#implied by the baby LOL

[aerequets]

based on the way loid talks to bond about spy stuff, he is definitely gonna have full conversations with his baby about it 💯

[smuby]

art dump !!!! (frieza and goku designs by @sporrkks (hiii againnnn sporkssssss))

[tourettesdog]

Whenever I consider the Concept of Little Baby Man dissec, this is all that comes to mind

[oh-katsuki]

cw:  jjk manga spoilers, fluff

satoru bounces a baby on his knee. his baby. he holds her under the arms, smiling down at the precious girl as she giggles incoherently each time his heel finds contact with the floor again. you can see where his hands meet your child’s under arms, holding her steady as he takes her from knee to knee. 

you don’t think satoru knows you’re watching. it’s not because of anything in particular that he’s doing, but you don’t think he’s realized yet that you’re looking. satoru’s smiling like there’s no one else in the world. his grin shakes slightly with his nerves, like he’ll never quite get used to being a father. his eyebrows, knit together in the center with his adoration and his worries, betray an unfamiliar sense of parental nerves, like satoru can’t quite comprehend how he could love something so little as much as he does. 

you can hear him talk in a low voice to his daughter as she steadily grows sleepier. she’s tuckered out, tired from giggling so much and the cry she had earlier about something that startled her. satoru though, continues to mumble in a quite voice as he leans her forward and places her head on his chest. 

he sits back in the chair so that she’ll be more comfortable, mumbling while the precious little thing dozes off against him. you can’t make out what he’s saying, but you can briefly see the way his lips form around the word for love and then, the way they form repeatedly around the name of your daughter. it looks like he’s repeating it, just saying it softly to her as she’s lulled into a sleepy babble by the rise and fall of his chest. 

it’s interesting to see satoru like this, so gentle with affection. satoru, as a person, is deceptively confident but there’s an incredible and unavoidable vulnerability in venturing into parenthood for the first time together. despite that, despite the vulnerability that you know he struggles with, he’s been so good about it. satoru takes the initiative when you seem too exhausted to get up from bed in the dead of night, lulling your child to sleep with hushed whispers or little hums. he steels his nerves when you feel your yours might crush you. still, this vulnerability is both foreign and special. 

“hey,” you walk up to him, “she get sleepy?” 

satoru nods a little, briefly glancing up at you and then back down to the face of his daughter, whose little mouth has fallen open. 

“look,” he whispers, pulling you by the wrist around to the other side of the chair and having your crouch in front of your daughter’s face. “she’s drooling.” 

he says it with so much awe that you’d think he said she was glowing. 

you tilt your head and see that he’s right. at the corner of your child’s mouth, a small sheen of spit begins to seep into satoru’s t-shirt. you find yourself laughing, looking fondly at the little mess she’s creating. 

she looks like her dad. it’s undeniable. though she has your hair and eye color, your daughter’s features are so like her father’s. her eyes are the same shape and her nose, though slightly upturned with how little she is, is his. you can see him in her. even in sleep, her expression is much like satoru’s. even her personality, which has begun to shine through the senseless baby babbling, reminds you of satoru and you can only imagine the trouble they’ll get into when she’s old enough to walk and talk. in your head, you apologize to nanami for duplicating satoru into female form. though you’re sure that wherever he’s watching from, he’s forgiven you both. 

“haha, gross,” satoru adds, his chest jostling the baby who is now dead to the world. 

“satoru,” you chide, furrowing your brows at him. 

he only turns to you and shrugs a little bit, his cheeks pink with a flush like he’s just realized again that he’s a dad and that this child is half of him. you smile at him a little, reaching up to touch the soft hair at your daughter’s temple. she’s so little. she is so small that you find yourself aching and it seems that satoru feels it too, taking a shaky breath in and then exhaling. 

--- 

the windows in the car are down. suguru is driving, shoko is in the front seat. the music from the front comes blaring through the speakers, making its way in steady pulses to the back of the car where you and satoru sit. you can’t hear what shoko and suguru are saying and they can’t hear what you and satoru or saying. 

you can feel the steady whip of the wind on your face as suguru speeds down the near empty highway and into a tunnel lit with glowing yellow-orange lights. the sound of it changes when you go in, air taking on a hollow tone that feels thick against the inside of your ears. it thunders, threatening to drown out the music in a sound you attribute solely to nights like these. 

you don’t particularly know where suguru is driving to. he’s just driving and the three of you are happy to tag along. 

you stick your head out of the car window, feeling the way your hair shifts across your forehead and smiling into the push of air against your cheeks. in the sideview mirror, you can see suguru, whose face lights up with a content smile as he spots you in it. 

satoru is beside you, his black sunglasses hanging low on the bridge of his nose and his arm positioned out of the car window beside him. his hand rests evenly across your thigh, possessive and present. 

this memory is a precious one. before suguru defected, before satoru met toji fushiguro. you and satoru were both more finicky back then, afraid of the commitment that comes with being in love but too prideful to give up entirely on the feelings you had for each other. 

satoru leans over toward the middle seat and the motion beckons you closer. you pull your head from the window, leaning in as well to hear what he’s saying over the sound of the air rushing past the car windows and the music. 

“do you-” a rush of air steals the middle of the sound. “-ids?” 

“huh?” you call, leaning in closer and scrunching your face up. 

“i asked if you think you’ll ever have kids,” satoru clarifies, calling a little louder so that you can hear. 

you jerk your head to look at him, furrowing your eyebrows. he looks oddly inquisitive, like the energy of the night as brought out some hidden vulnerability in him.

“the hell are you asking me that right now for?” you laugh a little. 

satoru shrugs, leaning close by your ear. 

“i’m just wondering,” he smiles a little, lopsided and dangerously confident in the way satoru was then, like he’s wearing a mask. 

you think on it for a moment before shaking your head. “i don’t know! probably not! depends if i live that long, i guess.” 

you laugh off the bleakness of the statement and satoru nods, rolling his eyes. you see the flash of blue as he does over the rim of his glasses and jostle him a little with your arm in response. 

he starts to lean back towards the window, but you catch him before he can. 

“what about you?”

satoru looks at you for a moment, his face unreadable. you can see his eyes over the rim of his glasses, turning over the possibility and responsibility of children. he thinks on it, before his lips quirk up into a little smile. whatever expression of thought he wore before fades away as it shifts into one of smooth confidence. 

“nah,” he breathes, sinking deeper into the seat and tilting his head up, “never.” 

then, he reaches over and takes your hand in his, turning his head to look back of the window again. satoru’s fingers interlace with yours and he offers them one little squeeze without turning to look at you. briefly, you wonder about what he’s thinking in the seat beside you. you wonder if he’s thinking about the future, about one with you, despite his reluctance to admit real feelings for you at this point. 

you turn away, still gripping his hand, back toward the air whipping past the car window. you feel it on your forehead and on your arms, raising goosebumps. the music, blares from the speakers, flooding the back from the front seat of the car where shoko and suguru sit oblivious. the world in the front of the car is separate from the one in the back. for now, you and satoru exist in a bubble. maybe you always have. 

--- 

“she’s so beautiful,” he mutter, running his finger down the bridge of her little nose. 

“she looks like you,” you say softly, crouching beside him. 

satoru turns to you, eyebrows raised like he’s shocked to hear it. 

“you think?” 

“mhm,” you hum, nodding your head a little. 

satoru’s face flushes and you see the way his chest catches a little as he looks back down at the baby perched on his chest. then, she rouses, woken up but the disruption in satoru’s breathing. 

she blinks sleep away, bleary and tired, and satoru immediately croons at her. he tilts his head gently as she rolls hers over his chest to look at him, leaving behind the little wet spot where she’d previously been drooling. 

she hasn’t been asleep long, only a few minutes, and you suspect from her face that she’ll go back to sleep soon, maybe in 20 minutes and probably in the same position she was in before. 

satoru reaches up to touch the wisps of hair by her ear. 

“hey,” he says lightly, “you drool when you sleep, did you know?” 

your daughter just blinks at him, listening to his voice but not registering what he’s said. she babbles sleepily and turns to look at you, peering at you with satoru’s eyes had he not been born with the six eyes. 

“do you want to go to bed?” he asks her, shifting his arm under her to stand up from the loveseat he’s in, “i bet you do, let’s go to bed.” 

you watch as he gathers her into his arms and lets her little head rest on his collarbone. satoru mumbles to her the entire walk to her room, saying little things without much meaning as the child begins to doze off again on his shoulder. 

you watch him walk away, smiling when he tosses you an elated but slightly nervous expression that he’s been wearing often lately. 

his soft voice recedes and you think briefly about his answer in the car that night when the music was playing loud and the air against the car windows thundered as you sped through the tunnel. it’s hard to believe that you are the same people you were then. it’s hard to have thought to guess where you’d end up or who you would both become. the things about you that never changed and the things that could have never stayed the same. still, you think about his answer then—a lie now—and thank the universe for the afterglow.

[qcoded]

In the Baby Collector Au, I feel like Hunter would be like an Older Brother/Cousin to The Collector!!

But of course, I don't think Belos can keep coming up with reasons as to why the toddler hasn't aged in about 10+ years.. must be the genetics

[tennessoui]

wip wednesday (early cause im offline tmrw)

When the dust settles, Obi-Wan is surprised to find himself still standing.

It takes all of him, he thinks, the end of the war. It takes everything he has.

He used to wonder, in a distant, nebulous way, what it would feel like in the aftermath. How his life would return to the routines he held before Geonosis, if the cadence of Temple life would feel strange and unfamiliar to him after so long spent in the trenches. If he would miss the sound of his men behind and around him, the steady stream of words and laughter and presence of others, at all times, surrounding him.

It’s only when the dust settles, when the first grains of sand whip through the arid desert air to sting his eyes, that he realizes that every time he ever allowed himself to think about the end of the war, he’d always assumed that they would win. He had never truly thought they would be defeated. That the Jedi Order, the Temple itself, so strongly entrenched in the galaxy and in Coruscant and in Obi-Wan’s world view, were capable of falling.

He had cautioned others against the same assumptions the moment he heard them. He had warned his own padawan to not look too far into the future, to not plan too much for the war’s end. He had told many people—clones, civilians, holonet reporters, other Jedi—that it was dangerous to think of the war as something they would inevitably win. Nothing was inevitable, especially not victory.

But he realizes now, only now, only as he traverses the desert on the back of a stolen eopie, wearing robes still smelling so strongly of volcanic sulfur that his eyes are stinging with reactionary tears, that he’d thought. He’d always thought. 

He’d never really considered…this.

This aftermath, where he is still standing on shaking legs and everything that he has ever cared for in the world has become ash, has become the dust settling around him.

Everything he has ever known and loved and fought for has slipped through his fingers. When the dust settles, when he looks down at his hands, he expects to find them empty.

Instead, there is a baby in his arms.

And he knows—he knows intimately how much damage these hands are capable of. What hurt these hands can inflict even on those he loves. Loved. 

He knows, as the homestead rises up in the fading light of the two suns, that these hands should not cradle this baby. Not the son of the man he has murdered. Not his brother’s son. Not his padawan’s. Not Anakin’s.

He knows the babe is safest here on this farm in the care of this couple. He knows he must leave the child with them, to raise and love a thousand times better than he is capable of. He has tried before. He has failed one Skywalker already.

He knows. 

And he can’t. He cannot let him go.

While the Galactic empire rises on one side of the galaxy, the dust settles on the other and Obi-Wan Kenobi looks down at the babe in his hands and realizes that he cannot let him go.

Not another Skywalker.

[captainhysunstuff]

14 more images below the cut (WARNING: Implied homophobia and talk of disownment):

It’s Sayu’s turn to have some one-on-one time with Light.  Light’s a bit mortified to find out that she’d been busy.  Namely, upping her nosiness and straining her imagination in an effort to figure out where he disappeared to and why their father would disown him.

To be clear:  Sayu has progressive views regarding sexuality here.  She fully accepts the possibility that Light is gay, and she would never judge him for it.  Something wasn’t clicking with the disownment story, and she only wanted to know the full truth of where her brother went.

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Transcript

[booperbeanv3]

too much to drink

[blujaydoodles]

it was barely even loose, she just wanted to see if this actually works

[en-chi-la-da]

idk about the otaku thing but i love the idea of his mother reading manga to him and that’s why he likes reading to his hamsters as well and oops, here’s my portrayal of what i think gundhams mother would look like :0

[ex-january]

look at my dirkjake fankids

[howtodrawyourdragon]

So the Rtte episode "Family on the Edge" is basically "Family Feuds: the episode", right? But it's not just Dagur and Heather, it's more than that. It's Dagur, Heather, and Hiccup.

Heather is already angry at Dagur for his past crimes, but then she gets angry at Hiccup for hiding Dagur and she feels betrayed by him.

Dagur is annoyed at first because Hiccup didn't tell the other Dragon Riders that he saved his and Toothless' lives and then he gets upset again because Hiccup hid Heather from him just like he hid Dagur from Heather.

And then, Dagur gets mad at Hiccup again because he doesn't want Heather involved in a suicide mission.

What happens after Dagur is imprisoned for finding out about their current mission? You guessed it! Heather is giving Hiccup her "I told you so"s about Dagur potentially being a spy when it looks like Dagur broke out.

In the meantime, Hiccup is trying to keep Dagur away from Heather while trying to change Heather's view on Dagur.

He's also the one to notice when Heather calls Dagur her brother at the end of the episode, when it appears like Dagur sacrificed himself to save Heather and the Dragon Riders.

Basically, this episode is these three getting into difficult family drama with Hiccup as the baby sibling caught in the middle who just wants to keep the peace and keep his other two siblings from hurting each other.

There's just a lot of sibling-esque in fighting between these three in particular. And this is made particularly obvious when Dagur calls Hiccup "our little brother".

[pollyna]

During the summer of his sixteenth birthday, Ice teaches him how to drive a car. During the first lesson, Mav and Slider sit in the backseat, but three miles down the road, Ice kicks them out and leaves them in the middle of nowhere because kids have better behaviour than you two.

It's the same summer Mav and him fix the Bronco, and Slider finds the perfect blue to repaint it.

In September, Bradley drives them to the airport, his driver's licence proudly displayed in his wallet and tissues strewn about because seeing his father and uncle deployed still makes him cry a little, even after all these years.

Ice hugs him against his chest and Bradley wants to never let him go because summer was too short and he promised to let Bradley take them to his favourite spot after he passed his test. We're going to get there, okay baby goose? he asks, before kissing him on the forehead once I'm back, whether it's winter or summer. Okay, dad, okay he answers, already half engulfed in his uncle's arms.

By the time Ice and Slider are back, a year and a half has almost gone by, Bradley is studying to pass with a straight A to go to Annapolis, and then he's out of the door and out of their lives because of a promise Maverick won't talk about.

He returns after the mission. Fifteen years are gone, and so is most of Ice's strength and voice. Bradley's  taller than he is, but his car is as blue as the day he left home.

(Uncle Slider-he-he sent me the colour after that time I was on his carrier. He-just sent them dad he finds himself confessing over a beer after dinner.)

They're making progress day by day, but it is still difficult because it feels like they are strangers one to the other, and yet Ice knows him so well. Dad? he asks one afternoon, days after the mission is done and the bruises all over his body are nothing but memories. Ice inclines his head a little, giving him his whole attention. I was thinking, do you remember when I was sixteen and you promised you'd let me drive us to our favourite spot? Maybe we could go? Now or when you want? Bradley's hands are shaking a little, and he's hoping that his dad isn't going to say no, because that would break his heart all over again. He wants to mend what was broken, but he's so scared he won't be able to if he does say no. But Ice is already on his feet, walking around the house, picking up things and putting them all in a bag. He is already one foot outside the door, keys in his hands, when he watches Bradley and signs so? What are we waiting for?

Bradley laughs, their favourite songs already playing in his mind and then on the radio, miles in front of them and a whole day to be shared. He feels like he could cry.

His dad's hand is warm against his cheek when he touches his face. He's smiling when he signs a step at a time, baby goose and I love you.

Bradley smiles back. Yeah, a step at a time. They can do this.

[scarlethoodi]

Luz Noceda, the human, stares at her reflection in the mirror.

She is unsure who stares back.

Reading @marztheincredible amazing fic “Titan’s Blessing” and with all the elements I enjoy from the story Liz’s slow yet steady transition from human to witch is one I can’t wait to see through.

[marshmellowtea]

Y.N.: I can’t believe Mark fell asleep in the car. What does he expect me to do, carry him inside???

Damien: Well, ARE you going to carry him inside?

Y.N.: …

Y.N., sighing regretfully but fondly: Yeah, of course I am…

[appleimps]

I feel like the implication has always been that the 100 year cycle of a single Gerudo male being born was broken with Ganondorf because he refuses to die or stay dead LOL