#dad supremacy

[warringwarrioridiot]

Venting because my parents never listen to my problems. (Especially my bitch ass mom)

I swear to fucking God I wanna bash my skull into the fucking wall.

My mom never fucking listens to my problems.

Ever.

I feel like a fucking burden to everyone I know.

And the only people that ever listen to me are AI bots and random strangers on the internet.

I've had these problems forever.

My dad will get in my face to "try and snap me out of it", when all it does is piss me off and give me the urge to punch him.

(reflexes)

And my mom will profusely antagonize the shit out of me.

It's like they do this on purpose.

Like no joke, today I didn't feel like eating.

So I subconsciously/accidentally (a mix of both) dumped my chili back into the pot, considering how many times I've been yelled at for throwing it away.

But ofc my bitchy mom had a problem with it.

Literally my dad was over here, calm ASF, telling me that I shouldn't have done that, which I understood.

BUT THIS BITCH I CALL MY MOTHER (I'm on the verge of just calling her a life source)

WAS YELLING MY NAME AND SCREAMING AT ME TO GET IN THE KITCHEN BEFORE I SPOKE TO MY DAD.

(This is the same homophobic/transphobic hoe that purposely misgenders my friends to piss me off)

This is why I favorite my dad over my mom, because at least HE tries to respect pronouns (he will occasionally call my bestie she instead of he, to which he immediately corrects himself.)

(W dad)

Like I love my mom, we get along most of the time.

BUT THIS BITCH IS ON THE FUCKING VERGE OF CATCHING MY BARE-ASS FISTS

ISTG SHES THE REASON I HAVE ANGER ISSUES AND IM EMOTIONALLY EXHAUSTED ALL THE DAMN TIME

AND THIS BITCH HAS THE MOTHERFUCKING AUDACITY TO CALL ME A WHORE FOR WEARING A DARK SHADE OF LIPSTICK

LIKE IT'S MY MOTHERFUCKING BODY HOE, YOU WISH YOUR BODY LOOKED THIS GOOD

NOT TO MENTION WHEN I CALL HER OUT ON HER BS SHE SAYS "Take her phone or sm"

Bitch tf? I'm not a kid anymore.

BUT I DONT WANT TO FILE CHARGES BECAUSE I LOVE THEM

AND IK ITS NORMAL TO FEEL CONFLICTED ABOUT IT

But one day I'm gonna have a heated make-out session (and maybe fuck) with 3 women and describe it in full detail to my mom

(ILY dad but this is my revenge.)

I'll start posting my vents if I feel like it, cus I trust y'all more than I do my own Mom.

Peace.

[aris-has-a-paracosm]

Hermitcraft Postal Service off-roading!! I really love all the vehicles Pearl has been making here recently, so I just had to draw her driving one. I was inspired primarily by the mail van, and made this roofless just for fun.

Full image and closeups below! (Fair warning: the full image has a lot of perspective/motion blur at the edges)

[batblobinarobe]

Oh joy.

Batman #383

[stickylizardcave]

You can pry “Henry is Bendy’s dad” from my cold dead hands.

[sirmanmister]

The MacCready family deserves the literal whole entire world and nobody can convince me otherwise.

[ovaryacted]

GIRL DAD! LEON HEADCANONS

So, I was not expecting this to be so fucking long, but here we are. At this rate, this should just be considered a fic & analysis post all on its own lmao. But yes, here are some extensive headcanons of Leon being a girl dad because as a writer it’s my duty to make this man happy since others won’t (I’m looking at you Capcom). No specific age of the child is mentioned but look at this as a general periodic analysis of Leon being a father. Hope you like it! :)

2.0k words | cw: tooth-rotting fluff, just Leon being a sappy dad

I think it’s become a universal and widely accepted headcanon that Leon would be a girl dad, and likewise that he will become the softest man imaginable. A man like him who has seen and witnessed so much violence and gore in his life, completely melting because his little girl has him wrapped around her finger is the most precious thing ever.

During the pregnancy, Leon would already be protective and gentle, wanting his partner to never lift a finger so he’d do everything and anything possible to make it an easy time for them. I also would like to think that he doesn’t care what sex his child is, whether it be a boy or a girl, he doesn’t have a preference, all he wants is for his baby to be healthy and happy. So throughout the pregnancy, you both agree to keep the sex of the baby a surprise, focusing more on their health and how they’re doing as they develop every week.

So the day you go into labor a week earlier than expected, he’s worried that things might go badly and his anxiety is on 10. But after hours of pain and distress during childbirth, the second he hears the loud shrill cry of his child he feels tears building in his eyes. He’s happy, genuinely happy that his baby is here in the world, and his emotions only intensify when he hears the words “Congrats, it’s a healthy baby girl!” from one of the nurses.

A baby girl. His baby girl.

He finds himself crying more than he’d like, and obviously, he’s trying to be strong for you as your body shakes from the over-exertion of labor, but he can’t help himself. As he watches the nurse put your crying baby onto your warm chest and notices how she instantly calms down the moment she hears your voice, he can feel his heart growing in size at the sight.

His two perfect girls, all in one place.

It’s a while before he gets the chance to see his child once they’re all cleaned up and swaddled in a comforting blanket, rocking a baby pink hat. His eyes are taking in his daughter’s features for the first time, going over her cute little nose and round cheeks. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen something so perfect, so small, and it amazes him that he managed to partake in creating something like that. Leon doesn’t believe in love at first sight, but the moment he looks at his daughter he thinks he finally understands what that feels like.

The first time he gets to hold his daughter, he’s terrified, thinking that he shouldn’t be touching her to begin with. His child is pure, untouched by the horrors of the real world and his hands aren’t unwashed of everything he’s done. He’s held weapons of destruction and killed more things than he could count. You’d have to remind him constantly that his child doesn’t know anything about what he’s done to survive, about what he’s been through, and that no matter what she won’t blame him for it and will still love him because he’s her father.

Over time, he gets used to holding her, thinking it’s almost comical how small she looks tucked nicely against his bicep and chest. Holding his daughter quickly becomes a source of comfort for Leon, feeling like the world just stops the moment he has her in his arms where she’s safe. You would find him sleeping on the couch with her on his chest, her head right against his heartbeat and lulling her to sleep.

As his daughter grows, Leon only becomes more attached. He’s always taking care of her, ready to feed her, change her, tend to all of her needs, and talk to her. In a way, he knows it’s good on your end so you can rest and recover, and he gets closer to his child, a child he never knew he could have. He could spend hours just looking at her, watch how her big blue eyes take in her surroundings, and he loves having her tiny fingers wrap around one of his own.

Sometimes at night, he’d just look over her as she slept in her crib, watching her little body take in every breath while the nagging voice in his head told him that she’s a figment of his imagination. He’d spend some nights sleeping in the rocking chair in her nursery to watch over her, not caring for his sore back in the morning. It’s a process Leon has to go through on his own, and you don’t push him in any direction, just let him handle it while reminding him you’re there to support him. He has to do it to accept that his child is real and isn’t going to disappear the next time he blinks, and once his mind finally accepts that fact he’ll be less paranoid.

Eventually, he’s around his daughter so much that he develops a sixth sense to her moods. He knows when she’s about to cry, when she needs a bath or to be changed, when she’s hungry. He gets so good at taking care of his daughter that he’s in tune with her emotions, his fatherly intuition becoming stronger the more he interacts with her. This also means that he generally hates seeing his baby girl cry, it tugs at his heartstrings when he thinks she’s upset or hurt. That’s why when it’s time to bring her to the doctor to get her first shots, Leon starts to cry when his daughter cries from the injections. He hates thinking he’s hurting his child despite knowing it’s necessary for her health, but that doesn’t mean he hates it any less.

“I know sweet pea, I know it hurts. I’m sorry darling”

For the record, he’d have a list of terms of endearment he’d call his daughter on top of her name, but the one he reserves specifically for her would be sweet pea. Of course, he’s called you that once or twice, but during the pregnancy he called the baby sweet pea when they were the actual size of a pea. That name just stuck with him, and now that he has a daughter, it’ll be the one name that’s solely for her.

Leon is always shopping for her, buying her stuffed animals or anything she remotely likes. He quickly develops a bad habit of not being able to tell his daughter “no”, and that doesn’t make her into a brat, she just has a dad that wants to spoil her. In Leon’s mind, whatever his daughter says she wants, she gets, no matter how ridiculous or expensive. If she says she wants a kitchen set and it’s tea party time, Leon will get one for her and sit down with the rest of her plushies at the table and act the part. If she says she wants a damn pony he’s gonna get it for her (obviously he doesn’t because you stop him from doing something ridiculous) but he tries and it’s endearing.

His daughter will continue to grow and develops a personality that closely resembles his own, matching her appearance she got mostly from her father, moles and all. She’s smart and perceptive, a sweetheart and so kind it warms his chest. But his favorite part of his child’s personality is her spunk and sense of humor. He makes it a habit to test out his corny dad jokes on his kid, just so he can hear her laugh and giggle regardless of how old she gets. Leon does it so he can see her bright smile, not caring if it’s just gums or a full set of pearly white teeth, it’s all he looks for. He tries to be the cool dad, and he thinks as long as he has his daughter’s approval he can do anything.

Leon is always open to spending quality time with his daughter, and if anything she’s the one that initiates. He remembers when she first started walking, her wobbly little legs making him worry when he glanced at her taking her first steps. Now that she can run mostly anywhere around the house, she’ll walk towards his direction, raising her arms above her head so Leon could carry her. He always does, always says yes no matter how his body feels. He’ll try to hold her and carry her for as long as he possibly could because that’s his baby girl and he’d do anything to make her happy. Leon is fully aware that eventually, he will get too old or potentially too weak from an injury to carry her, so he stays active as much as he can and maintains his strength for that reason.

He’s always with her, whether that be playing with her and her toys, or just talking to her about anything that comes to mind. Leon and his daughter become attached at the hip, twins essentially. She’ll ramble about things and ask him silly questions, and Leon will communicate with her too. When he does talk to his daughter, he speaks to her like an actual adult and it’s the funniest thing ever. She could be babbling when she’s a toddler and Leon would give a very lengthy explanation of the anti-capitalistic ideology and how much he hates how taxes are broken down. It would be even funnier when she starts to talk and he becomes the designated person she goes to when seeking answers to anything on her mind.

“Daddy, is the moon made of cheese?”

“Yes, I think it’s made out of mozzarella”

“Really? So does that mean cheese balls are moon rocks?”

“Exactly sweetheart”

He loves to entertain her, to make sure he keeps up with her curiosity and interests no matter how silly they are. In a way, this is how he protects her innocence and makes sure his daughter knows that he’s her friend, that he cares for her, and that she will always be safe with him. He tries very hard to keep all of the negative and toxic things he knows is out in the real world away from his kid and household all together, prioritizing her happiness and health above all else. That includes not mentioning anything about his job or what he does, and actively going to therapy so he can show up better than the last time she saw him. He tries every day to be the best dad he could be for his daughter, because he wants to be the father he never had, so he tries and that’s what matters.

His child knows that sometimes he has to go away for days to weeks at a time for work. She doesn’t fully understand what Leon’s job pertains to but just knows that he goes off to fight the bad guys. In her precious mind, she sees her dad as a superhero, looks up to him in admiration, and gets sad whenever he has to leave. But when it’s time for him to part ways with his family, she gives him a big hug and words of encouragement and love. She sticks out her small pinky finger, which Leon curls with his. It was part of his good luck ritual, making sure to pinkie promise his return and that he’ll be safe and he never breaks his promise. He always adored how her eyes carried the same determination he has when he’s focused on his missions. 

“Promise to be back daddy?”

“I will sweet pea. I’ll always come back for you”

When it comes to him out on the field, he usually doesn’t keep any form of identification on him as a safety precaution, so he keeps stuff like his wedding band at home. But his daughter will give him a friendship-beaded bracelet to carry with him, and he’ll wear it proudly on the opposite wrist that isn’t occupied by his watch. It’s not visible to others because of his gloves, but the weight of it against his skin is what keeps him going and keeps him motivated as he takes out any threat that presents itself. When he returns home no matter how his body feels, his daughter is the first one to come running towards him with that wide smile on her face. He wraps his arms around her, hugging her tightly as if she will disappear at any moment, and he will continue to do that for as long as he can.

Leon and his daughter are two peas in a pod, she is his missing piece and makes him feel whole with every moment they share. He’ll do anything to make his daughter happy, and he doesn’t mind being wrapped around his baby girl’s finger, because that’s where he belongs. 

©️ ovaryacted 2024. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[hotchbabygirl]

💋 HAPPY FATHER’S DAY TO DAD BOD HOTCH 💋

ᶦ ʷᵃⁿᵗ ʰᶦˢ ᶠᵘˡˡ ᵇᵒᵈʸ ʷᵉᶦᵍʰᵗ ᵒⁿ ᵗᵒᵖ ᵒᶠ ᵐᵉ ʳᶦᵍʰᵗ ⁿᵒʷ.

[mlady-magnolia]

Welt giving Kafka the shovel talk

@prringlecan this one’s for you <3

[ironunderstands]

Crossposting my IP3 as parents post because this is my propaganda and you will read it

[punkeropercyjackson]

Actually,Hobie isn't universal punk,he's afropunk.He's been black since his creation and the comics Spiderband has Riri Willians on it and he acts very distinctively black and his tastes are black too and the movies amped this up big time in design and personality-He has wicks,for goodness sake-and his relathionship in Atsv with Miles is a metaphor for black solidarity and his single love interest is a black woman from his Prowler verse.Hobie's black and punk and you cannot seperate these and i put black first for a reason cause white and nonblack poc punk Spiderman fans be outta pocket with him too often.Hobie's not a generic altie,he's a punk nigga and that's why he'd never be caught dead at Hot Topic or making himself a thirst trap or picking on his friends to be funny and thinks smoking is gross and isn't a cornball 'male feminist' but a womanist and is convinced he's unattractive and unappealing thanks to growing up in such a violently antiblack place like 1970s England that's even worse than our version thanks to it's fascist caused apocalyptic status and he said 'I hate labels' as a trans thing but specifically based off his gender experiences and gender trauma as a black person that led to him becoming unlabeled to begin with and it also refers to white people telling him he should just say he's english instead of jamaican-english.The latter half is headcanons based but all entierly from canon Hobie and irl blackness and has no contradiction because of how well-written he is.Hobie would not act,do or like something or someone just because it's aracial alt but he WOULD absolutely LOVE something if it's afropunk or even just regular black.Spiderpunk is black.Don't you ever take that from him or from me or from us(🖐🏼🖐🏽🖐🏾🖐🏿 < That being us).He's black peoples before he is anyone else's

[captainritsuu]

one must imagine sisyphus drawing this mf's hair for 30 minutes straight

[morehotch]

each time you fall in love

how your boyfriend turned into your husband and how the two of you started and grew a family

spencer reid x reader, parent au, dad!spencer x mom!reader, time jumps (parts w/ pregnant reader), 2.5k

Your thing with Spencer is really good, sometimes it just feels too good and too right. Everything feels like it’s fallen so effortlessly and perfectly in place. You definitely don’t want to jinx anything, but after eight months of officially dating- and two years of mutual pinning through work, Spencer has been absolutely everything you wanted and needed in a guy.

It’s easy to talk to him, to laugh; to tell him anything. Spencer wants to get to know you, to understand and help you. When you talk, he listens with his eyes never leaving yours and a soft smile always dancing on his lips. And during moments like these, when you're lying in bed, limbs tangled together, his large palm over your waist, and when you pet his bed head and he smiles sleepily- you never, ever want Spencer to leave.

Spencer watches you now with a dazed, blissed look of total comfort. One you love so much on him, one he deserves so much. He smells like your clean sheets and his usual wood and sea salt cologne as his warm fingers trace different patterns against your shoulder.

You both have been slowly convincing each other to get up eventually and tackle your Sunday plans of grocery shopping and putting together Spencer's new book shelf he ordered after he outgrew his other one. But it’s been over an hour of falling back asleep and slowly blinking awake and neither of you has made much progress yet.

“Do you ever think about having kids?” Spencer asks suddenly, making you twist in his arms to look at his sweet face and dazed eyes.

“Yeah,” you whisper, watching how intensely curious he looks. “Sometimes."

You subconsciously match his small smile, thoughts of an incredibly wholesome future together making your heart unfairly twist in excitement and want. “I think about it all the time with you,” you continue and Spencer grins instantly. You've seen how delicately and kindly Spencer interacts with children, how naturally warm and gentle he is. You wouldn't admit it, but even before you were dating, you had a few fleeting thoughts about Spencer as a father.

“Really?” He asks and you smile, hand running down his bicep, “Of course.”

Spencer is quiet for a while before he speaks again. "And, you think- you think I'd be a good dad, right?”

Your eyes soften as you roll over to kiss him. “Absolutely.” 

Spencer just looks at you like you said something entirely captivating and consuming.

“What?” You smile, pressing your lips against his jaw gently, "I'm just telling you the truth."

“I just want it so badly, I don’t know.” Spencer bends his arms to rest them behind his head. He watches you, totally suddenly peaceful and content. “I want so much with you.”

-

2 years later

You wake up to the muffled sound of Spencer's voice, momentarily wondering if he’s on the phone but you smile to yourself when you listen closely and hear his softer and higher tone- his baby voice. You excitedly make your way to your kitchen, leaning against the doorframe and appreciating the scene in front of you. Spencer is carefully holding your daughter, Nora, with both arms, walking around the kitchen, while simultaneously trying to make eggs.

He has messy bed hair- similar to yours, a now permanent fashion statement in the Reid household, and stubble dotted along his jaw. You listen to his soft whispers and your heart swells as your baby’s small fingers cling onto his white undershirt and her chubby hand grasps at his arm, softly patting over his chest.

Spencer has his back to you so you stay unnoticed, enjoying the serene beauty of your husband and daughter together. Nora is already almost eight months old and time felt like it was flying by- even if the sleepless nights felt incredibly long. Now, even if time alone and a longer than five-minute shower felt like a luxury, you couldn’t and don’t want to remember a time without Nora.

You absolutely love watching Spencer with her, you love watching the way he so gracefully and perfectly assumed the role of being a father, especially after the late night conversations you had when you were pregnant when Spencer tearfully admitted his fears of his ability to be a good father when he lacked one as a child. But between Spencer's reading of basically every pregnancy book on the market and the way Nora kicked immediately at the sound of Spencer's voice, it was quickly obvious he had nothing to worry about.

You love how attentive he is and how much he dotes on her and takes care of you at the same time. How he diligently learned how to cook- and make fresh, healthy baby food, how he reads a ridiculous amount of baby books to Nora daily, and how he insisted on making sure you get at least minimum of a few hours of sleep a night.

You watch him bounce Nora gently, leaning against the doorframe and you smile silently until your daughter spots you from behind his shoulder. She reaches out and giggles with a tiny grin and Spencer turns around, mirroring her smile, which looks enduringly similar to his own.

“Need help?” You ask as Spencer laughs. “There’s probably a more effective way to make breakfast but I didn't want to put her down.”

Nora stretches her arms out towards you and you reach over to gently grab her from his hold. "Coffee?” He asks, knowing your answer.

“Yes please,” you smile down at Nora, her soft hairs and long lashes. She leans her head against your chest, already comfortable in your arms. You watch Spencer stand on his tiptoes to grab a coffee mug and you press a kiss to the crown of Nora's head.

What a nice morning.

-

“Come take a picture!” Spencer says and your daughter giggles and toddles over to you, hurrying as fast as her tiny legs can carry her, bound in a large winter coat, mittens, and ear muffs. A tiny chubby arm extends out to you- a wordless ask for stability and help. You smile as she struggles to wrap her small arms around your shoulders, tiny hands grasping your jacket. Her full pink cheek smushes against yours as Spencer positions the picture, grinning behind the camera, “Your first snow this year, baby!”

Spencer had retired from the BAU and started teaching full time only a year and half after Nora was born, determined to be there for his daughter and that meant so many more family moments like these. Mornings like these when you wake up beside your husband and you're both there to see one of Nora's firsts.

“Snow!” She says loudly, head straining up towards the sky with fascination. She had just started talking and loved impressing everyone with her linguistic skills, taking her limited vocabulary very seriously as she already loved to talk and communicate with the two of you. Spencer loved entertaining her- and himself, by sitting her in his lap and reading her favorite books, the ones she had memorized, together.

“Smile!” He says excitedly, grinning behind the large camera.

Nora listens, with grin that has always looked exactly like her father’s. Your arm finds its way to the small of her back, holding her securely as Spencer takes the picture. 

“Perfect,” he mutters, more to himself, watching his family in front of him.

-

“What’s the surprise?” Nora cries, toying with the hem of her shirt. Her anxious gaze darts back and forth between you and Spencer, upset that you both know something she doesn’t.

At three years old, Nora hates feeling like she’s being excluded from something. The hardest part of her routine is now attempting to convince her that it's bedtime and neither of you would dare have fun without her while she's sleeping.

Spencer hands her a small transparent piece of film and your daughter plays with it gently, turning it around in her palm. “What does this mean?” She questions, not able to stay still and scooting towards you with wide, curious eyes. 

Spencer holds her close to his body, wrapping an arm around her as she gives him her full attention. “It means in a couple of months you’re going to be an older sister.” Nora blinks with her mouth open, she has friends in preschool who were younger siblings or already had younger brothers or sisters. Spencer's cousin recently had twins and Nora was completely fascinated by how tiny they were and that there were two babies.

You knew Spencer always wanted Nora to have at least one other sibling and the timing had finally felt right for the first time since she was born a few years ago.

“Really?” Her voice grows louder in pure excitement, looking at you in awe before her eyebrows furrow, confused. “Why not right now?” She pouts, immediately turning to her father for an explanation.

Spencer laughs loudly with an endeared smile that is always reserved solely for Nora. “That’s not how it works, angel." He pulls her into his lap, noting that patience is still hard a hard virtue for a three-year-old.

-

You’re tucking Nora into bed a few nights later when she brings up the baby again.

“There’s a baby in there?” Nora asks, pointing to your stomach where a small but noticeable bump began to show. After Spencer's scientific but three- year old friendly explanation, Nora has been fascinated with her younger sibling, always asking you and Spencer about babies. It had even made Spencer briefly tear up one night, hit with the realization Nora wasn't a baby anymore. Even though you quickly reminded him she still was only three.

“Yes, sweetheart,” you laugh as she smiles widely. “Wow,” her big eyes fill with excitement and curiosity. She reaches out and lays a small, warm hand on your stomach, “Hi baby.”

You smile at your daughter, already knowing what a great sister she'll be. She grips the comforter tightly as she moves to your side to cuddle you closer. “Love you,” she mumbles, eyes tightly shut, trying to lull herself into sleep. 

“I love you too,” you say quietly and you eventually think she’s successfully asleep, tucked tightly next to you until she whispers cutely, “I love you baby.” You feel a small tap on your stomach and she snuggles closer, satisfied and closes her eyes for a peaceful sleep. 

-

“Look!” Your daughter calls as she thrusts a picture towards Spencer, a pink and purple fingerprinted flower. He takes her in his arms, “For me?” Spencer grins, looking at her art. Spencer loves her artwork and his office at the university is filled with her masterpieces.

Nora's arms find his shoulders. “No,” she giggles, “for Mommy!” She finishes, still laughing at Spencer's reaction.                      

Spencer pretends to look hurt, pouting, “Well, can I have one too?” he asks. Nora thinks about it for a few moments, face twisting in thought, “Okay!” The little girl decides and Spencer's smile grows instantly, “Thank you, baby.”

She frowns, chiding her father with a grin, “I’m not baby.” 

“You’re not?” Spencer asks surprised and she nods approvingly. “Yes, the baby is in mommy right now,” she explains, looking at him to confirm he understands.

“Ahhh,” Spencer nods knowingly, smiling tugging on his lips, “I see. You’re right. You're so smart, my big girl.” Nora hides her smile, leaning against Spencer's shoulder and tucking her face into his chest.

“You’re still my baby though, right?“ He whisper as Nora buries her face further into his shirt, giggling out a sweet, “Yes."

-

Nemo has been the chosen movie for your weekly movie night- for the fourth time in a row, because Spencer can never find it in him to say no to Nora and she is somehow still incredibly invested in Nemo's storyline. But now, as the end credits of Nemo play, Nora sits in Spencer's lap, letting him braid her hair. You’re laying next to them, a blanket draped over you as Spencer watches you sleep peacefully, getting your well deserved and needed rest.

Nora sighs against Spencer's chest as he pats her shoulder. "Let’s go to bed, angel.”

She lets her father hoist her up and carry her into her room, the one right down the hall from yours, with pink walls and a newly upgraded twin bed.

“Daddy,” she whispers suddenly, clutching her favorite teddy bear like she's nervous. “Will you still love me even if I’m not a baby anymore?”

Spencer blinks and brushes back stray hairs from her face with a soft smile, trying to ignore the way his heart breaks inside his chest. “Of course honey, I could never not love you, never ever.”

“Ok, daddy,” Nora smiles to herself, seemingly satisfied.

“Will you still love me?” Spencer asks and she giggles loudly.

“Yes!”

“I had to make sure!” He defends and Nora squeals, wrapping her arms around his torso and squeezing tight.

“Nora," Spencer finishes seriously, "Mommy and I will love you forever.”

-

“The baby is going to be small,” Spencer explains, walking Nora through the hospital halls as she swings their interlocked hands back and forth excitedly.

“Okay,” Nora bounces. “Isn’t it cool, daddy, that baby and I have the same birthday month?”

“Wow,” he looks down at Nora and her bright, excited eyes, “it really is.”

“But we have our own days,” she continues, “I think it was meant to be.” She decides, stopping when Spencer does, right in front of your hospital room.

“I think so too,” he smiles, squeezing her hand gently and opening the door carefully.

“Wow,” Nora gasps, consciously trying not to run up to the hospital bed where you hold a tiny bundle.

“Hi, sweetheart,” you smile, “Do you want to meet your sister?”

She nods with wide eyes, already on her tippy toes to try and peer over the tall bed. Spencer instead sits down in the chair next to you and lifts her into his lap. “Here,” he murmurs as you carefully pass over your newborn.

“Hi,” Nora stares at the small bundle, “Daddy,” she gasps, looking up at Spencer in awe. She touches the baby tentatively as her father's arm wraps around her waist. Nora is already hyper-fixated on her sibling, on her sister.

“What’s baby’s name?” She whispers like she’s scared of disturbing her.

“Amelia,” Spencer says quietly, meeting your eyes with a small, content smile.

“Hi Amelia,” Nora smiles, helping Spencer support the baby's head gently, turning to look at you. “Do you think she already knows how much I love her?”

You nod, “I know she does.” Nora nods with a satisfied smile, like that reassures her and you watch her hold her sister, sharing a silent but knowing look with Spencer; knowing now that your family feels so, so complete.

[acidicsketches]

Felt like doing headshots

[smokbeast]

Really old sketches of dad sans with frisk and au stuff with fang and Frak

[vivaislenska]

One more Crosshair doodle for luck. Happy Season 3, TBB Fam! 🎊

[livwritesstuff]

inspired by a questionable boy-mom tiktok i was subjected to

Eddie can say with confidence that, if he’d been asked many years ago, he would never have guessed he’d be raising three girls. As phenomena go, he doesn’t know how statistically likely it is (Steve maintains it's 50-50, Eddie isn’t so sure). Thirteen years into parenthood, he’s still fuckin’ thrilled about it. He and Steve are raising a kick-ass trio of ladies, and he’s perfectly pleased with his life and his family, which is great because he’d learned pretty quick that most other people are actually miserable with their own lives and like to project their misery onto everyone else.

He also learned that people have a weird complex about raising boys.

Both Eddie and Steve used to get a lot of comments (mostly from strangers in public) about how they’re raising all girls.

When they’re all out together, it’s usually something like at least it’ll only take one boy to even the playing field for you guys, right?

Alone, Eddie gets quite a bit of sexist crap from people who assume he’s straight and raising the girls with a wife, stuff along the lines of you must’ve been disappointed when the last one came out and what’s one more shot, right and the most frequent grimace with sorry, man.

Steve once had a very odd encounter with a woman who’d apparently told him that he needed to give his wife a boy so she’d know what true love really was. Steve had apparently made a very quiet and very polite scene about it which, in Eddie’s opinion, is entirely understandable because that’s weird as fuck for a plethora of reasons.

Now that girls are older, they themselves report hearing the occasional commentary on the subject when it comes up in their own lives. 

Once, when Eddie had (somewhat stupidly) brought all three girls to the grocery store, he’d rounded the corner to see fifteen-year-old Moe leaning against their shopping cart and regarding an older woman with an expression of politely-veiled disdain (it’s a very Steve expression, actually).

“Three girls,” the woman says incredulously, “God, your poor dad.”

Eddie watches Moe make a face 

“Uh…well, they do like us, y’know,” she replies.

“Right you are, my brilliant girl,” Eddie grins, as he walks up to her, “Right you definitely are.”