#2300 followers milestone

[madame-fear]

˗ˏˋ 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍.ᐟ | 𝟐𝟑𝟎𝟎 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ˎˊ˗

Hello everyone! I’m very pleased to say that for this new followers milestone, drabbles are officially open.

I have said this many times before, but I will say it again. I sincerely can’t thank you enough for supporting & showing love to me, and all the works I do with so much effort 💗 I’m very pleased to see that you are all eager to see new content on this blog! And of course, to be constantly showered with love from my mutuals. 🥰

To celebrate that, I wanted to open drabbles since my requests (headcanons, one shots, etc) remain closed, but I still wanted to do something special.

→ check out my prompts in case you want to feel inspired to request something in particular!

˚₊‧꒰ RULES ꒱ ‧₊˚

For whatever you request, I will write 100-600 words at max; I will keep them as short as I can since they are drabbles. Please keep in mind I both study & work, so drabbles might either take some time to be published, or might not. Both fluff & smut requests are allowed! But please, be as specific as you can when requesting, so I know and can write exactly whatever you fancy. Drabbles will be open from February 14th to March 1st.

˚₊‧꒰ WHAT CAN YOU REQUEST? ꒱ ‧₊˚

I write for fluff, enemies to lovers, some AUs (specify please), friends to lovers, love triangle, slowburn, mutual pining, (reasonable) age gap. → for smut: praising kink, choking, ask for spanking, breeding kink, bondage, daddy kink, knife play, creampie, yandere/dark, morning sex, mirror sex, oral sex, breast play; feel free to ask if I write about anything else not included here. I don’t feel comfortable writing for non-con, r*pe, p*dophilia, gore, violent content.

˚₊‧꒰ WHO CAN YOU REQUEST FOR? ꒱ ‧₊˚

I write for some HOTD characters (Lucerys, Jacaerys, Rhaenyra, Aegon ii, Aemond, Helaena, Alicent), and I also write for Enzo Vogrincic. → I will also start writing for Fran Romero.

That would be everything for now! Have fun requesting drabbles! And of course, if you have any doubt at all about whatever thing, feel free to send me a message & I will gladly answer.🌹

[a-d-nox]

thank you to everyone who got me to 25,000 likes! it's the best pre-birthday present i could receive (i also am now at 2,300 followers - so love you all)!

-a.d.

[daaydreamy]

HIIIII EVERYBODYYYYYYY!!!!!!!! god there’s so many of you and as the new miss universe, all i can say is thank you so much for choosing me 🙏 BUT IN ALL SERIOUSNESS THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! thank you all for reading and supporting my works :-))))) i love talking to you all and i swear i don’t talk to just myself on this blog, so thank you thank you thank you!!!! 🫂🫂🫂

[houghtonlib]

Wow, our 11th birthday! Hi, all, this is John Overholt, curator at Houghton Library, making a possibly unprecedented first-person post to reflect on this milestone.

No one has ever guessed correctly when I ask what our most-followed account on social media is--at more than 64,000 followers, it's the Houghton Library Tumblr, which I started as a way to share the richness of our digitized collections. I was lucky when I started the site that Tumblr itself was very interested in promoting the work of special collections libraries, and helped us reach a wider audience than we could have otherwise.

Obviously Tumblr is a different site in 2024 than it was in 2013, but I'm proud of the record I've built up here over the years and I think our archive of more than 2300 posts makes a great introduction to Houghton's collections and to the amazing things you can find in the world of rare book and manuscript libraries like ours.

[bennydwight]

TGAMM Season 2 Countdown: Four days left

A new art medium for the four days milestone. Have a post-season finale fic!

Summary: Following the destruction of the Chairman, Scratch is plagued by insomnia. Turns out, he’s not the only one. Apparently, he and Libby are more alike than first expected

Word count: 2300 (give or take)

If you prefer AO3 formatting, click here to read!

Obviously, being dead, there were some things Scratch simply didn’t need to do. Eat. Flatulate. Sleep. He did them simply because he really liked to do them, in fact they were often cited as his favourite things to do. So now, as he lay in his dollhouse with his hands clasped over his chest like a corpse, the annoyance broiling in his center didn’t come from the need to sleep, but rather the inability.

In control of himself in a way humans generally weren’t (thanks to a blessed lack of glands, those little fiends messed with everything), insomnia wasn’t a common struggle, able to will himself to sleep anytime, anywhere. Usually. Lately, it had been getting harder. After the McGees had been forced to leave, sleep became nearly impossible, the creaks and groans of his old house echoing emptily without living bodies to bounce off, turning his warm home into nothing more than a hollow structure. He took to roaming the dark halls during the night like a… well, like a ghost. He’d finally been able to relax a little after they moved back in, but the events with the Council, and the Chairman, and Molly in the Ghost World today? The edges of his form tightened with riled energy at the thought even now. Stupid pseudo-biology.

In the light of day, when the family was loud and annoying and active and alive and there, then he could rest. But in the stillness of night, the air too dead to be truly comfortable, Scratch dimmed his glow and abandoned the dollhouse to poke his head into the bedroom proper. Molly lay practically smothered under an obscene amount of fluffy blankets, all her stuffed animals in haphazard piles around the lump of her body. Their blank eyes stared eerily forward, her silent and expressionless protectors. She nearly squeezed the head off her unicorn in her sleep, clinging to the corporeal. Scratch knew creepy, his job depended—had depended on it, but if the toys brought Molly even a little comfort then he could stand the weird little button eyes.

The exhaustion of being separated from her body had put Molly to sleep almost immediately, and though it was a deep sleep Scratch couldn’t speak to the restfulness of her dreams. Especially with the way she was strangling that unicorn. He’d check back on her again later.

He drifted downwards, to the landing and then through to Darryl’s bedroom, where the youngest McGee splayed across his bed, limbs tangled in plant-printed sheets and whistling through his nose with every breath. Here. Alive.

(The sound had driven him nearly mad when they first moved in, every sign of occupants grating against his existence like sandpaper, but now he wouldn’t trade the noise for all the tacos in Brighton.)

Scratch took a second to check the bandages around Darryl’s fingers, bitten to bloody as they all waited for Molly’s successful return. And his own. He made a quick detour to the bathroom and dropped a tube of antibiotic cream on Darryl’s nightstand. If that didn’t remind him to change the bandages in the morning, Scratch would do it himself.

Across the hall saw him into mom and dad’s room, the two of them cuddled close in peaceful slumber, sleeping like the dead.

(Eew, no, he didn’t want to think about that.)

A little green bottle of melatonin sat innocently on Pete’s bedside table, and Scratch’s glow dimmed impossibly further. Maybe their sleep was sound now, but it didn’t look like it started that way. Had that been his fault?

And since when had he started caring so much?

Assisted or not, the McGees had settled, so Scratch headed out into the night, continuing his rounds. A way to burn an unfamiliar restless energy at the beginning, they’d since evolved into a fallback routine. Molly had her stuffed animals. Darryl, the older members of his family. Mom and dad, melatonin. Scratch had his rounds, a reminder (a comfort. Here. Alive). Brighton slept, blissfully unaware of the harrowing events of the day, but despite the subsurface titanic shift of the status quo, the town remained stubbornly stagnant. Ah, life. To be so ignorant again.

Scratch reached the bookshop and headed in through the left window, where Leah lay still except for the even rise and fall of her chest. He hadn’t been present for the dropoff (being detained and all), but he’d witnessed her load armful after armful of occult books back into the trunk of her old beater, pleasantly bemused at the sense of relief and celebration radiating from his family as she came to drive Libby back home. Without her help, Libby and Molly might never have been able to free him. Indirectly, Leah Stein-Torres may have saved his life. (Or death. Whatever.)

Crossing into the adjacent bedroom, though, Scratch froze on reflex. Libby sat on her window seat, notebook on her lap and pencil moving in quick strokes across the paper even as her stare remained glued out the window.

Seems he wasn’t the only one who couldn’t sleep.

“Burnin’ the midnight oil?”

A thrill of satisfaction passed through him at Libby’s startled noise, and she whipped around so fast her hair smacked her in the face. Not exactly a scare, but maybe it would still count in his scare report—

Which, with the Chairman gone, probably wouldn’t exist anymore. (Weird to think about, but hey, he could use the vacation.)

Libby’s surprise faded, posture relaxing as she recognized her visitor. “Oh. Hey, Scratch.”

He scoffed at her tone, making himself comfortable on the opposite side of the window seat. Her throw pillows didn’t have the same comfy impression as Sharon’s, but they melded nicely to his butt regardless. “Pfft, a guy might start to feel unwanted.”

“You are in my bedroom past midnight,” Libby pointed out, annoyingly correct. Then, the previous tension hiked up her shoulders. “Did something happen? Is everything okay?”

Scratch raised his hands placatingly. “Easy, Libs, everything’s fine. With me, anyway,” he accentuated the word with a weighted stare.

Libby leaned back, resigned. “Just… couldn’t sleep.”

“I hear it’s goin’ around.”

“Still thinking about… what happened today?”

She missed his surprised glance, weirdly focused on the window, but her direct question threw him for a loop. How could he not be? The Ghost World had changed fundamentally. His best friend had given up half her life to save him and they’d both almost been lost to despair, and despite the fact that this should all be neatly filed away and repressed in his mind somewhere to never be thought of again, here he was losing sleep over it. “Uhhh… no?”

“Oh.” Wrong answer. Libby pulled her knees closer to her chest. “Me neither.”

Equally unconvincing. Should he… press? Molly would, but wasn’t that invasive? Did he really care enough to know? Was the fact that he asked himself that proof one way or the other?

As he scrambled desperately for something to say, panic rising, Libby’s pencil started up again, scratch scratch scratch, in those short, repetitive strokes. Scratch peered over to see a messy sketch of Molly, gray and lifeless, in the notebook’s margins.

The trip to the Ghost World had been a whirlwind of dread and uncertainty and so, so much fear that Scratch hadn’t even considered what it was like on the other side. Going through it firsthand had been stressful enough. What must it have felt like to just be… waiting?

Somehow, miraculously, the connection between his mind and his tongue solidified. “Hey. Thanks.” Spirits, he was bad at this. “For, uh, taking care of Molly while we were gone.”

Instead of reacting to the praise, Libby closed off, tucking her chin into the collar of her pyjamas. “It was scary, you know. Not knowing what was going on. Stuck with that… shell.”

“…Yeah.” Molly’s essence—ironically, her life—had been deep in death’s trenches. Though it looked like Molly and sounded like Molly, it hadn’t been Molly. Scratch had spent a grand total of twenty seconds with the cadaver and even that had been unnerving.

How long had they been gone in the living world? He hadn’t thought to ask. Apparently a common theme for him.

“Will it happen again? Will Molly leave to hang out there, or… save you again or anything?”

Scratch only heard the unspoken question because he’d turned it over in the dark, secret, nasty parts of his mind so often: will Molly leave me for something better?

(He was not a fan of this particular mirror. The universe liked to play jokes, apparently.)

He sighed. “Okay, look. In the Ghost World, we have—had—this thing, the Flow of Failed Phantoms.” How had no one explained this to her yet? “A ghost doesn’t meet his misery quota and he’d be banished forever, blah blah blah. That’s what Molly saved me from.”

Libby’s head shot up, fingers tightening around her notebook to the point where the paper crumpled, and Scratch winced sympathetically. “You were going to be banished?!”

“Dipped too low in my quota. Hard to be miserable with Molly around.” No matter how hard he tried.

“So this might happen again? This rescue mission?”

Scratch felt her panic and fear in mouth-watering waves, but the ability to resist taking advantage of that had grown astonishingly strong. Besides, there was no point in scaring anyone anymore. “Nah, see, Molly took care of that. She kinda, uh, destroyed the Flow. Forever. And killed the guy in charge. So, no more risk of that.” Unless the Ghost Council formed an even worse alternative, a thought that haunted Scratch’s every (annoying, plentiful) waking moment. That was a Future Scratch problem.

The fear lessened some, and his membrane stopped itching. “So… neither of you are in danger anymore?”

Her voice was so plaintive Scratch was suddenly, abruptly aware that he was talking to a child. It was hard to remember sometimes, kids were so much more mature these days (save Darryl), but Libby’s eyes glistened alarmingly in the filtered streetlights, stubbornly refusing to meet his own stare.

This was so far out of his comfort zone.

A hesitant beat passed before he floated over, hooking his fingers around the top of her notebook. “Hey, Libs, it’s alright. Molly and I are here for good. No more wraiths, no more Flows. You’re stuck with us.” He tried an encouraging smile. “I promise.” Normally that kind of commitment only manifested when he performed a curse, but for some reason this felt like the opposite. On impulse, he rested one of his hands over hers, the way he and Molly had connected as the Flow threatened to break them down to nothing but molecules of misery.

Finally, Libby’s hands softened, the paper’s rough crinkling nearly masking a quiet sniffle. “I’d just hate to be stuck here while you two were in trouble.”

All this mushy stuff was making his ectoplasm curl. Scratch reached around, adjusting sketch-Molly’s slack mouth into a smile, and her appearance shifted from corpselike to sleepily contented. “Well, now you know how to wraith, and you know Geoff,” (a little joining of worlds he could’ve gone without, thank you very much), “so you can come pull our butts out of the fire if this ever happens again. Which it won’t.”

Molly’s hugs were telegraphed, wide-armed and strong enough to discorporate him if she really tried. So Libby’s arms around him, sudden and tentative like she was afraid of breaking him, were a shock to his nonexistent heart.

“Thank you, Scratch. For taking care of her in there.”

His body knew how to respond to the McGees, but this was new. After a moment’s hesitation, Scratch wrapped her in his own hug, secure and strong (like Molly’s). Like a conversation, Libby’s grip tightened to match. “Thanks for keepin’ her safe out here. No more trips to the Ghost World if I can help it.”

Her warm chuckle vibrated against him. (Here. Alive.) “Aww, you’re kind of a softie, aren’t you?”

“Alright, alright, get off, your hair’s getting stuck in my ectoplasm.” Another difference from Molly’s hugs: more hair. As Libby pulled away, she couldn’t quite disguise a sleepy blink. “Now get to bed or your mom’s gonna kill me again.”

She giggled, the sound infinitely lighter and Scratch’s colour brightened in response. As she put away her notebook and climbed into bed he hovered uncertainly over the window seat, half ready to leave and half insistent that he stay until dismissed. Another old habit.

“Scratch?” He nearly didn’t hear his name, Libby’s voice muffled by sleep and blankets (not as many as Molly, but close). He drifted nearer, and suddenly realized he’d been subconsciously straightening the wrinkles in her comforter. He tucked his hands behind his back, willing down a blush (some habits didn’t die at all, even without glands). “Yeah?”

Libby’s smile betrayed the fact that she’d seen his fussing, something smug and secretive in the corners of her mouth. Too observant for her own good, this one. Scratch braced himself for ridicule, but she only said, “will you stay until I fall asleep?”

His glow softened, casting warm shadows into the corners of her room like a nightlight, and he didn’t bother trying to mask the way he adjusted the blankets now. “Yeah, kid. Don’t worry. I ain’t going anywhere.”

Spirits, he was a failure as a ghost. Maybe he was getting better at this ‘friendship’ thing, though, and he knew which one he preferred.

 END

[welcome-to-green-hills]

Mystery you should draw something to celebrate your 2300 followers (in reference to your milestone post)

👉🥺👈

I do have a doodle that I did last night… maybe…

[mildr3d]

A quick sketch to thank my Twitter followers for reaching the 2300 milestone.

I hope we could grow more during the year!!!

[byhees]

୨୧ blog milestones

50 likes across posts — 30/11/22

100 likes across posts — 2/12/22

20 followers — 5/12/22

250 likes across posts — 6/12/22

500 likes across posts — 12/12/22

50 followers — 21/12/22

1000 likes across posts — 21/12/22

100 followers — 27/12/22

2500 likes across posts — 29/12/22

200 followers — 31/12/22

5000 likes across posts — 1/1/23

1000 notes on a post — 2/1/23

300 followers — 2/1/23

400 followers — 6/1/23

500 followers — 17/1/23

600 followers — 1/2/23

700 followers — 11/2/23

800 followers — 23/3/23

900 followers — 17/4/23

1000 followers — 17/5/23

1100 followers — 31/5/23

1200 followers — 22/6/23

1300 followers — 7/7/23

1400 followers — 9/8/23

1500 followers — 17/8/23

1600 followers — 31/8/23

1700 followers — 9/9/23

1800 followers — 28/9/23

1900 followers — 7/10/23

2000 followers — 16/10/23

2100 followers — 3/11/23

2200 followers — 13/11/23

2300 followers — 28/11/23

2400 followers — 11/2/24

2500 followers — 25/2/24

THANK YOU

[bardic-tales]

hello and how are you?

Happy Storyteller Saturday NL! c:

If there was one thing in your stories or writings that could be the foundation of familiarity for your fans, what do you think it would be? Is there a character that you would love to one day hear people instantly know comes from you? Is there a thought/trope that you would want others to associate you with? Anything that, if you could choose to, would be what makes people think: "Ah, that's NL! Would recognize that thought anywhere!"

The Not Yet Dead Author, @365runesofwriting

Hello Natsume! I'm doing well. Just trying to plan a celebration as I am over a follower milestone. Also, trying to finish up the asks I got sent today for STS, so I can focus more on Pale Fire's character page, as well as the Pinterest page for Cold as Ice.

I'm going to break this up into parts, as that is easier for me to tackle longer questions. I may ramble a bit or two.

If there was one thing in your stories or writings that could be the foundation of familiarity for your fans, what do you think it would be?

I was actually thinking about this today, as I had another writeblr ask something similar today. As I was working on Pale Fire's character page and adding the description for my protagonist, I realized that all three protagonists for all three WIPs have foster families.

This will be the case in the final trilogy set in the Planes of Existence. Laelithra is the protagonist of that one, and while she is a priestess of Amés and actually the god's true love, she still visits her foster family. Laelithra's backstory is kind of inspired slightly by Aerith of Final Fantasy 7. She's wholesome and pure and doesn't deserve what is going to happen to her.

Is there a character that you would love to one day hear people instantly know comes from you?

This would be Amés. He is the vener (god) of life and love. More precisely, he oversees passion and physical desire.

Amés was the first god that was born in the Ven Plane, and as such, he is known as the king of all gods. The first born veneri live in a capital called Yiran. Yiran is a large capital, spanning more than 1/2 of the Plane. Blue misty skyscrapers dot the landscape.

Everything that has happened in the trilogies associated with Flight of the Dragon and Cold as Ice was orchestrated by Amés. He would appear to Brennan in a human vessel and hold him to his family's divine duty. It is Amés who is influencing Cyras and Vaene through a scrying pool from the ven plane. He needs them to bear a child, but they do fall in love on their own volition.

Why does he need a child? Amés has seen a vision of the apocalypse twice. In the first vision, it is the ruin that is left behind by the Endless Hunger. He senses the child of prophecy being born and interferes, but as he tells Brennan, he can't interfere more as he already has done too much. In exchange for the dragon's accept, Amés offers Brennan the option of living in an afterlife of his choosing with his life mate.

This doesn't come to pass, as Alystin passes away long before Brennan. Brennan is already 1200 at the time of Flight of the Dragon. There is about 2300 years between FOTD and Faith's Fall (which is the first book of the end trilogy). Brennan has spent all that time without Alystin, causing him to go mad and curse Amés.

The second time is when the vener of war Vittore comes to earth and is set upon destroying Cirel, the planet where the novels take place. Amés' has achieved what he set out with Cyras and Vaene, and he escapes the Ven Plane and is born upon the Arathean Plane. He is named Sandric.

The Olessan Empire is in its downfall, a far cry from what my readers will see in Cold as Ice. It actually is destroyed by Vittore and forces Sandric to flee. He has no destination and is fleeing from the destruction.

This is where he meets Laelithra. Sandric is smitten with her, but she isn't.

Sandric actually goes through a lot for Laelithra. He goes to the Death Plane to rescue her. Laelithra really opens him up to something he has never felt before.

Is there a thought/trope that you would want others to associate you with?

This is such a wonderful question, Natsume. It's one I haven't really thought of before.

As I write dark fantasy, there are some common tropes associated with it. I think the one that I would want associated with me is that humans are the real monsters. I hope that it serves as a cautionary tale.

Cirel is a horrible world to live in. The monarchy is corrupt. Yes, there are scary creatures and gods associated with the world, but the real spotlight is on humanity. The Olessan Empire isn't a wonderful place. Poverty is on the rise. The Dregs (the slums district) isn't even in the city. They are pushed up against the Olessan Forum's retaining wall.

Things often go wrong, and when they do, they go very wrong. The nastiness of the world often pits characters against each other, and it tears apart innocence.

For example, I often bounce ideas initially off my husband. There is a character there named Camila in Cold as Ice. She is the daughter of Cyras, the protagonist. He told me that Camila is too pure for that world. She is, and through her tribulations, she will become hardened like her mother.

Thanks again for the wonderful questions, @365runesofwriting. They made me really think about the world itself and how it would relate to my readers. Hope you are doing well.

[mleighsquickspot]

A new day has come my friends. Welcome and welcome back lovelies. I hope your day is treating you well. I'm so glad to say that this week’s posts will be in celebration of reaching a new milestone. I now have 2300 plus followers here on Tumblr. Thank you all so much my friends for your continued support and much love.

If you'd be so kind use the link below and join me on my other socials. Mainly show me some love on my Patreon, YouTube, and TikTok. I post there just like on here every day. Also, I'm accepting clients for proofreading and editing. If any of you or anyone you know may be back in school, use the email below and message me.

Here are my thoughts on last week's questions...

Tuesday, Quick Shot

So J. Lo and Ben are back together after so long apart. I really wonder if they'll be together for long. I do feel that maybe they should have just gotten married the first time around. I wonder if they are really happy together or are they together just to have someone?

Thursday, Reel Motion

So, events at the recent coming con were interesting lol. I don't think the cast of the Black Atom film should have been booed. I mean it's not their fault for the DCEU’s lack of Superman or any other characters not having an upcoming film. Yet, I will say from the crowd’s reaction it looks like DC fans are currently unpleased with the state of that film universe.

Sunday, Thought Provoking Questions

41. I'm uncertain about my future, but I'm sure many of us can say that nowadays.

42. When I lie awake in bed I think about my daydreams. I try not to think about my past or my present.

43. Most people don't know that I still suck two of my fingers. I never really grew out of it.

44. When I have a random hour of free time I usually spend it sitting down and having a moment of stillness.

45. I don't know what makes me weird really, I guess being weird like beauty is in the eye of the beholder lol.

Have a great day InterWorld family 😘.

Stay safe and well InterWorld 💗.

Click on this link and join me on all of my social media https://linktr.ee/Mleighqs

Check out my YouTube Channel and become a $1 patron and support my work

Message me at mlproofing@yahoo.com if you are in need of a proofreader/editor

[viper-motorsports]

Having crashed during qualifying at Japan’s Suzuka Circuit, the N°23 Nissan GT-R NISMO GT500 started the sixth round of the 2020 Super GT from the back row yet they managed to earn an epic victory for Motul Autech.

[madame-fear]

OMG THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR THE 2300 FOLLOWERS. I love all of the community and sweet friends I made on here. I am eternally grateful for you guys, and the love and kindness and support you provide me 🥰❤

Tysm for being an important part of my life! <33

[hollow-knight-hope]

sorry for disappearing again! job hunting is no fun :(

(also is anyone looking to hire a marine biologist? anyone?)

luckily i’ve had some new distractions like getting into Dungeons & Dragons! i think im improving with clip studio too, so maybe i will get to drawing more content :D

[snipsnsnailsnwerewolftales]

Okay, what?

Come again?

And yes, three pictures, because it’s meant to be dramatic like, “Dun, dun, duuunnnnnnn!”

Why is nobody laughing?

I’m hilarious.

[nonalectos]

.

[myloversgone]

Moments Like These

Pairing: Dean x female!Reader; Dean x Y/N

Warnings: Fluff with a bit of angst. Mentions of depression (be careful if this can be a trigger to you!). Sexy times, but nothing too graphic. 

Word count: 2300-ish

Summary: Dean and Y/N are new parents, and they have been facing all the challenges that come with it together, but she hasn’t been feeling very well. Can he help?

A/N: This is my entry for @avanatural 300 followers challenge. Congrats again, my dear friend, for this milestone! ❤🥰

My prompt was #12: “Making a child is the easy part. The hard part is everything that comes after.” (it’s highlighted in my story). I’ve been wanting to write a domestic!Dean fic for a while, and this quote was just the inspiration I needed. 😊

Please, note this fic is not beta’d, which means all mistakes are mine. 

I hope you like it! Feedback gives me life ❤

Thanks for reading!

“Sammy, please, tell me you’ve made coffee?” Dean pleaded as he walked into the bunker’s kitchen. He was wearing black sweats and a white t-shirt. His hair was ruffled and he had black circles under his eyes.

Sam chuckled at the sight of his older brother. “Yeah, man. I knew you would need coffee, I heard Sophie crying. ‘She alright?”

“Yeah, she’s fine, it’s just her teeth. She’s awake now, Y/N ‘s changing her diaper, they’ll be here any minute”. Dean answered, grabbing his mug and filling it almost to the brim with fresh coffee. “Are you making breakfast for all of us?”. He looked at the pan on the stove, where Sam was mixing some eggs, while taking a big gulp of the hot liquid.

“Yeah! Am I the best brother/uncle/brother-in-law or what?”. The younger Winchester questioned, opening his arms and smiling. At that exact second, Y/N walked into the kitchen holding baby Sophie with one arm and pushing the baby’s stroller with the other. She was wearing Dean’s grey robe over her light pink nightgown.

“Soph thinks you’re the best uncle ever, Sam”, she said with a smile, having heard what Sam said. Like Dean, she had dark circles under her eyes and looked very tired. Oh, the perks of being new parents.

Dean came to meet them, pecking Y/N on the lips and kissing the baby’s head. Sophie cooed at her dad, small hand reaching for his face. “Morning, sweetie”, Dean said, holding his daughter’s hand and kissing it too. He pushed the stroller to the side of the kitchen’s table before proceeding to help Sam with the food.

"Geez, Y/N, you look like you didn't sleep at all", Sam noticed, looking at her.

"Yeah, I barely did. Dean got up when Sophie started crying, but I couldn't sleep without him", Y/N explained, yawning.

"That kid has some powerful lungs, let me tell ya". Dean said, almost proudly, while filling their plates with bacon and eggs and pouring some orange juice in a cup for Y/N. 

"Guys, if you need any help, even during the night, just say it. I'm serious", Sam kindly offered, being the sweet man he always was.

"Thanks, brother". Dean squeezed his brother's shoulder as he finished setting the plates for the three of them while Sam joined the couple at the kitchen table.

“But this is normal, right? I mean, I read somewhere it’s expected for babies her age to have trouble sleeping”, the younger Winchester questioned, smiling at his niece, who was trying to steal the orange juice from her mom’s hand.

“Yeah, Soph was always a good sleeper. It’s just the teeth, I think. I hope it doesn’t last long, ‘cause I’m super fucking tired”, Y/N stated, placing the baby on the stroller and handing her a chewing toy in the shape of a crescent moon. “I can’t imagine how tired you must be, baby”, she told Dean, reaching to the opposite side of the table where he sat to hold his hand.

“Don’t worry, Y/N/N. It’s the least I can do since you’re the one who has to get out of bed to feed her”, he smiled, leaning forward to kiss Y/N over the table.

“You two are disgustingly cute”, Sam joked, making a face at them.

Y/N laughed and stuck out her tongue at him. “What about you and Eileen, Sam? Any plans of having kids?”, she asked while eating.

“Man, let me tell you”, Dean interrupted, speaking before his brother could answer, “making a child is the easy part. The hard part is everything that comes after. But it’s so fucking worthed”, Dean winked at Y/N, making her and Sam chuckle at his brother’s honest advice.

“Yep. Even though I love Sophie with all my heart, babies are a handful. You must be really sure you want to be parents”, Y/N wisely advised, despite knowing Sam and Eileen’s child would probably be as sweet and chill as their parents.

“Well, we haven’t really talked about it yet. I know she wants to be a mom someday, and I wanna be a dad too, but I’m not sure we’re ready”, Sam explained, getting up and placing the dishes in the sink after quickly finishing his breakfast.

“You can always practice your parenting skills with Sophie, uncle Sam. You know she loves hanging out with you”, Y/N looked at her daughter with nothing but love in her eyes, tickling the baby’s legs to make her laugh.

“I love hanging out with her too”, the younger Winchester said, walking to Sophie’s stroller and kissing her forehead. “Guys, I’m gonna get going. Garth’s waiting for me to help him with that ghoul. See ya”.

“See ya, Sam. You take care”, Y/N told him, always worrying, even though she was a hunter herself.

“Yeah, Sammy, take care and tell Garth we said hi”, Dean got up and went to the doorway where Sam was, hugging his little brother and patting him on the back.

After Sam left, Dean went to clean the kitchen and wash the dishes, while Y/N took her time to breastfeed a hungry Sophie.

With the baby in her arms, Y/N got lost in her thoughts, looking at Sophie’s green eyes that looked so much like her father’s. She and Dean wanted to be parents for a long time. But with their lives as hunters, the couple was always careful, because they didn’t really know how to fit a kid in such a crazy, dangerous world. One night of carelessness was enough to show them they weren’t really in control. While Sam was at Eileen’s and they were alone in the bunker after drinking too much, Sophie was conceived. 

In spite of being drunk, both Dean and Y/N could remember exactly what a great night they had. Many of the bunker’s rooms were christened that day. A few months later, a pregnancy test confirmed Y/N’s suspicions. After the initial shock and a promise from Jack to look after the baby, they got really excited about the idea of having a kid.   

The bunker was mostly silent as Y/N fed Sophie and Dean cleaned up the place, the only noises coming from the clink of the dishware and the baby’s little noises while she ate. When she was finished, Y/N cradled her daughter and patted her lightly on the back to make her burp. The baby started rubbing her eyes with little fists and yawning, signs she was satisfied and ready to sleep. 

While cleaning, Dean kept stealing glances at his daughter and his wife. He had never imagined being so happy, so fulfilled with a family of his own. After they defeated Chuck, life got easier, their peace only being briefly interrupted by the occasional hunt. Even though monsters were still very real, moments of normalcy like these were finally possible. 

Seated on her chair at the kitchen table, Y/N caressed Sophie’s hand, lulling her until she fell asleep. Distracted, the woman only noticed Dean had sat beside her when she felt his arms circling her waist. She looked at him and smiled, seeing her expression of content mirrored on his beautiful face.

“She’s perfect, isn’t she?”, he asked, not really expecting an answer, knowing Y/N was as amazed by the human being they created together as he was.

“She is. She looks so much like you, Dean. Look at her eyes and those freckles. The Winchesters have strong genes”, Y/N admired.

“What are you talking about? She has your hair and your mouth, which worries the hell outta me, ‘cause it means she’ll grow up to be as beautiful as you, and I don’t want her dating before she turns 35”, Dean stated, looking dead serious. 

Y/N covered her mouth so her laugh wouldn’t wake Sophie up. “Gosh, Dean, poor Sophie! You're probably gonna scare all the boys and/or girls that come knocking at our door”. She turned her body to hug him, still laughing, her arms now circling his neck. “I love how protective you are of her, honey”, she kissed him softly, tasting coffee on his lips.

“I love you and our Sophie so, so much, baby”. Dean kissed Y/N again, pulling her body closer, arms around her waist and his big hands running up and down her back. 

Y/N felt tears burning her eyes. She had been feeling more emotional than usual since she gave birth to Sophie. Every small thing became a big deal to her, like the fact that she hadn’t lost all the pregnancy weight yet. It made her feel insecure about her body, so every time Dean told her he loved her, or complimented her appearance, she felt like crying. She hated being like this, but she knew it was her messy hormones fault and it would probably pass at some point. 

“Do you still love me even with how much my body has changed since Sophie?”, she asked, her voice thick with the tears she couldn’t hide anymore. Y/N felt an odd need for validation, something she didn’t before. She needed Dean to tell her everything would be fine, that she would be fine.

Holding his wife by her shoulders, Dean moved away from her so he could look her in the eyes. It wasn’t the first time he noticed she was overly emotional. “Sweetheart, what’s going on? Of course I love you. I will always love you. You’re gorgeous and perfect. You gave birth to our daughter just six months ago, of course your body has changed. And you still look amazing. Please, believe me”. He used his thumb to gently swipe the tears staining her cheeks.

“I love you too, Dean. I just- I just have been too emotional lately, it’s stupid. But I’m gonna be fine”. Y/N smiled through her tears, but Dean wasn’t 100% convinced.

“You sure, Y/N/N? If you need to talk, or I don’t know, get any help, I’m here for you, baby. I’ve read about postpartum depression if- if you think this might be the problem, we can get help-”.

“No, I don’t think that’s the problem, I think it’s just my body still adjusting to the change. But I promise I’ll tell you if it doesn’t get better. You’re the best”. Y/N hugged him again, Dean burying his face on the curve of her neck, kissing and rubbing his scruffed jaw against her sensitive skin, in a way trying to prove to her he wanted her as much as always. 

She held him there, running her fingers through his hair and enjoying the physical contact. Dean pulled her onto his lap, making her straddle him, her legs on the sides of his waist.  They just sat there, bodies intertwined, kissing and making out while Sophie slept soundly. 

After a while, Dean chuckled and shook his head. “You’re not gonna believe what I’m gonna tell you, you’re gonna think I’m just saying this ‘cause you’re feeling insecure, but I swear to you I’m not making this up”, he placed one hand on her naked thigh and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear with the other, admiring her kiss swollen lips and the blush on her cheeks. “While you were feeding Sophie, I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. God, Y/N, I swear on my life that I’ve never seen you look more beautiful. You’re just perfect. Remember how I couldn’t keep my hands to myself while you were pregnant?”, she nodded and he kept talking “I feel the same and that’s not gonna change. And the way you were looking at our baby girl… I - You know I’m not one to do romantic speeches, but I’m so madly in love with you. You two mean the world to me. I can’t believe I got so lucky to have you”. 

Now the tears were glistening on Dean’s eyes too, and despite her current insecurities, Y/N never doubted him for a second. She knew him very well, she knew he was a man of action. To express his love, he would cook for her, or buy her favorite icecream, or do their laundry, or record her favorite TV show when she wasn’t home to watch it. But for him to say those things, it was because his heart was full of love and it was pouring out of him, which only made the moment more special.

Y/N didn’t want to keep crying, so she held her tears and just grabbed Dean’s face and kissed him fiercely, with all the passion she had in her, tasting him with her tongue and biting his plump lower lip. She pressed her center against his crotch, making him groan and hold her ass to keep her from moving from that perfect spot.

“Jesus, darling. I got ya all fired up, didn’t I?”, Dean teased, making her chuckle.

“Yeah, you tell me those things and expect me to not get turned on?”. Y/N looked at him, his green eyes full of lust, his beauty amazing her as much as the first time she saw him.

“And why do you have to look so sexy wearing my robe, huh? I wanna take you to our bed and make another baby with you”. Dean ran his thumb over her lower lip, his eyes taking the beautiful woman in front of him, the love of his life.

“Oh, yeah? So that was your plan all along? To turn me on so you could get me pregnant again?”, she teased, already wet with expectation.

“Well, I think we should start practicing if we wanna give Sophie a little sister or brother. Also, you, naked? Amazing”, Dean pulled the sash to open the gray robe so he could reach inside and kiss Y/N’s chest and breasts.

“Ok, but only if you promise you’ll do that thing I like”, she naughtly pulled his face up to kiss him again, glad Sophie was still asleep and she and Dean could enjoy each other’s company for a while.

“Anything for you, baby girl. Anything”.

THE END

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

If you came this far, thank you for sticking up with me! I don’t have a tag list yet, but I’m gonna tag some lovely people who always support me with their likes, reblogs and comments. Please, if you don’t want to be tagged on future posts, just let me know! Or, if you weren’t tagged but want to be, you can message me too 😉

@dean-winchester-is-a-warrior , @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @charred-angelwings, @itsthemegacoven , @eevvvaa , @ejlovespie