#and like an upset toddler having his toy taken away and told he has to clean up

[blep-23]

So I have a ton of panels saved of Samon, for obvious reasons.

I’m pretty indifferent to Hajime but god, this panel is my favorite of him.

It’s too funny, the smoking, the walk, kenshirou calling him a yankee. It’s all *chef’s kiss*

[hornyhornyhimbos]

okay i know its not filthy friday, HOWEVER, i had the most genius eddie thought. Eddie acts all cool, but we all know he's less than smooth lmao, so i imagine he's gotten quite a few girls to come back to his trailer, but he doesnt last long enough to umm get his pants off? if you know what i mean lol, so technically even though he has had experiences with girls where he finished, he's still a "virgin"

so im thinking eddie and reader are dating but any time they get physical eddie stops it real quick cuz he doesn't wanna embarrassed himself again, but reader takes it as him not being into them and gets sad so he tells them he's a virgin and thats why he keeps stopping, cuz he cant last very long, but reader is like "Eddie you idiot, i am too. We'll probably have the same problem" and then dry humping ensues and they both have the same "Problem" hehehe

hi!!! i hope this is alright! it's not exactly the same as you requested but i do think it turned out really cute!

pov: your study date with eddie goes south... like way south ♡

18+ of course, semi-virgin!eddie x innocent!virgin!afab!reader, dry humping/thigh riding, slight handjobs maybe, use of a condom, nicknames (princess/baby), explicit language, reader maybe has strict parents, 1.5K whoops, beta read by @rupsmorge

filthy fridays | ask box

"eddie, are we ok?" you broke the silence that had taken over the air since the two of you had started studying.

he looked up from his history book with soft eyes. "of course, princess. why wouldn't we be?"

you swallowed down a lump of insecurity that had risen in your throat. "i just…"

"yeah?" his brows knitted together in some mixture of worry and confusion.

instead of just outright saying the words and asking why things seemed off, you did what any rational partner would do in your case: you waltzed over to his seat, sat in his lap, tugged at the hairs on his nape, and pulled him in for a long, lemonade-flavored kiss.

he stiffened as you first sat down, surprised by your sudden change in behavior, but quickly leaned into the kiss, his wide palms landing on your hips to hold you in place.

you broke away, met with the sight of a frown akin to one of a toddler who didn't get the toy they wanted at the store. "just wanted to make sure we were ok," you told him, doing your best to ignore how cute his lips looked when turned downward.

he nodded, leaning back up to meet you for another heady kiss, the musky smell of his cologne nearly taking your breath away as you took him all in.

you moved to straddle him, your core brushing ever so gently against his jeans, causing you to nearly shiver at the contact. "eddie," you mumbled against his lips, your fingers toying with the edges of his denim jacket.

"baby," he said, attempting to pull away from your needy hands. you met him with a pout similar to the one he previously wore. "we can't," he told you, like it was just as simple as that.

your arms crossed tightly in front of your chest. "and why not?" you tested, an eyebrow raising.

"i doubt you'll want it," he scoffed, his eyes darting away. it wasn't just as simple as that, and even if he thought he could hide it from you, you still saw right through his facade.

"try me."

"baby," he started to say, still not having made eye contact with you. "you don't want it, trust me."

you scoffed, pushing off of him and heading back to your spot, promptly cleaning up your things.

eddie watched as you moved around the table swiftly, shoving your books and pens back into your bag. "you don't have to leave," he said. his voice sounded genuinely upset, which confused you, to say the least.

"sounds to me like i need to," you huffed, zipping up your backpack quickly.

"princess-"

"don't 'princess' me, eddie," you argued, your eyes nearly rolling to the back of their sockets. "if you don't want me like that, just say it."

a tear nearly fell from his eyes as those horrible words fell from your tongue. "no, baby, i promise it isn't that."

you threw your bag over your shoulder, your eyes darting toward the front door behind him. "then what the hell is it?"

"i'm not…" his voice trailed off, his eyes falling to the floor once again.

"not what? not interested in me? because that's what it seems like," you said, your voice teetering on the edge of yelling.

his lips trembled as he forced out the words, "i'm not experienced, ok! there, i said it!"

you scoffed before tossing your bag down on the ground, then leaning up and pulling eddie in for a sweet, romantic kiss. almost as if a juxtaposition to the other kisses, this one was slow, like your lips were taking all the time they needed to memorize every crack and divot of his mouth.

he pulled away, a confused and ashamed expression overtaking his otherwise bold, chiseled face. "what was that for?" he asked quietly, like if he said it any louder, his voice would crack or fizzle away.

"you're not the only one who needs some work in that department, you know." it was the first time you'd ever admitted it to someone, somehow it still felt like a shock to yourself.

his hands slipped down to your waist again, kneading the soft skin as a sideways smile appeared on his face. "would you like to… help me learn?"

you looked away, though a sly smirk betrayed you and formed on your lips anyway. "i suppose i did come over for a study date."

a string of giddy chuckles fell from his lips as he pulled you toward his bedroom, slamming the door behind himself as you settled on the bed. he fiddled with the fastening of his belt, an almost too eager look sitting on his face.

"hey," you stopped him, wrapping a hand around his wrist. "shouldn't we figure out how we wanna go about this?"

"you're right," he said, moving swiftly to sit at your side. "what position do you want to try first?"

you giggled, placing a hand softly on his leg. "no, i just mean…" your voice trailed off as you climbed onto his lap once again, your legs straddling either side of him. "do you want to take this slow? take our time with this? or do you wanna just get in there, so to speak?"

his eyes fell away from your gaze, but you quickly met his chin with a thumb and pulled him back up to meet your eyes. "i only ever… one time with a girl. and i… in my pants before she ever even… yeah."

it didn't take a rocket scientist to fill in the gaps, but you still met his lips for another needy kiss anyway. "it's perfectly," you paused for a quick kiss, your hands moving to pull away his belt, "ok with me. just wanna," you stopped for yet another kiss, "make sure you feel good."

unbeknownst to you, eddie nearly came in his pants right then. he watched as you situated yourself on his thigh, your core rubbing against his jeans as you worked at pulling him out of his boxers.

"condom?" you managed to ask, your lips parting from his as you took in the sight of his cock.

you'd never seen a cock before, being a virgin and all, but you imagined there were none prettier than eddie's. it was thick, and long, and the prettiest color you could've ever imagined it to be. you weren't sure how eddie ended up being blessed in all those aspects, but you sure weren't complaining.

he let out a chuckle as you went back to humping his leg, your body feeling heavy and pleasured. your hand slid down his cock, the pre-cum warm under your hand.

he reached over to the nightstand and struggled to pull out a condom from the top drawer, his whole body sensitive from the work of your skillful hands. he tore the packet open, but you quickly stopped him before he could put it on. with pouty lips, you asked, "can i?"

"shit, princess," he sighed, watching as you took the rubber from his hand. you slowly rolled it on, your hips rocking all the while.

an unfamiliar feeling ripped through you as your hand slid up his covered dick. "fuuuuuck!" you let out, your cunt riding out this strange feeling on his leg.

almost in sync, your hand had barely finished rolling the condom on and eddie was letting out a string of profanities. "shitshitshit," he called out, his hand wrapping around yours to help you work him through his own high. "at least she got it out this time," he thought, the only clear thought in his otherwise messy, blissed out brain.

your hips snapped against his leg, and you basked in this feeling you'd never known before. "eddie, what's-" you got out, cutting yourself off with a moan.

"shit, princess," he whined, his chest heaving in sync with every sloppy pump of his (and your) hand. "did so well for your first time."

"is that what that was?" you asked, gasping for air.

his eyes shot open, his movements on his cock stilling. "what?"

"i've never…" this time you looked away, your cheeks heated as his gaze fell on you.

he lifted a hand to your chin, pulling you back to meet his eyes again. "you've never had an o before?"

you shook your head softly, taking in his amazed, glassy eyes.

"you're nineteen and you've never had an o?" he asked, his eyebrows raised so far up, they nearly touched his hairline.

you shook your head, your lips forming into an awkward, thin line.

"have you ever touched yourself?" he asked, and you shook your head again. "not even a little?" still, the same answer. "you haven't fingered yourself?" nope. "not even played with your clit a little bit?"

you exhaled, your face burning with embarrassment as your palms flew to hide it. "no, eddie. my parents always-"

"said it was bad for you?" he finished your statement, pulling your hands away from your face. you met him with a slow nod of your head.

he gripped your hips, flipping the two of you over. "well, baby," he started, pausing to pull down your panties and shove his head under your skirt, "we've got a lot to cover during this study session."

-> taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @rupsmorge @esoltis280

[vodkapuppy]

filthy!

i didn't have a creative title :(

CWs: implied csa, ptsd nightmare

wc: uh... i forgot, 500+

I used a spell checker and my friend has read it, also, saeed and eze are my friends ocs! um i dont know if that's proofreading

Levent jolted up, a strained gasp leaving his mouth, sweat pooling on the back of his neck and upper back. It felt cool and sticky, making the tank top stick to his back, his tangled hair, draped on his sticky neck, cling on the sides of his neck, lingering near his shoulders. He curled in on himself, a fatal position. He pressed his face into his knees, his left hand quickly moving to pick at old, scabby scar on his lower leg.

"Mmmhh..." he whined, and fuck, he sounded like a stupid baby. Like a little toddler who got his favorite toy taken away. Like a bratty child who was told he can't eat candy for dinner. That's not what he was, though, no. He wasn't a child. He wasn't a baby. He was never a child and he never will be. Children don't do what he does. They're innocent and they're kind and they're pure. Levent never was any of that.

And it's far, far too late to fix it now. All you can do is dwell. And cry. And sulk. And lie. Just to make yourself feel better. Pathetic, isn't it? It's disgusting. What if Saeed knew? Or Ezequiel? What would they say? They'd probably stare at him with pure disgust, anger— like he's a dirt stain on a white blouse. He squeezes his eye shut to the point pain starts to prickle at his eyelids, but it still doesn't hurt as much as it does when he imagines their faces. He'll pollute them, maybe he already has. He won't let himself do it further.

He choked out a sob, so, so painfully. It stings and it burns his throat and the pain stays there, it doesn't leave. The memories don't leave, either. They locked in his brain, they flashed over and over. He could feel everything on his body, too: the cold air (despite the fact that it was over 40°c, cold air caressed his body meanly), his client's warm breath, tickling his face and the condescending voice of his client, mocking to his ears.

"Such a pretty girl. Too bad I can't have you forever."

Gross, gross, gross. He uncurls himself and flumps down on the bed with a small huff, staring at the celling. He can't cry, he won't cry! He's not weak, he wanted this. He made himself dirty. He made himself broken. He can't be upset when he's at fault. That's very unruly, is it not? Yet still, tears burn his eyes and wet his cheeks and stupid, squeaky, weak sobs start to wrech his throat and he slowly starts to realize how it all puts his defenselessness, his weakness on display, pretty for everyone to see, to witness, to make fun of. And he deserves it, really.

"Fi- filthy..." Levent chokes out a whisper to himself, resulting in louder sobs, "filthy, filthy Yilmaz. Filthy- disgusting boy." His words slowly fall into sobs, loud, wrecking his body. "You kno- know what you did, Yilmaz. Filthy. Unworthy," he barely manages to say, angrily kicking the nearest thing off his bed. It happens to be a bat plushie.

[twdeadfanfic]

Bonded to you Pt.1

Daryl Dixon x Reader

Chapter: 1/17

Summary:  Daryl and reader had a something while they both stayed at the Sanctuary after the Saviours were defeated, a secret sort of relationship, that reader wanted to make something more. However, after Rick blows the bridge, Daryl leaves her without a word, unaware of her being pregnant with his child and it’s not after almost two years that Daryl finds out he has a child…and his anger at reader for not having told him before, rivals with reader’s anger at having being tossed aside as nothing by him those to years ago.

Dad Daryl, cute fluffy baby-toddler moments, angsty reader relationship.

You can find more Daryl fics in my masterlist.

The warmth of a body next to yours as you woke up was not surprising anymore, but the fact that the warmth came from Daryl always was. You still couldn’t believe that he’d sleep next you night in night out, that you both were…well, you didn’t know what you might be, but still, you appreciated this level of intimacy.

You felt Daryl stir as he woke up, and you tightened your hold on him. He was sleeping curled up, the same way he slept almost every night, and your arm was around him. He turned onto his back, blinking his eyes open and looking at you, grunting quietly something you didn’t understand.

“Morning,” you greeted, smiling. Daryl just nodded, sitting up on the bed and reaching out for his boots. “You’ll be careful today, right?” You asked while he put on his boots, stroking the hair at the back of his head. He was leaving for a run, a big and important one, with lots of other people, to a museum in Atlanta. You knew how skillful he was, but still, you worried nonetheless.

Daryl nodded again, looking at you over his shoulder. “Yeah,” he said, voice still raspy. He made to get up, but then he turned to look at you again, leaning to give your cheek a quick, soft peck, before he got up and walked out of your room.

You let out a sigh, covering your eyes with your arm. What were Daryl and you, you wondered…certainly not what you really wanted you both to be…but more than you had dared to hope for, even if you hadn’t been able to stop your daydreams.

You had been living in Alexandria when he arrived, and soon you had found yourself crushing on that quiet, dark, mysterious…and well, really handsome guy. You had overcome your shyness to try to get to know him, half hoping that maybe once you knew him better, it’d break your crush, but oh boy…hadn’t it been the opposite.

It had been difficult and more than once your advances hadn’t seemed too welcomed, but over time, Daryl and you had become friends, and you had won his trust. You had made sure to keep quiet about your crush, though, not wanting to lose his hard-earned trust, sure he wouldn’t return your feelings. At least, until Rick had sent him to the Sanctuary, that horrible place where he had been tortured, and you had known you needed to go with him.

Daryl’s mood hadn’t been the best in there…it still wasn’t, but it was better. He used to snap at everyone, he was always angry, but you also knew he was traumatized, you knew what he had gone through in there, and you hated how you couldn’t do anything to help.

He had snapped at you, once, when you had complained about being scared of the way some saviors looked at you, yelling at you that then maybe you should go back home and, asking why you had gone there in the first place, and to just take your stuff and leave. Now you knew he had been worried, but back then, you had been broken-hearted at his outburst, and trying not to cry you had babbled to him how you were there because you worried for him, because you didn’t want him to be alone in the place where he’d been tortured, and because you’d miss him if he was away.

Daryl had seemed taken aback and you had felt so embarrassed and awkward that you had run away and hid in your room. Later, though, he had gone to your room and had actually apologized for snapping and had even thanked you for being there for him. And you…well, having him talk softly to you, thanking you, looking at you with kindness…you couldn’t help yourself from maybe ruining the situation and confessing that you also were there because you liked him.

It didn’t seem you hadn’t ruined anything, though, Daryl didn’t snap, didn’t seem angry or awkward, even though he was silent, looking down. Anxiously, you had waited for him to say anything, but he didn’t, instead, he walked to you and sat down next to you on the bed, still silent.

You hadn’t known what to say, still nervous, but then Daryl had looked at you and leaned in. You had thought he was going to kiss you, but he hadn’t, instead he had rested his forehead on yours, and it was so sweet, all your nerves had melted away while butterflies danced in your belly…and then, when you had dared to kiss his lips softly and he had kissed back, your heart had gone crazy…

And there you were now…still unsure about what Daryl and you were.

You knew he cared about you, in his own way, he made sure you were alright, and he treated you with care and kindness…but something else, something more? You weren’t sure.

Daryl liked to be with you, and he looked for comfort in you, in that horrible place, you knew it. He looked for you, waited for you two to be alone so you’d kiss him and hug him, and talk to him, listen to him. He joined you in your bed most times, snuggling to you or curling up with you holding him. But you weren’t certain he loved you in the way you loved him, and he didn’t seem interested in having an actual relationship, or that’s how it seemed most of the time. You didn’t even know. Even in the very couple of times that you two had had sex, he’d still seemed to look more from comfort than anything else.

Not that you didn’t enjoy to hold him, comfort him, and take care of him, and in return, having him do the same for you. But you were in love with him, and you couldn’t help but wish to have more. If only you knew what Daryl wanted too, what were his feelings, what he thought of all these…you knew you both needed to talk about it, but you didn’t look forward to it, afraid of how it could go, and of it maybe meaning you’d lose whatever you had with Daryl, and it seemed he didn’t look forward to it either.

You let out a sigh. There was no time to wonder about all that now, there was always shit to do at the Sanctuary, and with Daryl out, you wanted to do as many tasks as possible, take work off his already too heavy shoulders before he came back.

*

It was late in the day when Daryl came back, but not only him, also Rick, Michonne, Carol, the King, and some others…and looking at their faces and at how Daryl snapped at everyone, something bad must have happened. While Rick was giving one of those speeches of him, you quietly slipped close to Daryl, placing a hand on his arm and startling him until he realized it was you.

“What’s wrong?” You whispered.

“We lost a kid, from Hilltop,” Daryl rasped back, and you knew he was sad and upset, you could notice it, even if he was trying to contain it. You wanted to hug him, to kiss him, to comfort him, but you two didn’t show that kind of physical affection in front of people, and you still weren’t sure if Daryl didn’t want people to know that you two had…whatever you two had.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, squeezing his arm, your fingers lingering on his skin for a little longer than necessary, and he didn’t say anything else.

You were glad to see your old friends, you barely got to see them anymore now, but everything was tense and awkward after everything that had happened and at the Sanctuary situation, and so soon after dinner, you excused yourself and went to bed.

You waited for Daryl, he usually joined you, and you thought he needed some comfort after what had happened today, but you waited and waited and he didn’t, even when everything went silent around you. Any other night, you might have let him be, but you didn’t want him to be alone when you knew he was upset after a death like that and so you got up, and went looking for him.

As you had done some other times, you found him tinkering with a bike in the garage, doing you didn’t know what. He looked at you when the door opened, relaxing when he saw it was you, focusing back on the bike. You walked behind him and reached up to place your hands on his shoulders, rubbing.

“Are you okay?”

“You ask me that when we just lost a kid,” Daryl snapped and you muttered a sorry, but he looked at you, seeming to regret it, and he leaned to kiss you cheek. You slide your hands from his shoulders down his back, wrapping your arms around his middle, hugging him.

“Come to bed with me,” you whispered. “Please?” Daryl seemed hesitant, but finally he nodded and you held his hand, walking him to your bedroom.

Once there, you pushed him to lie down on the bed and you sat down straddling his hips. You looked at his face illuminated by the candlelight, running your fingers over his cheek, thinking once again how unfair it was that he always looked so handsome. Daryl nuzzled into your touch and you couldn’t help your smile.

“Maggie, she can’t be having-” he began, but you shushed him pressing a finger to his lips.

“No, stop.” You thought Daryl would snap, but he didn’t, not even when you removed your finger from his lips, and you traced his face with it softly. “Don’t think about that now. Just for a few hours. You need to sleep.” He slept too little, and you worried.

Daryl just hummed, closing his eyes briefly before opening them again, and you had the feeling his mind wasn’t going to shut down easily that night. You brought your hands to his chest and hesitantly, you toyed with the buttons of his shirt, waiting for Daryl’s reaction. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t push you or stopped you when you began opening the buttons.

You ran your hands over the skin of his belly, up to his chest, looking at him, still unsure about him being on board with this. You leaned over him, kissing his lips softly before whispering into his ear, “Is this okay?” Instead of answering, Daryl sat up with you still on his lap, wrapping his arms around you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, letting out a content sigh when Daryl nuzzled into your neck, holding you tight. You thought you would never get used to it, to how tight he held you, the way he liked to snuggle, to be held, things you hadn’t really expected from him, not until you knew him alone like that.

You pushed his shirt off him, brushing one of your hands up his back, stroking warm skin and old scars, humming when he began placing soft kisses across your neck, his hand running under your own shirt…

*

Later that night, you were snuggled to Daryl’s chest, and you had almost fallen asleep when you heard him speak. “I told Rick I want to leave.”

It was no surprise, you knew how much Daryl hated it in here, what was surprising was why he had said yes to come here in the first place, but you knew he was always trying to help. “And what did he say?”

“Doesn’t want me to, said he ain’t got no one else to spare and sent here, or else wants me to help in Alexandria,” Daryl scoffed…yeah, you knew well why neither him nor Maggie would step in Alexandria.

“He can’t force you to stay here,” you said, looking up from Daryl’s chest. Rick might lead Alexandria, but he couldn’t force Daryl to do something he didn’t want, or you, or anyone else. “If you want to leave, then you should.”

“Yeah? Who’s gonna keep this shit place going then? Ain’t like Rostia and Eugine are here ‘cause they like it either, I go, bet they go too…”

“It’s Rick’s who wants to help this place, hence is problem. Not yours,” you said, and Daryl just hummed. You knew he wouldn’t do something that could damage his friends, though, and so you knew he’d stay, no matter what, and who knew what could happen if you left the saviors on his own again.

“Place’s gonna fall down sooner or later anyway, no matter shit what I do…” He murmured and you took his hand, kissing his knuckles before placing his arm around you and snuggling onto his chest again, caressing his skin gently, you didn’t know what else you could say that could help him, so you hope you could at least bring him some comfort.

Soon, though, you felt Daryl growing restless under you, and then he was carefully shifting you to lie on the pillow. You groaned, opening your sleepy eyes and reaching for him. “Where you going?”

“Smoke,” he rasped. “Sleep.”

You hummed, hugging the pillow to you and letting out a sigh before falling asleep…you didn’t feel like you were making a good job helping Daryl ease his worries that night…

*

You woke when you felt Daryl getting into the bed again. You couldn’t be sure, but you thought you had slept for a long while, and the candles were already off, though for some reason Daryl was lighting them again to illuminate the room. “Took you long enough…” you murmured sleepily, curling up with your back to Daryl so the light of the candles wouldn’t bother you, to try and fall asleep again, but it seemed Daryl had other plans.

“Y/N,” he called quietly, running his fingers through your hair before pulling at you gently to make you roll and look at him. “Hey.”

“What?” You frowned, confused, as you blinked your eyes open.

“I was with Carol, she heard me speaking with Rick. Said she’s gonna stay here, take over the place for me, won’t let me say not.”

“Yeah?” You were sure that Rick would trust Carol to keep the Sanctuary in line. “That’s good.” You reached out to caress Daryl’s cheek, you knew how unhappy he was there, how much he wanted to leave.

“Hhmm hmm.” He nodded. “I’ll leave tomorrow to Hilltop.”

So he’d leave tomorrow…and you? You had gone to the Sanctuary only because of Daryl, you had no business in there, neither you cared for the place. You wanted to be wherever he was, with him. But what did Daryl want? He wasn’t saying anything…

Insecurity crept on you, as so often it did, you couldn’t help it. Yes, you knew you two weren’t a couple, that you two weren’t really together, but still…you slept next to each other, held each other, almost every night. You were there for him when he needed it, and he’d been there for you. Did that mean nothing? He would just leave you there without a second thought? You wanted to know what he thought about the whole thing.

“What do you want me to do?” You asked.

“Whatever you want.” Daryl shrugged without looking at you, doing nothing to ease your insecurities.

“But what you want me to do.” You insisted, more nervous than what you’d realized.

“You gotta do whatever you want.” He was still not looking at you, and it was rubbing you the wrong way.

“Daryl, I’m asking, answer me, what do you want me to do?” You shifted to sit in front of him, trying to get him to look at you, and he did glare at you.

“You want me ordering you around now like I’m your boss?” He scoffed, and insecure or not, you were starting to feel agitated.

“No, Daryl, I’m not saying that, I’m asking you, what do you want me to do!” You snapped.

“And I’m telling you, you do whatever the hell you want!” Daryl snapped back, getting on your nerves.

“Whatever the hell I want, okay, okay, sure…” You kicked the sheet off you, frustrated, and got up, trying to stop all those feelings, all those voices in your head that were making you feel awful, telling you that Daryl didn’t give a shit about what you might do, about not seeing you again. “Could go to Oceanside and sunbathe on the beach, why the hell not…what do I want? I want not to be in this shit place!”

“Then what are you doing here?” Daryl snapped again and you scoffed, shaking your head in disbelieve as you felt just angrier, your heart filling with sorrow.

“You know what I’m doing here.”

“I never asked you to come!”

“Oh, I know, I do know…” You nodded, turning away from him as you suddenly felt like crying. “You didn’t care what I did, I understand. I was no one.” You had been a friend, sure, but he had better friends. You had just been another Alexandrian. “But I thought things were different now. That you and I…” You shook your head without finishing your sentence. You had been so stupid, thinking Daryl might feel something for you, something else, something more… “But you don’t care, you’d leave and you wouldn’t care about what I do or if we don’t see each other again.”

“You know it ain’t like that…” Daryl murmured but you just scoffed, rubbing your eyes.

“You won’t give a shit what I do.” That was all you knew, all you felt, at that moment.

Daryl didn’t say anything, and you tried to get a hold of you, take control of your emotions. You were about to just leave the room when you heard Daryl letting out a long sigh and getting up from the bed, but you couldn’t look at him. Then you felt his arms around you, pulling you to him until his chest was against you back, his chin on your shoulder. “You know I’m thankful you came with me,” he murmured. “You know I give a shit,” he pressed a soft, hesitant kiss to your shoulder and you wondered if you knew. You guessed you did, but sometimes it was hard.

You turned on his arms to look at him. “Would you care if you leave and I stay here, or if I go to Alexandria or somewhere else where you aren’t?” You asked, voice small and tight. “Would you even miss me?” You forced yourself to ask, even if it made you feel embarrassed, shy, and stupid.

“’course I’d miss you,” Daryl whispered.

“Really? Don’t say it just because…” You couldn’t help but feel insecure, feel as if he might be saying it just so you would stop making a scene, but Daryl nodded, looking at you, eyes sincere.  “Okay…” you whispered, giving him a small, sad smile, insecure still.

“But you don’t gotta do shit just because of me. You didn’t have to come to this shit place just ‘cause of me. Don’t have to go anywhere just ‘cause me,” he said, still sounding sincere, and you shook your head, smiling sadly again.

“I know. But I want to…’cause…” Because you loved him, but you weren’t going to say that. “’Cause I like to be with you…and because I care for you…” You shrugged, biting your lip.

“You know I care for you too…” Daryl murmured, taking you by surprise when he leaned to hold his forehead on yours, you couldn’t help but melt whenever he did that, no matter what. “I like to be with you too…” he whispered.

Daryl had said that he’d miss you…that he cared for you, liked to be with you. It was more than you had gotten from him in your time together, even if he showed you that he cared in his way, showed you that he might enjoy your time together, it wasn’t the same reassurance as hearing it. You were sure you’d never stop feeling insecure, you knew you’d never stop feeling that twinge in your heart at his feelings not being the same as yours, you knew that you’d never stop wondering when might be the day he’d decide to move on from you. But you would take whatever he wanted to give you. You would enjoy whatever you had, while it lasted.

You cupped his cheeks to lift his head and look at him. “I want to go to Hilltop with you,” you said quietly and Daryl nodded, the corner of his mouth tugging into a smile. “Because I don’t want to be here. But also because I want to still be where you are…wherever that is.”

You felt shy again, embarrassed and a bit like an idiot too, saying something like that, and before Daryl could say anything, you kissed him, afraid of what he might say. He pulled you even closer as he kissed you back in that way he did sometimes that always managed to make you forget all your insecurities, worries, and fears for a while.

Eventually, you pulled back, taking his hand to guide you both back to bed. “Didn’t mean to make you upset,” Daryl murmured as he leaned over you on the bed, running his hand through your hair, looking at you in that soft way, as if he always knew what to do to make you melt, even if you knew he didn’t realize it.

“I know…I’m sorry…I just…” You shrugged, helplessly. You didn’t know how to explain it to him.

“No, I’m sorry,” he apologized too. “I didn’t mean to…to make you feel that way…just…” He seemed helpless too and you placed your finger over his lips. You wanted you both to stop apologizing. You didn’t want to think about it anymore, afraid that all your insecurities would creep right back in…and when Daryl looked at you in that way he did, you just couldn’t stop yourself from believing him when he said he cared, when he said he liked to be with you…you couldn’t help but love him like you did, even if it hurt too.

You removed your finger from his lips, instead running it across his cheek. “I know how you can make it up to me…” You murmured, pulling him closer again to kiss his lips, glad when you felt him smiling as he kissed you back.

*

First chapter of my new long series! I know, not baby yet, but first I had to get the girl pregnant, haha.

If you liked this and have a moment, please let me know your thoughts in a comment. Your comments, likes and reblogs inspire me to keep going when Iike giving up!

I want to give a special thanks to @ddixons-angel​ for listening to me when I got stuck writing this and helping me see reader’s side of things when I’m always too much in Daryl’s mind, and for giving me advice and not complaining when I end up doing whatever I want anyway.

As always, excuse my english, is not my first language.

If you want to be (un)tagged let me know.

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[ooops-i-arted]

I know that considering (TCW-2008) refs/characters in this episode that it won’t be your fav but can you please share your child development thoughts for S02E05 please??

They may have been stuff I wasn’t fond of but there were so many cute Baby & Dad moments to make up for it!!

First of all, the puppeteers deserves ALL THE AWARDS for bringing Baby Yoda to life!  Not just making Baby “come alive” in general, but also that sort-of-awkward way children move when they don’t have complete confidence in their limbs yet.  The are doing a phenomenal job this season and I hope they are all safe and healthy and have all the chocolate they want.  Not only is it fantastic from a special effects perspective, it really highlights how far Baby has come now that he’s not stuck in a pod all day and implies that Din is trying to keep him active and physically healthy, and giving him opportunities to develop his muscles and muscle control.  (Just imagine them playing a makeshift game of chase through the Razor Crest!)

I absolutely loved Din saying “Hey, what did I tell you” because I have said those exact words in that exact tone SO MANY TIMES and also his Dad Voice is getting so much better!  Baby actually listens to him and understands that Din expects him to listen!  Of course he still wants the ball (and apparently takes it enough that Din has been practicing his Dad voice on that too, “What did I say about that” is another phrase I also use at work).

Though there may have been another reason he wants the ball this time - as a comfort item, like a child bringing their favorite stuffie to the first day of school.  Baby was there when the Armorer told Din to find Jedi to bring the Baby to.  He has been listening a lot when Din talks about finding Jedi to train him and give him to.  I think Baby is very, very aware of the fact that the end goal is to leave him with the Jedi and is very afraid of leaving his beloved father.  He would’ve had stable caretaker(s) at the Jedi Temple but in the last twenty years who knows what’s happened to him.  His subdued, don’t-draw-attention-to-myself behavior in Season 1 definitely makes me think he’s been neglected, bare minimum, and possibly abused.  Din not only treats him kindly but actually takes care of his needs, is kind to him, and is the most stable presence in his life.  Of course he’d be terrified to leave him!

I think that’s also why he doesn’t play ball with Ahsoka, so to speak.  We all know he can lift a mudhorn, a rock is no problem for him.  He could do it in a heartbeat.  But I think he understood that if he showed off for her, Ahsoka might take him away.  So he refused for that, and because it’s very common at that age to refuse to do something to regain control of a situation.  (That’s why you get kids enjoying telling you “No!” and the whole terrible twos thing.)  If he refuses, he stays in control of what’s happening.  But of course Din knows exactly how to tempt him with his favorite ball, and kids do want to please adults they like.  Anything to hear that sweet, sweet positive reinforcement.  So it wasn’t just the shiny ball that convinced Baby - it was the fact that Din was the one playing with him, and that Din so enthusiastically tells him good job.  (And Din is noticeably more into it when using the orb.  Maybe he and Baby have played with it before?  So it’s more natural to both of them.  And he was truly so proud of his boy!!  It was adorable.)

It’s the same with hearing his real name, which he presumably hasn’t heard in twenty years.  He responds when Ahsoka says it, but when Din says it?  He’s instantly turned around, ears perked all the way up in “happy” mode.  It’s special when Din says it, because Din is special to him.

Which then ties into the whole attachment thing.  Baby is very healthily attached to Din.  There’s a reason we stick kids with the same teacher for a year plus at a time, it’s because kids are comfortable with a regular person they can get to know, just like adults are.  To Baby, Ahsoka is just some orange stranger and Din is his dad.  Of course he is more attached to Din and has fears over losing him, especially if he’s been deprived of that for the last 20-odd years!  It’d be different if Din was sticking around to transition Baby somewhere new, or just dropping him off for lessons.  But leaving a parent permanently and abruptly after likely previous trauma?  That would be horrible for Baby.

And re: The Jedi + attachments Ahsoka (and Filoni) are wrong on that.  The Jedi do not forbid attachments, only letting your attachments rule you.  Ki-Adi-Mundi is married and so were others, and there are plenty of Padawan-Master relationships to see - for example, Obi-Wan was attached to Qui-Gon and clearly loved him and was devastated by his loss, but it’s only when he conquers his emotions and calms himself is he able to defeat Maul, and afterward is implied/shown to mourn Qui-Gon and handle his grief in a healthy way.  Anakin doesn’t fall because he’s attached to his loved ones.  He falls because he’s willing to commit murder and genocide over his attachments.  So “I can’t teach Grogu because he’s attached to you” is bullshit.  “I can’t teach Grogu because he is attached to you and needs to be safely transitioned into Jedi life in an environment that is comfortable and safe for him, with your help as his adoptive father, and I have no way to do that here and/or don’t feel comfortable doing that” is much more accurate.  (This is probably what would’ve happened if the Order was still around, anyway, and/or how he was actually taken in - the 3D TCW episode with the Jedi children shows the bounty hunters tricking the parents to kidnap the kids, implying that a real Jedi would work with the family to transition the children in a safe and healthy manner.  The Rodian even says the Jedi have already spoken to her iirc.)

Of course even if Grogu is unhealthily attached to Din (which he isn’t, imo, he behaves like a child at a normal level of attachment to a regular caretaker he loves) then ignoring it and not doing anything about it is equally bad.... as we’ve already seen when he got upset with Cara last season.  Baby must learn to control his powers so he doesn’t hurt himself or others, especially since he’s so young he doesn’t always have full control over his own emotions.  “Big” emotions can be a lot for a kid; a screaming meltdown is bad enough when the kid can’t yeet you with their mind.  I’ve been hit, kicked, bitten, scratched, had toys thrown at me, even been hit with heavy wooden blocks.  A Grogu out of control with his emotions and using the Force?  Terrifying.  Yes, his attachment to Din makes him more vulnerable to his fears and anger - we’ve seen him choke Cara and while he only held back the mudhorn, in theory he could’ve done more.  But that is just all the more reason to teach him control.  Ignore harmful behavior and it will only get worse, and Din isn’t really equipped to help him navigate that since Din doesn’t understand the Force and can’t understand what Grogu says.

(Also lol at “He doesn’t understand” “He does.”  You can 100% tell when kids understand you perfectly and are refusing to do it, even when a parent is making excuses for their darling. xD  Especially since kids will frequently act/react differently to their parents versus other caretakers.)

“He’s hidden his abilities to survive over the years” I call partial bullshit on that.  No, I don’t think Baby has done any long-term planning or had thoughts along the lines of “I’m being hunted and need to protect myself by pretending not to be a Force-user.”  But I think he has probably figured out people react a certain way when he does Force things and perhaps decided “I shouldn’t make things float because then people will grab me/I will get taken away/other consequence I don’t like will happen.”  That’s more in line with a toddler’s level of thinking/comprehension.  And it adds greater weight to him saving Din from the mudhorn - he didn’t know how Din would react to him using the Force, if Din would try and hurt him or lock him in the pod or whatever, but he still wanted to save Din.  Overall though I think Baby’s Force-use is in line with a toddler’s thoughts.  “I want X to happen, I can make that happen with the Force, so I will make X happen unless I’m more scared of [consequence] happening.”

So overall a pretty revealing episode for Baby/Grogu.  (I’m not used to the new name yet tbh.)  Although I’m worried about how many times it will take Din hearing it to realize that yes, you are this baby’s father, get that through your beskar-plated skull.

[knickynoo]

I loved your recent post about Marty and his ADHD! It was soo spot on. And, I saw in the tags that you mentioned Alex Keaton and how you believe he’s not neurotypical either. Care to elaborate? Do you have any headcanons about neurodivergent™ Alex? I’d love to hear your thoughts! :)

Oh, hey, thank you! Marty having ADHD seems to be one of the most common headcanons in the fandom, so that post was a lot of fun to work on.

As far as Alex goes...yes, I will elaborate, BUT I'm putting it under a cut because ya girl is really going to E L A B O R A T E.

I've mentioned before that I think Alex's overall personality/demeanor comes from a variety of different places. Some parts of who he is are likely caused by all the pressure put on him to be a high achiever, due to being so academically gifted from a young age. Other parts are due to being overly coddled and spoiled by Elyse and Steven. Still, there's probably a part of Alex that genuinely enjoys being difficult and getting a rise out of people. Then, there's the obvious anxiety he struggles with, which even MJF has talked about in some interviews when discussing how he approached playing a guy like Alex.

"Giftedness" & anxiety are already included under the umbrella of neurodiversity but in Alex's case, I actually think there's even more to it than that. Yeah, Alex is a funny character whose actions/words are so often played for laughs. He can also be a really irksome character when he's dishing out the sarcasm and being selfish. But I also can't help but look at Alex and think, This guy is just so not NT and he is struggling, somebody Help Him. And since Alex P. Keaton is one of my favorite characters AND I love to analyze/ do deep dives AND the topic of neurodiversity is a particularly strong interest of mine... well, here you go....

Mans is autistic.

• Difficulty with social cues and "reading the room". Seriously, there are so many instances of everyone around him all being on the same page about something or dealing with something serious, and Alex walks in and just proceeds to miss every single cue people throw his way. Two scenes that pop into my head, in particular, are the Reflective Pajamas one and the Clam Puff one, lol.

• He frequently struggles with putting himself in other people's shoes: Alex is certainly shown to be a compassionate person. He can recognize when people are hurting and will do the right thing, but sometimes he needs some help to get there. It seems that a lot of the time, all he knows is how he feels or thinks about something, and it doesn't occur to him that another person could be experiencing it differently. Then, once Steven, Elyse, Ellen, etc, break the situation down for him and explicitly say things like, Hey, that person's feelings are hurt because... or Here is the exact reason this person is angry... Alex is finally able to connect the dots, which usually leads to him being like, I hadn't ever thought about that/ I didn't mean it. (Of course, there are also times where Alex is just purposely being a jerk, but I'm not focusing on those)

• Specific, intense interests: Politics & economics, obviously. It's made well-known that Alex has been completely fixated on these two areas since he was a toddler. He's prone to enthusiastic, overly detailed discourse on the topics and either doesn't care or can't pick up on when people are growing bored at listening to him.

• Also, can we talk about how it's established that Alex's favorite toy as a little kid was a box? Like, he carried it everywhere, played with it, slept with it, and was devastated when it fell apart. Idk, I know kids can be attached to random objects, but it's just interesting that Alex is noted as having been enamored with a box. I'm just picturing little Alex, ignoring all the toys he has in favor of just sitting and staring at a box, and his parents are like, Yeah, this is normal.

• Highly intelligent, bordering on genius/prodigy (He was doing long-division at like, 3 years old) but has difficulty connecting with peers & making friends: This is most prominently shown in "A, My Name is Alex," where we see glimpses of various events in his childhood. In the scene where Alex meets Greg, we learn that Alex spends recess inside, helping the teacher plan her lessons rather than going out to socialize with his classmates. He's bewildered at Greg's invitation to come play, meaning he likely spent the majority of his childhood on his own due to being considered an outcast by his peers and just generally relating more easily to adults. (He also mentions taking night classes at a local college at age SEVEN. So like. If the long-division story and night class thing are taken to be actual facts of Alex's childhood...we're looking at something similar to hyperlexia/hypernumeracy here. This kid must have been bored out his mind having to sit through elementary school if he was that advanced)

• Very literal at times/ misses sarcasm: Interestingly enough, APK is very fond of being sarcastic but doesn't do so well when he's on the receiving end of it. Someone will make a joke or spin the sarcasm towards him for once, and he'll either just stare blankly like ???? or smile/thank them and they're like, Yeah, that wasn't a compliment, or, I was kidding.

• Black and white/ inflexible thinking: This might be the biggest one. Alex is super concerned with rules and ensuring that everyone is following them correctly. There's right and there's wrong, with no gray areas or middle ground as far as he's concerned. My favorite instance of this is in the episode where the family goes to visit Steven's mother and Rob, Alex's uncle, is telling a story of how Steven got in trouble as a kid for refusing to put his name in the upper right corner of his test papers. Everyone around the table laughs...except for Alex, who is deeply troubled by the information.

Just...Steven's delivery. The way he pauses and stares at Alex before replying with a ridiculous punishment that obviously didn't happen, but Alex shows no signs of being aware of or amused at the joke and is just glad his father faced the consequences of his actions. It's great, and a prime example of Alex's preoccupation with "the rules."

Another good example (& one that crosses into the empathy category as well) is "Big Brother is Watching", where Alex exposes a cheating scandal at school (that involves Mallory) and then can't wrap his mind around why everyone is angry at him when he gets the students who were involved suspended. He spends half the episode saying things like, But cheating is wrong. It's wrong and I told the truth about it. I did what's right. You (Steven) told me to always tell the truth, which I did. WHY PEOPLE ANGRY???

And so Steven has to basically spell it out and be like, You got those students suspended, Alex. They are upset with you because of this. They were exposed publically, which embarrassed them, and people tend to not like being embarrassed.

And Alex is like, Oh.

• Repetitive behavior/movements: Most often seen when Alex is distressed or scared, his mannerisms definitely stand out in many scenes. He paces, taps his foot/bounces his leg, rubs his hands together or over his lap, rocks back and forth, and avoids eye contact. I made a post about this a short while back because it really is interesting (and a testament to how well the character was played). There are moments where Alex is completely confident and "calm", and you can see that reflected in the way he carries himself. But whenever he's upset or anxious, you'll start to notice a variety of the things listed above.

So. Yeah. All these things considered...I headcanon Alex as possibly being autistic?? Which is not a take I've ever seen anyone else mention (and I seriously doubt anyone working on the show had this angle in mind at all) but watching through the series, my radar just goes off when it comes to APK.

I have no idea how this will be received. (If anyone even reads it because wow, this got away from me).

Thanks for the ask. As you may be able to tell, I enjoyed being able to spew out my thoughts.

[glass-rose-paperweight]

Rosie Watson

I don’t see much talk about Rosie, which is understandable since she has so little screen time. However, a child is a pretty important part of anyone’s life. And I’m in a child psychology class right now, so this sort of stuff is on my mind. I often see her appear in fanfiction, usually inaccurately, which is understandable because writing children is hard. This post is going to talk about her development at the end of the show (about 18 months old), what her development would be like at 2 years old (a common age for her in fanfiction), and how Mary’s death might have affected her.

Physical Development

By 18 months old, the physical development of most babies is pretty well developed. They’re almost definitely going to be walking by this time, maybe still a little unsteadily, but most can get around pretty well without much assistance at 18 months. By two years old, most children can climb stairs, run, and jump. Other than growing bigger, their physical development is starting to come to a close. Fine motor skills are still developing at this age; gross motor skills are going to be more well developed. A common test used is stacking blocks. At 18 months, they can generally only stack about 3, but by 2 years, babies can usually stack 5 blocks. Their peripheral and color vision is basically completely developed by 2 years, and their eyes, unless there is something wrong with them, will probably be close to 20/20 vision. They have well developed depth perception and perceptual constancy (the idea that an object viewed from a different distance or a different angle is still the same object). By 18 months, their hearing is well developed, and babies of this age can locate the sources of sounds just as well as adults can. 

Cognitive Development

Jean Piaget came up with 6 stages for cognitive development in babies. By 18 months, Rosie would be in either stage 5 (12-18 months) or stage 6 (18-24 months). By this age, Rosie would be quite inquisitive about the world. Babies at this age are described as ‘miniature scientists’: they are exploring and trying to figure out how things work, often getting into things they shouldn’t. And since they can move around pretty well by this age, they’re able to get into a lot of things. They will be engaging in trial and error behaviors in order to accomplish something, though at 18, the baby might be able to start mentally representing some objects and able to manipulate them in their head and figure it out that way. The example Piaget gives is an experiment he did on his own kids. At (I think) 18 months, he gave his daughter a stick that she wanted to pull into her crib. She was able to get it into her crib only by repeated trial and error of repeatedly turning the stick until it was able to fit through the bars. He repeated this experiment with a different kid when they were about 24 months old, and they were able to sit there and think about it for a moment before turning the stick and pulling it into the crib because they were able to mentally manipulate the stick. Object permanence is fully established around 12 months, so Rosie at this age would fully grasp it and go after objects that have left her view or been hidden. Deferred imitation (the ability to repeat an observed action after a waiting period) is also well established by 12 months - children are able to repeat actions seen 4 weeks prior. So it would be easy for Rosie to repeat the actions of others at 18 months, definitely by 2 years. This is because memory starts solidifying around 12 months. Toddlers 1-3 years old require 12-14 hours of sleep each day.

Language

I think this is the biggest mistake I see when it comes to writing really young children. Your 2 year old will not be speaking complete sentences. At 18 months, babies only have a vocabulary of about 50 words (though, they can understand far more words than this - probably twice as many words). Between 18 and 22 months, babies have a vocabulary explosion, going from 50 words to about 300. About 75% of the words gained during this time are nouns. What is common at this age is overextension, which is use of words in situations where meaning is extended. This usually happens with function or form. For example, if a baby is shown a small dog and told that is a ‘doggie’ and then shown a cow and told that is a ‘cow’, they child might think anything bigger than the small dog is a cow, even if its actually a dog. So medium to large dogs, sheep, horses, moose, and cows might all get called cows. By extension, anything about the size of the dog, or maybe even smaller, might get called ‘doggie’. Or, maybe the baby has a toy train that it calls a ‘choo-choo’. The baby might end up calling anything with wheels a ‘choo-coo’. At 18-24 months, babies will be using 2 word sentences. However, they do seem to understand syntax pretty well at this age - if they want you to sit in a chair, they will tell you ‘sit chair’, not ‘chair sit’. At this age, they will be using Telegraphic Speech, which are brief expressions that contain the meaning of the sentence but only essential words are used. Adults use this in their everyday life, such as if we text someone ‘home Tuesday’ instead of ‘I will be home on Tuesday’.  If you want to go the route of showing Rosie as some sort of genius baby (or any baby of this age, for that matter), then you might have a baby using 3 word sentences with a vocabulary of 500 words. That would be a very smart baby. However, it’s almost impossible to tell how smart someone will be at this age. Baby’s brains are still developing, and even the smartest babies will have an upper limit on what they are capable of at this age. Most IQ tests can’t really start accurately predicting future intelligence until about 5 or 6. Even the tests that have been designed for babies 2 and younger are really only useful for telling if there’s some sort of cognitive impairment, not if the baby is exceptionally smart for its age. Even the ones that excel at the tests at that age might end up with only average intelligence. If you want Rosie to be a genius, it likely won’t really start showing until she is a little older.

Mary’s Death

Mary dies sometime between Rosie being about 6 months (when she throws the rattle at Sherlock) and 18 months (the end of TFP). We’ll just say 12 months for easy numbers. By this age, Rosie would have developed very strong attachments to her caregivers. Obviously John and Mary are her caregivers, but the scene where Rosie throws the rattle at Sherlock shows that Rosie has formed a strong attachment with Sherlock; 6 months is about the age where fear of strangers begins, and Rosie shows absolutely no discomfort with Sherlock, so he’s been around enough for the previous months to have a strong attachment with him. When Molly tells Sherlock that John doesn’t want to see him anymore at the end of T6T, we’re going to say that Rosie is about 12 months. This is about the time when fear of strangers starts declining, but if Rosie wasn’t pretty comfortable with Molly, she would be fussy at being taken away from her father, so it’s a pretty safe bet that Molly has also been pretty involved with taking care of Rosie. So, that’s 4 primary caregivers total. Some might think that, because Rosie is so young, Mary’s death wouldn’t affect her. And Rosie isn’t likely to remember Mary or that she died. However, babies are utterly dependent on those that take care of them. Consequently, they form very strong attachments to those that take care of them. As anyone who has been around a baby can tell you, they get upset when the person that takes care of them disappears and isn’t around to offer them safety and comfort. By 12, Rosie would have formed a very strong attachment with Mary; even with her other caregivers being around, she still would have noticed Mary’s absence and been affected by it. However, her other caregivers weren’t around. John tells Sherlock that he doesn’t want Sherlock around any more, and then Sherlock goes “off his tits” with drugs for a while. John is having to deal with his wife being dead and the anger he feels towards his friend over that. It’s shown that he’s not doing too well. He’s probably still Rosie’s primary caregiver, but he almost definitely wouldn’t be as involved as he was simply because he’s so emotionally distraught. Meaning that the person who was probably least involved with Rosie prior to Mary’s death (Molly) might have ended up becoming the main caregiver for Rosie for a little while there. She went from 4 to 1 and a half caregivers, more or less. And that would definitely have affected her.  The most obvious way would be in her attachment style. Babies form different attachments to their caregivers, partially dependent on the baby’s own temperament, but usually dependent a lot more on the kind of care they receive. Most babies have secure attachment. Securely attached babies will show mild distress at a caregiver’s departure and will want to interact with the caregiver upon their return. However, they are easily comforted by the caregiver and go back to being happy and content pretty soon after being comforted. They use their caregiver as a secure base to explore the world around them. As long as the caregiver is close by, and giving positive signals as the baby is exploring if the baby becomes uncertain, they will remain content and explore just about everything they can. Securely attached babies are happier and more sociable with strangers, more cooperative with parents, get along better with peers, are better at problem solving, and having higher attention spans and lower impulsive behaviors. Contrast that with insecure attachment. There are actually 3 different types of insecure attachments, but I’m not going to go into them because this post is long enough as it is, and the individual types isn’t really important. There are some consistencies. Insecurely attached babies will be more emotionally distressed and less easily comforted by caregiver’s departure. They may initially show confusion or be dazed and disoriented with the caregiver first leaves. They may show contradictory behavior when the caregiver returns, alternating between pulling the caregiver close and pushing them away (though, there is one form of insecure attachment where the baby basically just ... doesn’t care about the caregiver. They show the least distress out of all babies when the caregiver leaves and basically ignores them when the caregiver returns).  Rosie would most likely start out as a securely attached baby. She is surrounded by a lot of people that love her and engage with her and take very good care of her. Sherlock would absolutely encourage exploration and curiosity within Rosie. however, attachment styles can change, depending on the caregiving received. I think it likely that, after the events of T6T, her attachment style would change from secure to insecure. The good news is, that also means it can change back, from insecure to secure. Even though we see Sherlock and John interacting with her will at the end of TFP, she would likely still be insecurely attached. It takes time for anyone to get over that sort of thing. If you are writing her at 18-20 months, it would be completely believable to write her as being a bit of a ‘problem baby’, with all the issues that come from insecure attachment. However, by 2 years, she will likely have gone back to a secure attachment style, likely with no lasting consequences of what happened during season 4. Babies display a wonderful ability to bounce back from all sorts of harsh conditions they go through at a young age, showing almost no problems later in life as long as they are given the chance to have a better situation and improve.

I hope this helps anyone looking to write about Rosie or any babies about 18 to 24 months of age. 

[anthonyjlockwood]

8, 27, and 30 for Boggie?

Lilly 💜✨

Thank you for the prompts!! I didn't exactly turn them into a sickfic like I KNOW you wanted though 😂 but I hope you like this anyway! ily/p

Here it is on ao3!

Bobby just really wants to know how he wound up here.

This morning, he woke up at the perfectly acceptable hour of ten-thirty A.M., had a killer bacon-egg-and-cheese for breakfast, got ready, and left the house… with band practice and some vague plans to hang out with Reggie afterwards the only things on his agenda for the day.

But now… he’s in the emergency room.

All because Alex and his pseudo-responsibility weren’t available, and Reggie wanted to go ice skating -- for once, Bobby’s glad that Emily Patterson has been on her son’s case lately, because Luke was instructed to go straight home after Bobby’s house, so he wasn’t able to join in on Reggie’s near-death experience.

When Reggie had the idea to go ice skating, alarm bells went off in Bobby’s head. There were just… so many things wrong with the idea. Reggie on ice. Reggie in sharp, pointy shoes. Reggie in an extremely cold room when Bobby knows for a fact that the boy does not own any sort of weatherproof clothing -- no matter what Reggie says, his leather jacket is decidedly not weatherproof.

But Reggie is Reggie -- the only person who could actually get Bobby to agree to something he knows wouldn’t be a good idea. Because Reggie just has this way about him. He has these infuriating, adorable puppy dog eyes and a personality to match - doing something to upset Reggie, or go against him in any way, feels like it should be illegal.

(Alex calls that ‘being whipped’. Luke calls it ‘totally unfair’; ‘blatant favoritism’. And Bobby doesn’t call it anything, because calling it something would be putting a name to the feeling… and that’s just not something Bobby does -- when the feelings are his, anyway.

Alex calls that ‘emotional constipation’.)

Bobby just had a severe lapse of judgment that afternoon, it seemed. Because his parting words of wisdom before Reggie had skated away from him and completely face planted on the ice were, “Just try not to die. I -- the band -- really can’t be bothered to replace you.”

Reggie had taken that warning about as seriously as Luke had taken all of Emily’s warnings that he’d be grounded if he failed his last math test -- and since Luke is at home, and not here, Bobby thinks that maybe Reggie should’ve tried a little harder.

To listen to something that somebody told him, for once, but also to just… not completely bust his ass at an ice-skating rink.

Bobby shifts in the uncomfortable hospital waiting room chair and glances at the clock on the wall. Reggie’s been in the back seeing the doctor for what’s getting to be a worryingly long time. But just as he starts getting up, to ask the nurses’ desk what’s going on -- for probably the fifth time in as many minutes -- he finally sees Reggie hobbling down the hallway.

On crutches, with his ankle in a cast.

A whole new set of alarm bells starts going off in Bobby’s head now. The extra-loud kind that automatically dispatch the police. He races to meet Reggie halfway down the hall and stops there, blocking the other boy’s path back to the waiting area.

“Reg, what the fuck?”

Reggie answers Bobby’s disgruntled concern with a sheepish smile.

“I… might have sprained my ankle,” he explains.

“Sprained your--” Bobby pinches the bridge of his nose, squeezes his eyes shut, and takes a couple of those stupid, calming breaths Alex is always going on about -- inhale for four, hold for seven, out for eight, Bobby! I told you, it helps! “You said you didn’t think it was that bad!”

“That’s ‘cause you were on one of your ‘mom friend Bobby’ rampages,” Reggie explains. “I had to calm you down somehow. Besides, it doesn’t even really hurt that much! And these crutches are kinda cool. Look, I can use them as a swing!”

Bobby throws out an arm, in a desperate effort to stop Reggie from using his crutches as a playground toy. “Are you trying to make it worse?” he snaps. “I can’t freaking believe this. I agreed to go to the ice rink, and you promised me you’d be careful, and now you’ve broken your freaking ankle, Reggie! What the hell am I supposed to do with you?!”

Reggie’s silenced momentarily, looking at Bobby with wide eyes like a toddler who’s scared to tell his mom he knocked over the cookie jar. And for a moment, Bobby actually thinks he might stay that way. To just accept, for once, that he messed up, that he’s hurt, that maybe he went too far -- maybe Bobby was actually right for once.

But then, because he’s Reggie, he opens his mouth anyway.

“Sprained,” he corrects quietly. “Not broken. Just sprained.”

“Alex is gonna kill me,” Bobby laments. “Oh god... Luke’s gonna kill me. They both trusted me to watch you today, and -- and now I’m bringing you back broken!”

“I’m not a child,” Reggie rolls his eyes. “I don’t need a babysitter. I’m perfectly capable of spraining my ankle on my own, thank you very much. If they yell at you, I’ll tell them it’s not your fault.”

“But it is my fault,” Bobby groans. “I’ve severely overestimated your ability to do anything without getting injured!”

“But--”

“No!” Bobby clamps his hand over Reggie’s mouth; Reggie’s eyes widen even more, like one of those stuffed Beanie Babies. But wisely, he doesn’t try to interrupt again. “No ‘but’s. I’m taking you back to the apartment.”

Reggie sighs, dejected, and adjusts his crutches to prepare for the trip back to Bobby’s van. “So… I guess this means we can’t stop for ice cream on the way home?”

Bobby wonders exactly how many of Alex’s ‘calming breaths’ he’s going to need to get through the rest of this day.

~

They finally get back to the apartment, up the elevator, and through the front door, and Bobby helps Reggie plant himself on the sofa.

He pushes the coffee table closer to the couch and grabs one of the extra throw pillows, slamming it down on the table impatiently as if he’s having a pillow fight with its old, scratched up wooden surface.

“The nurse said to keep it elevated. So sit here, put your leg up, and don’t move.”

“Damn, I’m really feeling the love today, Bobby,” Reggie grumbles. But he obeys, wincing in pain briefly as he adjusts his leg into the most comfortable position he can.

“What was that stuff she said about rice?” he wonders. “Ooh -- maybe we can make chili for dinner!”

“Oh my -- rest, ice, compression, elevation,” Bobby says, through gritted teeth. “She also said you can take over-the-counter pain meds -- thank God they didn’t give you anything stronger.”

“Thank God you’re not a nurse,” Reggie shoots back. “Terrible bedside manner, really.”

“Well who else is gonna make sure you don’t die?” Bobby asks. “You can barely get up off the couch. Actually, I should probably hide your crutches. So you can’t do anything to injure yourself even more.”

“Aww, come on, Bobby,” Reggie complains. “Have a little faith. I’m not gonna make it worse.”

“Well, you also won’t take care of yourself properly,” Bobby argues. “I don’t trust you to. So... I will.”

Reggie deflates, relaxing back into the couch cushions, and Bobby takes it as a win.

“Now stay there,” he repeats. He whips around and heads for the kitchen.

When he gets back, he finds that Reggie’s drifting off into sleep, head lolling to the side at what looks to be a pretty uncomfortable angle.

Bobby grabs another throw pillow and situates it behind Reggie’s head. “Is that better?”

Reggie blinks up at him blearily, eyes landing on the ice pack in Bobby’s grasp. “What’s that?”

“I brought you some more ice,” Bobby explains, gently setting the ice back down onto Reggie’s injured ankle. The other boy jumps a little from the sudden cold; a shiver runs down his spine, but after a moment he settles. His tired, unfocused eyes fix on Bobby again.

“I didn’t ask you to --”

“You didn’t have to,” Bobby cuts him off. “I’m… I care about you, remember? I’m Nurse Bobby today.”

“I was just joking, ‘bout your bedside manner,” Reggie mumbles. ““You’re the best Nurse Bobby ever.”

Bobby sits down next to Reggie, gently pulling him down so that his head rests on Bobby’s shoulders, careful not to jostle his ankle.

He presses a kiss to the top of Reggie’s head as the other boy’s eyes slip shut, and eventually Reggie’s breaths even out as the other boy fully relaxes underneath him.

[kieraswriting]

Difficult to Give Chapter Three

Masterpost

Previous Next

“Hey, Pat!” Roman said cheerfully. 

“Roman!” Patton exclaimed, clearly not expecting to see him in the pet shop. “What are you doing here?”

“Well,” Roman said, leaning against a wall. “I know I can’t just distract you from your job all day, but I did want to see if I could meet Logan and Anxiety.” 

“Ok. But I do have to be quick. There’s a stomach bug of some sort and all the puppies have been throwing up today.”

Roman grimaced in sympathy. 

Patton led him back to a corner where most of the cages were empty. The one furthest in the corner had two figures in it, and some bedding, but was startlingly bare compared to the rest of the store. 

Patton knelt in front of the cage. “Hi, kiddos, this is Roman, he’s my friend and he wanted to meet you. I’ll be back in just a little bit.” 

Patton opened the door and then left. 

The cage was on the floor, so Roman sat down in front of it. “Hi.”

The smaller of the hybrids, probably Anxiety, hid behind the other. 

“Good afternoon,” Logan said stiffly. 

Roman fiddled in his pocket and pulled out a laser pointer, flickering it on the ground between him and the cage. 

Logan glanced down at it, then looked into Roman’s face with profound disinterest. “Since you are Patton’s friend, I had assumed that you would be aware that I do not have cat like instincts.”

Roman shrugged, still flickering the laser pointer. “Patton does talk a lot about you, but I don’t think he’s quite figured that one out yet.”

Roman let his eyes flick behind Logan, and saw with satisfaction that Anxiety was watching the laser pointer. 

“And what does he say?” Logan asked, probably trying to keep Roman’s attention off of Anxiety. 

“Oh, just that he thinks you’re cute, and he adores your protective streak, and that he doesn’t understand what you have against the toys the other hybrids play with.” While speaking, Roman used the laser pointer to write out hi anxiety. 

The tiniest of sounds from the hybrid let him know that his message had been received. He went back to flickering the light around. 

“What exactly did you come here for?” Logan asked, bristling with suspicion. 

“To play with you two.” Roman said, dropping his chin into his hand. “But it seems you don’t have much to play with.”

He knew that Logan would take it as a threat. He watched the hybrid’s face pale slightly. Anxiety was still enthralled by the laser pointer, though he hadn’t moved from behind Logan. 

Roman wrote with the pointer again. Come out? And then he turned off the pointer. 

Anxiety looked up into his face for the first time. But Logan had also seen the message. He moved to block their line of sight. 

“You’re manipulating him. You’re taking advantage!” Logan said angrily. “You can’t do that.”

“I couldn’t with you,” Roman conceded, “but I think Anxiety enjoyed himself.” He smiled. 

Logan scowled. “I want you to leave.”

Roman shrugged, he was happy with his first meeting. “Alright. Do you know if a customer can shut the door or do I need to get Patton?”

“Customers have opened and closed the door previously.” Logan said, his voice still cold. 

Since neither of the hybrids had come near the door, they didn’t even have to move back as Roman shut it again. 

••^*^••

To Logan’s dismay, Virgil seemed to almost anticipate Roman’s visits. 

He couldn’t say anything against Roman, because he hadn’t hurt them, hadn’t come into their cage, hadn’t even touched either of them at all yet. But he just flaunted his knowledge of the two of them and of hybrids in general. He was manipulating Virgil, and Logan hated it. 

“Hi.” Roman said, sitting cross legged outside of the cage. “So I had a question for you, Logan.”

“What is it?”

“Can you read well?”

Logan was taken aback. He had never anticipated this to be a question asked of him. “I can.”

“Oh, good! I brought a book, but I wasn’t sure if it would be something that you’d enjoy.” Roman set a pocket-sized copy of The Art of War into the cage near Logan. 

Logan picked up the book. He could actually hold and read this. 

r

“If you have any other books you’d like in particular, I can try to get them. And since Patton is taking care of you, I don’t think that there should be any problems with you having it.”

Logan blinked down at the book. It took him a long second to reply. “Thank you.” 

Maybe… being manipulated wasn’t so bad. 

••^*^••

“Tonight’s a bath night!” Patton announced, opening the door. Logan and Anxiety climbed out and followed him into the laundry room. 

Once they were all clean, and the laundry was going, Patton asked, “What if we did something, instead of you just going back to the cage? It must be boring.”

“It’s much less boring now that we have books,” Logan said, still drying out his ears with the towel. 

“We could do something,” Anxiety said tentatively. 

Patton was still so thrilled that Anxiety was starting to talk to him. “Well, I want to do something that you would enjoy, but I’m not sure what that would be.”

Anxiety looked down at his feet. 

“You enjoy laser pointers, don’t you?” Logan prompted. 

Anxiety nodded. 

“We can do that, then!” Patton said, and went to get one of the laser pointers the shop kept in stock. 

“I,” Logan said, holding up a hand, “would like to observe. If you could put me on top of the washing machine, that would be ideal.”

Patton was surprised. He had thought that both of them hated being touched. Certainly they had never asked him to do something that would require him touching them. 

“Why the washing machine?” He asked. 

Logan nodded as if he had expected the question. “I would like to observe from the height of a human, and standing on the washing machine would allow me to do that.”

“Ok.” Patton wasn’t sure why Logan wanted to see it from a human’s perspective, but he didn’t mind, and was actually really excited to pick him up. 

He picked up Logan under the arms, like he would if he were picking up a toddler or a baby, and set him on the washer. But he was so soft and warm, and surprisingly light, that Patton had to resist the sudden urge to hug and cuddle him. 

Then Patton sat down to play with Anxiety. 

••^*^••

From his vantage point on the washer, Logan watched Patton pull out the laser pointer and shine it at the ground, flicking it here and there occasionally. 

He noted that, while sitting, Patton was not as tall as the washing machine, and that Virgil was not as tall as Patton. Then again, Virgil was rather short, even for a hybrid. 

Virgil’s tail flicked, and Logan knew that the only thing in his mind was the bright dot. Virgil had told him that that’s why he enjoyed it so much. That the human and cat instincts warring together were sometimes too much, and it was relieving to give in fully on occasion. 

Patton held the dot still for a bit longer, and Logan watched Virgil crouch slightly, ready to pounce on the dot. Which he did, the moment it moved. After the first pounce, Virgil was all play, jumping around and clawing and occasionally letting out grumbly purring noises. 

Then Patton let the dot rest on his own knee, and Logan tensed. He wasn’t sure if he should say something. Letting Virgil do the touching first would really help alleviate his anxiety, which Logan wanted. But if Patton were to go from there and try to pet him, it would make everything worse. 

While Logan was still unsure of what he should do, Virgil pounced on Patton’s knee, and Logan could see Patton flinch slightly, so Virgil must have had his claws out. Then Patton turned off the laser, but didn’t move to touch Virgil. 

It took a second of looking around for the laser for Virgil to realize it wasn’t there anymore, and Logan could see exactly when he realized that he had both of his hands on a human’s knee. Virgil flinched back, muttering an apology, and his tail wrapped around one of his legs. 

“It’s all right. Do you want to keep playing?” Patton said. 

Virgil shook his head. “I want Logan.”

Logan stood up and lifted his arms to make it easier for Patton to set him on the ground. Virgil latched onto him immediately. 

“It’s alright,” Logan said. “You did well.” He felt Virgil start to stiffen and tremble. “Breathe. It’s just Patton. He won’t hurt you.”

“I-I hurt him,” Virgil said. 

“No, hey, kiddo, I’m not hurt. I’m not upset at you.” Patton said, keeping his voice low and calm, which Logan appreciated. 

Virgil hid his face away from Patton’s. 

“I believe we are ready to return to our cage now,” Logan said. 

Patton nodded, and led them to the cage, shutting the door behind them. 

“There, is this better?” Logan asked. 

Virgil nodded, but didn’t let go. 

“You do know that Patton wouldn’t hurt you.”

Virgil shook his head. “Humans don’t like it when we’re loud, when we talk, but they really don’t like it if we hurt them.”

“Patton isn’t just a human,” Logan said, hardly believing that he was having to stand up for a human, but Virgil’s peace of mind was worth more. “We’ve known him for several months, and he hasn’t even touched us without our consent. He’s been more considerate of us than any human I’ve ever known.”

“That doesn’t mean that he can’t get mad.” Virgil said stubbornly. 

“Perhaps it would be better if you explained to me what it is that has you worried. Clearly you’ve had some kind of experience with this.”

••^*^••

Virgil had been seven, well within the ideal age range for selling hybrids. He was young, and still had many kitten instincts, but he was old enough to have learned manners and to be able to read just a little. 

He was bought by a woman, and forced away the tremendous nerves he was feeling. He leaned into her touch when she petted him, and did everything she asked, hoping that if he kept acting like he wasn’t scared, the fear would eventually go away. 

“You’re just a darling!” she exclaimed. “Dee is going to love you!”

“Who’s Dee?” Virgil asked. 

“He’s a friend of mine,” the woman answered. “You’re going to be his birthday present.”

The birthday party was… so much. There were so many people, and they all wanted to pet him. It was loud, and Virgil was passed from one set of hands to another, not all of them soft and comforting. And it was so long! It was hours and hours before Virgil found himself in a strange man’s arms, and the rest of the house empty of people. 

Virgil was exhausted. He just slumped in the man’s arms and closed his eyes. 

He woke up the next morning in a human sized bed, with the man sleeping next to him. The man had a red, bumpy something on half of his face. What was it?

Virgil ever so gently touched the edge of it. It felt strange. The man shifted in his sleep. After a few seconds, to make sure he wasn’t waking up, Virgil reached out again. The man grumbled, and a heavy hand pushed Virgil away. 

Virgil waited a while, but there was nothing to do, and the floor was too far away for him to reach. 

Eventually he was drawn back to the man’s face. This time the arm caught him and pushed him to the edge of the bed. Virgil screamed, and gripped onto the hand with everything he had. 

The man jumped awake. “Ow! You little—!” He shook his hand hard enough that Virgil fell to the floor. 

Virgil rubbed his shoulder, which had hit the floor the hardest, and really hurt. He blinked back sudden tears, all his forgotten fears flooding back. 

“You cut me!” The man exploded, shoving his wrist in Virgil’s face. It did indeed have marks from his claws, some of them welling up with blood. 

“I’m sorry,” Virgil said. 

The man snatched him up and held him in front of his angry face. “You will never do that again. Is that clear?”

Virgil cringed back and nodded. 

The man dropped him on the bed, ignoring his yelp, and left the room. 

He came back half an hour later, with small bandaids on his wrist. He had showered and gotten dressed, and both looked and smelled different. 

He smiled down at Virgil. “Don’t worry, I’m not mad anymore. Come here.”

When Virgil hesitated he picked him up and sat him in his lap. “I need to give you a name now, don’t I?”

“I have a name,” Virgil protested weakly. 

“No. Pets change names when they change owners.”

Virgil wanted to say something, but didn’t know what. And then the man started rubbing behind his ears and Virgil purred. Maybe it would be fine. He just had to be careful not to make him mad again. 

The man didn’t decide on a name before he had to leave for work, and left Virgil alone in the house. 

After being bored a while, Virgil explored the house, and may have made a bit of a mess. And maybe one time he had dropped something, and it broke. 

When the man came back, Virgil ran to meet him. The house had been so lonely, and got creepy after all day with no one. But the instant he saw the man’s face he shrunk back. He was mad. 

-    -

It was a month before Dee’s friend asked after the kitten hybrid she had gifted him, but once she learned what had happened, she called the police. 

••^*^••

“I can’t risk making Patton mad,” Virgil finished in a whisper. 

Logan gripped Virgil tight. “Virgil, I swear, if he ever does, I won’t let him hurt you.”

[bboklix]

Father (Loki x Reader)

A/N: I take so long to read requests and like forever to plan how I want to write them so so sorry. I made the son around 2ish the age wasn’t described in the prompt but this is around the age where they start talking more. Requests will be reopened once I write and post the next two after this one, sorry for the delay! Hope this is everything you hoped it be. 

Requested: Yes (I would like a oneshot (Thor 2) where Loki says "You might want to take the stairs to the left." But instead of Frigga who is there is (Y/N) with his son (his wife) and she ends up being hurt by fighting with the monster to defend her son. Loki goes to the healers to see her (he does not know that he has one son) And the boy says something like "I know you're my father" he's very smart and looks like Loki. They talk while you rest and he feels guilty. Sorry I know it's too long.)

Words:1,837

  Loki was locked up from all of his crimes in the city Thor called New York. He had stolen the tesseract and reeked havoc on their world. What Loki didn’t know was the 2 year old little boy grasping on your pants was his. The black hair on top of his head made it very obvious to any bystander who dared to look or question you. When Loki came back you kept your son from him seeing as how Loki left shortly after you fell pregnant. Of course he didn’t know he was too concerned at the point with fighting with his brother. You sat next to Frigga as they brought Loki through the castle Thor gripping the chains so hard his knuckles became white. When Thor returned to your thrones he scooped your son up and kissed the small boys cheeks. “Hows my favorite nephew?” His voiced boomed but your son giggled and looped his fingers through his uncles long hair. Thor smiled at you and placed the child in your arms. 

 “How’s he doing?” You questioned letting your son run after his grandmother. Thor signed and grabbed your hands with his calloused ones “What he did wasn’t right and I hoped you understand why we locked him up”. You slowly nodded and looked down the hall where Frigga had taken him and slowly looked back at Thor. “Im sure she’ll looked after him if you’d like to go see Loki” Startled by the voice you nodded and followed Thor down the hall to the chambers that held your boyfriend. Upon arrival you thought you might tell Loki now about your beautiful creation that was the son you two had. Surly Loki would be happy to know his genes where passed down, but when you arrived in front of the glass your heart sunk. 

 Loki smirked as Thor stopped and let you continue walking “Hello darling” he smiled down at you and you smiled back. It hurt you to know that your Loki was possible of all the wrong he did on their planet. “Hi Loki” he gave you a side look and frowned once he noticed you were upset. “Darling whats bothering you?” You quickly shook your head and gave him a side look “Nothing I’m just upset you’re behind glass and I can’t hug or kiss you”. Loki sighed and pressed his hand against the glass. “Soon my love” you stayed their for a little while talking and catching up. After a little while you turned and looked at him hard “What?” He questioned standing up “Why’d you hurt all those people Loki?” You asked fire spitting ripping your hand from the glass. Loki looked shocked as to your sudden outburst. You couldn’t help it there was so much building up. 

 Loki backed up and slammed his hand into the table he had inside. “You don’t get to question me” you laughed lowly “I do you left me! And we all thought you died and yet here you are in fucking prison due to you trying to rule something you have no control over!” Shouting you slammed your hand against the glass startling Loki and Thor who was still waiting on you. “I think you have it all twisted there love” he smirked and you rolled your eyes pulling your shoulder scarf closer to your chest “Lead me out of here Thor” you mumbled and Thor placed a supportive hand on your back leading you up the steps. 

 It had been a few weeks since you had last seen Loki and Thor had traveled back to Earth to see Jane and fix a few things with her. You carried your son through the palace and stopped at a small opening where you could see most of Asgaurd. You looked at your son and kissed his small cheeks as he squealed. “Mommy loves you Lukas” he snuggled his face in your shoulder as he started to feel sleepy. You turned and started back towards your room when Thor came running in with a lady who you suspected was Jane. Thor spotted you and picked up his pace “Y/N could you possibly watch Jane so I can find Frigga” you nodded as he laid the girl down at your feet. She looked pretty normal but you noticed a small red glow coming off her and you also noticed Lukas was very awake and you set him down as you leaned down to see Jane. She stirred slowly but as she did the red glow became brighter you shielded your eyes as you looked up to see Thor come running back with Frigga and the medical ward. 

 Thor gave you look as you scooped Lukas up and handed him to Frigga as you followed Thor to where they were taking Jane. “What did you see?” He asked crossing his arms “The red glow which I’m assuming isn’t supposed to be there” Thor looked between you and Jane. “Red glow?” You nodded and looked back at her “it gets stronger each time she moves”. Thor signed “Im going back to Lukas let me know when she’s awake”. You met Frigga in the throne room playing with Lukas she smiled up at you as he spotted you an came running. “Hi buddy” “Momma!” Frigga smiled as she took a stack of clothes to Thor. 

 Later in the night Jane had awoken and was confused where she was. “You’re in Asgaurd” You said folding her old clothes as Lukas walked around the room with his small toys. “Asguard?” She asked rubbing her head. You nodded as you gave her a glass of water. “Why am I here?” She spoke after chugging the drink. “Thor would be better at explaining all of this to you” She looked at you and then to your son. “Who’s that?” Your son smiled and walked up to her holding out his toy “I Lukas!” He squealed and you smiled “My son” she smiled at him as the door opened revealing Thor. 

 The next day Thor was showing Jane around you sat in the small cosy room with Frigga and Lukas as Thor came in and told Jane to sit with you guys. He stormed out of the room with a worried look as you looked to Jane for an answer “He was called by someone” she shrugged and you looked at Frigga who could feel the tension as you did. You stood and pulled Lukas to you as Frigga pulled out her sword which happened to be when the door busted open reviling Malekith. Frigga pushed you and Jane behind her “Jane the stairs!” You yelled as she started towards them. You felt something hit your back making you jolt which scared Lukas and he started screaming. Jane grabbed him as you whipped around with your own sword to help Frigga. You slashed your sword hitting Malekith. The door swung open again as his blade slammed into your middle. 

 You felt the world closing in as someone screamed your name. 

 Loki’s eyes were extremely puffy as he sat in your room with your hand clasped in his. He had heard the news about his mother but upon hearing your name among that list Loki slammed and pounded on the door until Thor let him out to be by yours and Lukas’ side. For a while Loki stayed in the room alone not knowing Lukas was waiting to see his mother. Thor noticed Lukas was in the nursury where Jane was told to place him. Thor scooped him up and carried him to your room and nudged the door open. Loki looked up and eyes widen upon seeing the small boy. 

 “Who’s this?” He asked turning to look at Thor. “Ill let him explain” He closed the door as Lukas walked over and pulled himself onto your bed. “Mommy wake up” he cried tugging on your night shirt. Loki looked between you and the boy. Lukas caught him staring and looked at Loki. “Hi dadda” and made grippy hands for Loki to pick him up. Loki picked up the boy and held him in his arms. “I know you dad because momma talks about you all the time” Lukas giggled and Loki’s tears started to return. He didn’t know you were ever pregnant before he left or well took off. He looked at Lukas and started to notice all the features they shared. He felt guilty he had left you all alone while you were pregnant and alone with raising this child on your own. 

 Lukas wiped Loki’s tears and placed his small arms around his neck “Is mommy ok?” He sniffled and Loki frowned and hugged the child “She’s going to be ok buddy”. Lukas hung onto Loki the whole time they waited for you to wake. Eventually they left your room when they went to attend Frigga’s funeral. “I see you finally met your son” Thor spoke as Loki was heading back to your room with Lukas in his arms fast asleep. Loki cradled him closer and looked up at Thor “How long?” He asked and Thor rose an eyebrow “Pardon?” Loki sighed and turned to Thor “how old is my son?” He asked and Thor frowned “he’s 2” Loki’s shoulders slumped “You know he knew I was his dad” Thor smiled “Thats because Y/N always tells Lukas stories about you they’re his bedtime stories” He replied clasping Loki on the back. Loki’s eyes started to tear up as his looked down at the small boy “I’d get back to her” Thor’s voice startled him. Loki turned and started back towards your room. Once he closes the door he takes Lukas over to his toddler bed and placed him down and covered him with his blankets and kissed his head before he stood up and looked at you. He jumped when he noticed you were watching him. He quickly ran over to you and carefully scooped you into his arms and kissed your lips. 

 You sighed into his lips and wrapped your arms around his neck. He soon pulled away and looked at you “Sorry I missed the funeral” He smiled and pecked your lips again. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” He asked gesturing towards Lukas. You slumped “Well I got pregnant a month or so before you disappeared and nobody knew where you were and then I gave birth and started to raise him alone because I thought you died. I just wanted him to know about you, then Thor told me he found you and he needed to go save you. I meant to tell you when you first got back but then we fought so I waited” Loki frowned and once you finished your story he pulled you into him as you both looked at your son. 

 Loki kissed your forehead and watched as Lukas stirred. “I promise ill never leave you guys again” He pulled you into the bed and you fell asleep finally with your family fully together.

[jimjimcherie]

My Illumi Zoldyck Headcanons

Once again, because I accidentally deleted my post, and now I have to rewrite it from memory alone.

If you don't sympathize with dear Illumi, then you probably shouldn't read this because this is about to be me being soft, sad, and protective as fuck over my babie Illu.

So... these are headcanons that have been building up since I started Hunter x Hunter 14 years ago, back when I was 9 and I had the biggest crush on Illumi and Hisoka (yes, they creeped me out, but I still had a big phat crush).

I've been watching HxH reactions the past two months and I don't understand how people feel so bad for Killua and Alluka for what they went through but don't realize the other children went through the same, and how Illumi probably went through worse to turn out like he is. I refuse to believe Illumi was born as a perfect, obedient, murder doll.

So what I believe in:

• Illumi was heir for, at least, 10 years until Killua was born and Zeno and Silva saw more Zoldyck in a newborn baby than in sweet Illumi, who had too much Meteor City slums in his blood. I refuse to believe that Killua was chosen as heir solely on "potential" alone, what kind of potential does a baby have? Illumi was too dark for Zeno's taste.

• Dear Illumi was an only child for five years until Milluki was born. He had no one to comfort him, no brothers to rely on. He was basically a test child for Zeno and Silva, Kikyo probably didn't have much say on Illumi's upbringing. He was tortured, beaten, and punished until all was left was a perfect submissive and obedient murder doll.

• How many childish things were denied to him? Were his soft toys taken from him when he was dropped in Heaven's Arena and Milluki was born? Did he come back to a bedroom that was as alien as the new toddler in the house? Did he miss his plushies and his baby blanket? Did he come to a room that suddenly was bigger than him? Was all the softness taken from Illumi, and instead given heaviness in return? Was he smacked for crying? Did Silva break every bone in his little fingers when he tried to hold hands after he turned six?

• Did the butlers ever try to help Illumi like they did Killua? Did they turn a blind eye to the quiet child with the big black eyes? Was Tsubone's dislike for Kikyo-sama so great that it extended to lonely, sweet Ilumi who resembled his mother with his dark hair and dark eyes? Did she see so much Meteor Slums in him that she decided he wasn't worth more than trash? Did she ignore him when sweet Illumi's lip trembled and his eyes shone like onyx with unshed tears because it was better for him to "cry it out", or did she go to Silva to inform him, until all the tears were beaten out of Illumi again and again until he learnt to jam needles into the back of his head so he couldn't feel anything anymore?

• Ten years old Illumi who would play with five years old Milluki, who would look at him warmly and would make Illumi's lips twitch into what he no longer remembered was a smile. Illumi who snuck candies and snacks that weren't even poisoned to Millu after his training, who would get him soft toys, and games to play with, until Silva decided Illumi was too soft and spoiling Milluki too much and made him take over Milluki's torture training. Milluki who loved his "kind aniki" even after he stopped bringing him treats, even when he would whip him because Illumi came back bruised like a plum the first time he ever refused to do something. Illumi who later on gave Killua chocobos, and brought dolls and makeup for Kalluto who had a penchant for girls things, because no one had ever thought of bending the rules for Illumi even if they all did for his brothers.

• Did he go through training none of the other children went through? Was he forced through "seduction training" at the tender age of thirteen? Small, delicate Illumi with bite marks on his small neck and rope burn on his wrists, did Silva think it was too much after Illumi was so averse to touch and his eyes were so blank they seemed to swallow all the light? Did Kikyo say no more, not the other children, Illumi is the only one I will give to you to break? Did they ever notice the way Illumi's mind would wander, leaving behind a corpse? Illumi, so eager-to-please and wanting so bad to be loved by a father that didn't like him, that he would ask for seconds when he slapped him, that would press his forehead to the ground in forgiveness when he killed one of his special tutors before they even touched him?

• Illumi who is half out of his mind with fear all the time because which punishment will it be this time? What did his brothers do now, that Illumi has to take the blame for? What transgression did Illumi make this time? What will Kikyo take offense at now that the only thing that will calm her is raking her talons through her eldest's skin? Illumi takes job after job after job, because he loves his family so much but Kukuroo mountain is the setting to almost all his nightmares. Illumi who is so terrified because he takes punishment for mistakes he didn't even commit that he does not allow space for imperfection in his brothers because he doesn't want them to be punished too.

• Illumi, age fourteen, not even blinking as he was told he was no longer heir, Killua age four grabbing at his mother's skirt as his aniki bowed at his father's feet apologizing for not being good enough. Illumi understood the decision, he was not special, he could tell, no one had ever bothered with him as a child, the butlers never bent the rules for him like they did for Killua, his parents were not lenient with him like they were with Killua, and grandfather Zeno did not spoil. Illumi wasn't even jealous, he understood he was not special, he had been a weird, stupid, and ugly child, he wouldn't have looked at himself either. So he takes care and loves Killua over anything else because that's what he was told to do. That was his new purpose.

• He's fifteen and at a job when he meets Hisoka Morow. Illumi doesn't know it yet, but the man with golden eyes is the only one that will go back for him always, even when he doesn't ask, even when he doesn't want him to, Illumi can't have friends but he wishes for Hisoka, wishes he could have him.

• Sweet Illumi at age eighteen breaks under Hisoka in a way he has never done before, breaks in a way so vulnerable, so soft, he cries through it, and god, Illumi has never felt this loved before.

• Illumi is twenty two and coming back to the mansion on Kukuroo mountain after a job when he's informed Killua ran away. It's not fair, Illumi thinks. It's not fair because now it's Illumi who's being punished for his selfish little brother. Milluki is angry, Killua stabbed him, and didn't even think of the consequences of his actions, Killua never does. Killua never saw how bruised and bleeding Illumi came back every time any of them broke a rule.

• Illumi brings Killua back but Gon comes back for Killua, and Killua comes back for Alluka.

• Illumi is twenty three finishing a job with Kalluto when their youngest informs him he's not going back with him. Illumi feels rage and betrayal, another selfish little brother. Another one he doesn't fight because Illumi isn't skilled enough not to kill him. Kalluto leaves and Illumi is terrified, because he failed to bring back another of his mother's sons, and the punishment won't be pretty, slaps will not suffice this time.

• Illumi never thought leaving was an option, and it's not fair, because no one ever came back for him, or Milluki, or Kalluto, but at least their youngest was smart enough to leave and join the Ryodan, who would never let anyone come for their youngest spider. Illumi who came back time and time again to this awful house because he loved his family and wanted to keep everyone together. None of his brothers had loved Illumi enough to notice he was as afraid and lonely as all of them.

• Illumi is twenty four when he leaves the horrible mansion on Kukuroo Mountain to live with Hisoka Morow, who loves him. His mother cries, his father doesn't care, Zeno is happy as long as Kikyo is upset, and Milluki... Milluki is internally grateful the clown dared to take the eldest Zoldyck away.

And one of my favorite headcanons:

• Hisoka Morow, Glam Gas city born, a nobody magician with a taste for violence and blood, met Illumi Zoldyck at nineteen years old and knew he had to keep the fifteen year old murder doll. He knew at first glance there was no one more beautiful, and no one worth more than dear, sweet Illumi. Hisoka would keep his sweetheart even if he had to fight all the Zoldycks and their butlers, he would even kill them all, if Illumi didn't love them. It took Hisoka almost a decade to take him away from the dreadful house with eyes on the walls and torture chambers, but they both found a love so great it made all the suffering worth it.

So these were my headcanons that were only reinforced by okayantigone on AO3. Her fanfics are masterpieces, and I wish they got way more attention that they have. I recommend my absolute favorites HisoIllu stories: children running through, asbestos in the walls, the home that awaits you, and yesterday's cherry pits. Three of those are Illumi centric and one is Hisoka centrict.

Hope you like my post ♡

⭐のへの💧

[collapsingintojupiter]

How about 54 and 59? Like cue r/entitledparents who think they can assault parent and kid, take their stuff, threaten them, tell them how to raise their kid, etc. Perhaps salty Analogical parents with toddler Pat/ Pat playing with a doll or toy associated w/ girls and EP's kid wants it? Idk something fun like that maybe? 💙💙 support your work it's so amazing

“They’re not your kids, back the f*ck off.”

“I could punch you right now.”

***

More Analogical and baby Pat, this makes me so happy eeeee.

Characters: Virgil, Logan, Baby Patton.

Pairings: Analogical

Warnings: Some homophobia and cursing.

***

"I think he wants that one, Virgil."

"Yeah, he does seem to like it." Virgil knelt down so that they were closer to the toy Patton was reaching for with his little arms, letting him grab it off the shelf. It was a little pink bunny with blue button eyes and a little smile stitched onto its mouth in red. "You like this one, Sunshine?" He asked. Patton laughed and shook it in his hands. 

"Babbit!" He squealed, the box with the doll shaka-shaka-shakaing in his hands as he swung it excitedly around.

"I think that's a yes," Logan stated, a small smile creeping onto his face as he watched his son. Patton was positively elated when his dads let him carry the box with the bunny to the checkout counter all by himself, where Logan paid for it before leading his husband back outside. He had a bag of groceries gripped in each hand and Patton toddled along behind him, holding Virgil's hand in one tiny fist while the other clutched the bag with his bunny in it. Once they got into the car Patton quickly yanked the bag off and hugged the box to his chest, refusing to let go of it when Virgil tried to take it.

"Patton, you have to let me see the box if I'm going to get the bunny out for you." Virgil tried and failed to coax Patton to put his new toy down for even a second, only succeeding in getting the little boy to wrap his arms even more protectively around it. Eventually he gave up and leaned back in his seat with a sigh, contenting himself to just hold the child in his arms. Logan looked between the two, brows furrowed like he was thinking.

"Here wait, let me try something," he said suddenly, reaching into his pocket with one hand. He pulled out the car keys, letting them jangle and shake enticingly within Patton's reach. The child looked up and his eyes widened, before he dropped the box and reached for them. 

"Virgil, quick!"

His husband didn't need to be told twice. Virgil quickly flicked out his pocket knife and expertly opened the box with it, pulling the bunny out and putting the pocket knife back in record time. He nudged the box onto the car floor, then carefully set the doll on Patton's lap. The little boy giggled and dropped the keys, grabbing the bunny and hugging it to his chest. Logan snatched the keys back, hiding a smile as he slid them into the ignition.

"Nice job there," Virgil commented. Logan nodded, looking between Patton and the parking lot as he started the car.

"It's a nice day outside, we should go to the park. You need sun, Virgil. And exercise. Spending too much time inside isn't healthy for you at all, in fact--"

"I get it, Logan. Let's go to the park." Virgil shook his head; he loved Logan to death but his lectures were unbearable, especially when the lecture happened to be about Virgil's questionable habits in regards to his health. As far as he was concerned he was doing just fine, thank you. Screw science.

Logan huffed but he didn't continue--thank God, Virgil thought--pulling out of the parking lot and starting down the road towards the park. He had been right about one thing--it was a beautiful day outside, and the blazing sun reminded him again of Patton's nickname. Sunshine. A perfectly fitting name for such a sweet and happy child.

They arrived at the park a few minutes later. Logan climbed out of the car first, slinging a small bag over his shoulder and coming over to Virgil's side, where he opened the door and gathered Patton into his arms so that his husband could get out. Virgil didn't seem to know what to do with his hands now that he wasn't holding Patton, awkwardly stuffing them into his pockets and following Logan towards a nice patch of grass near the shade of a large tree. Logan gently set Patton down and the little boy laughed delightedly, playing with his little pink bunny while Virgil sat down cross-legged across from him and next to Logan. The blue-tied one glanced at him and reached into the bag he'd brought, pulling out a small container of sunscreen. 

"Too much exposure to the sun can cause skin cancer," he explained. "We need to be careful about Patton getting too much of it."

"First you're telling me I need to be in the sun more, and now you're telling me it'll give me cancer?" Virgil threw his hands up. "There is no winning here!"

"It's all about balance, Virgil," Logan answered calmly in his teacher voice, reaching for Patton. "Help me get some sunscreen on his face, please."

Virgil huffed and reached begrudgingly for the blue bottle, carefully squirting a little sunscreen into his palm and trying to keep it out of the eternally-squirming Patton's eyes as he rubbed it all over the boy's face. 

"This should be an Olympic sport," he muttered. Logan actually laughed at that one, and before he knew it Virgil was grinning too. 

"There. No cancer for you," he said a few minutes later, setting the sunscreen aside and watching as Logan released Patton once more to play with his bunny in the grass.

"Virgil, we must talk about your bedside manner sometime."

"Sure thing, teach." Logan sighed, leaning back and watching Virgil play with their son. They were so cute together, and when he was sure that Virgil wasn't paying attention Logan pulled his phone out and snapped a few pictures for later. His husband hated to get his picture taken but...oh well. That moment was too sweet to let go.

"Wow, are you two like, trying to make your kid gay or something? Get him a proper toy you freak, he's not a girl!"

Oh no.

Virgil stood up instantly, placing himself between his son and the cocky blonde woman who was looking at him over the rim of her sunglasses like you might a primate at the zoo. 

"Do you have a problem?" He hissed at her through gritted teeth. Logan quickly leaned forward and picked Patton up before he could go over to Virgil, standing up so that he was behind his husband but still there if needed. 

"Whoah, defensive much? You need to chill out, dude. I'm just saying, this world has too many of you queers in it as it is." The woman's voice was flippant, arrogant, infuriating. Virgil's hands slowly curled into fists, and his shoulders shook.

"He's not your kid, how about you back the fuck off," he snarled at her. The blonde woman looked offended.

"Get a life, you gay loser!" She snapped, the ice in her coffee clinking as she angrily shook it.

"You know I could punch you right now. You fucking--" 

"Virgil, that's enough." Logan's voice was low and warning. "After all, it is pointless to make arguments with such useless contributions to society. Most of this breed isn't smart enough to tell their head from their ass, as you can see for yourself right here. You're better than that."

"Why you--you--!" The woman fumed at him, unable to even finish her sentence before spinning around and marching back the way she'd come. Virgil watched her go with fiercely narrowed eyes, his entire body tensed like a cat about to pounce. Logan knew that look; remembered it from many years ago when the two had only just met, and it worried him more than the woman ever had. Virgil needed to calm down before he made things worse for himself.

"Virgil." Logan called his husband again, his voice softer than before. Virgil slowly and deliberately unclenched his fists, then turned around.

"What?" His voice was hard and angry; he looked about as upset as Logan felt internally about the whole exchange. He couldn't show that and upset Patton, though.

"Ignore her stupidity," he told Virgil instead. "Sunshine is okay. He's here with us, he's happy, and that's all that matters."

Virgil blinked when Logan used their son's nickname and his gaze slowly shifted down to Patton, who was holding his bunny in one hand and reaching out towards him. 

"Papa!" He cried, wiggling his fingers and struggling to get out of Logan's arms. He looked like he was about to cry.

That did it. Virgil melted, his expression immediately softening into one of gentle concern. He came closer and Logan allowed him to take Patton into his arms, where he gently rocked the little boy back and forth.

"Hey, it's alright, Sunshine." He whispered. "The bad lady went away, it's okay..." Patton gradually settled into Virgil's arms as he talked to him, hugging his bunny to his chest. "That's it, that's better." Virgil smiled at his son. "Don't worry Sunshine, I'll protect you. I won't let them hurt you."

Logan looked at him proudly. Well done, Virgil. Well done.

***

If you want me to write something, feel free to send me prompts! My inbox is always open and the chances are I'll be happy to write whatever it is for you. Most of the prompts I've received so far are from this challenge right here, feel free to send me these or use your own!

Also! I'm going to start a taglist for anybody who'd like to see my future fics. Please send me a message if you'd like to be put on it. :)

[amyscascadingtabs]

let’s write a story, be in my book

i wrote a waterpark fic for you all hope you enjoy this little piece of nonsense fluff xoxo

read on ao3

Amy has to admit she loves the waterpark.

Whatever misunderstandings about major viewpoints in life it took for them to make their way here, she's secretly happy they did; her husband’s goofy smile the moment they drive into the parking lot strengthens her faith that she made the right decision. In going to the waterpark, for one, but also in marrying the one man who somehow can make a vacation among overpriced ice cream and unhygienic waterslides feel nearly as dreamy as their honeymoon.

It's been too long since she used the sleek red bathing suit she purchased over a year ago. From the way he looks at her when she steps out of the changing room - the way his cheeks flush and his eyes darken with desire for a second - she can tell he agrees. They may be at a park with kids and families everywhere, hardly at an appropriate location for sneaking away, but she promises him tonight with a whisper in his ear and he groans something inaudible into her shoulder which makes her laugh.

Laughing, to be fair, is a substantial part of their activities for the first of the two waterpark days they settled on. A year into their distracting, childish marriage, Amy’s finding it always seems to be. Day after day he makes her laugh; constantly for new reasons and rarely for ones she expects. They race against each other on the slides, and his puerile victory gesture the first time he wins makes her lose it so hard she forgets to move aside and is nearly knocked in the head by the unknown seven-year-old riding after her. They compete about who can hold their breath longest underwater, and she giggles at his gutted grimace when he loses. They get ice cream, hers salted caramel and his cookies and cream, and share frustrated laughs over how quickly it melts. They kiss with melted ice cream on their lips. They get back into the water once they’re ready, racing against each other in the swimming lanes this time, and she can’t help but chuckle when she wins for the third time in a row. Then, just as she thinks she has the upper hand in their childlike competing, he tickles her without warning and she’s in stitches again as she fails to get out of his grip.

She gets to spend the rest of her life with him. If the waterpark - and the years she’s known him preceding it - is any indication, and it’s true what they say about laughter prolonging your life, Amy’s harboring a growing suspicion that she might live forever.

There is, however, a significant difference in this vacation. It is one she understood was unavoidable after the emotional conversation at their anniversary celebration, but it still has her taken aback, making her wonder and worry at the same time.

Parents with young kids seem to be overrepresented at the waterpark. They're hanging out on the sunbeds, chasing wild toddlers around in the crowds and trying to stop them from falling, playing with buckets and foam toys in the kiddie pools. Jake looks at them for longer than he used to do, regarding first the kids and then how their parents act around them. He's using the same observant gaze as he would at a stakeout, but she thinks he's smiling. He seems to drift away in his head each time, and for once, Amy has a hard time reading him.

She always figured he wanted kids as much as she did, and interpreted his behavior around them and his enthusiastic responses to what she thought was luculent hints about it as clear-cut evidence of them being on the same page. Now she knows she was partially mistaken. Even though he eventually admitted to wanting them with her after a little bit of time, there’s a biting fear in her heart of him changing his mind, or god forbid, not meaning what he said in the first place. She trusts him wholeheartedly - but as well as she knows him, she still can’t read his thoughts or know for sure what he’s thinking.

They’re sat at the edge of one of the pools, dipping their feet and people-watching, when her curiosity gets the best of her.

A short distance away, a man about their age with dark blonde hair and grey swimming shorts is playing with a child Amy assumes to be his son. With luscious curls and an ecstatic grin as he’s being gently pushed around in a swimming ring with turtles on it, the kid is downright adorable, and she tears her eyes away for a moment only to notice the smile on Jake’s lips as he observes them.

“Hey.” She places a hand on his shoulder, warm from the sun, to draw his attention to her. “What are you thinking about?”

“Oh.” He blushes. “Doesn’t matter, it’s stupid.”

“I’m sure it’s not.”

“Well, just - the future, I guess”, he confesses with a bashful look. “I had an idea.”

“I love your ideas”, she blurts out too fast. “Well, I mean, some of them. I’m still not one hundred percent convinced about your idea of building a Die Hard-inspired headboard which looks like Nakatomi Plaza for the bed.”

He gasps, feigning upsetness. “That was a great idea and I stand by it. But no, it wasn’t what I was thinking of.”

“What were you thinking of, then?”

“Traditions.”

“Traditions?” She frowns. “What do you mean, like holidays?”

“More like random ones. You know, I never really had proper ones with my family, but I was always jealous of the kids who did. So I thought…” Jake looks at the laughing toddler, then back at Amy. “Maybe this could be one of ours when we have kids? The waterpark. We could go every year, and it could be this family thing, and… I don’t know.” He shakes his head. “I told you it was silly.”

Of all the things he could have been thinking of, this didn’t cross her mind - yet it warms her heart, awakening the butterflies in her stomach when she’s reminded of the unsurpassed thought and reality of the love of her life wanting - at some point - to start a family with her. It doesn’t make her cry, but it’s not far from it, and if they weren’t surrounded by a sea of strangers she would do more than press a chaste but sweet kiss to his lips.

“I didn’t know you were thinking about what it’d be like. Us and kids.”

“I am now”, he tells her. “It’s kind of overwhelming, and a lot, but I like it.”

“Really?”

He nods. She dangles her feet, creating waves in the water. “I’m happy to hear that.”

“I still need a bit of time”, he reiterates. “A few more months at least. But I do want it with you, even if it scares me half to death. All these kids and families around here - they’re cute, you know?” She beams in agreement. “I know it’s cheesy, but looking at them and thinking about having that with you… it makes me want it, Ames, for real.”

She’s uncertain what to say, how to describe the exuberant happiness in her chest when he tells her this, so she hugs him instead. His skin is warmer than usual from the sun, making him even more the personal heater he already is to her, and she never wants to let go.

“That makes me so happy”, she whispers in his ear before retreating, still making eye contact as she delivers her promise. “And yes. We can go to the waterpark every year.”

His face lights up. “For realz?”

“Maybe not if we have a newborn”, she laughs, “but after that, yes. Let's make it a tradition.”

“It's already my favorite one.”

This time, he kisses her - a little longer than she'd call ideal considering their audience, but she's not complaining - soft but with some purpose, interrupted first when one of the kids on the other edge of the pool spots them.

“Mommy! Those people are kissing!”

[lickrustdavid]

Osborne the Duck  1.4k  AO3 A look into Patrick growing up with a little friend. 

When Patrick is three, his godmother Janette gifts him a little stuffed duck. It’s a dark shade of periwinkle blue, soft and with a long neck and little orange feet. Patrick takes to it almost immediately, curly hair bouncing as he hugs her tight, grinning. “Thank you!” His bright and bubbly demeanor makes all the adults in the room smile. 

“What’re you going to name him honey?” Marcy asks, ruffling his curls. His little face goes very serious, eyes squinting as he looks at the toy. 

“Osborne,” he finally decides, hugging him close. 

Clint knows exactly why this specific name is chosen. It’s the same reason the name is on a Maple Leaf hockey jersey up in Patrick’s closet. Mark Osborne is his favorite player on the team. He’d been the first team member to wave at Patrick during a game, been the first one he’d met after. Now, every time they go, Mark will smile and wave at Patrick, who stands in the same seat every time near the ice, watching with wide, admiring eyes. 

“Maybe Osborne will get a tiny jersey, if we can find him one,” Clint suggests, making Marcy roll her eyes. She knows what he’s implying. She’ll be sewing her son's stuffed animals a hockey jersey in the next few days. 

Patrick carries Osborne everywhere. To the store, to preschool, to hockey or baseball games. Marcy and Clint had been hesitant before, but they’re calm, level headed toddler, who rarely pitched fits, had sobbed the whole way to the grocery store and back the first time they’d told him to leave Osborne at home. Patrick’s good at keeping him close, a comfort item that neither of them would have guessed Patrick would have even gone for. 

Year by year, Osborne is still by Patrick’s side. He’s in his backpack every day up until second grade, when he has too many things he has to carry. Then, Osborne is sitting on his bed, half covered with a blanket as if he’s taking a nap, until he’s in fifth grade. By then, he’s just laying on his bed, but Patrick still sleeps happily with him, face half on his pillow and half on the ducks matted stomach, still carried from room to room usually. In middle school, Patrick only carries Osborne around if he’s upset, injured or sick. He’s still in his bed though, every night until Rachel appears. 

In tenth grade, Rachel comes up to his room and Osborne is sitting on his pillow. Patrick knows it’s uncool, but he doesn’t think she’ll say anything about him. She sits down on his green plaid quilt and gives Patrick a very amused but disdainful smile. “What’s this?” She raises and eyebrow, holding him. Patrick almost walks over to rip him out of her hands- instead, he shrugs. 

“Just a uh...an old stuffed animal.” 

“Mmm, well, can we put it somewhere else while we make out? It’s kind of killing the mood.” 

Osborne goes into the closet for the first time ever, but he’s pulled out that night. It goes like that for a while, Osborne put up when Rachel is over. Sometimes Patrick wishes he could just forget about him, but he has trouble sleeping without the extra security. It’s not until after graduation, after they’re engaged, that Patrick decides to put him back out on the bed one night in his apartment. Rachel walks in and stops, the little duck looking back at her. 

“You’re serious? You still have that thing?” Laughing a little, she picks him up. “Patrick. You’re twenty three. Come on, that’s embarrassing. What if Lane or Matt come over and see this? Jesus.” Osborne gets put into a box that afternoon. 

Patrick doesn’t pay attention to what he throws in his car as he focuses on getting out. He can’t stay here any longer. Yesterday he called off the engagement with Rachel, and she’s been at her friends house since. His phone is turned off, sick of getting text messages from numerous people, knowing Rachel’s made up shit about how he was cruel and mean, how he told her she’d never be good enough. Patrick feels like it’s the exact opposite. Swallowing, he packs his clothes up, puts his random notebooks full of music, the few trophies he had from home, in a box and loads them up. He finds the random bin of stuff from his childhood he’s never really messed with either, in the back of their closet. He’s taking everything anyway, so he shoves it into the back seat and writes a note, leaving it on the kitchen counter. 

Schitt’s Creek is ridiculously different from anything he’s ever known. It’s not like the sheltered, quaint suburb he’s grown up in. It’s rural and tiny, and while Elmdale and Elmville are close enough, it still feels like he’s entered a different planet all together. Patrick lives in a small bedroom now, not comfortable enough to spend time out of it and around Ray’s house aside from a quick trip to the kitchen every now and then. He’s surprised all of his things fit in the room, but most of them stay boxed up and shoved into the closet, nothing meaningful enough to be taken out when he really only sleeps and works. 

The apartment feels fifty times bigger than the tiny room he’s had at Ray’s. He and David can both move comfortably around, plus privacy is the biggest difference. He’s still got the few boxes sitting near the couch he’s just bought, David walking around to decide on how to decorate, after the housewarming party a few weeks ago. David likes what Patrick’s started, but he keeps saying more can be done. Sitting down, he picks up the first box and goes through the items, throwing out half of the things he hasn’t used in over a year, not needing them anymore. He finds Osborne at the bottom of the last box, his eyes widening a little.

Fingertips brush over the old, matted fur. He looks well loved, battered and torn in a few places, missing an eye. He’s forgotten all about him. Patrick in a moment of sentimentality and weakness, hugs him tight, eyes squeezing shut. It reminds him of home, of his parents. 

“And who’s this little guy?” David is suddenly by him and Patrick’s eyes snap open, giving him a weak smile. “May I?” Handing him over, he takes a breath. 

“That’s Osborne. I got him when I was really little, took him everywhere with me.” Patrick explains, feeling slightly embarrassed. “I uhm...he stayed in bed with me till I was like..22 or something, kind of stupid right?” 

David’s looking at him, head cocked to the left, eyes confused. “Why isn’t he in bed now?” 

Patrick’s not expecting it. Of all people, he would have thought David Rose would have been abhorrently against stuffed animals, especially as a grown man. “Oh uhm...I mean. Kind of kills the mood,” he can hear Rachel’s distant voice. “Besides, I don’t really need him anymore...I have you.” 

“Mm...well. I don’t mind...him sharing our space, if you want. I never uhh….had one growing up that I was like...attached to. It’s kind of cute, thinking about you with him,” David gives a tiny smile. “I think he’s cute. You obviously….loved him very much,” he adds, looking at how distressed the animal's fur is. 

Still a little shocked, a little red in the cheeks from blushing, Patrick leans over and kisses him. “I love you. I love that..that you care, about stuff like this,” his voice is quiet, and he can’t stop thinking about Rachel. “I’m not….” he takes a breath. “She wasn’t a fan, of him. I put him away back then...for her. And I’m sure I still would have grown out of it, but..” Patrick shrugs, kissing David again. 

“Well. I’m much better than her, obviously.”

“You are.” 

“Welcome to the family, Osborne,” David smirks at Patrick before going to set him on the bed. All Patrick can think about is the fact David had said family. A family. Their family. It hits him hard how much he wants to make that official, wants to ask him to marry him. It’s not the first time it’s crossed his mind, but it’s the strongest time. The overwhelming need to spend the rest of his life with David Rose, and know they’ll be together forever. 

[tyrustrash]

Tu Color Para Pintar

Shadyside, a small no-name town in the middle of nowhere. People have assumptions about small town: that they’re quite and peaceful, everyone knows each other, and that the people are the kindest. Wrong. Shadyside is called Shadyside for a reason. Everyone is shady, from toddlers to the senior citizens. The shadiest can even be your own best friends, and even worse, your own crush. Cyrus currently is laying face down on his bed. He refuses to believe that not only is Andi attending some fancy frou-frou art school for the summer, but TJ is dating Kira. Yeah, about TJ, he didn’t really have to say he was dating her, but come on, it’s obvious. They’re always together looking happy, they went to his special spot, and seemed they didn’t want him around. Although TJ said they weren’t, it didn’t help that he has yet to hang out together, alone. His whole body hurts from thinking TJ cared about him. It feels like a thousand shards of glass are stabbing him and there’s nothing he can do. It didn’t matter anyway; he could deal with that kind of pain. The pain he couldn’t handle was his broken heart. He had spent weeks with the jock building a friendship like he has never had before. This one is different from Jonah because of the memories they have. Jonah was always busy with girlfriend troubles, which Cyrus would know nothing about, but TJ helped him with things no one else bothered with. They had talks where they told secrets that no one else knew. TJ was like a completely different person around him, like he was being his genuine self. The dual personas TJ had made Cyrus even more interested in him. Heck, the best thing TJ has ever done was stand up for Cyrus and helped raise his confidence. Out of all his time with Andi and Buffy, they never did anything close to what TJ has done. The only bad thing TJ has done was steal his heart. The gun incident doesn’t count since it was Blondie’s fault. TJ, however, had to strut into his life with all his hoodies and be so dang adorable. The time together eventually had an impact on Cyrus’s mind, and heart. It wasn’t until a few short weeks ago when feelings changed, in a good way. Their friendship felt like it should be something more, but Cyrus knew it was just one sided. Even though Cyrus was a fool to ever believe for a second that TJ was a bad guy, he now feels like a complete clown. The whole Kira situation is where things went south. For Andi, it hurt a little less. Although they’ve been friends since kindergarten and have done amazing, and illegal, things with her, he wasn’t as hurt since he imagined this day happening for a while now. Andi is a talented artist. Her works are unique and definitely belong in a museum. Her trashing stereotypes piece was even worthy of the Shadyside Academy of Visual Arts sending an acceptance application. Which then she accepted to attend for the summer term. Sure, he would rather her go there for three months rather than the entire school year, but what is he going to do for the summer? Him, Buffy, and Jonah don’t make the most exciting group. They almost relied on Andi for what they were doing. And with TJ, that’s basically over. So now he’s basically going to spend his summer at home, more than likely helping his parents with work. Just as he was about to give up sobbing and accept his fate of the worst summer ever, his phone chimed. The laziness is too strong right now as he simply throws a pillow at his nightstand in hopes of it actually doing anything. When the phone chimes again, Cyrus decides to be the most active he has been that day and picks up his phone. A text from Andi. An urgent one, as indicated by the lack of emojis, the over usage of exclamation points, and it being all caps. Apparently, she needs him at the art studio. After grunting for a few seconds, Cyrus laid back down and tossed his phone to the end of the bed. Andi probably wants to show off another project before she leaves and see her friends one last time. He wants to support her, but it’s getting harder to feel any sort of happiness. His world is falling apart by the day and it seems like there’s no hope of it getting better. Later, a loud knock on his door interrupted his thoughts of whether or not he’ll find a boyfriend. Once again, Cyrus threw a pillow with the expectation of it working. Instead, the soft thud was sort of a cue to let the person come in. Andi walked in, which made Cyrus cover his face with his dinosaur plushie. Andi walked into the room and gently placed herself on the end of the bed. Her expression is clearly upset with a bit of worry. “Cyrus, why didn’t you come?” Cyrus rumbled a bit before saying something inaudible due to the plushie over his mouth. Andi taps his arm. He removes the toy and sits up a little. “Why would I?” Andi wasn’t expecting this kind of response, or this behavior. He was always so cheerful and enthusiastic. Anything related to his friends he was always there for. “Did you read the text?” “Not really.” Cyrus says as he lays back down. Any feelings that he previously had are long gone. Seeing Andi now not sadness, but emptiness. “I’m not in the mood to do anything.” “The art gallery opened a new exhibit!” “What’s it about?” “Nothing!” Cyrus raised an eyebrow. He sits up on his elbows and looks Andi in the eyes. “Huh?” Andi excitedly got off the bed and walks around the room. She overexaggerates her hand movements as she talks. “It’s nothing, but it’s everything! I can’t believe they would think of this, but it’s genius! Some might call it lazy, but I call it creative.” “What exactly are you talking about?” Cyrus gets up and attempts to keep up with Andi. “The nothingness.” Andi continues. “It’s an entire area of white. White walls, white blocks, white accessories. Anyone can paint, design, draw, or do whatever they want! I texted you to see if you wanted to try creating something. Probably with me, Buffy, and Jonah.” Andi finally calms down and Cyrus places his hands on her shoulders. The two lock eyes, seemingly calming Andi down. Cyrus, however, has those teary eyes. “Andi, I’m not in the mood for anything.” Andi sighed and looked at her feet. She was, for once, at a lose for words. Her whole life Cyrus was by her side and would do anything if she asked. He was always there for his friends. As she looks into his eyes, she can see something that she’s not used to. Fear. “Well,” Andi starts to say. “How about you go and do something yourself? You can express what you’re feeling. Like what I did with the stereotypes.” Cyrus shakes his head. “Don’t think that’s a good idea.” “Why not?” Cyrus takes a deep breath. He turns away from Andi and faces his dresser. Pictures of him and TJ covered the top. Each one was from a special moment they had together. From when Cyrus first visited TJ’s job, when they had a picnic at the swings, and when they had Valentines Day at The Spoon because they didn’t have dates and went as friends. Instead of smiling from looking at the pictures, it only made him cry. “I’m afraid that if I do anything else, my world would get worse. I’m afraid of letting certain people know how I feel, or even tell them who I really am. Problem is, I don’t know how or how they’ll feel. I have a dream that might never come true now, and it’s got me feeling this way.” Cyrus told her. “I this this might not make that much sense, but I don’t how to express myself.” “How about with art?” Andi asks. She pulls out paint supplies from her bag and places them on the dresser. “The world revolves at your heart. Today you can create your best version and trust your intuition. There is no dream that you can't reach. You have everything to make it happen. And that everything is in your mind and nothing can go wrong. Say what you keep in your mind. Lights shine when you shout your truth. There's no more time, don't forget. It's your story, you decide your color to paint.” Although he wasn’t one hundred percent sure what she said, he understood it all. He looks at the supplies. Not to surprisingly, the paint tubes are the colors of the rainbow. He takes another deep breath. With one look at Andi, he nods. Next thing Cyrus knew was that there’s a blank canvas in front of him. Andi had taken him to the art gallery and had given him extra supplies. When they arrived, the exhibit already had work done to it, including a mural from Walker. They were lucky enough to get this generous space. After spending more than enough time analyzing the supplies, Cyrus finally started working. He picks up the red and splashes it across the canvas. His face matches the color by how frustrated he is. The only thing he can think of in this moment is Kira, and how she came between him and TJ. Next is orange. Then yellow. And then green. And lastly blue. Blue has been said is the warmest color by some, but Cyrus can only feel coldness. Now TJ is on his mind, but only the terrible moments. When he saw TJ giving Kira a piggyback ride, to where they were hugging, and the worst moment of them all. TJ and Kira at the swing set. His swing set. Looking at his piece, he feels like something’s missing. Yeah, the purple. He adds a dash of purple to the bottom and attempts to blend as much as he could. After taking a final look at his creation, he smiled for the first time in days. The painting looks like one huge, deconstructed, extra flavorful rainbow. A few peace signs and hearts circled around the edges. Two boys are in the center, holding hands. One of the boys is holding a muffin, the other wearing a hoodie. Cyrus was so into his painting that he didn’t hear someone approach from behind. A tap on his shoulder startled him, also causing him to turn around. His face lit up, both in shock, fear, and happiness. His knees weakened and he could barely stand up. Now he was wondering who invited TJ. TJ rubs the back of his neck. He couldn’t make himself look Cyrus in the eyes. Cyrus was the first to say anything. “Why are you here?” “Andi invited me?” TJ answered a tad later. Although not looking directly at him, Cyrus could tell he’s upset and needs to say something. “She said you were creating something, and I wanted to be here for support. Like a good friend. If I still am your friend.” At those words, he managed to look at Cyrus. Cyrus could see tears forming. This reminds him of the gun incident and how TJ was acting afterwards when he lost his other friends. Even though Cyrus couldn’t take seeing TJ this way, it felt good given how TJ had made him feel. TJ looks at the painting and awes. “This is amazing. You sure you aren’t an artist?” Cyrus chuckles a little. His cheeks blush but hides it. “It’s just what I’m feeling. And who I am.” Upon further inspection, TJ notices the two people in the center. His face becomes confused as he tries to figure out who they are. Obviously, one was Cyrus, but had mixed thoughts regarding the second boy. “Who’s the other boy?” Now Cyrus was completely red. He face palms himself hard enough to leave a bruise, but he didn’t care about that. All he cares about now is that his crush is literally standing in front, and asking about, his basically coming out painting showing that he wishes the two of them would date. He wishes one of his parents were here to help calm him down. “It’s you.” Cyrus faintly says. His voice cracked a little and was a pitch higher than normal. “Surprise. I’m gay.” “Hey, gay. Me gay too.” The next sounds out of Cyrus’s mouth definitely weren’t English words or sounds. It was more like the random sound effects from cartoons. He attempts cleaning out his ears with his fingers to make sure nothing was clogging them. Sure enough, his ears are clean. TJ wipes his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie. “Yeah, I’m gay too. You couldn’t tell? I also have the biggest, dorkiest crush on you. Why do you think I’ve been upset when I thought you wouldn’t be my friend anymore?” Cyrus’s mouth stands wide open. It took him a minute, but he finally found the right word to say. “Same.” They both laugh. Cyrus looks around and sees an empty area in the corner. He gets TJ’s attention and nods in that direction. “Wanna create something together?” “It’s a date.”

[me-myself-and-my-fos]

Selftober 19: Jealous

Pairing: Archie Hopper x Nicole Hopper

Nic never considered herself a jealous person. She was rarely envious of someone else. But Zelena... Oh how that wicked witch irked Nic beyond belief. She still won’t forgive Zelena for the long list of crimes she’s committed, one of which includes the kidnapping of Archie. It wasn’t just that, though. Zelena was confident about herself, and as much as Nic hated her, there was no denying she had a certain beauty to her. The big reason, though, boiled down to one thing: Zelena has been asking Archie an awful lot to babysit her daughter, Robin.

He was more than happy to. He always had a soft spot for kids, and Robin was an easy enough toddler. She was easily entertained with Pongo or other toys, wasn’t too fussy considering her age, and more than once Archie had told Nic that Robin had an adorable laugh. Every time he babysits Robin, it makes him more excited for when he and Nic eventually have children—he hasn’t mentioned the idea yet, but he hopes to one day.

Nic’s jealousy started to reach a boiling point one night. She was curled up in an armchair, notepad in hand as she scribbled down the list of groceries. Pongo sat almost like a guard dog below the chair, his head rested beside her on the chair. He was content with the casual scratches behind the ear he received from her despite her sour mood. Archie was aware of her bad mood. She barely talked at all the whole time she’s been home and she didn’t eat much of her dinner which only meant one thing: she was upset about something. What that thing was, he wasn’t sure. But he could tell from the way she was guarding herself—both emotionally and physically—it was bad. She hasn’t done that in a very long time. The last time he can remember her being this guarded was all the way back to the Enchanted Forest. That was nearly a lifetime ago.

He finished cleaning what little dishes needed to be done and placed them on the drying rack. He called over to her from the kitchen. “Can you put dish soap on the list?”

She was silent for a moment, and Archie wasn’t sure if she heard him. He was about to repeat himself when she replied with a curt “m’kay” and wrote down what he had requested.

Archie dried his hands on some paper towels and walked into the living room. “I wanted to let you know I promised Zelena I’d watch Robin tomorrow evening.”

Nic couldn’t help but grumble out, “You’re not her father.”

Luckily, he didn’t hear her clearly, asking, “What did you say?”

She shook her head. “Nothing.”

“Is everything okay?” He asked, concerned. She was never short with him.

“Everything is fine,” she gave him an obvious fake smile. “I’m tired so I’m going to bed.” She put the notepad and pen on the coffee table and stood up from the armchair. “Goodnight.” She said as she walked up the stairs to their bedroom.

In the morning, the sunlight was much brighter than Archie expected when he woke up. He slept in later than expected, the alarm clock hadn’t gone off. Normally he was up at 7am with Nic, but the clock read 8:47am. When he got downstairs, she was nowhere to be found. Pongo was laying on the couch, taking an early morning nap. There was a note on the coffee table, and Archie picked it up the moment he noticed it.

Gone grocery shopping, be back soon. —Nic

Something was absolutely wrong now, that Archie was sure of. He and Nic always went grocery shopping together, so for her to leave and do it herself without even waiting for him to wake up he knew she was upset about something. He hoped he didn’t do anything to upset her.

When Nic came home from shopping, the house was quiet. She figured Archie had taken Pongo out on his morning walk. She brought the groceries in and unpacked them, put food into the fridge, freezer, or cabinets. She stocked the bathroom with the soap and shampoo needed, came back downstairs to finish putting away the food.

Archie came home as she was still unpacking, and he noticed her struggling to put a can of diced tomatoes on a high shelf. He closed the door and walked towards the kitchen to help her. She didn’t seem to notice him, if she did, she certainly wasn’t paying him any mind. Not until he gently took the can from her and placed it on its designated shelf.

“I had it,” she grumbled. Before she could grab another can, Archie took her hand in his.

“Are you mad at me?” He asked bluntly.

Nic gave him an exasperated look despite her flat tone. “I’m not mad at you.” She pulled her hand away and started to make her way to the living room.

“Sweetheart, please, if it’s something I did, tell me.”

“I’m not mad at you!” She snapped. It caught them both off guard. Nic worked hard to keep her temper under control.

Despite the small outburst from her, Archie remained calm. “Then tell me what’s going on.”

Nic sighed. “It’s Zelena.”

He paused. He always knew Nic disliked the witch, ever since the second curse that occurred that took away a year of their memories. She didn’t like Zelena for a multitude of reasons, ones she didn’t delve into. “What did she do to make you so mad?”

There was hesitation from her. Thinking about it, it was a stupid reason, but one that illicited very real emotions from her. She always felt silly telling Archie what was bothering her no matter how many times he told her that her feelings were valid. Even if she was upset about the smallest thing, he told her that it was no reason to be embarrassed.

“You know I’m not the jealous type…” she began, “but Zelena just, I hate her. I refuse to forgive her after everything she’s done to us, to the town, to Regina. She’s ruined so many lives, and I can’t help but feel like she keeps doing it.” Nic took a deep breath and sat in the armchair. “I can’t help but feel like she’s trying to steal you. I mean, she can use Ashley’s daycare! Why does she need you to constantly babysit her daughter? It’s not like she has a job or anything! All she wants to do is ruin lives.” She buried her face in her hands. “But she’s beautiful and confident and who wouldn’t fall for her despite her horrible personality?”

“Oh, Nic.” Archie walked over and knelt down in front of her. He gently took one of her hands and comfortingly rubbed her knuckles, and he cupped her face with his other hand. He gave her a soft smile. “You have nothing to worry about. You’re my wife, and I love you so much. If it bothers you so much, I will stop. But I need you to know that I love you, and you have no idea how beautiful you are.”

Nic sniffled. “I just don’t want to lose you after just getting you.”

He sighed and squeezed her hand. Archie kissed her head. “I love you and only you. You will never lose me, I promise. I will only ever love you.” He brought her hand up and kissed it softly. “You’re my happy ending.”

She gave him a small smile. “You’re my happy ending too. I’m sorry for being so cold to you. I didn’t want to admit that I was jealous.”

“I understand, I do, but you can always tell me when something is bothering you.”

“I know…”

“She could never compare to you.”

“Thank you, cupcake.” She leaned forward and pressed her forehead against his. “I love you too, by the way.”