Stede took a careful seat beside him on the couch, resting one hand on Ed’s bad knee. The baby was swaddled in what looked like one of his silk robes—light blue, with pastel pink and green flowers. She had a tuft of dark hair and her nose was tipped ever-so-slightly red. Ed’s arms, exposed in his purple crop top, were trembling as he held her.

“Hello there,” Stede whispered, tucking the robe a little firmer around her tiny body with his free hand. “Aren’t you a lovely thing?”

OR, the crew of the Revenge find a baby. Or maybe she finds them.

“She’s nine months old. She can’t eat fucking jam tarts. She can’t eat any tarts. She don’t even have any fucking teeth!”

Kate hisses from the door of the hospital room, “Clint Barton, I told you, don’t make this weird.”

“You already used my sperm for your miracle baby,” Clint says, absent and casual like it’s no big deal. Bucky blinks at Kate over Clint’s shoulder as Kate rolls her eyes. “I think it’s already weird.”

“And it’ll be weirder if you hook up with a stranger in the hallway. At least go home with him. Jesus, Clint.”

Clint lifts his head and blinks down at Bucky and then grins. “Take me home with you?” he asks, like there’s a chance in hell Bucky’s gonna say no.

In which Bucky picks up a pretty blond at the bar and gets much more than he bargained for.

“Well,” said Peter, looking over the destruction that had overtaken the drawing room. “I suppose it was a fairly accurate retelling of the siege of Troy. Although I do fancy there was rather less throwing of pillows and more severe bloodshed in the event.”

When Barney Barton dies and leaves behind two feral children who’ve never seen the inside of a classroom, it’s just the last fuck up in a life marked by fuck ups.

Clint knows all about the government’s extensive networks of foster families, though, and he’s determined to do his best to keep Kate and Lila out of it.

But he might need a little help. Luckily, Bucky’s got some experience with feral children.

After a mission, Nile brings Nicky home to his family.

“Are you…Patrick?” It doesn’t make sense, but then again, nothing about Ray’s businesses makes much sense.

To be honest, there’s not a lot about David’s life that makes sense these days.

The kid giggles suddenly, like David has said something funny instead of being quite possibly the only rational human in the entire building. “I’m Jamie,” they say. “Patrick’s my dad.”

The creature stirs. She squirm-drags herself down until she’s on Ryan’s belly, and then she noses at the pocket of his hoodie. Ryan gently tucks her in so only her head is visible, and they both watch as she sighs happily and burrows into the warmth.

Ryan looks up at him, beaming. It is, Shane has to admit, very cute.

“Ryan Bergara, Father of Goat-Dragons,” Shane says. “I can’t believe she already likes you best.”

“Yeah, well,” Ryan says. “You tried to name her Snooki and turn her over to the state of California, so you reap what you sow.”

OR: Ryan and Shane film a Supernatural episode in the Pine Barrens on the elusive Jersey Devil. They don’t manage to find it, but a few months after filming, one definitely finds them. And it’s decided they’d make great adoptive parents.

An episode at Talboys.

Derek has said two fucking words to him after almost eight years, and Stiles can’t stop obsessing about it.

or -

Stiles is trying to cope with the surprise arrival of a daughter he never knew about, and Derek Hale insinuating himself into his life again isn’t helping. Honestly.

Parenting: expectations versus reality.

Thomas Nightingale is widely regarded as the most dangerous wizard in Europe. Nobody has told my eighteen-month-old daughter this. It shows.

It is Etta that notices it first. Her mouth curls into a small smile, but the rest of her face bears a mask of deep, deep sorrow. “It’s nothing,” Etta tells her when Diana presses at her, the lie deep but harmless. It had been the same sorrow that Diana had felt inside herself realizing what she carried.

They’d not even had a body to bury, ashes to scatter beyond those blown into the sky amongst the parts of the plane that sunk down to earth. This, the life inside of her, is the last piece of Steve on this earth.

–

Steve leaves something behind.

It’s an embarrassing cliché, I know, but there was an actual basket, made of what looked to be actual wicker, actually sitting there. It was oval and large and had spaces for handholds on either end; for a minute, I thought it was full of laundry, and my mind spun an image of a ghost laundress. Then the small hand emerged from the basket, waved around for a minute, and smacked down again.

They stare at each other, half-grinning, and Derek knows it’s definitely the absolute wrong time for this, but he wants. He wants to grin at Stiles over dinner every day for the rest of his life, baffled over yams and Moon Pie Day, and, god, crap, goddamn, when the fuck did he have time to fall in love?

Or

The life and times of Deputy Stiles and Supernatural Foster Dad Derek Hale

Finn can’t remember his first night away from his family. Perhaps he was too young to know what was happening; perhaps he cried and tried to cling, too. But in the First Order, who was there to cling to? If there was somebody, for the very young, Finn doesn’t remember them either. It’s probably for the best.

And now here Thomas is, in Peter and Beverley’s house more nights than not, with a change of clothes he keeps in the dresser, on the regular rota for picking and dropping Laura off when needed, his own spot on their couch and his own bed in their home and it’s wonderful, Thomas wouldn’t give it up for anything, but–it’s certainly unusual.

John has feelings for his couch.

Clint and Natasha meet when she picks up her daughter from Clint’s classroom, and talk out how they’ll make it work

A few shore leaves, scheduled maintenance, a birthday party, a date, three letters, five other doctors, two whatevers, and one little girl.