When he doesn’t stop upon noticing you standing in the doorway, you tiptoe over to them, carefully smooth a stray curl from his face and place a soft kiss to his forehead before whispering, “You’ve got a lovely voice, sweetie. May I join you?” Probably too tired to protest, he just smiles and nods, reaching out his arm for you to invite you to snuggle up to him. 

So now, whenever you are the one who can’t sleep or you are just yearning for a little peace of mind, you ask Marc whether he could hum a little tune for you with that beautifully soothing voice of his. And he is always happy to hold you tight while softly lulling you to sleep.

- Marc prefers structured baby carriers to buggies and strollers. With his kids safely secured to him, it’s so much easier to keep his hands free for fighting off villains and potential kidnapping attempts. Even while constantly scanning your surroundings, he keeps checking on your kids every few seconds, making sure that they are still comfortable and their head doesn’t loll into a weird position. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to the warm feeling that caresses your heart whenever you see his eyes soften as he looks down at your children in complete awe, the little wonder so close to his heart.

- Marc never leaves your little ones to cry on their own. Especially after you have reassured him that it is literally impossible to love and comfort a baby too much.

As soon as he hears the tiniest of sobs in the next room, he needs to check on them. Always careful, never overwhelming them with his protective yet calm manners, but always there in case they might need him. And your little ones know that he’ll be their safe haven as soon as they reach out their little arms for him.

Now and then he has to stifle a sob over how trusting your children are towards him. And even though you always notice, he usually acts as if it was nothing. But he’ll still allow you to pull him into a hug and melts into you as you gently stroke over his hair, placing a loving and knowing kiss on top of his head.

With every reassuring word from you, the raging screams of his mother in his mind are fading a little more and every time that his kids are reaching out for him with nothing but endless trust in their eyes, another wound in his heart begins to heal.

- Marc doesn’t let loose easily. Even though his frown is turned upside down a lot more frequently ever since your children came into your life, it still takes a lot for him to let down his guard. So you are more than a little surprised when you come home during your kids’ very first mummy wrap game that quickly turned into a full blown toilet paper battle and it’s actually Marc fronting and laughing until is beautiful eye crinkles are sprinkled with tears of happiness.

Instead of stern looks or even screams reprimanding him, he is met with the delighted squeals and giggles of his children, which are soon accompanied by your wonderful laughter. So he doesn’t stop until every piece of toilet paper is destroyed and you are all lying on the floor cuddled together for official peace talks. The moment that he properly takes in the mess and the first signs of guilt start to creep up on his face, you pull him closer and cover his face in soft little kisses so that those nasty feelings immediately surrender and retreat to where they came from.  

- We know that Marc is the most ticklish one of your boys and he loves to draw those little giggles from your kids after finding out that gently tickling them is such a lovely way to make them smile again, whenever they seem close to crying (though he always goes through his little checklist to make sure that everything else is okay, first).

That is, until your kids become a little older and Jake sneakily teaches them how to tickle back. Your beloved cosy morning cuddle sessions with Marc and your little ones quickly turn into absolute mayhem after that.

- Marc has a hard time saying no to his children, unless there’s an immediate threat to their safety (and even then it breaks his heart to see their disappointed faces). Sometimes you come home to find him covered from head to toe in finger paint as your kids are discovering their artistic talents. Sometimes you find him with a hundred little tails and bows in his hair. And sometimes you just have to rescue him after being tied to a chair for hours.

- Marc used to love the original Star Wars trilogy when he was a kid. In fact, those were probably the only movies that came even close to rivalling his love for Tomb Buster. And despite all the pain that comes with remembering how he used to watch them with his little brother, re-discovering that universe with your children gives him a chance to balance those painful memories with more happy ones.

When your little family sits down in front of the tv to watch The Force Awakens for the very first time together, it doesn’t take long for your kids’ eyes to grow larger than the moon. As a certain dashingly handsome and brave flyboy appears on the screen, your son’s eyes dart to his dad. And he looks back at the screen. And he looks at his dad. And he looks back at the screen. And he looks at his dad. And he looks back at the screen. And he looks at his dad. And then he lowers his voice, whispering conspiratorially, “Dad, are you… are you a hero in disguise on a secret undercover mission?”

As you involuntarily snort into your tea, your daughter explains matter-of-factly, “Of course he’s a hero, dummy. That’s why there are never any monsters under our bed. Have you seen the size of the spider he caught in the kitchen yesterday?”

Needless to say who Marc has to disguise as for Halloween for the next couple of years. And your kids are very persistent in their opinion of believing that of all the boys, Marc is the one that resembles Poe the most. Even more so when you’re able to convince him to grow those poe-tic mini sideburns (which only takes, like, two days).

And after an exciting evening of guising (or trick-or-treating), he turns into an X-wing and carries his little rebels safely back home. 

- Marc gives the warmest, most comforting and reassuring hugs imaginable. And your children never completely outgrow their longing for being welcomed by his open arms. Whether they just need a shoulder to cry on or a moment of really basking in the warmth of feeling unconditionally loved and cared for, completely safe as if nothing in the universe could ever hurt them.

His hugs were really born from his endless need to protect and comfort his children, while at the same time being convinced that anything he might say would only make things worse. So he had just hoped that your children would be able to feel at least a fraction of the love and care that he put into each of his hugs.

When your daughter gets her heart broken by a boy for the very first time and you aren’t home yet, he sits with her for hours, desperately trying to ignore all the things that he would like to do to that bastard. Just holding her close to his heart, gently stroking up and down her back. Answering each of her sobs with a soft kiss to her temple. Hugging her a little tighter whenever a new wave of tears begins to fall.  

When her sobs begin to subside, she looks up at him, smiling through her tears, and gives him a heart-felt kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you, Dad!”

“What for, Sweetie?”

“For… well... you never try to talk me out of my shitty feelings. You just accept them and me, and… and… and are just there for me. And… I love you, Dad!”

Now it’s Marc that needs a hug. All this time he has thought that nothing he could try would ever be good enough. And now it looks like the parts of him that make him feel like failing his children the most are actually exactly what they seem to have needed all along.

He gets that hug and so much more when you find him on the couch that night, after having a long comforting session with your daughter yourself. And it seems like you know exactly what’s going through his mind. Somehow, you always know.

Wrapping your arms around him from behind, you slowly let your hands wander down his arms until your chin comes to rest on his shoulder and you can intertwine your hands with his.

“You’re a wonderful dad, Marc.”

“Yeah… because of Steven and Jake and you.”

“And you!” You gently cup his cheek and guide his head to make him look at you.

“Your children love you, Marc. We love you!”

Before his first sob can really break to the surface, you catch it with your wonderfully warm lips. Your own tears are threatening to fall when you can feel how easily he melts into your embrace. How readily he buries his face in the crook of your neck as if it was the most natural place for him to rest his head. How he completely trusts you to hold him and everything that he is carrying in his heart.

How so much of his pain and despair has turned into trust and love.

And maybe. Maybe it really is going to be okay.

#marc spector #moon knight #oscar isaac #marc spector x reader #marc x reader #marc spector x you #reader insert #fanfiction #chrissie tries to write #chrissie gifs #tw: pregnancy #tw: children #tw: parenthood #tw: trauma

[alwritey-aphrodite]

one

Chapter 1 of I’ll Be Back Again To Stay

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Santiago Garcia x single mom!reader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: parenthood/kids, if that isn’t your thing

Author’s Note: Santiago is quite literally not even mentioned in this chapter… I had to set it up, ok? He’ll be here, don’t worry

The blaring of your phone wakes you up: it seems like no matter which alarm sound you use, it always yanks you aggressively from your slumber. You can feel a chill, even through all of your blankets, and a glance through your curtain gap shows you snow falling, powdery and fat.

Reluctantly, you get out of bed and start your day. It’s earlier than you’d normally wake up, and you’re especially exhausted with how late you had to stay up packing, and then it was practically impossible for you to fall asleep with your brain running through all of the worst case scenarios.

A glance at your weather app tells you the flurries should be stopping within the hour, and you feel like you can breathe a little easier. The last thing you need right now is getting your flight delayed.

You hurry through your morning routine to pack up the rest of your toiletries, and then move on to packing up your carryon, crossing things off your list as you go. As soon as you feel decently prepared, you go wake up Inez.

In her five years of existence, Inez has never been one to wake up before she’s ready. She’d sleep in till noon if she feels like it, and if you wake her up a minute sooner, you’ll be dealing with a grumpy kindergartener. So, you know the only way she’ll get out of bed and ready to go is if you bribe her.

“C’mon, baby, we can’t be late to see Aunt Sydney.” It’s been at least five minutes, and she still has a death grip on her blankets, her head completely covered.

“She can wait.” You really were raising a stubborn little girl.

Most of the time, she was well behaved, but she always had a little bit of sass. During parent-teacher conferences, Inez’s kindergarten teacher had told you she was “a leader”, which really meant that she wouldn’t let the other kids tell her what to do.

Which was fine by you. All that mattered was that she listened to you and her teachers, and always used her manners. You know for a fact that there are other kids in that class that are far bossier than she is.

Now, though, she’s letting all that stubbornness shine through.

“I’ll let you pick out any donut you want at the airport. And watch movies on my phone.”

“Deal,” she responds, springing out of bed, making a grin bloom on your face.

She didn’t know that was your plan all along. Sometimes, she just needed to feel like she was making the rules, and that’s fine by you.

You help her brush her teeth and pick out her outfit, letting her get dressed while you pack up her toiletries, along with the stuffed animals she’s picked out. She can’t sleep without at least three, and when you left her unsupervised with the luggage last night, she had tried to stuff ten of them inside.

You do one last double check of all of your luggage, before bundling Inez up in her winter jacket. Naturally, she complained about it, so you told her she could take it off once you got to the airport. You already had a lighter jacket for her in your carryon, knowing she’d get cold as soon as you got to security and the suitcases were checked.

Still, she was a little pouty, and understandably so. You woke her up early to bustle her off to some place she’s never been. It’s her first time in an airplane, and she’s a little bit nervous, even though she claims she’s not.

But, surprisingly, the terrifying horse outside of the Denver airport seems to cheer her up.

“Momma! Look at that scary horsie!” Her face is all pressed up against the window, but she still has a giant grin on her face.

While Inez was mostly a pleasant kid, wrangling her and two large suitcases was nothing short of a miracle. Lucky for you, there was no line at the check-in desk, and the worker seemed charmed by all that Inez had to share, even giving her a sticker which she immediately stuck to the front of her t-shirt.

Someone out there must be looking out for you, because there was barely any line at security either. So far, the day has been smooth sailing. You just hope that Inez keeps her good mood and high spirits throughout the flight.

After making it through security, finding a donut for Inez, and figuring out where your gate was, you still had plenty of time before your flight. You shoot Sydney a text that says 30 minutes til boarding! and she quickly responds with a bunch of cheering emojis.

When you look up from your phone, you have to stifle a laugh at Inez, who somehow managed to smear frosting up onto her forehead, in addition to the ring around her mouth.

“Will Santa bring me presents at Auntie Syd’s house?” Inez asks you as you do your best to wipe all of the frosting off her face.

“Of course he will.”

“Good, because otherwise we should stay here.”

Inez absolutely adored Sydney, who had been your best friend all throughout college. She’s had your back through everything, all the ups and downs, she was your entire support system most of your pregnancy. She even lived with you for the first few months of Inez’s life, and the two of them continue to have a strong bond, even now that Syd lives in a different state.

Sydney had to move to North Carolina for work two years ago, and had always come back to spend the holidays with you and Inez, who Sydney lovingly called Squish, a nickname born only shortly after Inez, because she was such a chunky little baby.

This year, though, Syd had invited you and Inez to spend the holidays with her and her now long-term boyfriend, Will. You’d been hesitant at first, terrified of intruding and making what should be a happy time awkward, but Sydney had insisted and Will promised it would be no trouble at all.

You’d only met Will one time before, when he flew out with Sydney for Inez’s birthday back in May. He was a sweet guy and nothing short of a gentleman, indulging Inez in any game she wanted to play. He arm-wrestled with her and let her win every time, played tag and hide-and-go-seek with her, and let her hang off of him like a little spider monkey, all without complaint.

So you agreed to spend the holidays with them, along with a few extra weeks. It really was a win-win scenario: you were able to work from anywhere, and Inez was only in kindergarten, so she can miss more school without it being completely detrimental to her. And you get to spend time with one of your favorite people ever. So really, a win-win-win.

You don’t have a long time to get settled before they’re calling you for boarding, so you juggle Inez and your backpack and the tickets and make your way onto the plane. Everyone seems enthralled by Inez this morning, and you can’t help but smile at her interaction with the flight attendant that’s helping with boarding.

And she gets to add another airline sticker to her t-shirt.

Lucky for you, it’s not a full flight, so you and Inez get a whole row to yourself. She claims the window seat and demands you sit in the middle, so you oblige her, because her peace of mind is more important to you than how physically comfortable you are.

She looks out at the snow covered ground as the plane takes off, and then promptly forgets about the window for the rest of the flight. You’d been worried about her getting bored, so you packed her coloring books and crayons, picture books, even activity sheets you’d printed out.

But, it seems she had no interest in those or the movies you’d downloaded onto your phone for her. Instead, she cuddled up with Blob the Monkey, and then in some impressive contortionist impression, she practically sits herself in your lap and falls asleep with her head on your chest.

You’re glad you decided to throw your book into your carry-on at the last minute, because Inez is down for the count. You manage to reach it without jostling her around too much, and you thank your lucky stars that she doesn’t wake up.

You spend the rest of the flight reading and rubbing small circles onto Inez’s back, trying to keep her asleep for as long as possible. With waking her up early for a big travel day and the next few weeks being full of excitement, you knew she needed every second of sleep she could get.

Three hours later, the plane finally lands, and Inez wakes up from her nap. You’re amazed at the fact that she doesn’t have a single sore spot in her body from the way she was sleeping, and is more energetic than you’ve ever seen her.

You shoot Sydney a text to let her know that you’ve landed, and that you’ll probably be ready for her to pick you up in 45 minutes. You had told her that it would be just as easy to rent a car, but she had insisted on picking you up. You didn’t mind, because it was less work for you, but Sydney was almost always late.

You exit the plane, hanging onto Inez’s hand as tight as possible while you try to maneuver your way to baggage claim, where Sydney promised to meet you. You can tell Inez is getting antsy with the way she pulls against your hand. She’s so excited she’s practically vibrating.

And, to your surprise, Will and Sydney are waiting for you when you enter the baggage claim area. When she notices, Inez slips out of your hold and sprints over to them, right into Sydney’s arms.

While Sydney squeezes Inez as if she’ll never see her again, you pull Will into a hug of your own. You’d only met him the one other time, but he really was a great guy and you were just counting down the days until the two of them got married.

When they came to visit last time, you’d told them, “Better make it quick, Inez is at prime flower girl age.” You’d been joking, but not really.

Sydney was your family, and Will wouldn’t be a terrible addition.

Once Inez is released from Syd’s grip, you’re the one being pulled into a bone-crushing hug. Even though the two of you talk to each other every day, it’s really not the same as seeing each other in person. You’d take her crushing your ribs over not seeing her any day.

“I’m surprised you were here on time,” you say as the four of you make your way over to the baggage carousel, Inez seated on Will’s shoulders.

“That’s because of him,” Sydney responds, “I was going to keep you waiting.”

“Well, thank god for Will.” That earns you a chuckle from the man in question, who hauls Inez off his shoulders to pull your suitcases from the carousel, despite your insistence that you could do it. You really didn’t mind, you just didn’t want Will to feel like he had to help you.

But, from what Sydney told you, he likes to feel needed, to feel helpful, and if that means he hauls your heavy suitcases and carries around your daughter, you really don’t mind.

There’s a definite chill when you finally step outside to make your way to Sydney’s car, but it’s nowhere near as bad as back home, where it’s been regularly below freezing since Thanksgiving. Here, you definitely need a jacket, but it’s not so cold that you feel like you’ll get frostbite the second you step outside.

The drive back to Sydney’s house is relatively short, but still long enough for Inez to sing along to the holiday songs playing on the radio. You haven’t been to her house since you helped her move in two years ago, but it looks just as cozy as you remember it.

It’s two stories, and painted a deep navy on the outside, with a red door that Inez had demanded was included, to match your door back home. Syd, of course, indulged her.

When you enter, bags and Inez in tow, you take in all of the changes Sydney and Will have made since you last visited. It looks different, but it still feels like home.

And, the picture of you and Sydney with newborn Inez is still in the spot of honor on her mantle. If she sees you tear up when you spot it, she doesn’t mention it.

The holidays are always a highly emotional time, both for positive and negative feelings. And spending them alone, or practically alone, only amplifies that. So, you’re eternally grateful to Sydney and Will for inviting you to stay with them.

Logically, you know you aren’t an imposition, and that Syd has been itching to spend more time with you and Inez, but it still feels like they’ve made some sort of huge sacrifice in including you.

Really, it wasn’t as if you had any crazy holiday plans. Christmas Eve was going to be spent with Sydney while Will visits with his buddies, and then Christmas Day has you and Inez relaxing on your own when Syd and Will spend the day with his family.

So really, no sacrifices are being made, except of their guest bedroom.

Since they only have the one room with the one bed, you’re sharing with Inez, which wouldn’t be an issue if she wasn’t a sleep-kicker. You’ve ended up punched in the face more times than you can count.

After a simple lunch, you spend the rest of the afternoon unpacking and settling in, actually putting your clothes away in the closet and dresser, something you wouldn’t have done if you weren’t at your best friend's house and if you weren’t staying for almost a month.

The hours pass by with you and Sydney catching up, making up for all of the times that texting or FaceTime just weren’t enough. Inez and Will have more arm-wrestling matches than you can count. Honestly, you’re amazed at how well he interacts with her, possessing a patience you don’t often see outside of parents.

Following your quick dinner of delivery pizza, Inez is bathed and put to bed early to make up for the time difference and the early start to her day. And, luckily, she practically passes out as soon as her head hits the pillow, barely staying awake for the entirety of her bedtime story.

Now, you find yourself settled on the couch, wrapped in a cocoon of fuzzy blankets and warm lamp light, the cheesy Hallmark movie playing quietly on the TV only adding to the cozy atmosphere.

“So… we have something to ask you,” Sydney starts, breaking the almost silence that had naturally settled over the living room.

“Yes, I will be your maid of honor.” Your comment earns you an eye roll from Syd and a swift but gentle kick to your outstretched leg from Will. You can’t help but to fall into a fit of laughter.

There’s nothing you love more than teasing your best friend.

“Haha, you’re hilarious.” Syd deadpans before continuing, “No, we wanted to talk to you about Christmas.”

“What about it?”

Sydney shifts to sit up, swinging her legs off the couch to turn her body towards you. Will hunches forward, leaning his elbows on his knees and his chin in her hands. Their body language screams we know you won’t like this.

“So, every year, Will and his buddies and his little brother all do this casual Christmas Eve thing, and Frankie’s daughter’s almost the same age as Inez, and we just thought-“

“Syd, slow down,” you cut her off, sitting up from your relaxed position on the couch, “you really aren’t making a lot of sense.”

“Maybe we all go? I think you’d love ‘em, they’re great, really.”

“I’m sure they’re amazing, but I’ve never met them. Wouldn’t it be weird to spend a holiday with a group of guys I’ve never met before?” While it’s not unusual for Sydney to have some out of the box ideas, you truly weren’t expecting whatever this is.

“We could all do something before? And you could get to know them.”

“And if you’re still not comfortable, we won’t push it anymore.” Will, ever the calming presence, adds.

“Fine,” you sigh, even though you aren’t really upset. Sure, you’re a little confused as to why Sydney suddenly thought it was a great idea for you to meet Will’s friends, but you could tell she had some sort of ulterior motive.

Before you call it quits around 10 PM, you spend the rest of your night idly chatting and tuning in and out of the awfully cheesy made-for-TV movie that Will seemed to love. And, as you snuggled up underneath your covers, trying not to wake Inez, you wonder why Syd was so insistent on changing your Christmas Eve plans.

Tags: @disabledameron @itspdameronthings @campingwiththecharmings @loonymagizoologist @stevenngrant @andromeda-dear @welcometostayingawake @outmodead

#santiago garcia #santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia x you #santiago pope garcia #santiago pope garica x reader #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #I’ll be back again to stay #tw: parenthood

[danjaley]

Well, Gulliver, one good thing came of the whole affair: I’ll get to spend my Sunday afternoons with you, while you’re still with me. Perhaps Miss Fraser is right – a nice family of freaks that would have been. What if all my children will look like me and they’ll all be mad at me when they don’t find husbands and wives of their own one day. Perhaps I’d be a horrible father. I never had any, and I don’t want to become like Grandfather. I’ll support my children, whatever they’ll want to do in life. Well, that’s easily said when I don’t have any. But I’ll tell you one thing, Gulliver: I won’t have the estate auctioned off. I’d sooner adopt someone. If find anyone for that.

#mccarric scenes season3 #mcc3 part3 #obviously that's not what Miss Fraser said #omitting the accent here for easier reading #tw: parenthood

[dcxdpdabbles]

de-aged Danny is one of my babies,

Shit hits the fan with the giw and Danny is super injured and Clockwork has to mess with some things so Danny doesn’t return to his core being vulnerable and sends him millions of miles away to Gotham and in the process Danny becomes 6/10 years old and is weeks healed due to being smaller and costing less ectoplasm but is still achy, Danny is steered to Jason’s apartment where he just got off his shift and then his is the twist! Jason is mute due to an accident with the joker and Batman (batman unintentionally causing his muteness) and out of reflex of a child on his counter hand first into a box of Cheerios let’s put a exasperated noise of flames and a lighter and Danny responds with his own spark of electricity and Jason is shocked (hehe) that Danny can understand and even communicate can he just lets out everything he’s been doing since “holy shit I can talk to someone normally” and then he realizes this child has the same scar as him and is pissed but Danny calms him down and calms the pits and he’s like “okay you’re mine now shit- I’m like Bruce- no. I’ll think about this later-“ Danny is super cute and Jason is having a field day with parent hood and Jason gives Danny a comm for when he goes out but he’s only allowed to speak in ghost speak and the rest are confused when Jason sprints away and they follow to see Danny in Jason’s arms being lulled to sleep with a man on the ground knocked out or dead who knows not Jason because it was shoot & punch and ask questions later and then Danny says sleepily “Oh your daddy’s brothers, hi” like it’s normal to meet family in this situation and Jason puts him to bed before signing “Say anything to Bruce and you will never be called uncle or attend his birthday in your life.”

Bruce only finds out when Jason some how ends up super injured and can’t sign and Danny translates (no editing just straight he said fucking hell) and introduces himself as Danny Todd, Bruce privately cried a little

The Waynes knew that Jason had become far more distant since his accident. Bruce blamed himself, but in the end, it was Joker all over again.

The family had been on other missions when a distress call from Bruce came in. They all raced to give aid- if it was Bruce calling, then you know it was a huge deal- only to find their father figure pressing his hands desperately to the neck of a bleeding Jason.

The Joker had sliced his neck in one of his sick games.

They were able to get him to medical aid and save his life, but the damage to his vocal cords had been too severe. Jason would never be able to speak again.

Since then, Jason has kept his distance. The whole family was fluent in sign language- one of the first of many languages Bruce had them learn for their Bat training- but it only helped them if Jason wanted to sign around them.

It felt like the second oldest was actively trying to avoid the acknowledgment of his injury. Little by little, Jason began to drift away from the family. He no longer arrived early for family dinners to help Alfred cook, he did not say for games or movies afterward, he found excuses to not hang out with the family members, and even after patrol, he left as soon as he finished.

Even texts were becoming less and less frequent. The Wayne children attempt to surprise visit him just so they can make sure he isn't alone until Jason starts jumping between safe houses.

Jason is isolating himself, and the Waynes are alarmed by the way he is retreating into himself. This continued for months, and nothing they did worked to help him.

Despite the desperate attempts to connect to him, Jason was too far gone to be reached. He did not die, but they lost him all the same.

Then, one day, out of the blue, Jason's distance changed. Yes, he was still not coming around the family much, but the sadness on his shoulders loosened.

His demeanor was still tired, but not as if his soul was exhausted. He still ran off after patrol, but instead of a shameful shuffle, his stride was more excited.

No one knew why, but Wyanes breathed a sigh of relief at the change.

They also had some theories.

"He has a lover!" Dick exclaims after watching Jason run off the second Bruce dismisses them. He had stopped to clean himself up a little before riding out as Jason, the civilian. "He's going to go get ready for a hot date."

"He found a new book series." Duke offered as Jason seemed to be writing in a little notebook. He was thoughtful and dazed as he wrote like whatever notes he took were something he would revisit again. "He is writing fanfiction again."

"His crime empire is being threatened, so he is slowly picking off traitors," Tim proposed after seeing Jason upgrade his security to his home and safe houses. He even added a new line to the cons so that he could listen to his home like a Bat version of a baby monitor. "Doing it quick and quietly to not let them escape."

"He is going back to school!" Steph announced happily when she saw him at the store buying school supplies. "He can finally get that diploma he has always wanted!"

"He has found a new passion for a hobby," Damian countered after seeing Jason look over his old art easel. Jason had asked Damian what he recommended for a beginner. "It's allowing him to have an outlet in a creative, healthy manner."

"He has fallen for a book character again and can't tell the difference between reality and Fiction." Bruce fretted after seeing Jason chuckle to himself at post-it notes that had little hearts in his lunch box. They were signed by Jason's favorite characters in a writing that was reasonably similar to Jason's.

Cass only smiled knowingly, but she always seemed to know more of what was happening than the rest, no matter the situation.

The only other person who knew more than her was Alfred, but that man would never share secrets with anyone for any reason.

Jason seemed unaware of their theories or concerns (Bruce) since he was always busy doing whatever he was doing. It got to the point they decided to follow him about, only becoming more confused when Jason visited places like pre-schools and kid-friendly parks around the city.

It didn't help that Jason caught on to the fact he was being followed, leading the Bats all over the city to random locations and had them fumbling about what was a natural destination and what was retaliation for the trailing.

Then, one night, while the Bats were meeting up on a rooftop for some briefing and a breather, the new con line sprung to life, scaring everyone connected to it out of their skins.

"There is a strange man in the house!" A voice screeched. A young voice, one that didn't even sound like it belonged to someone who had reached their double digits.

At once, Jason jumped from his slouched-over position near the building's roof door and flung himself over the edge. His grabbing hook hissed as the large man threw himself across the rooftops frantically.

Stunned, the Bats watched him go, unsure of what was happening, until the young voice spoke again, a soft whisper. "He is in the hall- he has a knife."

A strange crackle of fire and electricity was heard over the con, and it took them all a moment to realize that it had come from Jason. The child- a boy based on the voice- responded with a slight tremble. "I'm hiding in my closet. I'm scared."

The words of a distressed child kickstart their brains, and everyone snaps to attention.

"Oracle, where is the signal originating from?" Bruce snaps, throwing himself over the edge to follow Jason. The rest of the family is right behind him.

"Jason's safe house in Uptown Gotham," Babs responds instantly with the accompanying clicking of her keyboard. She sucks a breath through her teeth in a pained hiss. "B, the address for Jason's safe house... it's connected to Upper Smiles Preschool for Danny Todd. Jason is marked as his father."

There is ice in everyone's veins when she says that as Danny- Jason's son- lets out a choked sob, then a scream that horrifies everyone as they try to run faster. "He found me! Help! Help! Daddy! Help!"

A boom goes off across the communicator, and they know Jason is responsible for the nose, but there is no explosion. Not that it matters.

They, too, understand what Jason meant by the strange noise he made- it's a protective rage that someone would dare to even think of harming one of their own.

Every Wayne pushes themselves past their limits, unwilling to let themselves be too late.

"Hold on, sweetheart, help is on the way. Hit him with anything around you until it gets there." Babs tells him, her voice cracking as Danny cries, and a man yelling can be heard.

"You little shit!" An unknown roars, and everyone hates him instantly. "I'll teach you some fucking manners!"

"Let me go! Let me go!"

They are ten minutes out even when they drop into the batmobile and company bikes. Jason is only eight. But every second feels like a lifetime as they listen to what Danny is going through.

There are sounds of struggles, of a tiny voice screaming and crying, then- gunshots.

Two loud and clear gunshots. Then silence, the kind that makes even a grave loud.

Bruce's grip on the steering wheel tightens to the point of pain, and everyone is in no better state. The silence over the con is just as devastating as Jason's mournful crackle, like a dying fire.

No. No gods, no, please don't let this mean Danny is-

"Not to worry, dear child, I am here." Alfred's warm, soothing voice is heard, and everyone almost collapses in relief. Danny's cries are muffled like his face is pressed against something as Alfred coos. "It's alright. It's alright, you're safe now. Shh"

Jason makes a sound similar to thunder.

"Yes, Master Jason, I was in the neighborhood. I wanted to bring my great-grandson a little present and saw this healthen mucking about where he does not belong. I shall be moving Danny to the manor."

It's a command that does not allow any arguing, but no one dares to say anything as they collectively change direction to the manor. Patrol for the night has been canceled.

They had a new little addition to the family that needed them more than ever. Now that they knew about him, they would never allow Jason to keep Danny away from them.

Later in the night, after hugs, kisses, and greetings, Danny is painting alongside Damian. He standing on a small stool to reach the easel, wearing an apron with the Batman symbol, and is smiling like there are no troubles in the world.

Everyone's heart melts when he asks them if they can sit still for him to paint a family portrait. He isn't Jason's by blood, but that has hardly mattered to a family such as the Waynes.

All they need to know is that Danny was found wandering around Jason's old safe house, speaking in the strange sounds that Jason could make, and was the cause for the second oldest to regain his joy of life.

All that mattered was that tiny, little six-year-old Danny Todd was one of theirs, and they would love him with all their hearts.

Master Post Link

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Red ParentHood #Danny is deaged #He doesn't have his memories of being a teen #Jason and Danny use Ghost Speak which is the sound related to their deaths to communicate #tw: child endangerment #tw: gun mention #Alfred once again the MVP #The Wayne's pov of Jason

[heich0e]

“Miya-san!”

Osamu’s head swivels towards the sound, and he spots you right away even though you weren't the one who called for him.

You’re a few metres down the road, sitting on a bench in front of a bustling restaurant, slumped over onto the shoulder of your junior who seems to be doing everything he can to keep your head tipped up against his arm. Kimura, the name Osamu had once been introduced to him as at one of the events your company held, has blushy cheeks when the older man approaches—he seems flushed due both to being flustered and a little tipsy, and the knot of his tie is loosened at the base of his throat.

“Kimura-kun,” Osamu greets him with a dip of his head as he approaches, his eyes scanning your seemingly sleeping face. “She asleep?”

“No,” you slur in reply, but your eyes stay closed. Osamu’s not certain it’s the truth, and even less certain you realize he’s the one who said it.

“I-it’s all my fault,” Kimura squeaks, looking increasingly like he might burst into tears. “They were trying to make me drink more, but Senpai kept switching out our glasses when the other section leads weren’t looking.”

“Yeah, that sounds like somethin’ she’d do,” Osamu replies with a fond but exasperated sigh.

“I’m sorry for contacting you so late,” Kimura says, flinching as you slump away from him unexpectedly in your drunken stupor. Osamu is quicker to react than the younger man, stepping in and catching you in the crook of his elbow before you can go toppling off the bench onto the sidewalk. He keeps you steady.

“Don’t apologize, I appreciate ya callin’ me to come get her—and thanks fer lookin’ after her,” he says down to the younger man, who seems relieved now not to be responsible for keeping you upright. “Tell her to bring ya by the shop for a meal sometime as payback. She owes ya one.”

Kimura’s eyes widen and he shakes his head like he couldn’t possibly accept, but before he can decline the offer Osamu turns his attention back to you. With an arm wrapped around your waist, he gently pries you from your seat.

“Up ya go,” he mutters encouragingly as he eases you onto your feet.

Your eyes flutter slowly open, looking around blearily for a moment as you take in your surroundings.

“Samu?” you ask, his name slurred on your alcohol loosened tongue. You perk up noticeably in his arms once you realize just who’s holding you. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to take ya home, Cinderella,” he says with a light laugh as your fingers twist into the material of his sweatshirt against his chest. He looks to Kimura again, who’s also risen to his feet now. “We’ll be off, then.”

“Thank you, Miya-san!” Kimura bows deeply forward, a nearly perfect 45 degree angle at his waist.

He’s a sweet kid, Osamu can’t help but think, even if does follow you around like a puppy.

Osamu helps you down the sidewalk towards his waiting truck, then up into your seat on the passenger’s side. He makes quick work of buckling you into your seatbelt even as you squirm counterproductively, then he jogs swiftly around to his own side of the truck and climbs in behind the wheel.

Kimura waves from outside the restaurant as the truck pulls away.

“Seems like ya had fun tonight,” Osamu remarks as he drives in the direction of your home. You hadn't even wanted to attend this work gathering, but had been forced to by your director. Now look where it had gotten you.

You’re fiddling with the controls of the radio, stations crackling in and out as you switch rapidly through the channels. 

“Drank too much,” you complain, settling on a talk radio station (of all things) that seems to be midway through discussing prefectural bylaws.

“Don’t I know it,” Osamu quips in reply and you swat at him harmlessly over the centre console with a laugh.

You’re turned in your seat, your body facing in his direction, watching him as he keeps his eyes on the road. He can feel your gaze tracing over him, but doesn’t glance back.

“Hey,” you whisper, something conspiratorial in your tone. “Wanna know a secret?”

“Sure thing,” he plays along with your antics, fighting back a grin.

It’s silent for a moment—only the voices on the radio discussing trash collection to be heard. Osamu pulls up to a red light, and finally looks over to meet your gaze.

Your eyes are glassy and a bit unfocused, but they’re bright with affection.

“I have a crush on you,” you tell him with a giggle.

Osamu’s chest pangs.

The light turns green.

“Well,” he remarks, returning his gaze to the road ahead and proceeding through the intersection. “That’s good.”

From the corner of his eye, he sees your shoulders slump dejectedly. 

“I’m being rejected,” your next words are positively morose. You turn away from him and lean your body over to the side. He hears a loud thump as your forehead head hits window on your right.

“Hey!” Osamu chides you in concern, reaching out and grabbing the collar of your blouse to tug you up a little straighter. It’s not the most elegant motion by any means, but he’s fairly limited with his other hand on the wheel and his eyes still on the road.

“Owww,” you complain, rubbing your forehead weakly. You bat the hand he has clutching the collar of your shirt away. “You’re so mean.”

“How’m I mean?” Osamu guffaws beside you.

“I just confessed my love for you, and all you had to say is ‘that’s good’!” You turn your body in your seat to waggle an unsteady but judgemental finger at him. “A woman’s heart is a precious, fragile thing, y’know!”

“There’s nothin’ fragile about ya,” Osamu mutters under his breath, thinking about how much you had to drink that night as a prime example of this fact. “Yer tough as a brick wall.”

“Mean!” you jeer at him again, your mouth agape in the wake of his words.

Osamu flicks his turn indicator on before he pulls his truck over to the curb, putting it into park. You’ve stopped outside a convenience store, and when he turns to look at you, the fluorescents from inside the shop bathe you in a backlit halo where you sit in the passenger seat.

He grabs your hand. The one you still have lifted to point at him.

“D’ya see this?” he asks, holding your hand up in front of your face. The ring on your fourth finger catches in the glow of the convenience store lights.

Your eyes widen.

Osamu holds up his left hand where there’s a ring that matches your own.

“I said it’s good y’got a crush on me ‘cause we’re married, dummy.”

Your lips form a surprised little ‘o’ as your eyes flicker rapidly from the band on your finger to his own and back again. 

After a moment you grin, your eyes squeezing shut with how high your cheeks lift. “What a relief!”

Osamu is quick inside the store, just popping in to buy a vitamin drink for you and a pack of cigarettes for himself. He doesn’t smoke as much these days—you’d nag him incessantly if he did—but every so often he gets a craving, and tonight is one of those instances. 

The two of you sit side by side on the curb in front of the shop, the truck parked a little ways down the road. 

Osamu takes a drag of his cigarette, sighing in contentment with wispy plumes of smoke slipping from his lips. He peeks over at you from the corner of his eye. 

“Ya feelin’ better?” he asks.

You’ve got the little bottle of vitamin drink cradled in your hands, working your way through it slowly. You hate the taste of them, he knows that, but you’d regret it more tomorrow morning if you didn’t force it down tonight. You nod a bit, and seem to have sobered up in the time since Osamu arrived to take you home.

“This reminds me of when we first started datin’” Osamu laughs to himself. And he means it. Everything about it. Being out so late. The taste of the tobacco on his tongue. The way you keep creeping a little bit closer to him unconsciously, as though his space isn’t already yours to freely take. “I can’t believe ya forgot we’re married.”

You groan in embarrassment. “I’m sorry.”

He bites back a grin, trying not to revel too much in your misery.

“And I’m sorry I made you come pick me up,” you mumble after a moment, taking another sip from the little bottle in your hand and wincing against the bitterness. “I planned to just take a cab.”

“It was that little junior of yours who contacted me,” Osamu laughs, lifting the cigarette to his lips and holding it there while he rifles in his pocket for his phone. He holds the device out so you can see the conversation where your subordinate had commandeered your phone, remorsefully messaging Osamu asking him to come and collect you from the bar. He’d even used a funny little sticker of a bunny with tears in his eyes bowing apologetically—it bears a striking resemblance to Kimura himself. 

“That kid,” you sigh, shaking your head lightly as you rub your temple. Your eyes suddenly widen and your face snaps towards your husband. “Wh—“

“Tsumu’s there watchin’ ‘em,” Osamu laughs, reaching up and plopping a hand down atop your head. “Not that there’s much to watch since they’re in bed. He was still at the house when Kimura-kun messaged me.”

You lean into Osamu's touch as you think of your twins at home, tucked up in the little bed they share, and it makes your heart ache a little bit. You wonder if you’ll be able to creep in and give them a kiss goodnight when you get home without waking them. 

You go terribly quiet for a moment, and Osamu finishes his cigarette. He stamps it out on the curb beside him and then slips the extinguished stub back into the pack to throw into an ashtray later.

“Samu?” you call to him, your voice quiet.

He glances over at you, and sees the way you’ve wrapped your arms around your knees. The anxious posture worries him.

“I didn’t forget you, I promise,” you whisper. “It’s just… sometimes I think this is all too good to be true.”

Your husband watches as you admire the ring on your finger that reflects the streetlight overhead.

Osamu smiles to himself, scooting closer to you on the curb.

“I know,” he reassures you, wrapping an arm around your waist and tucking you into his side. Your head naturally falls to his shoulder. Familiar and instinctive. “I was just teasin’ ya.”

You smell like alcohol. He’s sure he smells like cigarettes. You're in rumpled business casual, and he's dressed in the sweats he planned to wear to sleep. He reaches over and takes your left hand in his own—your wedding rings overlapping. And for a moment, in spite of all the ways the two of you have changed over the years and all the ways that life is different now, everything is exactly how it’s always been.

He tilts his face and presses a lingering kiss to your temple.

‘I’ve got a crush on ya too, by the way.”

#osamu x reader #miya osamu x reader #osamu miya x reader #hq drabble #hq writing #writing #tw alcohol #tw smoking #tw parenthood

[narumi-gens]

dreams aventurine x f!reader

18+ minors/blank/ageless blogs dni, 2.1 spoilers, pregnancy/parenthood

aventurine has never thought of himself as a man who dreams of the future, not beyond a certain point. but there's something about you that makes him doubt himself.

because when he looks at you, when he's near you, when he's inside you, he can't help himself. he thinks about what would happen if he didn't pull out and cum across your ass, your tits, or your stomach, painting your skin in white spurts like he usually does. he thinks about what would happen if he buried himself deep enough for you to feel him in your throat and spilled himself inside of you for once.

what if he didn't climb off of you as soon as he caught his breath. he thinks about what it would be like if he instead stayed there even as he softened, cradled between your thighs, while your arms wrapped around his trembling form to hold him close, your fingers gently running through his sweaty strands, your touch alone doing more to calm his mind than an orgasm ever could.

there are times when he allows himself to imagine beyond even that, but only in his weakest moments when he decides to spend the night, always under the pretense of the late hour, or the bad weather, or how comfortable the bed he bought you is. it's a pretense that you see through, but never challenge him on as you know that doing so would make him leave.

it's only once he's sure that you're deep asleep and he can turn his unguarded gaze to your features in the dark that he dares to let his mind wander beyond the bounds he normally sets. he imagines your stomach swelling as the months pass, of your hand grabbing his to press his palm to your belly to feel the fluttering of new life from within.

he imagines a small bundle pressed to your bare chest, skin-to-skin. you're crying, but so is the newly born infant that you hold so dear. so is he. sometimes, the sunlight shines through the windows of the hospital room, and other times the rain is deafening against the glass.

likewise, sometimes when the baby in your arms opens their eyes to take in the world for the first time, their color mirrors yours. but more often than not, it's his own pink and blue irises looking back at him, promising a life of good luck.

he imagines the feeling of a small palm pressed flat against his own much bigger one, as a young, tiny voice stumbles over the words he tries to guide them through.

he pictures the smile on your face, both adoring and soft, as you watch with tear-filled eyes as he teaches your child the blessing of their people.

as long as you are alive, the blood of the avgin will never run dry.

no matter how many years have passed since he was taken from sigonia in chains, he'll never forget his sister's final words to him. but when he looks at you, when he's near you, when he's inside you, they feel like more than just a memory.

it feels like she's speaking to him across the years, to him now, trying to guide him towards this single future with you instead of any of the infinite other futures he bets everything on.

maybe, if he chose to listen to her, there could be another avgin for gaiathra to bless. maybe, if he ever chose to give in to his weakness, to your warmth, to your softness, to your love, the avgin wouldn't have to live and die with him.

#I AM A MESS AFTER FINISHING 2.1 #literally wrote down that line about the blood of the avgin for future use as soon as it came up in game #this is the future use #tw parenthood #tw pregnancy #aventurine x reader #aventurine angst #aventurine drabble #hsr x reader #hsr angst #hsr drabble #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail angst #honkai star rail drabble #mel writes

[babybluebex]

𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐭 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you meet steve and nancy’s new baby and can’t help but notice eddie acting strange. once you finally get the truth out of him— that he wants a baby with you— you can’t help but share the fantasy. 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: eddie munson (stranger things) x fem!reader 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: SMUT (minors dni), cream pie, praise kink, breeding kink, slight degradation kink, use of “mama” and “daddy” (not sexually, though), baby content, i named steve and nancy’s baby amelia bc why not 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5k 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: inspired by and beta’d by @cherrycordial98, thank you bobbie for giving me this tasty rotisserie chicken hehe

“Aw, Stevie!” you cooed. “She’s so beautiful!”

The baby in your arms cooed back at you and sputtered her pert little pink lips, and you smiled widely. It had been several weeks since Steve and Nancy had their first baby— Nugget, as they called her before she was born, and has since been named Amelia— but you never had been able to meet her until then. She truly was a beautiful little baby, fat pink cheeks and wispy dark hair and her father’s big brown eyes, and you pouted playfully as you laid a gentle kiss on her forehead. 

“She looks like her mom,” Steve said, and Nancy rolled her eyes. 

“With those eyes, she looks more like you,” Nancy told Steve, and baby Amelia grabbed at your pinkie with her tiny little hand. 

“She’s definitely got Daddy’s hair,” you chuckled. You looked over beside you, to Eddie, and you laughed as you saw him on the far end of the couch, seemingly cowering from the baby. You had, in his defense, dragged him here against his will and forced him to interact with Amelia, and it was no surprise to you that he didn’t want to hold her. Eddie was weird around kids to begin with, and babies were definitely not his forté, but he was acting especially weird about Amelia. You wanted to ask him about it, but you also didn’t want to do it in front of Steve and Nancy, so you made a mental note to ask later.

“Ed, you wanna say hi?” Steve asked, and Eddie’s wide eyes locked onto you and Amelia. 

“I’m good,” Eddie chirped sharply, and Nancy rolled her eyes. “I-I can appreciate her from over here.” 

“She’s not gonna puke on you or anything,” you told your boyfriend with a laugh. “She’s just the sweetest little thing. Aren’t you, little girl? Aren’t you the sweetest thing?” 

Amelia cooed again, a cute smile on her face, and her grip tightened on your pinkie. 

“Holy shit,” you laughed, lightly tugging your hand away. “She’s got some grip strength, doesn’t she?” 

“Yeah!” Steve chuckled. “She’s so much stronger than I thought babies could be. But she’s so cute, so it’s fine if she crushes my finger.” 

“She’s adorable,” you nodded, and you looked at Eddie again. He was still watching you and Amelia closely, his owlish eyes open fully and unblinking, and you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. “You okay, Eds?”

“Fine,” Eddie answered quickly. “Um, Steve, bathroom?” 

“Down the hall, man,” Steve said slowly, jerking his thumb in the direction of said hallway, and Eddie was quick to stand up and escape, the chain on his jeans jingling as he walked. You and Steve and Nancy all waited until you heard the door close, and Nancy looked at you with confusion etched all over her face. 

“What the hell was that?” she asked. 

You shrugged, bouncing Amelia lightly in your arms as she gurgled. “I have no idea,” you said softly. “Eddie’s not too into kids and stuff, but I’ve never seen him like this.” 

“You don’t think it has anything to do with us?” Steve asked. 

“I don’t think so,” you replied. “I mean, you’re his best friend, and Nancy’s mine; I don’t think it has anything to do with it being your baby. I mean, anything bad. Maybe he’s like ‘oh shit, our friends have a baby’.”

“Does Eddie want kids?” Nancy asked, and you sighed heavily.

“I don’t know,” you said. “We haven’t really talked about it. I always assumed no, just because he typically doesn’t like kids, but… I have no idea. Maybe he does, and he’s having, like, a revelation crisis in your bathroom.” 

Nancy stepped closer to you and scooped Amelia into her arms, and you rubbed your palms nervously on your knees. “Should I go talk to him?” you asked. 

“Might be worth a shot,” Steve shrugged. 

You watched Nancy and baby Amelia for a moment more before you stood up, and you carefully moved down the hallway to the closed bathroom door. It was quiet on the other side of the door, practically no sign of Eddie, and you sighed and placed your palm flat against the door. “Eds?” you said gently. “Everything okay in there?” 

It was quiet for a moment, then Eddie’s voice floated from the other side. “Yeah,” he said, but you knew better. 

“What’s wrong, Eddie?” you asked. “Baby, whatever it is, you can tell me.” 

More silence. Then: “Nothing’s wrong. I just can’t tell you here. Or now. Wait until we get home, then I’ll tell you.” 

“I—” you started. “Eddie, sweetheart, are you feeling okay?” 

“I feel…” Eddie started. “Weird. I’ll tell you later, when Steve and Nancy aren’t around with that baby.” 

“Well…” you started. “Steve and Nancy aren’t here right now. Could you maybe tell me now? I’m just worried about you, sweetheart.”

It was quiet for a long moment, but then the door creaked open an inch to show a sliver of Eddie’s body. He was quiet as he gestured for you to come into the bathroom with him, and you stepped inside quickly. Eddie sighed heavily once the door shut, and he hoisted himself to sit on the counter again. “Alright,” he said. “So, yeah, I’m not a huge fan of kids. Babies. The whole thing scares me. I don’t know why, but kids really make me nervous. I guess, like, because I don’t know how to act with them.”

“Well, Eds, that’s totally okay,” you told him. “Not everyone is good with kids, and just because you’re a little anxious around Amelia doesn’t mean you’re a bad person.”

“That’s not all,” Eddie said quickly. Obviously it wasn’t; his face was turning pink, his ears tinting vermillion, and you knew that he had more to say. “I would’ve held her. I wanted to hold her, but I couldn’t…”

“Why not?” you asked.

“Because I wanted to keep watching you hold her,” Eddie said. He took a deep breath then, and he added, “You were so good with her, and you looked so… I can’t explain it, but you looked beautiful holding that baby. It got me thinking about what would happen if we had a baby…”

Your heart rammed itself up into your throat, and you mumbled, “Oh. Eddie—”

“I know we haven’t really talked about that,” Eddie interjected, his brown eyes widening. “And, like, I never really thought about it until right now, but I think… I don’t know, this would totally be on you, because, duh, but I think I might want a baby with you.” 

That shocked you silent. You grappled for words as you tried to make sense of what Eddie was telling you, and you finally uttered, “Really? Like, really?”

“I know it seems stupid,” Eddie mumbled, his gaze falling down into his lap. He kicked his feet a little as you watched him similarly fight for the words to express his thoughts, and he muttered out, “And, like, maybe it is. But just seeing you with Steve’s baby, seeing you be so good with her, it… I don’t know. My chest felt all funny and it was hard to breathe. I couldn’t help but imagine that being our baby that you were holding and kissing and loving-on. And I got… It’s dumb. I got a little turned on thinking about it.”

“Eds,” you said softly. “None of that is dumb or stupid. That’s— That’s sweet. Do you want kids, or do you just like seeing me with a baby?”

“I think I want kids with you,” Eddie said. “I mean, think about it. A tiny little baby, my eyes and your nose, cooing so sweet in your arms. Just like Amelia, but she’s ours. She’s a product of our love. Doesn’t that sound so… I don’t know… Right?” 

“It does,” you said. “But, Eddie, I don’t know, this seems really sudden.”

“Well, I mean, I only figured out that this is something I want, like, five minutes ago,” Eddie chuckled lightly. “This is sudden for me too. But, umm… What’re your thoughts here?”

You leaned against the counter next to Eddie, digging your fingernails into your thighs, and he started, “I… I won’t lie, it seems like a really bad idea. I mean… Eddie, we’re so young—”

“Not anymore than Steve and Nancy,” Eddie argued. 

“And we haven’t been together for nearly as long as Steve and Nancy have,” you added. “It just seems so… Quick. Are you sure?”

“I love you,” Eddie uttered, lifting his head from looking at his lap to look at you. “And just because I say I want kids doesn’t mean we have to start on it now. Like, maybe it can be one of those ‘someday’ things. Like, y’know, someday we’ll have a baby.” 

You chewed your lip as you thought about it, collecting everything that was floating around your mind, and you finally said, “Would it be so bad if we did start now?” 

Eddie looked at you with his eyebrows raised in surprise. “What’re you saying?” 

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. It was your turn to anxiously look at your lap, and you picked at a thread on your sweater as you muttered, “I mean, you make a lot of good points. Maybe a baby would be… I don’t know, there’s so much that makes me wanna say no, but there’s one thing that makes me wanna say yes, and it, like, feels so much more important than everything telling me no.”

“What is it?” Eddie asked. He jumped off of the counter and turned to you, and he gently spread your knees to slot his body between your thighs. His hands skated up your warm legs to your waist, and he held you close as he whispered, “Tell me, baby, what’re you thinking about?” 

“I’m thinking about you holding a baby,” you said softly. “Our baby. A little baby with your everything, hair and eyes and laugh. It’s kinda driving me crazy now that I’ve thought about it.”

“Now you see what I mean,” Eddie said with a smile. “You wanna try for a baby?”

You sighed heavily. “Maybe,” you said. “We can certainly practice, but I think I need a little more time to really be certain.” 

“That’s good enough for me,” Eddie said, and he leaned forward and kissed you. His mouth was warm as his lips moved over yours, and he tilted his head to deepen the kiss as he pulled your hips closer to his. 

Before you could sling your arms around Eddie’s neck and pull him closer, there was a solid knock from the other side of the door. “You two alright in there?” Steve called through the door. “You’ve been talking for a while.” 

“We’re fine,” Eddie replied. “We’re making a baby in here.”

“Eddie!” you gasped, and you lightly hit his chest as he grinned at you. “We’re not doing that! We’re just talking, we’ll be out in a minute.” 

Eddie chuckled lightly and buried his face in your neck, and he whispered, “I think I wanna go hold that baby.” 

You left the bathroom with Eddie’s hand in yours, and, when he reentered the living room, where Nancy held Amelia, he had a spring in his step that he hadn’t had when he left. “Hey, Nance,” he said. “Can I hold her?” 

It was a sight that you had never thought that you would see. Eddie sat on the couch and held his arms out for Amelia, and Nancy carefully transferred her small daughter into Eddie’s leather-clad arms. Amelia seemed sleepy, her little eyes sticking when she blinked, and she looked lazily up at Eddie as he grinned like a madman. “Look, babe,” Eddie chuckled as Amelia warmed to him instantly, nestling herself deep into her blanket and letting out a soft coo. “I’m holding a baby. I’m doing it.” 

“I’m proud of you,” you giggled, and Eddie lightly bounced Amelia as he smiled down at her. 

“She’s really pretty,” Eddie said, looking up at Steve for a moment. “Gonna have to get that bat out and fight off the boys when she’s older.” 

“I hope not,” Steve laughed. “That bat’s retired. Nancy can be cleaning her guns when boys try to come over.” 

“Hell yeah,” Eddie snickered, and Amelia reached a fat baby fist up and grappled with the guitar pick necklace he had around his neck. “Oh, you like this? Think you want Uncle Eddie to teach you guitar?” 

“Uncle Eddie,” you repeated. “That’s scary. You’ll be such a bad influence.” 

“Just as I plan to be,” Eddie grinned, watching Amelia. “I’ll show her metal music and horror movies and we’ll play D&D every night.” 

“Oh, God,” Nancy laughed. “My poor daughter.” 

“Nah, not really,” Eddie said, and your heart exploded when he leaned down and kissed her forehead. It was the most perfect sight, and you grinned at him. “I’ll treat her like the princess she is.” 

The drive home was fairly quiet, Eddie’s hand resting on your thigh as he drove, tapping his fingers along with the radio. He didn’t speak, obviously thinking hard about something, and he finally spoke as he pulled the van up into the small space next to the trailer. “So…” he started. “How do you feel?” 

“I feel like I want a baby,” you said simply. “There’s a million reasons not to, but the only reason I need is that I love you.”

“I’ll be the best fucking father to our kid,” Eddie told you, his grip tightening on your thigh. His eyes were serious and dark, and you took his hand into yours “I won’t ever make you regret it.” 

“Let’s do it,” you said, and you took a deep breath. “Let’s have a baby.”

Eddie got you into the trailer in a flash, pushing you against the kitchen counter in an instant and caging you in with his arms. He kissed you softly at first, his lips moving nicely against yours as his arms came to wrap around your middle, but he didn’t waste time to tilt his head and deepen the kiss. “Fuck, baby,” Eddie whispered as his hands slotted into your back pockets.

“Eddie,” you moaned. You pressed forward into him, chasing his kiss, and you whined softly when he pulled away. Eddie licked his lips and smiled at you, and he squeezed your ass as he chuckled. 

“Desperate, huh?” he laughed. “You just want my baby so badly, don’t you?” 

“Want you,” you told him, and you leaned forward to meet his lips again. His hands rose from your ass to cradle your cheeks in his palms, and he breathed deeply through his nose as his tongue pressed between your lips. Your hands went to his belt and tugged him closer, right on top of you, and Eddie’s knee knocked your legs open so he could shove his thigh right up against your clothed cunt. 

“C’mere,” Eddie grunted. “To bed… I’m not getting you pregnant in the kitchen.” 

You hummed and playfully tugged on his belt buckle, starting to undo it, and you said, “What if I can’t wait?”

“God,” Eddie groaned, your hand slipping past his belt and into his jeans. “You’re such a little vixen, baby, fuck.”

Your hand was filled by Eddie’s cock in an instant, already half hard and throbbing, and you leaned forward and settled your lips on Eddie’s smooth neck as your hand started to palm him lazily, just giving him enough to get him worked up. “Eddie,” you moaned softly into his ear, gently nipping at his fleshy earlobe, and Eddie’s hands grabbed your hips tightly. His fingers mischievously itched up your shirt and squeezed your side, and you grinned as you sucked a mark just under his ear. “Fuck, Eddie, need this cock inside me.” 

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” Eddie sighed, and his eyes closed blissfully for a moment, enjoying your movements against his cock, before he took your wrist in his grip and tugged your hand out of his jeans. “But I’m not fucking you in the kitchen, not today. We’re gonna fuck in bed, okay?”

“Why?” you asked, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. “Why do you care?”

“Because I wanna treat you nicely if I’m about to get you pregnant,” Eddie laughed, and your cheeks grew aflamed at the reminder. “I don’t want the kind of fucking where I bend you over and spit on you and fuck you; I want to be nicer to you, more romantic and shit.”

“What if I like when you fuck me like that?” you asked. 

“I know you do,” Eddie told you. “But, please, baby, just for tonight. We can go back to our regular-type fucking, but I just need this tonight.”

You considered it, watching Eddie bite his lip as his eyes grew round and wide, and you finally said, “You’re cute when you beg.” 

Eddie playfully rolled his eyes, and he grabbed your hand and tugged you back to the private little bedroom in the back of the trailer. Eddie’s place was always messy, but you loved that about him, and you settled yourself in his bed without a moment’s hesitation. You were quick to whip off your shirt and toss it aside, and Eddie tsk-ed his tongue and took your hands in his. 

“Let me,” he told you. “Being all romantic and shit, remember?” 

“Right, right,” you hummed slowly, and you smiled at Eddie as he settled himself on his knees over you. He took down your jeans, littering kisses on your skin in his wake, and your tummy flipped when he tugged your jeans off all the way and discarded them off the side of the bed. His head was level with your cunt, and he smoothed his hands up the sides of your body as he kissed just above the waistline of your panties. 

“Right here, baby,” he whispered. “Right here’s where our baby’s gonna grow.” His fingers tangled in your panties and pulled them down, moving so slowly that you whimpered and shifted your hips, and Eddie lightly nipped at the skin of your hip. “Not very patient…” 

“S’hard to be,” you told him. “I just want you so bad.” 

Eddie tucked his hair behind his ear as he settled another kiss to your belly, and he said, “I want you too. Fuck, it’s taking everything in me not to just fuck you right now.” 

“Please, Eddie,” you whimpered. “Please, I just need you. Fuck being romantic, we can be romantic later.” 

“No, baby, no,” Eddie said quickly. “I want to do this right. At least once, I wanna be romantic and cute and shit. What if this is the time our baby’s conceived?”

“What if it happens two months from now during a quickie before work?” you countered. “Eds, I get where you’re coming from, but I’m horny now and I can’t wait.” 

Eddie sighed for a moment, and he said, “You’re right. Fuck, why’re you always right?” 

Your work responded in kind to his, taking down his jeans and ridding him of his shirt, and you put your hand on his chest to push him down to the bed. You tossed your leg over his waist and settled yourself in his lap, and his arms circled your waist as he rose up to kiss you deeply. You moaned softly at the taste of him, his hard cock straining against his boxers and pressing right into your bare cunt, and you rocked your hips forward to get some friction on your lonely clit. 

Eddie held you tightly, grabbing handfuls of your ass to guide you as you grinded up on him. His mouth claimed your greedily, sloppy and wet kisses that broke with soft sounds every time you pulled away to breathe, and Eddie abandoned your ass to tug at your bra. “Take this off…” he mumbled into your mouth as he undid the clasp, and, the moment that your tits were bared to him, his mouth redirected focus onto your pebbled nipple. 

“Fuck, Eds,” you moaned as he laved your nipple with his tongue. He sucked on it for a moment as his hands joined, squeezing your tits and rubbing them all over, and he dropped off and hummed lightly as he watched your chest heave with heavy breaths. 

“How’re you so fucking gorgeous?” Eddie whispered, and he dragged you back down into a heavy kiss. His mouth was blistering hot against yours, the taste of him heavy on your tongue, and his hands drifted up to lightly tug on your hair. “Mmm, I love you, baby.” 

“Need you,” you told him breathlessly, and you laughed lightly when Eddie licked his lips and attached himself back to your tit. 

“How do you need me, baby?” Eddie asked, licking over your nipple. “Tell me exactly how you need me.” 

“Need you inside me,” you uttered, your head falling back in pleasure. “Need you to give me your baby.” 

“Sounds hot, sweetheart,” Eddie said. When you lifted your head back up to look at him, his eyes were blown-out with lust, and you smiled at him gently. “C’mon, then; you want it so bad, get it.” 

You looked down at where your bodies connected, him still wearing his boxers, and you helped him shimmy them down his legs. He tossed them off the bed with a flick of his wrist, and the sight of his cock, red and hard and weeping, made your breath catch. “I love you,” you whispered, and Eddie laughed. 

“You sayin’ that to me or my dick?” Eddie chuckled, and you rolled your eyes. 

“You, obviously,” you said. “But I do love your cock.” 

“Good, you’d better,” Eddie said. “‘Cause I love your pussy— I mean, you.” 

You giggled as he gave you his lopsided grin, his mischievous grin, and you folded your arms around his neck, twirling a curl around your finger. “Can you please get inside me already?” you asked, and Eddie squeezed your tits one more time before he abandoned them in favor of grabbing his cock. 

“I’ve hardly prepped you,” Eddie mumbled as he stroked his cock, the tip of his tongue peeking out between his lips. “It’s gonna hurt.” 

“No, it won’t,” you assured him, leaning down and kissing him quickly. 

“Alright,” Eddie sang jokingly. “But if it stings and you need me to slow down, that’s too bad.” 

“Whatever,” you said as you rolled your eyes, and Eddie pressed the head of his cock into you before he grabbed your hips and helped you sink fully onto him. He was right— it stung something awful, the stretch of your pussy around his thick cock taking you off guard as always, and you sucked in a tight breath through your teeth as you wiggled your hips to regain comfort. 

“Oh, baby,” Eddie cooed, cradling the back of your head with his palm. “Does it hurt? Just like I fuckin’ said it would?” 

“Shut up,” you said as you slotted your lip between your teeth, and you slowly rocked your hips down as Eddie jerked his hips up into you. The slide of him against your slick walls was the most perfect pain, and you whimpered as he slowly started up a good rhythm of fucking you. “Eddie, fuck.” 

“I know, sweetheart,” Eddie huffed, his dull fingernails digging into your ass. He controlled the speed of him fucking you, rolling your hips forward to bury himself deeper inside you, and you moaned lowly at the pleasure that was blossoming in your lower belly. “You feel so fucking good.” 

“Fuck me harder,” you told him, and you tucked your face into his neck and began to slowly kiss his skin. “God, Eddie, fuck me.” 

Without a moment’s hesitation, Eddie hooked his hands under your thighs and manhandled you to the bed, your back hitting the mattress as you gave a quiet “Oof!”. Eddie was over you in a second, pressing your legs higher and further apart until your knees were situated by your ears, and he clenched his jaw as his thrusts became quicker, harder, sloppier. “Like this?” he huffed, holding your legs open as he pounded into you. The bed slammed against the wall with each thrust, and you laughed. 

“Yes!” you cried. “Fuck, just like this!” 

“My girl,” Eddie hummed as he fucked you, his strong hands on your thighs. His cock speared into you deep, his heavy balls slapping your sticky cunt, and you tossed your head back and moaned as Eddie’s hand left your leg in order to rub at your clit. A hot bolt of electricity ran up your legs and settled in your tummy at the feeling of his fingers roughly playing at your clit, pinching and circling and teasing you in the best way he could. “My good fuckin’ girl, love having your clit touched, huh?” 

“Eddie, fuck,” you whined. Your hands grappled in the bed sheets for any purchase, any way to keep yourself grounded, and your scrambling hand was quickly filled by Eddie’s ringed hand, holding your fingers tightly. 

“I fuckin’ love you,” Eddie hissed, your pussy throbbing and hugging him tight. “Fuckin’ love this pussy too…”

“Do you love me more than you love my pussy?” you asked with a breathy laugh, and Eddie squeezed your hand for a moment. 

“Of course I do,” he smiled. He fucked into you hard, the bed hitting the wall loudly, and you bit your lip as you laughed at him. “God, baby, thinkin’ about you getting all pregnant, having my baby…” His cock flexed inside you, the glide of him now easy and pleasurable, and he added, “It’s enough to make me come.” 

“Do it,” you teased him, and Eddie raised his eyebrows at you as he chuckled. “Fucking come inside me, give me your babies, Eddie.” 

“Love the way you say my name,” Eddie mumbled. “Can’t wait ‘til I can call you Mama.”

“And you’ll be Daddy,” you told him, and a flush invaded Eddie’s cheeks. “Just think about it, a little girl calling you Daddy, asking you to play dolls with her…”

“I’ll always play dolls with that little girl,” Eddie said. “Our own little nugget. God, I can’t wait.” 

Edide’s hand moved quicker on your clit, rubbing it furiously as his thrusts became faster, and he panted with exertion as he whispered, “You gettin’ close, babe? Daddy’s gonna make Mama come?”

The knot in your belly was growing tighter with every thrust Eddie gave you, his cock nestling into that spot inside you as he played with your clit and squeezed your hand. “Fuck, Eds,” you mewled, your back arching up into his body. “I love you, oh my God.”

“I love you too,” Eddie said. “C’mon, baby, you can come, come for me.” 

The sounds hitting the wall were intense, wet and sticky and so erotic, and you whined as you felt the knot grow tighter and the electricity more intense. The shocks were rocking your thighs, making you quiver in Eddie’s grip, and you finally mumbled, “M’gonna come…”

“Good girl,” Eddie said, his thrusts growing quicker. “Come for me, baby, you can do it.”

You could taste it on your tongue, and you tugged Eddie down into a kiss as you came undone. Your mouth fell open as you moaned and cried, and Eddie bit at your bottom lip as you gushed around his cock. “Fuck!” you cried, your whole body writhing, and you heard Eddie whisper “Yes, baby, just like that. God, you’re so fuckin’ beautiful like this.” 

“You close?” you whispered, your body still recovering from the white-hot orgasm, and Eddie nodded, his bangs falling into his face. 

“Gonna fill you up,” he said. “Gonna give you my baby, fuck, you’ll get all pregnant…” 

“Give me your baby, Eddie,” you breathed, dragging him down into another sloppy kiss. His spit covered your mouth, but you didn’t care, only caring about making him come. You squeezed his throbbing cock tight, and he moaned deep in his chest as, finally, you felt his heavy balls release, and he came. 

The hot ropes of cum filled you as he continued to fuck you through his own orgasm, and he shuddered out a moan that made his stomach flex as his thrusts slowed. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice raw and wrecked, and he readjusted himself on his hands as he carefully fucked you. 

“Baby, you can stop—” you began, but Eddie silenced you with a kiss. 

“Gotta make sure it takes,” he mumbled into your mouth.

You sighed and let your head fall back, and your thighs twitched with residual arousal as Eddie slowed and finally stopped, panting heavily. His upper lip and forehead were shining with sweat, his guitar pick necklace sticking to his sweaty chest, and he pulled out of you with a hiss before he fell onto his back beside you. The bed was small, but you made do, and you hugged Eddie close to you and nestled your head under his chin. 

“Think it’ll take?” you asked, and Eddie nodded. He smoothed his hand down your hair and he placed a kiss to your forehead, and his hand settled against the small of your back. 

“I hope so,” he said. “I can hardly wait to see.” 

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader smut #tw parenthood #eddie munson x reader #my writing

[lunelmia]

Alastor is new at being a dad, don't be too tough on him.

#radiosnake #egg boiz #hazbin hotel #sir pentious #alastor #alastor x sir pentious #parenthood #tw: creepy #just in case #personally I just find it funny PFPFFFHH

[purrsongs]

something about weird little girls and weird old women and raising kids and changelings

#art #comic #folklore #digital art #digital sketch #changeling #fae #faerie #fairy #mother #motherhood #parenthood #fantasy #fantasy art #fantasy comic #fae art #changelings #bug #bugs #tw bugs #tw insects

[uncanny-tranny]

I think this topic is underdiscussed in the trans community, so I'd like to talk about it.

It's okay for trans people to mourn that some of us don't have the option to have children the way we'd like to. It is okay if a trans woman mourns that she is unable to become pregnant, for example, and there is no reason to shame her for how she feels. Equally, I think it can be inappropriate to tell us that there are other options besides "traditional" means of conception, like adoption. We know that there are other options, and that isn't the point.

I go back and forth on if I even want to be a father, and in both mindsets, I mourn that I don't have all the options I want to have children. It sucks. It really, really sucks. And it's hard to accept that this isn't my fault or my body's fault. That's the hardest part for me. But whether or not it's hard to accept, it isn't my fault - it isn't your fault, either, if you feel the same ways I do. Our bodies and our selves aren't the problem. We are not broken because we don't have all the options we'd like.

No matter how you feel about this topic, just know... you aren't a problem or a burden. No matter what your journey looks like, happiness and fulfillment can be found, eventually.

#trans #transgender #lgbt #lgbtq #ftm #mtf #nonbinary #dysphoria tw #i kind of ignored my distress about this but i think it's irresponsible of me to do that to myself #because i deserve to express my greif and anger about this. i'm allowed to and it is healthy for me to do so #i brought up that example because far too often trans women* are shamed if they wished to bear children through pregnancy... #...asterisk because it isn't only trans women who have this wish but unfortunately i only have so many characters per tag #i'd probably adopt but the adoption process is far from perfect and some of the shit adoptees have opened up about is really upsetting #adoption can be beautiful but it isn't a perfect solution and it isn't always going to be perfect #this has just been on my mind and i really wanted to talk about it #parenthood in the trans community matters and i wish it were discussed more

[nerdpoe]

In the Shadow of Speculation Part 3

Part 1, Part 2, Ao3

The chapter TW blood tw broken bones tw description of a flashback abled verbiage tw self hatred tw (mild) forced parenthood equivalent (but in a ghost culture way.)

Ellie peeked at her older brother from behind her physics textbook.

Danny was surrounded by notes, a treatise on ancient magic’s uses in modern medicine spread out in front of him. He’d been studying it longer than she had, and showed no signs of stopping.

Frostbite had not only been delighted to teach Danny medicine, but he’d taken it so seriously that apparently, her older brother had involuntarily signed up for basically ghost college.

Ellie felt a thrill at being able to share the experience with him.

She knew it had bugged him, to miss out on going to college at the same time as his friends.

But!

She was now going to college at the same time as Danny! So it was up to her and whoever she chose to share the college experience with him!

She’d drag Danny to all the keggers! She just…had to find them first. The one’s without drugs, or the ending with a shoot-out thing.

“Ellie,” Danny interrupted her thoughts, and she realized she’d been staring directly into his eyes for a bit, “How about we take a break? I found a recipe for those cranberry-almond bread crisps things you like from Costco.”

Ellie felt her jaw drop.

There was a recipe for that?

Before she could pull herself together enough to answer, Danny was already laughing and standing up.

“It’s the first batch I’ve ever made, but you seem to like them enough to tell me if I did it wrong.”

Ellie quite literally tripped over her own feet following him to the kitchen, only to stare reverently at the tupperware he presented to her.

Then she dug in, of course, because her job was to taste test and she took that job very seriously.

The score was: perfect.

They weren’t exactly the same, but they were homemade, which made them better automatically.

Ellie sat on the counter and enjoyed her snack as Danny puttered around the kitchen, making actual lunch.

His big brother instincts hit hard when they hit, and it looked like Ellie was going to have some leftovers going home with her. Danny tended to…overcompensate.

Which was stupid, because his ages didn’t change him being her bro.

“…You know you’re my brother no matter what, right?” Ellie asked between mouthfuls of baked goods, “Like, I don’t care what age you are or what form you’re in; you’re my brother.”

Danny slowed down.

Then he started for the flour.

Ah, fuck. He was going to bake away his feelings again.

“Danny wait, please, I only have so much room in my pantry and fridge-“

~~~~~~

Alfred paused in front of the hallway mirror.

Mask firmly in place? Check. Amulet against scrying? Check. Special jacket meant to act as a talisman against offensive magic? Check.

He was as ready as he would ever be to enter the same room as the Justice League Dark.

The butler pushed the trolley into the elevator and began his descent.

He had to admit to himself, he was…curious. Normally, Master Bruce did not allow the Justice League Dark into the Cave.

It wasn’t his place, he knew that, but something quite serious must have happened for them to be allowed so close to Master Bruce’s home.

In fact, his employer hadn’t even had time to specify if it was the entire Justice League Dark or just a few people from it. Master Bruce had just dropped everything-quite literally-and made for the Cave.

The elevator made a soft chime as it reached it’s destination, and the door opened.

Alfred pushed out the trolley, completely silent.

It was meant for the cave; cushioned wheels, rubber padding to absorb the little bumps.

Which meant that Constantine had absolutely no idea Alfred was standing behind him, waiting for him to stop talking so he could offer refreshments.

“Bats, you don’t bloody understand; our entire dimension was nearly wiped out!”

“I would love to understand. You won’t explain. A text message saying the world was about to end was not explaining, it was fear-mongering. This entire conversation could have been an email.”

Constantine threw his hands up.

“Phantom was holdin’ the Infinite Realms back! An entire dimension, Batman! It’s denizens are built for combat, and if Phantom decides to turn from small-time villain theft to Actual World Ending events, that’s it! End game! Is that email material for you?”

Master Bruce grunted.

“Five years ago, mate, five bleedin’ years ago your government nearly buggered all of us. So yeah, alright, allow me to explain; how did this slip by you? You? The great Detective?”

“We were unaware-“

“Mate I cannot begin to explain how little that matters to spirits and demons strong enough to be gods.”

“Constantine, we are taking measures to ensure this does not happen again.”

“We need to do more than that, Bats; I’m sayin’ we need to…to do something to get their trust! Get on Phantom’s good side, turn ‘em to the side of good, whatever it-“

“Phantom is on the Justice League Roster, Constantine. He’s on the list of potential allies in emergencies, and we have already established a good relationship with him. He’s not actually a villain, he’s a trainer for young heroes. You would know this if you kept up with that list.”

The ‘like you’re supposed to’ went unsaid.

Constantine opened his mouth. Closed it. Pulled out his phone and frantically pulled something up.

Dropped the phone.

Stood there staring at his own hand as he processed what he realized everyone had known but him.

Alfred took advantage of his distraction to place a cup of tea into the man’s hand.

“Perhaps you should sit down, sir,” the Butler suggested.

Constantine drank the entire cup of tea in one go and sat on the floor.

~~~~~~

Dan crossed his arms and stood his ground, careful to keep his face blank as he stared at Danny.

“You know you can’t do this in human form,” Dan sighed, “So the costume needs to be for the ghost one.”

“I think I can do great in human form-“

“It’s not healthy to keep your other state of being locked away, Runt. Plus, it’ll make it a hell of a lot harder to pinpoint who you are.”

“…I don’t want to.”

Dan felt steam hiss out of his nostrils, and tried to reign in his temper.

Ellie stepped in while he calmed down.

“C’mon, Danny! Please? Please, please, please? It’s super cute c’mon!”

Danny’s face turned red as he tried to deny that, covering his face as he sank down on the couch.

Dan carefully did not mention that Ellie was…kinda right. Dan was possibly biased due to fucked up ghost instinct, though.

“Danny,” Dan said quietly, “Robin was thirteen when I squared off against him, and he was really the only threat out of all those kid heroes. It’s fine; no one will bat an eye.”

This was important. The little Twerp would get more to feed his obsession if he was in ghost form while he did it, and it would give him time to actually be in his other form.

Both things he’d been trying to avoid.

But Dan was, as usual, willing to be the Bad Guy for Little Him.

Danny’s face grew redder.

The kid sighed.

A flash of light filled the room.

And a twelve year old looking ghost kid in a hospital shift sat in his place. The prosthetic, meant for an adult man, flopped to the side, unable to stay on the leg far too small for it.

Ellie made a soft, cooing trill and started patting at his hair.

Dan bravely held his own chirp in.

Danny, for his part, glared at his hands.

“Alright kid, let’s get you suited up,” Dan said after composing himself, instinct screaming at him to coddle the Twerp.

He wouldn’t do that, naturally.

It wasn’t like Danny was actually his kid, and neither of them would know how to recover from a lapse like that.

He turned away from the pouting kid on the cough and went into said kids bedroom instead, finding the prosthetic for his ghost form hidden in the back of his closet.

Dan frowned.

Hidden away like it was, that shit was indicating Little him hadn’t even tried to transform since he’d gotten to Gotham.

That…was so unhealthy. It was probably going to set back his recovery if he kept it up.

He’d have to ask Red Hood to keep tabs on how often the new Medic-hero went out, so he’d be able to chart how often he was transforming.

He knew the kid had issues with…well, all of it. His time as a core had reversed his age, and he’d only stopped regressing a year after Dan had left him with Frostbite. As far as Danny knew, he’d fallen unconscious a sixteen year old and woken up as a ten year old.

His mortal body had continued to age, chained by the constraints of the Timeline. So when he did transform, he was going from one form to a drastically different one.

Dan knew that the changes were probably extremely uncomfortable.

Dan also knew that he’d pushed far enough that night, convincing Tiny to transform against his will.

So he opted to say nothing about it to Danny, instead focusing on attaching the tiny prosthetic to the tiny leg.

“Decided to go apocalyptic style,” Dan hummed, testing the edges to ensure it was aligned properly, “Modified gas mask, only on the lower face, goggles optional, basic kevlar, medical satchel from the Far Frozen, all black, no identifiers.”

“Yeah, about that; are you sure you don’t wanna put like, a red cross or something?” Ellie cut in, her patting stopping as she leaned over their tiniest sibling.

Danny shook his head, a pout that Dan pretended not to notice on his face.

“No; identifiers work both ways, villains would be more likely to target me.” 

“Smart; keep them off your back long enough to move people out of the way. And what’s the plan if you get dragged into a fight?” Dan asked mildly, leaning back and looking up into a face that was far too young.

“End it.” Danny’s face was far too young to look that serious and dead-eyed, and Dan’s core lurched at letting a weak and injured ghostling free to enter into fights already.

“Not in a way that’ll hurt you, though,” Ellie sang as she danced towards the kitchen to raid Danny’s fridge.

The serious look faded, and Dan’s core eased a little.

“Don’t worry, I’ll dip as soon as I can.”

Dan nodded and stood up, reaching down to help the kid up.

“Well, get the fuck out of your own house then. Time to get to work.”

Danny gave him a shit-eating grin and tugged the gas mask into place, already fading from view.

~~~~~~

Danny floated down the streets of Crime Alley, not even bothering to hide himself with invisibility.

He’d already performed triage on bystanders in a gang fight, set a muggers broken leg and ensured he knew the physical therapy he’d need to prevent it from becoming a chronic issue, and had gone over pretty much every homeless kid checking for lice or sickness, and treating it as he saw signs of either.

He was loathe to admit it, but Dan had been right. Doing acts of ‘protection’ while in ghost form fed his core far more than doing it in human form.

It was just.

He just.

His hands were too small.

His voice was too high.

He was too vulnerable.

The shadows were too big, too dark, and he hated it when they turned off the lights, he could never see what they’d done to him this time-

“Hey, new supes-you’s a medic, right?”

Danny blinked, and he was standing on a sidewalk in Crime Alley while a concerned Prostitute stared down at him.

He shook himself.

“Yea, do you need treatment?” Danny winced a bit as his voice cracked, and he clutched at his bag a little tighter.

Her eyes bored into his own as she searched for something, before her expression got softer.

“Me’n some of th’ girls were boutta turn in, but Joanne had some rough Johns t’night. Need some bones set and some stitches. You game?”

Danny tilted his head, assessing her.

She was not lying.

He allowed his body to deny gravity and floated up, nodding.

The woman led him to one of the better hotels in Crime Alley, and Danny caught a glimpse of a rather large man shouting at some other men.

From the pieces of conversation he could gather, that man was Joanne’s pimp, and he was ultra-pissed that she’d been hurt.

The woman in front of him gave a short whistle, and when the man’s head turned towards her she held a finger to her lips.

Her other hand made some sort of subtle gesture, but it wasn’t ASL and Danny had no idea what it could have meant.

It must have meant some variation of ‘calm down’, though, as the man stopped yelling, and even went so far as to keep a respectful distance from Danny as he was tugged past older man.

The yelling didn’t start up again until the door to the hotel closed behind him.

Then Danny was taken to Joanne, and…she could probably do with a hospital instead of some kid hero.

Multiple lacerations, visibly broken arm and fingers-it wasn’t pretty. But Danny had seen worse.

His right hand made an involuntary fist before he stretched out his fingers.

“She ain’t comf’table with hospitals,” Danny’s guide explained quietly, “If we don’ treat her here, she’ll jus’ treat it herself at home, an’ we all know that won’t end well.”

Danny let out a small breath through his nose and stepped forward.

“Hello, I’m just a medic, but what are you okay with me treating tonight?”

~~~~~~

There was a new hero in the Alley.

Well, sort of.

The kid was clearly a Meta of some sort, but he was only focused on medical treatment.

Jason was also pretty sure he wasn’t a Super.

He��d know that glowing white hair anywhere, and the kids blue-ish complexion and pointy ears?

Nah, this was clearly Phantom’s kid.

Shortstack was older than he’d thought he would be, but Jason wasn’t an ectobiology expert; he had no idea how Infinite Realms Beings worked.

But this one wasn’t Phantom, that much he was sure of.

He felt the temperature drop, just enough to be unnatural.

“Your kids doin’ good work.”

Phantom hummed in agreement, slowly filtering into the visible spectrum beside Jason.

“Why Gotham, though?”

Phantom tensed.

Jason waited.

He was patient like that.

“The kid’s…sick. He can’t fight like I can, not yet.”

Jason couldn’t help but feel relief at that admission, if he was being honest with himself.

“But he’s a protection spirit. He has to protect, or he’ll do the ghost equivalent of starve.”

“Okay, alright; so have him help people and protect them as something that wouldn’t draw too much negative attention.” Jason nodded, starting to see the full picture.

“Yeah, and Gotham’s got uh…good ghost juice. For ghosts. You wouldn’t really get it, it’s a ghost thing.”

Jason turned to face the intimidating War Machine of an anti-hero, only to find the man wearing a perfectly serious expression.

He’d really just let that abomination of words tumble out of his mouth with a completely straight face.

“Fine, I get what you’re really here for. We’ll watch out for him.”

“Bats might have an issue.”

“Fuck Batman, a medic is a good idea.”

“No, I was saying if he had an issue that you should point him to me.”

Jason let out a wordless hum, watching the tiny head of glowing white hair bobbing on the streets below them.

“You think you could win against the Bat?” 

“In my previous world I not only won against him, but I murdered his friends and family. Yes, I can win against the Bat.” Phantom drawled, truth in every word he said.

Truth, and regret.

“Damn, threat received loud and clear. I’ll tell Batman where he can take his complaints, then.”

They tailed the kid for a bit, and Jason watched as Heather broke the kid out of a flashback on her way to Leslie's.

Heather, smart woman she was, recognized what was happening and did what Heather was prone to do; take immediate steps to help someone in need.

She distracted the kid.

Flashed the sign for ‘inside voices’ at Cody to make him shut up, and got the kid off the streets and away from those who would have taken advantage of Phantom’s protege’s lapse in concentration.

Phantom was a tense livewire next to him, energy shimmering at his fingertips.

“He started out in Crime Alley, Phantom, and we watch out for our own. He’ll be safer here than he would in Bristol.”

Phantom forced himself to nod, and with a deep, shaking breath the energy dissipated.

“…I guess I’ll just have to leave him to it, then.”

Jason watched the man turn away and leave stiffly, and found himself wishing Bruce had enough trust to do the same for his own children.

Then he shoved the thought from his mind and turned his attention back to the hotel; he had a toddler ghost to babysit.

#dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc #dc x dp #phanfic #in the shadow of speculation #finally wrote the next part #lmfao i did not realize how much time had passed fml #allusions to past torture #blood tw #broken bones tw #forced parenthood tw #description of a flashback #abled verbiage tw #self hatred tw #long post

[nowritingonthewall]

Dear Nonnie, it’s been ten thousand years, and if you are ever going to read this, I hope that you’re having the loveliest day imaginable 🥰 Thank you once again for being so incredibly lovely 💜

!Content warning for pregnancy and parenthood!

Please be aware that I am not an expert on DID.

Mostly soft and fluffy because Jake deserves it.

I am sorry to say that I have no idea who first came up with the beautiful idea that Jake LOVES cats, but I would like to thank all the amazing artists for spreading the love for cat dad Jake in the fandom 💖

👶 Family headcanons with Jake Lockley (x female reader)

- One of the most important things that you need to understand about Jake Lockley is that he cares. He cares so fricking much. He cares about Marc. He cares about Steven. He cares about you. And he cares so much about your little son and your little daughter, he is always going to put them first, no matter what. His role as protector will always come before his own emotional needs and feelings.

- The first mission, which he goes on the minute that he learns that you are pregnant and that never really ends, is to make your flat as save for your son (and later your daughter) as possible. One day you come home and are briefly convinced that your flat has been burgled. Not only are all of Steven’s books stacked neatly on the shelves, but the floor has been completely cleared of every single tripping hazard as well. Of course, convincing Steven to tidy up his own personal library and doubly securing all the shelves was the easy part. For every potential danger eliminated, it seems like Jake finds five more potential death traps for your little ones. During one particularly extensive shopping trip to B&Q, the shop assistant briefly considers asking him what he would need 20 fire extinguishers and all those smoke detectors for, but immediately changes his mind upon one raising of the eyebrow™.

It is terribly hard for Jake to face the reality that he won’t be able to keep your little ones away from harm forever. And it certainly won’t stop him from trying.

- A few weeks into your pregnancy, you are woken by a soft voice talking to your baby bump:

“Don’t worry, mi bebito. No matter what happens, tío Jake is going to keep you and your mamá and your two papás safe.”  

“Aren’t you forgetting someone, mi cariño?”

“Oh, you mean Khonshu? Don’t worry, if that silly bird is going to try…”

“Jake, sweetie, I am talking about you! Our little one will have three papás!”  

It doesn’t happen often that you see Jake cry. In fact, this is the very first time that he allows you to actually see the tears filling his eyes, before he pulls you into a long and warm and heart-felt hug.

The second time is the birth of your son.

- Jake is the one who fronts for most of the time, from the moment you go into labour to the moment you are both holding your son in your arms for the first time. Even if he knows how much Marc and Steven would want to be there for you, he simply wouldn’t be able to deal with their feelings of helplessness and pain on top of everything that you have to go through. He doesn’t complain when you squeeze his hand so hard that he fears his bones might break, he calmly accepts all the swear words that you keep screaming at him, he doesn’t even flinch when you start to curse him and the day that you met him.

He wouldn’t have complained about you not realizing that it is actually Marc holding you a while later, as you bury your face into his shoulder, utterly exhausted and quietly sobbing that you didn’t hate him at all and how sorry you are for everything that you threw at him earlier. But Marc nudges him gently back to the front. And so Jake gets to hold you and whisper softly how he didn’t mind at all and how he is certain that you were actually a superhero. His beautiful and amazing superhero.

He is convinced that he’ll never get used to the wonder of being allowed to hold your son in his hands. His hands that are so used to violence and death. He simply can’t believe how -  amidst all the pain and destruction that played such a major part in his life - he helped to create something so perfect and beautiful.

- For a while, he actually contemplates giving up the business of protecting the travellers of the night. On the one hand, he can no longer put himself in danger without regard for possible consequences. On the other hand, his ability to heal from fatal wounds isn’t exactly something that he would like to give up, especially since he has a family to protect now.

So whenever he refuses to take on a mission now because it’s too dangerous, even for his liking, and Khonshu won’t budge, he’ll just send Steven to negotiate with the pigeon until Khonshu starts to cry.

- Your little ones love to fall asleep curled up on Jake’s chest. And somehow he manages to never ever fall asleep himself, knowing (and fearing) how dangerous that can be. Though he doesn’t mind at all watching over you, whenever you drift off with one of your children snuggles up against you. No matter where they fall asleep, somehow he always manages to move them to their crib without waking them up. Sometimes they can’t be persuaded to let go of his hand, though. Not having the heart to let go, he’ll hold their little hands for hours, as they lie in their crib right next to your bed and you gently spoon him, resting your head against his shoulder, whispering softly that you can’t believe how lucky you are.

- Jake is not the kind of father to become lost in his phone or other activities while his kids are yearning for his attention (though he tries not to judge other people for it). In fact, he gets so lost in looking after your kids, fully committing to taking part in whatever games they come up with, and making sure that they are safe on their daily adventures, that he has no trouble ignoring his notifications for hours. Unless he’s waiting for a message or a call from you.

- In those nights when your little ones refuse to go to sleep, and all your usual strategies won’t work, Jake will take them into his cab and drive them around the city for a while, as you watch over them. They are usually out within seconds. If the nights aren’t too chilly, he loves to take one of the routes that end up on Parliament Hill. Sometimes he surprises you with a beautifully prepared romantic picnic with the lights of the city sparkling around you. And sometimes you just love to cuddle together under the stars. He always keeps an extra set of snuggly blankets for you and your children in his cab. When you tease him about how he always forgets to bring one for himself, he’ll whisper that you provide him with all the warmth that he needs before pulling you in for a long and loving kiss. Snuggled up against Jake with your children peacefully snoring between you, you really don’t mind those nights when they refuse to go to sleep at all.  

- Driving around in the cab with their papá Jake never ceases to be an exciting past time for your kids. They are able to name different brands of cars before they are able to walk, quickly surpassing the knowledge of both you and the boys, regularly shocking your friends and strangers with their expertise. And, of course, Jake secretly hopes that getting them familiar with the city might reduce the chances of them ever getting lost.

He lets them wear The Cap™. No one else is allowed to touch The Cap™, not even mommy. (Actually, if you asked him, he most likely wouldn’t be able to say no to you, but you love for him to have something that he shares exclusively with your little ones.)

Once a week, he takes your kids to a restaurant that they are allowed to choose for some quality bonding time. He deeply savours those moments, even in those weeks when they just seem to end up at McDonalds over and over again.

- Your flat used to have a strict no-cat-policy. As much as Marc would have loved to fulfil Jake’s dream of a fluffy little flat mate, there were just too many possible nightmare scenarios involving a cat and the Gus Gang and the inevitable tears of Steven that would follow after. That is, until your kids bring home a little abandoned kitten from the street after searching for its mother in vain for hours. Jake stays up for three days and nights, carefully nursing it back to health. When you wake up on the third morning after having fallen asleep in his lap (with Jake’s sweater thoughtfully wrapped around you), you find the little kitten all trusty and content and snuggled up right next to you, as Jake keeps on gently petting and caressing you both.

In the end, the combined power of those puppy dog eyes of you and your kids and Jake are just too much for Marc to bear and so Little Mau is adopted into your family. Not without Jake and Marc spending nearly a day turning your fish tank into Fort Knox, of course. Your flat turns into something of a home for stray kitties soon after that. And you soon get used to coming home and finding Jake under a huge cuddle pile of your cats and kids.

(The fact that birds are afraid of cats doesn’t enter into Jake’s or your love for them at all, of course.)

- The first “nonpractical” item that Jake has ever owned was a fluffy little cat plushie, which Marc and Steven gave to him on their first Hanukkah spent together. Cuddling with Little Gato warms his heart so much, that it may have inspired him to shower your kids with a number of plushies that may be considered to be slightly above average. He loves to pick out those fluffy little friends with you (and Marc and Steven always let him front in those moments), and it is practically impossible for him to say no, whenever your children find one that they would like to take home. It almost feels a little like making up for all the things that he had missed out as a child himself. And he is going to fight everyone who claims that plushies aren’t appropriate for little (and not so little) boys. 

- One day Jake comes home to find your daughter crying in your arms, deeply upset because a gang of straight hair girls won’t stop making fun of the glorious curls she inherited from her father. His initial instinct to make them shut up in a very undiplomatic way is quickly shut down, of course. The other two boys aren’t exactly helpful in this department, either. Because even though Steven takes care of his curls, he pretty much lets them do their own thing, whereas Marc puts so much product into his hair that his strands would put even the most elitist soldiers to shame.

Feeling a little helpless, he begins to observe and mentally take note of all the steps that you do when taking care of your daughter’s hair. He spends days in front of the laptop, trying to learn everything there is to learn about the curly hair method. There is an uncharacteristical shyness in his voice when he asks whether he could help you during wash day. After a few slightly insecure attempts, he becomes so good at it that your daughter keeps asking whether Jake could help her to take care of her curls. And he never forgets to tell her how beautiful she and her curls are.

And somehow Jake’s interest and care and the time that he spends bonding with your daughter does make everything better in the end. It may not stop the girls’ hurtful remarks but it certainly makes them easier to deal with.

- Jake starts to give your children lessons in self-defense as soon as they are able to walk. Just because he won’t be able to protect them wherever they go doesn’t mean that he can’t at least try to help them learn how to protect themselves, right?

It’s not like he condones violence in general, no, for real, he doesn’t. Yet he can’t stop himself from being a little proud when his kids come home after successfully defending themselves against a gang of bullies for the first time. And after properly taking care of them, underneath all the worry there’s a little proud moment of “Those are my kids!” before he pulls them into a hug and kisses them gently on their forehead.  

- Jake is excellent at stone skipping. As a young boy, it was the ideal hobby since it didn’t require any props to hide away and after getting involved with Khonshu, it was a perfect activity to train his hand-eye coordination without raising suspicion by the people around him.

He has never considered it to be something special until he sees the pure glee in your son’s eyes when watching him for the first time. He can delight your kids and you for hours with his skills. Sitting in St. James’s Park, he teaches them how to skip stones as you teach him how to just let loose for a little while. Making up theories about the secret agents feeding the ducks in the park. Or reading stories into the clouds that are passing above your heads, as he lies in your lap, soaking up the soothing feeling of you playing with his hair with your kids cuddled up to him on both sides.

The wonderful feeling of just being. No mission, no duty, no sense, just being and enjoying life for a while. And most of all, the endless love of his beautiful little family.

#jake lockley #moon knight #oscar isaac #jake lockley x reader #jake x reader #jake lockley x you #reader insert #fanfiction #chrissie tries to write #chrissie gifs #tw: pregnancy #tw: children #tw: parenthood

[silky-nereid]

— a family friend

tw : death, attempted of an elopement.

Yandere!noble friend x friend!reader/you

Yandere! Noble friend who is your best friend and always had her eyes on you but bitterly watches when you get betrothed to a Count that held a small footing in the higher elite class.

Yandere! Noble friend who is heavily yearning for your appearance during noble parties, just to see you since she hardly saw you after your marriage.

Yandere! Noble friend who notices the sudden behavioral change in you and the tiredness etched in your eyes. She questions it but you brush it off.

“Are you truly alright, dear?” she asked.

“Swimmingly well,” you responded. “Why do you ask?”

“You look tired,” she responded.

“Just…It’s difficult.” You smiled at her. “I heard about the courting of a noble for you. I never expected for you to get courted that quickly.”

She looked away, a champagne flute glimmered in the yellowed light of the candles from the chandelier. A smile remained on her lips, slipping on the champagne and looking back to you who wasn’t there anymore rather seemingly pulled back into the arms of your spouse and lost in the crowd of aristocrats.

Yandere! Noble friend who somehow loses contact with you and desperately tries to write to you but the letters always get sent back and she’s utterly distraught as her spouse notices her behavior and tries to comfort her but can’t since she only wants you and nobody else.

Yandere! Noble friend who is trapped in a loveless marriage with a sole heir but the color is seemingly brought back into her life when she sees you again, time hadn’t been kind to you but you still held a respectable title and still looked ever so lovely from afar; swooning again.

Yandere! Noble friend who heard about your niece’s arrival to your house and her betrothal to the prince but days later, the prince’s farewell ceremony to go to the unfortunate frontlines. She watches your tearful eyes, saying that your spouse will return despite her hoping that they don’t.

Her eyes scanned the study floor filled with crumpled pages of failures. Polished shoes clicked on the floor, it was a servant holding a letter on a silver platter.

“A letter—“ they said.

It was you, disheveled and hands trembling, the fresh fallen snow clung to your cloak. Had something happened to you? She got up from sitting in her cushioned chair which you paced, nails cut and bloodied.

“We—I need your help,” you said. “My friend, please help me. I’m in need of your services.”

Her warm hands grabbed your cold, bloodied hands and looked at you with concern.

“What happened?” She asked.

“She’s let down the family!” you cried, “She has broken her betrothal to the prince and tried to elope!”

“Who has she tried to elope with?” she questioned. “Doesn’t this girl understand what would happen if the prince agrees to breaking the betrothal as well?”

“Adrian Wells.” You pulled away from her. “I…I will lose everything. Please I beg of you to find him and speak to him, your brother in law about this or…or I will never speak to you again.”

Yandere! Noble friend who flips the world on its head to find him because she can’t risk losing you again which she does end up finding him. After a little roughhousing, she manages to get him out of the country to somewhere safe.

Yandere! Noble friend who comforts you despite hearing the arrival of the soldiers coming home but how deeply she wishes to replace your spouse and wants to hold you in her arms. She smiles internally when you come to her arms, sobbing about the demise of your spouse; it was a pure gift to her.

Yandere! Noble friend who continues to comfort you and spends more time with you than her actual family. She holds you and lets you cry in her arms while she reassures you that she’ll always be there for you.

She looked down at the fresh pile of dirt that held her spouse who recently died from an illness. Dressed in black, the veil covered her face and she wiped away the tears from her face with a handkerchief. She held your trembling gloved hand, her thumb rubbed your knuckles and she looked at you.

“Come, my dear,” she whispered. “We must return back home and our child is awaiting our return.”

She entered the carriage and helped you in closing the carriage window, she pulled back her black veil.

“Shouldn’t your son be present during this?” You asked. “It wasn’t right to come here without him.”

“Our son dear,” she added, “it would be meaningless because he’s too young to remember them. You would be a perfect fit to parent him with me.”

“I…I,” you stammered. “Please don’t make me, Evangeline. I can’t—“

“I know you can,” she said. “Let me into your heart, my dear. You have done it so many times with them, why am I so different?”

Yandere! Noble friend who after a few days and she has you move in with her since she knows how lonely it is since the servants hardly ever appear.

Yandere! Noble friend who starts being more of a prevalent parent with you by her side. She begrudgingly wears her mourning clothes to events and smiles when you wear yours as she has on occasions custom ordered matching mourning clothes for you and her.

Yandere! Noble friend who occasionally forgets that you did love your spouse to a degree since she wants to be the only person in your heart.

Her hands rested on your shoulders, both of you were in your nightwear. You had taken refuge by sitting on the new vanity chair that she had brought you days prior, your forehead rested on the wood. She stood behind you, hair tucked back into a loose braid with a light familiar smile on her lips.

“You have been like this for a while, my dear,” she said. “Tell me what’s wrong? I can help you get better.”

“I don’t think that I can do this, Evangeline,” you said. “I…please.”

“I saw you eyeing a specific spot yesterday,” she said. “Would you like that we have a walk tomorrow and we could bring our son too?”

You looked up at her from the vanity mirror, her eyes stared down at your scalp then to the mirror; still smiling.

“I..I would like that,” you said.

“Excellent,” she replied, “now come on, let’s go to bed. Tomorrow is going to be wonderful.”

#yandere x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere prompt #yandere x you #tw yandere #yandere idea #yandere imagines #yandere fanfiction #yandere fic #yandere female x reader #tw death #tw forced parenthood #yandere oc x you #yandere evangeline x reader

[meadow-hearthfire]

Trolls Reproduction Headcanon Add-On

EDIT 08/04/2024: I don't entirely adhere to this post anymore.

Add-on to this

In order for two trolls to successfully conceive a baby, they need to both want kids.

Also, the desire to have kids needs to be coupled with a mindset of certainty and readiness about having kids.

Both trolls need to be on the same page or wavelength, because otherwise their attempts at conceiving a baby won't work if one of them is uncertain for whatever reason about having kids.

#Trolls #dreamworks trolls #Trolls 2 #Trolls 3 #Trolls world tour #trolls band together #trolls headcanons #Headcanons #TW pregnancy #tw impregnation #Parenthood #Desired parenthood #baby fever

[heich0e]

"you know that's not how it works, right?"

atsumu and osamu's heads both snap up from where they're stooping over a paper schematic laid out before them, sitting cross-legged amidst a debris field of cardboard, styrofoam, and various wooden parts.

the sun streams in through the open window on the other side of the room, and little motes of dust that have been stirred up through the afternoon's excitement are caught in the light as they twist and spin through the air, fluttering slowly towards the ground. the breeze that slips in through the window is cool but refreshing, the smell of spring carried in on the edge of every wisp of air. you take a deep breath to savour it.

"whaddya mean?" atsumu asks, his brows—so much darker than the peroxide blonde of his hair, and the contrast even more stark since he's seated right in the sunlight that makes his hair practically glow—pinching together in the centre and expressing his confusion. osamu doesn't say anything, but his own expression is equally perplexed as he sits beside his noisy brother.

you laugh, taking a sip from your glass of water as you lean against the doorway.

"i said that's not how it works."

osamu's grey eyes flicker back down to the instruction manual in front of him, his lips pursing thoughtfully as he mulls over your comment.

you sigh, a little smile tugging at your lips. "samu, i'm not talking about the crib."

both brothers look up at you once more, now thoroughly confused by your interruption and wearing nearly identical expressions which convey that sentiment. you set your cup of cool water down on the chest of drawers just inside the doorway: an old wooden hand-me-down from their mother, who insisted you take it for the nursery and give it a second life in a new miya household. you pad into the room, approaching them both slowly as you carefully avoid the various pieces of disassembled crib that litter the floor, and crouch down to sit between them.

atsumu sees the way you struggle on your descent, still not quite used to the bump that has swollen at your waist and grows with every passing day, and he quickly reaches up to help you settle in between the two of them. you murmur quiet thanks, squeezing the blonde's hand with your own before you pull away.

once you've finally made yourself comfortable on the nursery floor, you huff. "what i meant was that's not how twins work."

you'd caught the tail end of the brothers' conversation as you passed by the doorway to the nursery—a casual but enthusiastic debate on whether or not you should be expecting one baby or two.

"yer gonna explain twins to us?" tsumu guffaws in the wake of your words, looking to his brother for solidarity in his indignation. samu's eyes instead flicker down to the bump of your stomach where your hand is resting.

"we're kinda the experts in the room y'know," osamu teases you, his gaze flickering up to meet yours. you roll your eyes.

"experts?" you parrot back incredulously. "says the guy who barely passed biology, and the one who's forgotten everything about high school other than volleyball scores and school lunch menus."

you point to atsumu and osamu respectively as you make your remarks.

"hey!" atsumu whines.

"i remember other stuff too," samu laughs a bit as he reaches up and ruffles the dark hair at the nape of his neck. you cock a brow as you lean in towards him.

"oh, yeah?" you challenge his assertion. "like what?"

"cute girls," osamu says as he turns his attention back to the assembly instructions on the floor before him, a cheeky smile tugging at his lips. you resist the urge to swat at the back of his head.

behind you, since you've turned your body to face his brother, atsumu pitches forward and hooks his chin over your shoulder.

"so, what was that about anyway? the twin thing?" he asks, muttering in a way that tells you he's got a pout on his lips even if you can't see it.

you lean back into atsumu slightly, watching as osamu picks up a piece of crib and turns it over in his hands to survey it, comparing it to the complicated illustration in the instruction manual.

"even though you two look so much alike, you're fraternal," you say, tilting your head to peek up at him through your lashes. "and your mom's mom was a fraternal twin too."

atsumu hums. you've not told him anything he doesn't already know. "s'genetic!"

"it is," you agree, running a hand over your stomach absentmindedly. "but the gene that makes you more likely to have twins has to do with ovulation. which means it has to affect the mother—and i have no twins in my family."

atsumu sucks in a sharp little breath that you can't help but think sounds a bit disappointed. osamu pauses in his instruction surveillance.

"besides," you remark, peeling yourself up from against atsumu's chest, "we already heard the baby's heartbeat, and there was definitely only one in there."

osamu looks over at you, pointing the mystery piece of crib in your direction. "our ma said the same thing, and still ended up with the two of us. careful whatcha say."

"she says i hid my heartbeat 'til the second trimester!" atsumu agrees with his brother, supporting his argument in a distinctly proud way—a wide grin stretching across his face.

"troublesome from the very beginning, huh?" you tease him, and he reaches up to pinch your cheek playfully in response.

"what about identical twins then?" osamu asks. "they genetic too?"

"no," you shake your head, atsumu's fingers still lightly holding the fat of your cheek and making your words come out a little funny. "they'a fweeks o'naytchor."

atsumu laughs, letting his grip on your face go. "freaks of nature?"

you rub at your stinging cheek with your fingers, glaring at him resentfully. "there's no real reason why identical twins happen. they shouldn't happen, by all accounts. but for one reason or another the fertilized egg decides it's going to split and basically clone itself even though it's not supposed to. that's weird."

"so, who has identical twins?" osamu asks, reaching up and running his thumb over the red mark his brother left on your poor cheek.

you purse your lips as you consider his question. "well... anyone could, i guess. in theory. there's no real rhyme or reason to it."

atsumu and osamu's eyes lock over your shoulder, and you can't help but noticed the look they share between them. the one that makes you want to groan aloud.

the one that clearly reads of hope.

#LOL sorry u guys can figure out who the father is bc the poll was split right down the middle #btw true confessions this is actually how i feel about identical twins..... that's just not right #atsumu x reader #osamu x reader #hq drabble #hq writing #writing #tw pregnancy #tw parenthood

[animentality]

#twitter #parenthood #childhood #abuse #tw religious abuse