#got asked by my 6 year old nephew how old i was and then he followed up with 'well why arent you married what are you doing' | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

munson-blurbs · 11 months

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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

Summary: Thanksgiving brings back memories of happier times, and all you want is to recreate the past. But when those plans go awry, Eddie--and Harris, of course--are there to help you look forward to the future.

Warnings: mentions of Eddie's parents, brief familial conflict, Reader's grandma has dementia, most of this chapter is fluffy tbh

WC: 6.8k

Chapter 8/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @vexed-n-hexed Divider credit to @saradika

Thanksgiving, 1975

The sound of the kitchen timer beeping draws nine-year-old Eddie Munson’s attention from the television set. The local news network had been replaying the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade on a loop. It was now the third time that Eddie had watched Santa Claus make his way into Herald Square in a comically oversized sleigh, but he couldn’t get enough of it. The colorful balloons that hovered over the crowd, the marching bands playing in perfect unison, the feeling of excitement in the air—it was palpable all the way from his new home in Hawkins, Indiana.

“Dinner’s ready,” Wayne announces, grabbing the worn mitt off of the counter and pulling two TV dinners from the oven. “‘S not much, but at least we got turkey and mashed potatoes,” he bashfully adds.

Eddie nods, trying to walk without taking his eyes off of the screen.

Wayne’s bushy brows pinch together as he watches his nephew. “You always get this into the parade?” he asks.

“Never seen it before,” Eddie says softly. His parents had had a TV for a couple of years until they’d pawned it, but he doesn’t recall ever watching a parade. “Pretty cool.”

“We can keep it on while we eat, if ya want,” Wayne tells him, smiling when he sees the boy’s face light up. He places the plastic trays on the snack table and heads back to grab forks. “Ya got a favorite balloon? I’m partial to Snoopy, if y’ask me.”

Eddie nods, still transfixed on the TV. “Yeah, Snoopy’s good. I like him.” He takes the utensil from Wayne’s outstretched hand, absentmindedly dipping it in the congealed mashed potatoes. He pauses for a beat before bringing it to his lips. “Do I have to go back?”

“Hm?” Wayne mumbles, too focused on his own food to fully hear him.

“Do I have to go back with them when they get out?” Eddie repeats, keeping his voice low and training his gaze on the floor. “‘Cause I like it better here. With you. ‘S nice and quiet.”

There’s a lurch in Wayne’s chest at Eddie’s request. “Technically, I only have ya till your folks are sprung,” he admits, scratching a nail against the table, “but I can talk to a lawyer or somethin’ about keeping you here longer. Only if you want,” he adds.

“I wanna stay here,” Eddie confirms, spearing a pale turkey slice and popping it in his mouth without any attempt to cut it. “If it’s okay with you. I can sleep on the cot an’ you can take your bed back.”

Wayne shakes his head. “Room’s yours, Ed.” He takes a deep breath. “I don’t wanna promise you that the courts will agree to it, but I’m gonna try my damndest to keep you safe.” And it’s true. He’ll work double overtime at the plant if it’ll cover legal fees. When the social worker dropped Eddie off last week, Wayne had no idea how either of them would adjust. But aside from a few growing pains—like having to shave his nephew’s head when they’d discovered he’d had lice—things seemed to be alright.

“I, um, I wrote something at school yesterday,” Eddie pipes up, traipsing to his backpack and pulling out a sheet of paper. In his sloppy, boyish handwriting is written:

I am thankful for my Uncle Wayne because he takes care of me. He’s really nice and he works hard and he doesn’t mind that I listen to loud music. He also lets me feed my dinner scraps to the stray dogs in his trailer park. My Uncle Wayne is the best. I hope he’s thankful for me, too.

Wayne feels his throat constrict, and he clears it before Eddie can catch on. “‘Course I’m thankful for ya, Ed,” he manages. He reaches out to put his hand on his nephew’s back, flinching when the boy jerks away nervously. Eddie’s reflex to defend himself rather than embrace touch stirs up a reserved anger Wayne didn’t know he had, and he wills himself to simmer down before his nephew can sense it, lest he think he’s angry at him.

He slowly brings his hand to the couch cushion, careful not to make too much noise. We’ll get there, he thinks as the parade starts up for a fourth time. We’ll get there.

Thanksgiving, 1978

Ten years old is a strange age.

Too old to play with the little kids, but too young to hang around the teenagers or adults. You’re just kind of…there, like a piece of furniture that everyone absently walks around. This hiss of beer cans opening is barely audible over the men shouting at the football game on TV. You don’t know who’s playing, and you don’t really care, but it’s the only place you feel like you’ll be out of the way. Taking a seat on the floor, you remain there generally unnoticed until one of your uncles calls out your name.

“Couldja get me a refill?” Uncle Tim slurs, shaking his empty can of Bud Light to emphasize his request. Before you can respond, he throws a, “thanks, kid” and goes back to yelling at the football players.

It’s not like they can hear you through the screen, you snidely think, but you keep your comment to yourself as you pad into the kitchen. A collection of spices tickles your nose, the mixture of cloves and garlic and thyme and rosemary warming the room. You rummage through the refrigerator until you feel someone bump up against you.

“What are you doing in there?” Your aunt asks, disapproval carving her already sharp features. Her gaze drops to the can in your hand. “Seriously? Trying to sneak beer right in front of us?” she scoffs.

Grandma quickly becomes aware of the commotion, and she wipes her hand on her sunny yellow apron as she assesses the situation. “Everything okay?” Her soft eyes are concerned, not accusing, and you feel your anxiety slowly dissipating.

“I caught her trying to steal some beer,” your aunt reports proudly, as though she’s caught some serial offender, and you have to fight the urge to roll your eyes. “Not even a teenager yet and already getting into this kind of trouble.” She shakes her head with a tsk.

“No, I wasn’t,” you insist, setting your jaw in defiance. “Uncle Tim asked me to get some more for him. That’s all.”

“Tim!” Grandma calls out, tone thick with irritation. “Get over here!”

Uncle Tim trudges out to the kitchen, head already hung low in anticipation of the tongue-lashing he’s about to receive. He may be a grown man, but his mother can easily put him in his place.

Grandma folds her arms across her chest. “Why are you having your niece fetch your drinks like a barmaid? Your legs broken or something?”

“No,” he mumbles, taking the beer from your hand and haphazardly tossing a “sorry” in your direction before returning to the game.

“C’mere,” Grandma beckons you, crooking her finger to join her at the counter. She’s got a bowl of Granny Smith apples, half of them peeled, their green skins piling on the cutting board in front of her. She hands you the peeler, picking up a sharp knife and cutting a peeled apple lengthwise and cubing each slice. “Help me out. It goes a lot faster when there’s two of us. And it’ll keep you out of trouble,” she adds with a wink.

You grab an unpeeled apple from the pile and drag the tool down its curve, repeating the motion until the inner fruit is exposed before starting on the next one. You and Grandma work in tandem; you peel and she chops in a comfortable silence. As you’re finishing up the last of the bunch, she leans over and whispers in your ear, “Don’t tell anyone, but you’re the best helper I’ve ever had.” She starts placing the cubed pieces into a pot, shaking the cinnamon container over it until she takes a satisfied step back, no measuring spoon required. “Mix it together for me?”

You nod eagerly and pluck the wooden spoon from the canister behind the sink, dunking it into the pot and stirring until the apples are fully coated in cinnamon. “That good?” you ask, giving another stir for good measure.

“Perfect.” Grandma smiles, covering the mixture with water and setting it on an empty burner, twisting the knob until the coil turns red. “Once it softens up, you can mash it. Give these old arms a break,” she teases gently.

“You’re not old!” you protest, and she smacks a kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you, kiddo,” she murmurs, voice muffled against your scalp. “To the moon and back.”

You wrap your arms around her waist and squeeze her tight. “I love you, too. To the moon and back.”

Thanksgiving, 1996

“Daddy, look! It’s Santa!” Harris points at the TV excitedly, bouncing up and down on the couch. He kicks his feet and squeals. “He’s gonna come to our house, right? An’ bring me presents?”

Eddie chuckles as he spreads mayonnaise on white bread, layering thin turkey slices on top. Three sandwiches for three Munsons. “I dunno, Har-Bear; have you been good this year?”

Harris scrunches up his face in contemplation. “Um, I think so,” he answers honestly. “I can’t remember.”

“Hey, Wayne?” Eddie calls out as his uncle walks out of the bathroom. “Has Harris been good this year? I feel like he’s been a bit…mischievous.”

Wayne shakes his head. “My angel of a grandson? He’s never caused mischief a day in his little life!” He sits down next to Harris, letting out a small grunt as his bottom hits the sofa cushion.

“Yeah! I never cause mischief a day in my little life!” Harris echoes confidently. He turns to his grandfather. “Grampa, what is Santa gonna bring you for Christmas?”

“A toupée,” Eddie says from the tiny kitchen, piling their plates with potato chips. Normally, he’d make sure there was a fruit or vegetable on there, but it’s a holiday.

Wayne has to hold his tongue in front of the impressionable young boy, though he shoots Eddie an inconspicuous middle finger when he’s setting the plates on the coffee table.

The three Munsons tuck into their sandwiches and crunch on the chips. This is how Thanksgiving has been since Eddie moved back with Harris: watching the parade followed by an early lunch so Wayne could pick up a shift at the plant. He always insisted on it, saying that the holiday pay helps offset the cost of Christmas presents. It was quiet, but nice, and Eddie couldn’t ask for anything else.

“Y’know,” Wayne says to Harris with a mouthful of sandwich, “the first time your Daddy watched the parade was with me. And now, we got to watch it with you.” He bumps his arm against Harris’s, making the boy giggle.

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie muses, chomping on a potato chip thoughtfully as the memories flood back in. “Forgot about that. Is Snoopy still your favorite, Old Man?”

Wayne considers this. “Hmm. Who’s our favorite balloon this year, Har?”

“Clifford!” Harris answers without missing a beat, kicking his little legs in excitement. Eddie should’ve known; the boy was damn near obsessed with dogs.

Once we can afford a house with a yard, I’m getting you that puppy, Har-Bear, he thinks, though he doesn’t dare make the promise aloud.

“Then that’s mine, too.” Wayne brushes the crumbs off of his lap, calloused hands scratching the worn denim of his jeans. There’s a twinkle in his eye as he adds, “I wonder what Ms. Sweetheart’s favorite balloon is.” He acts like he’s speaking to Harris, but Eddie knows it was aimed at him.

Harris claps his hands together gleefully. “I know! Let’s call her!” He turns to Eddie with the sweetest puppy-dog eyes the man has ever seen, lower lip jutted out exaggeratedly in the most precious pout. “Please, Daddy? Pleasepleasepleaseplease–”

“Okay, okay,” Eddie says with a laugh, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. “Once you finish up lunch, we can call her.” Harris opens his mouth to protest that he wants to call right now, but Eddie cuts him off before he can start. “Ah ah; no whining, or we won’t call.”

Harris harrumphs but ultimately complies, taking another bite of his food. Wayne gives Eddie a small thumbs-up, and he preens slightly at the acknowledgment of his parenting win. They didn’t happen very often, and they rarely happened when someone was around to witness them. He takes a long gulp of water; as soon as he does, his son lifts his own cup to his lips and takes a sip. Another reminder that he’s watching, even subconsciously, wanting to be just like his dad.

For a split second, Eddie allows himself to believe that that might not be a bad thing.

“‘M done!” Harris chirps; sure enough, his plate is clean, save for the bread crusts. He squirms a bit in his seat, a gesture that Eddie has come to learn means only one thing.

“Go pee while I find her number,” Eddie tells him, purposely omitting the fact that he’s already committed those seven digits to memory. In case of an emergency, he thinks, and I don’t have the slip of paper on me.

Wayne can sense that his nephew isn’t being completely truthful; as soon as Harris closes the bathroom door behind him, he starts in with a shit-eating grin.

“Y’don’t need to find her number, do ya?”

Eddie flicks off an imaginary speck of dust on his shirts. “Knock it off, Wayne.” But he doesn’t move from his spot on the couch, further affirming his uncle’s point.

“Look, Ed,” Wayne exhales, adopting a more serious tone. “You clearly like this girl. I mean, all Harris did was say her name and you smiled–don’t give me that look,” he chastises lightly when Eddie rolls his eyes. “I know you two didn’t exactly get off on the right foot, but all that seems to be in the past now, right?”

“Guess so,” Eddie mumbles. “But not hating me doesn’t mean she’s into me. Maybe she’s only being nice to me because of Harris.”

The older Munson pauses, scratching at the stubble on his cheeks; his reflex when he’s deep in thought. “One date,” he challenges, holding up his forefinger to emphasize his point. “Ask her on one date, and see where it goes.”

“Fine,” Eddie relents, the nerves already churning in his stomach. You’d just found this good rhythm together, and he was going to risk messing it up. Again. “I’ll ask her. But on one condition.”

“Whas’ that?”

“Don’t say anything to Harris.” He crosses his arms over his chest when Wayne chuckles. “‘M serious, Wayne. I don’t want him getting his hopes up. For Chrissakes, I gave her a tape and the kid had us getting married.”

“Fair enough,” Wayne agrees, clamping his mouth shut when he sees the little boy enter the room. “You wash your hands?”

“Yep!”

“With soap?” he presses, narrowing his eyes.

Harris heaves an impatient sigh. “Yes! Can we call now?”

Both Wayne and Harris keep their eyes glued to Eddie as he punches in the numbers. When it starts ringing, he holds out the receiver to his son. “Say hi and your name when she picks up,” he reminds him, grateful for the opportunity to collect himself before asking you on a date. He takes a deep breath, shoving his hands in his pockets and gnawing on his lower lip so forcefully that he swears it might bleed.

You got this, Munson. The worst she can say is no.

But that’s not quite true, is it? The worst you can do is laugh in his face, leaving him a rejected mess. Scratch that–the worst you could do is accept the date, have him fall head over heels in love with you, then leave him in the dust to pick up the pieces while you move on with someone better.

Maybe you won’t pick up the phone. Maybe he’ll have more time to–

“Hi, Ms. Sweetheart! It’s me, Harris!”

It was a small thing. Miniscule, even. Just your meager attempt at reclaiming part of the past that had been lost to time and disease. A simple family recipe, apples boiled and mashed into a sauce that you’d hoped even vaguely resembled the way Grandma made it. A tiny cut on your fingertip serves as a battle wound from peeling, the sweet aroma of cinnamon still lingering in the kitchen.

You try to convince yourself that it isn’t a big deal. It’s just applesauce. But the thought falls flat as you stare into the trash can. You can still see all of your work literally tossed away through the tears that blur your vision.

You’d left the room for two minutes, two goddamn minutes, and when you came back, the plastic pink bowl that held the applesauce was nowhere to be found. You could’ve sworn you left it on the counter, but maybe you’d already put it away? A quick scan of the refrigerator gave you nothing but a chill. Where the hell did it go? Were you losing your mind?

A rogue apple peel had fallen to the floor, and you scooped it up, flustered at how you could have misplaced an entire bowl of applesauce. Sure, it wasn’t as much as when you and Grandma made it for the whole family, but it was still a decent amount. Your foot presses the pedal that lifts the bin’s lid, and that’s when you see it.

“Grandma?” you choke out, looking over to where she’s sitting on the couch. She doesn’t respond, and you raise your voice a bit to grab her attention. “Grandma, why did you throw out the applesauce?”

Her empty gaze briefly flits over to where you’re standing, not even registering the burgeoning frustration and sadness coursing through your veins. “Wasn’t me,” she says flatly, scratching at the side of her nose with a jagged nail. Before dementia, her nails were always painted bright hues of red or blue; now, it was difficult enough to get her to leave the house for essential doctor’s appointments. You weren’t going to put up a fight trying to get her to the salon.

You know you should just close the lid and walk away instead of torturing yourself by continuing to look, but your feet are glued to the linoleum floor. A cold drop of something lands on your toes, and that’s when you realize that you’re crying. Crying over goddamn applesauce.

All you wanted was some semblance of normalcy, something reminiscent of life before Grandma got sick and your family still felt whole. But what you got was a thickening realization that you can’t relive the past, no matter how hard you try.

The ringing phone startles you from your wallowing. You have half a mind to ignore it, but you know that Grandma will just grumble about how she hates the sound of it, so you pick up the receiver and answer with a shaky, “H-Hello?”

“Hi, Ms. Sweetheart! It’s me, Harris!” A little voice chirps through the other end. You can hear Eddie mumbling something, though you can’t quite make out what he’s saying. “Happy Thanksgiving! What’s your favorite balloon?” There’s more hushed speaking from Eddie, and Harris huffs out, “Daddy, stop! I know what to say!”

“My favorite balloon from the parade?” you ask, biting back a giggle.

“Mhm! I like Clifford,” he tells you.

You’d kept the parade on in the background, catching glimpses of it every now and again. Shit, what balloons did you see? “Clifford’s a good one,” you agree, “but I think the Rocky and Bullwinkle one was my favorite.”

Harris laughs so loudly that you have to pull the phone from your ear. “The squirrel and the moose?” he guffaws. “Ms. Sweetheart, that’s so silly!” You’re about to ask him how his holiday is going when he says, “Hold on, my daddy wants to talk to you.”

Your heart skips a beat at the prospect of talking to Eddie, and you wipe the tears from your wet cheeks as though he’ll be able to see them through the phone.

“Hey, Happy Thanksgiving!” he says. Something resembling trepidation tinges his tone, though you’re not sure why. Could he still be anxious to approach you after he confided in you at the parent-teacher conference? After he’d watched you panic when Grandma locked herself in her room?

You swallow, trying to choke down the sadness rising within you. “Yeah, y-you, too.” Despite your best efforts, your voice breaks on the last word, and you hope Eddie doesn’t catch it.

But of course he does.

“You okay?” he asks with a nervous chuckle. “‘Cause it kinda sounds like you’re crying.”

“‘M fine. Just, um, chopping onions,” you lie, hoping you’ve done a convincing job.

“For the…applesauce you’re making?” Eddie sees right through you; you’d forgotten that you’d told him and Harris about your plan during your weekly post-tutoring dinner last night. “Not gonna lie, that sounds even nastier than olives on pizza.”

You manage a laugh, but it’s disfigured by the catch in your throat. “The applesauce was a bust, unfortunately,” you admit. “I left the kitchen for a second and Grandma chucked it in the trash.”

“All of it?” he asks incredulously, letting out a deep exhale when you confirm that she did, in fact, throw out the entire bowl. “Jesus H. I’m so sorry. Is that what’s got you upset?”

“Mhm. I know it’s stupid, ‘s just applesauce, but–”

“‘S not stupid,” Eddie interrupts softly, and you twist the phone cord around your pointer finger with the sudden drop of his tone. “I know you were really looking forward to it.” He pauses, and you wonder for a moment if the line’s gone dead before he says, “We’re coming over. Me and Harris. Be there in twenty; fifteen, if I don’t have to argue with him about wearing a jacket.”

Before you can protest, he really does hang up. You look down at the baggy sweats and college t-shirt you’re wearing; you weren’t expecting any guests today, let alone the Munson boys. You should probably throw on some actual pants, and a bit of mascara couldn’t hurt, either.

You find a pair of jeans that aren’t buried under a mountain of laundry and tug them over your thighs before quickly swiping some makeup on your face. It’s enough to mask your exhaustion while still looking natural.

It dawns on you that you’re not quite sure why you suddenly care so much about your appearance. Harris couldn’t care less, and Eddie…well, even if Eddie did care, why would that matter to you? He’s your tutee’s parent; a new friend at most. On more than one occasion, you’ve answered the door to Jess with a wicked case of bedhead. Why does Eddie Munson of all people make you feel the need to look halfway decent?

When the buzzer sounds, you nearly jump out of your own skin. “It’s us,” Eddie says into the speaker; the smoothness of his voice has your stomach in knots. “And we come bearing gifts. Well, one gift, I guess.”

“Fuck off,” Grandma mumbles from the couch, cranking up the TV volume to an ungodly loud level. One of the Law & Order detectives says–no, screams–something about a murder, and you quickly reach for the remote and click the power button.

“We have company,” you tell her, and she just grunts in response. Hopefully her mood will change in the minute it will take Eddie and Harris to get to your apartment. You can hear them down the hallway, so you open the door just as they’re about to knock.

Eddie takes a step back in surprise. “You psychic or somethin’?” he laughs, looking down at his son and giving him a small nudge. “Go ahead, you can give it to her.”

Your gaze drops to the curly-haired boy standing by his father’s side. He’s holding a brightly colored package of off-brand Oreos, which he brings closer to his chest, pressing it tightly against his zippered sweatshirt. “It’s s’posed to be a surprise,” he reminds Eddie, wide-eyed with genuine concern.

“Only until we got here,” Eddie says gently, soft brown eyes encouraging Harris to hand you the cookies. He brings his attention back to you. “I know it’s not the same as making applesauce with your grandma, but I’ve never been sad eating an Oreo. An oatmeal raisin cookie, maybe. But not an Oreo.”

Now it’s your turn to smile. “You may be onto something here, Munson.” You take the package from Harris and guide the two of them to the kitchen, calling out to Grandma as you pass by. “Grandma, Eddie and Harris are here, and they brought cookies, if you wanna join us.” Her non-response is familiar at this point; the sting is much easier to brush off than it was a few short months ago. But you still feel it.

Even though Grandma isn’t at the table, Harris still climbs onto his dad’s lap. “Daddy, can I have one?” he asks, resting his dimpled chin on his palms as he glances upwards.

“Gotta ask Ms. Sweetheart,” Eddie shrugs, tickling Harris’s ribs and loudly whispering, “and ask her if your poor, hungry dad can have one, too. She can’t say no to you.”

You open the package and shake your head at his antics, sliding out the flimsy tray and offering it to them. “Of course you can have one, Harris,” you say, tone saccharine sweet. His chubby fingers darting out and snatching up a cookie before you even finish your sentence. “But I don’t know about your dad. Do you think he should get one?”

“C’mon, Har,” Eddie urges him, “us men gotta stick together. All for one and one for all, right?” He flexes his bicep; it’s an attempt to emphasize the manliness that supposedly bonds him and Harris, but the gesture has your breath catching in your throat. You sputter and cough embarrassingly, excusing yourself to pour a glass of water.

“Anyone else want?” you manage once you can speak again, holding up the ceramic pitcher.

Eddie nods, lifting Harris from his lap and placing him on the nearest empty chair. “Here, let me help you.” He stands up and calls out over his shoulder, “Grandma, how about some water?”

You’re about to tell him not to worry about it, but to your surprise, she nods. “Ya.”

“So, four waters,” Eddie reports, taking the pitcher and refilling your glass.

You grab another just like it from the cabinet before taking two blue disposable ones, plopping a bendy straw in each. “Grandma, um, she needs stuff that isn’t breakable,” you explain lamely. “And the other plastic one is for Harris.”

Eddie grins. “Thought it was for me. Y’know, always making a mess.”

“Ah, but only of your life,” you tease. “You’re pretty good with basic human functions.” Your face burns at what you’ve potentially implied, but Eddie isn’t fazed.

“Y’know what? I’m gonna take my cookies back!” he pouts, crossing his arms over his chest in mock-indignance. A piece of curly hair sticks to his lower lip with his sudden movement, and you brush it away with your thumb before you can stop yourself.

The crinkling of the fake-Oreo package draws both of your gazes, with Eddie poised to tell Harris that he’s only allowed one more. But to your surprise—and perhaps Eddie’s, too—Harris isn’t the one rifling through the tray. Grandma’s taken a seat next to the boy, handing him a cookie before taking her own. She just nibbles on it in silence, but it’s the most present she’s been in days.

“Y’like Oreos, Grandma?” Eddie asks, pouring water into the two plastic glasses and carrying one in each ringed hand. He places them on the table, and Grandma brings the straw to her lips as she nods again. He pauses for a moment, lips tucked into his mouth as he ponders something. “What kind of music does she listen to?” he asks you.

“She has a record collection over in the living room,” you tell him, pointing to the low bookshelf near the door, “but we haven’t played any in awhile. She’s kinda…weird with noises.”

He considers this, walking over to the records and thumbing through them until he finds one that he recognizes. “Could I put this one on?” He holds up the battered copy of Frank Sinatra’s It Might As Well Be Swing. “I’ll take it off if she gets upset. I just wanna try something.” He carefully slides the record from its sleeve, lifting the player’s needle and placing it on the space for the first track.

There’s a soft static as the record starts to spin, and Ol’ Blue Eyes croons:

Fly me to the moon

Let me play among the stars

Let me see what spring is like

On a-Jupiter and Mars

Eddie joins in with the next part. His voice still carries its signature rasp, but it’s noticeably smoother, warmer than the night he’d dedicated the Def Leppard song to you.

In other words, hold my hand

In other words, baby, kiss me

His eyes remain trained on the record player, but you swear you can feel the lyrics drifting towards you. The melody wraps around you like a hug, and you momentarily lose yourself in a musical embrace.

Another voice, low and timid, chimes in. You have to stifle a gasp when you realize that it’s Grandma, her lips curling into the smallest of smiles–the most joy she’s shown in a long while–as she half-sings the words.

Fill my heart with song

And let me sing for ever more

You are all I long for

All I worship and adore

“Holy shit,” you breathe out, and before you can exhale the third syllable, the world shifts back to normal. Grandma goes back to mindlessly munching on her cookie as though nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. You turn to Eddie. “What was that?”

He shrugs, suddenly feeling shy. “I read somewhere that music can, like, bring back some memories. Not permanently or anything, but I figured it was worth a shot.”

You can’t stop yourself from flinging your arms around Eddie’s neck, nearly knocking him over in the process. He pauses before he returns the gesture, pulling you tightly into him. One hand is on the small of your back; the other gently rests on the back of your head, allowing you to rest your forehead on his chest. Your tears flow freely, leaving tiny wet spots on his shirt. He doesn’t let go until you start to pull back.

“Thank you,” you whisper; when he pinches his brows in confusion, you elaborate. “You gave me back a little piece of who she was before…” you trail off, swiping at your cheeks messily. “Just…thank you.”

Eddie nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. His eyes are practically glued to your lips; this time, when his fingers brush against your palm, he hooks his pinky with yours. “‘Course,” he murmurs.

You’re not sure how long the two of you remain linked like this, joined hands swaying ever-so-slightly as Fly Me to the Moon fades out to I Wish You Love. It’s somewhere between ten seconds and ten years, because time seemingly slows to a halt.

You might stay with pinkies hooked forever if Harris doesn’t bolt from his chair, hugging your waist and looking up at you with concern.

“Ms. Sweetheart?” he asks. His wide, misty eyes indicate that he’s absorbed some of the emotion in the room, though he may not even be aware of this. “Why are you sad?” His chubby fingers grab onto the fabric of your pants.

You choke out a tearful laugh as you crouch down to meet him at his level. “I’m not sad…well, I’m sad and happy at the same time,” you try to explain, shaking your head when you realize you’re only adding to his puzzlement. “Grown-up feelings are weird sometimes, Har. But your hugs definitely help.”

With that, he squeezes you tighter, and you glance at Eddie with a full heart. He takes a step forward, scooping up Harris. You worry that you’ve crossed a line, that you’ve shown too much of your vulnerability to a four-year-old, but your fears are subdued when Eddie extends one arm and brings you back to both him and his son. Something brushes against your scalp, and you realize that he’s pressing a light kiss to the top of your head.

Harris squirms, and when Eddie puts him down, he runs over to the TV set. “Can I watch something?” It’s clear that the moment has passed, and Eddie throws you an apologetic shrug as he waits for your response.

“Sure,” you say, trying to pepper cheerfulness into your voice. It’s easier now that the wave of loneliness has passed, taking with it some of the mourning you’d clung to earlier today. You click on the TV and flip through channels until a familiar cartoon appears on the screen. “I think we’re just in time to watch A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving!” you exclaim, and Harris mirrors your enthusiasm by flinging himself onto the couch, making his dad cringe.

“Careful, little dude,” Eddie says, clicking off the record player and gently placing the vinyl back in its sleeve. “You just got that cast off a few days ago. Don’t need you to break another bone.” Certainly don’t need another hospital bill, he thinks bitterly. He takes the spot next to Harris, silently begging you to join them.

You turn to the kitchen table and put a hand on Grandma’s shoulder. “You wanna watch Charlie Brown with us?” But she rejects your invitation with a simple shake of her head, mumbling something about being tired and padding into her room.

You take the empty space to Harris’s left so that the boy is sandwiched between you and his father. He’s a small kid, but it seems like there’s an entire ocean separating you and Eddie.

“Why’s Lucy so mean?” Harris asks no one in particular. “She’s always yelling. Like Ms. Marion.” You have to stifle a giggle at that observation, and when you allow yourself a glance, you see that Eddie’s doing the same.

The first half of the movie is filled with Harris’s constant commentary; he speaks more than all of the cartoon characters combined. But he tires out eventually, though in typical four-year-old fashion, he denies his sleepiness even as he’s yawning. He fights it pretty well, you’ve got to give him credit where it’s due, but eventually, the exhaustion takes over and he lays his head on your arm. His curls tickle your elbow, and you gingerly reposition him so he’s tucked up against your side.

“You can move him over, if you get uncomfortable or somethin’. Kid sleeps like a rock. Except, y’know, when I need him to sleep.” Eddie snickers as Harris lets out the softest, tiniest snore.

You return the laughter and shake your head. “Nah, I’m good,” you reassure him, smiling at the ruddy cheek pressed against you. “Don’t tell my other students, but Harris is the cutest kid ever.”

Eddie shrugs, but you can tell that the compliment tickles him. “Well, it makes sense, since his dad is a total stud.” He waggles his eyebrows before turning his attention back to Charlie and Lucy. You’re not quite sure how to respond to that; if you play it off as a joke, you risk hurting his feelings. If you tell him the truth–

“D’you like coffee?”

His sudden, seemingly arbitrary question snaps you from your indecision. “I teach four-year-olds,” you reply lightheartedly, hoping he can’t sense your mind continuing to linger on his stud comment. “I practically have coffee running through my veins. What about you?”

“I have a four-year-old, so, same.” He clears his throat, seemingly double-checking that his son is still sound asleep. His leg is bouncing up and down, and he nearly has to press on his knee to get it to stop. “Um, Harris is going to a birthday party next Saturday morning if you wanted to get some with me? Get some coffee, I mean.” He silently chastises himself, wondering if he’d ever been suave around women or if it had just been the unearned confidence of a young man in his early twenties convincing him that he had.

“Like...like a date?” Fuck, do you sound too eager? “Because if you feel like you owe me a date after…after our night at the bar, you don’t have to. I forgave you after you gave me those M&Ms, remember?”

“Yeah…wait, no. Hold on.” Eddie holds up his pointer finger as he collects his thoughts. He could deny that it’s a date altogether and throw out some bullshit lie about it just being something between friends. But he promised Wayne, promised himself that he’d give this a shot. “Yes, I’m asking you on a date. No, it’s not because I feel like I owe you one–although I definitely do,” he adds with a goofy grin that sends flutters to your stomach. “It’s because, fuck, I can’t stop thinking about you, and how happy you make me–and Harris, too–and how I get kinda nervous around you, which makes no sense because you’re, like, the nicest fuckin’ person ever. Oh my God, why can’t I stop talking?”

“Eddie.” The way you say his name is like a song he could replay forever. “I’d really like to get coffee with you. I just need to see if someone can watch Grandma…maybe Jess,” you surmise, biting back the fact that you’ll have to withhold your date’s name, lest she subject you to a lecture about sleeping with the enemy.

Eddie nods, swiping the tip of his tongue over his lower lip and smiling. “I can pick you up at noon? If Jess can watch Grandma, of course.”

“Noon works.” You want to kiss him right then and there; if Harris wasn’t nestled in the middle of you both, you might not hold back. “I can let you know on Wednesday when we have dinner together.”

Eddie’s not sure he can wait that long for an answer. What if you’re just buying time to get out of it? What if you’re only being nice to him because you’re afraid that he’ll get angry again and reignite the bitter feud you’d been locked in just a month ago? He swallows the insecurities, gaze flickering to your eyes.

And maybe it’s because you can sense his unease and self-doubt, or maybe it’s because you genuinely want to–Eddie doesn’t know for sure–but he feels you lace your fingers with his, resting your joined hands on his thigh. He shifts his grasp to weave them tighter together, learning back into the couch and allowing his body to relax. His shoulders let go of tension he hadn’t realized he was holding on to, and a contented sigh slips from his lips.

It’s you, him, and Harris. Sitting on the sofa and watching a holiday movie. An unconventional little family, but a family all the same. Eddie swears that he could stay like this forever, a thought that almost has him bursting out in laughter. The same man who had concocted an elaborate method to keep women around without actually committing to them was now reveling in domestic bliss.

When the movie ends and Harris begins to rouse, Eddie begrudgingly stands with an exaggerated groan. “These old bones, y’know,” he laments with a mischievous click of his tongue. “Everything starts fallin’ apart when you turn thirty.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, lifting Harris onto his hip and rubbing his back to help him fall back to sleep. “I know.” He grabs his keys from the shelf near the door as you walk them out. And before he can wimp out, he leans in and presses his lips to your forehead in a gentle kiss, stubble scratching against your skin. His hands are trembling when he pulls away.

“You’re the best,” he repeats the same statement he’d made on parent-teacher conference night. It’s even more true now than it was then. “We’ll see you on Wednesday for pizza?” And an answer, hopefully a ‘yes.’ “Wednesday,” you echo, still processing the fact that, for the second time today, Eddie Munson’s lips have been on you.

@kelsiegrin @lma1986 @munsonology @stuckontheceiling @avobabe87 @eddapwinchester @peachysink @browneyes8288 @jeremyspoke-inclasstoday

@breezybeesposts @wednesdaymunson @feltonswifesworld87 @take-everything-you-can @bebe07011 @81rain @dylanmunson @oscarisaacwhore @eddiesguitarskills @everheart12 @etherealglimmer @hollster88 @wh0re4life @siriuslysmoking

@bibieddiesgf @winchester-angel @starlitlakes @avalon-wolf @hazydespair @josephquinncore @daydreaminglisa @sidthedollface2 @eddiebaemunson @mandyjo8719 @daydreaming-mood @aol19 @corkadymu @starcourtnights

@rockstarmunsons @metalhead-succubus @boinkybarness @oohworldofpisces @costellation-hunter @toobsessedsstuff @meadow20 @theweasleyskettle @lost-in-the-stars03 @elizabethmidnight2017 @aysheashea

@chamomileh0ney @dream-a-little-nightmare @emma77645 @kurdtbean @sheneedsrocknroll92 @tlclick73 @lolly-in-a-strange-land @dylanmunson @bakugouswh0r3

@strangerthingsstories5255 @adaydreamaway08 @itsalltaken @harmfulb1tch @mimischaos @averagemisfit03 @steddiegarbage @vigilanteshit @ellendemeyer152 @sierrahhh @hiscrimsonangel @mrsjellymunson @idkatee

@quentinswife @eddiesguitarskills @momowhoo @jasminelafleur @mmunson86 @mcueveryday

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

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historicity-was-already-taken · 3 months

Text

What I'm actually furious about, isn't just the anti-Semitism I've dealt with here.

What I'm furious at is the Israeli government and military. I am furious that they have the nerve to perpetrate war crimes while appropriating the memory of the 6 million. It makes me sick. It feels me with rage. It fills me with feelings of betrayal (those are complex and require deconstruction, discussed briefly below). How dare they massacre children, civilians, and fucking hospital patients; and how dare they do so while using the 6 million as a rhetorical shield?

The edgelord who left me a snide remark comparing the situation in Gaza to the Warsaw Ghetto wasn't the first person to make that comparison to me. It was actually the Palestinian woman who translated two major sources from Hebrew into English for me.

She was translating a biography of Tossia Altman when her three nephews and sister-in-law were murdered during the IDF action in Gaza. I asked her if she wanted to stop working on the project (with no impact on her fee for the project, of course; that's where about $4000 of the money y'all helped me raise went, fyi). The brand of Zionism practiced by Tossia and her comrades is very very different from the version embodied in Netanyahu, and it was those schools of Zionism which mostly died in the Holocaust (I said), but I would completely understand if the material was too triggering for her.

She said "I’m not sure about this triggering me, I think holocaust survivors and Gazans are on the same boat to tell you the truth. It could be an opportunity for me to actually fathom the full picture, in a way." And I haven't stopped thinking about it since.

I'm not going to post the rest of our conversation here, for what I hope are obvious reasons. And for concerned parties, this woman has been living away from Gaza for a very long time.

But this is why I'm so angry and emotional.

And I'm over here having these, frankly, very painful, personal feelings (if my posts over the last 4 months haven't made it clear, I spent my teen years in an extremely manipulative right wing Israel "education" program, and was raised surrounded by first and secondhand Holocaust trauma which inevitably impacted how my elders educated me about The Conflict none of which I was fully able to deconstruct until I became a Holocaust Historian in grad school). Especially with my knowledge of how SHITTILY Holocaust survivors were treated when they got to Palestine in the mid-1940s; of how fucking disgracefully Yad Vashem treated Rachel Auerbach and Yitzhak Zuckerman. Of the way the Jewish fighters actually died in the Warsaw Ghetto Uprising. I became a Holocaust historian because I am the great/granddaughter of survivors and I do this work because it's a fucking calling, not something that brings me joy. And the goddamn Israeli government, the government of a nation which likes to say it exists for all Jews (when it barely even represents the Jews who live there but that's a different conversation); the way that government manipulates and misuses that history to excuse their actions in Gaza make me fucking sick. And, as demonstrated by some of you actual fucking pieces of shit, puts Diasporic Jews in danger. (side thought: Does Netanyahu WANT to put Diasporic Jews in danger?? He knows how this fucking shit works, and I wouldn't be surprised if he WANTED Jews to feel deeply unsafe and respond to that by fleeing to Israel).

And WHILE I'm experiencing all of this and trying to keep it all together while writing the what may be the most important thing I've ever written in my career, you fucking [word I don't use out loud or in writing] come in here and to throw your anti-Semitic bullshit at me when I ask you to please not spew it at me via my (year old) fucking Holocaust Remembrance Day posts, and when I ask you to be fucking mindful of it in your political speech.

So let me make it fucking clear, as far as I am concerned there are 4 separate conversations at play rn.

1) October 7 was horrific, genocidal, and traumatizing for Jews on a global basis.

2) Israel is committing heinous war crimes in Gaza right now which, if its own military's statements are anything to go by, are actively genocidal.

3) You shouldn’t harass random Jewish people because you’re disgusted with Israeli governmental and military decisions and actions.

4) The Israeli government’s appropriation of Holocaust memory within its larger state building project doesn’t give you [collective: non-Jews] the right to abuse Jews for discussing and generally having feelings about the Holocaust.

And FRANKLY I think all those conversations are accurate and valid. I also don't think I'm obligated to tear my heart open give you all my intimate feelings because a bunch of pieces of shit on this site can't grasp points 3 and 4.

So fuck that right wing program I belonged to as a teen, fuck you fucking left wing anti-Semites who can's grasp that you're touting the ideologies of people who would have wanted you dead, and fuck the Israeli government for committing war crimes. fuck them for their ongoing abuse of palestinian civil and human rights, and fuck them for invoking the memory of the 6million while doing it.

I've fucking had it with that fucking State, I've had it with you goddamn Jew-haters, and I've had it with the Jewish ppl who might want to destroy my career upon seeing this post.

I am mad as HELL.

I'm not even saying my mental health break is over. I've just had a moment of clarity, my period is over, and I'm pissed as hell. i'm tired of policing myself to make the gentiles who hate me comfortable; and I'm tired of policing myself to make my coreligionists who'd destroy me for having these thoughts comfortable. and there are 122,000 if you, so i don't care if you're so fucking fragile that this post makes you hit the unfollow button.

tl;dr:

youtube

#historians are impacted by their work #shocker

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wordstome · 5 months

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i’m here to encourage you to please elaborate on singledad!könig

also, do any of their kids have any scuffles with each other? how do the parents and children deal with it?

This ask was sent 10 minutes after the dream daddy post went up. Anon, I adore you.

I was going to put single dad König in this same post, but then it started to go on and on, and I want to take my time with the second half of your ask as well, so all my König thoughts will go in a separate post. Thank you for enabling me :3

(also this is the post I lost 3 paragraphs worth of writing on. It was literally all of Price and Ghost's sections, so forgive me if they're not up to par).

Price: With three kids, there are bound to be spats. Brianna taking something of Alice's without asking, Clara ruining one of the older girls' possessions, etc. etc. People see Price with all girls and remark how peaceful his house must be, but Price (and anybody who has a sister) knows that is NOT true. The Price home is chaos interrupted by periods of peace. Luckily, their dad is a literal military captain, so he's able to whip them into shape. All manner of crying, yelling, and shrieking can be silenced with one singular "GIRLS!" from the man himself. Then after that comes the soothing and the stern talking-tos.

Ghost: I think Simon was great with kids pre-Roba, he had Tommy and then his nephew Joseph. But post-Roba and his work in the special forces, he's much more rough around the edges. Like I said in the main post, Caden is a pretty quiet kid, so I can't see him starting or getting into any trouble. But he is still a 10 year old, so I can see him throwing a fit when he's frustrated or uncomfortable. If this happens in public, Simon will pull him aside and talk to him quite sternly, especially if Caden is making a ruckus as an emotional outlet. In private, he gives Caden space to let it all out, and then talks to him afterwards. However, if Caden can articulate what's upsetting him, he's very gentle and understanding. One way or another, I can see Simon getting help with his PTSD, so he uses a lot of techniques that his therapist taught him with Caden.

Soap: I imagine Elodie as about 6-7 years older than Thomas, who is a literal baby, so I can't see that they get into any fights. Mostly Elodie getting cranky about Thomas getting all the attention, at which point Johnny has to reassure his daughter and give her some love as well. When they're older, Elodie is a classic older sister who fucks with her little brother. She's never truly malicious, but there are definitely times when Johnny's standing in front of them sighing and pinching his nose because Elodie's played a nasty prank on her brother. Johnny's a very picks-his-misbehaving-kid-up-like-a-doll-and-gives-them-a-noogie kind of parent. He's never raised his voice at his kids, but instead has an "if what I think is happening is happening, it better not be" tone that instantly strikes fear into his kids' hearts. I can hear it in my head. I know you guys can hear it in your head too. 'Nuff said.

Gaz: It's hard to say what it's like when Kyle's kids fight: I can see Violet being the sort of girl who is quite close with her younger brother, so I can't really imagine a lot of scenarios in which they would fight. But Elliott is a younger brother and Violet is a growing teenage girl, so there have probably been a few times when Violet got mad at Elliott and screamed at him or said something that she regretted. Kyle and Emily will both scold the kids when they step out of line, and they both do their part when it comes to discipline. Kyle in particular is a very "I'm not mad at you, I'm just disappointed" sort of parent. He expects a lot of Violet, but sometimes that pressure can get to her.

König: This man is overwhelmingly soft for his daughter. The calmest, most gentle giant. I think out of all the dads he's most susceptible to spoiling her, which obviously could become a problem. He's incredibly lucky though, because Ava is an angel. She is spoiled, being an only child on her daddy's colonel salary, but she gives more "kind rich girl" vibes than "inconsiderate little brat". I'm going to elaborate more on this in the upcoming König post, but he's got this deep sadness to him because he lost his wife. Ava is a pretty perceptive child, so she doesn't act out unless she's having a really hard time, in which case König is nothing but soothing and reassuring.

Horangi: If Ryujin (Hong-jin's daughter) has beef with you, he's kicking your ass right alongside her. When she was young, she was fully capable of both starting and finishing fights, and Hong-jin was an incorrigible enabler who was more likely to double over laughing than scold his daughter. Her mother usually had to be the disciplinarian. Hong-jin and Ryujin have a complicated relationship, but in adulthood, they're pretty even keel, and have grown even closer since the death of Ryujin's mom.

Keegan: Jason and Cecelia have been through a lot together, so they don't really fight. When they do though, it's nasty, and Keegan serves as more of a go-between than a disciplinarian role. Both of them will seek advice from him, but he understands that they know each other better than he does. Not for lack of trying, of course, but it's inevitable with older adoptions. His role comes from having more life experience, and he's got a kind of impenetrable chill that makes everybody a lot calmer.

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cleolinda · 4 months

Text

I am so fucking pissed. We’re hearing forecasts that we might get FIVE FUCKING INCHES OF SNOW overnight from Monday to Tuesday. In ALABAMA, where we have no snow removal equipment. Like I think we got one bag of sand for the whole town. No snow tires, I don’t even know what those are. This isn’t cute “Haha it’s just barely below freezing! Snowball fight!!!” snow. This is 14° Fuck (-11° Come the Fuck On) snow. FIVE INCHES? We get flurries and the city descends into madness.

What if we lose POWER. Everything runs off USB cord stuck in the outlet charging nowadays. This is why everyone used to run out and buy Milk Bread Batteries. Listen. I have this memory of the power going out during this wild snowstorm when I was a kid--I want to say it was Winter Storm '93. Ask anyone who lived in Alabama at the time. Like we had Desert Storm '92 the military operation one year and Winter Storm '93 the next. It was that serious in our minds, and I'm not sure you can blame us:

The storm dumped several inches of snow each hour on Birmingham, which ended up with officially 13 inches of snow.

Due to the high winds some parts of Birmingham reported drifts 5 to 6 feet deep. One state trooper reported that the roads were in the worst shape he had ever seen. "People can't tell what's road and what's not."

Low temperatures during the storm were in the 5-to-10 degree range on that Sunday.

IN A TOWN WHERE WE DON'T KNOW WHAT A SNOW PLOW IS. I think we had one for the entire county. Like I'm only kind of joking here.

And our power went out.

The snow was so heavy that it pulled down power lines either by its own weight, or by the tree branches its weight broke off. Meanwhile, the power at my house already went off every time a squirrel sneezed. I don't how many days this lasted; it was probably like, 2-3 days, but in my head, I was 14 years old boxed up with my family with no heat and it lasted two weeks. Maybe three years. The four of us slept in sleeping bags layered with quilts, huddled on the floor around a wood burning fire. (In the haunted house, no less.) The carpet was really nice, at least. We had a--do people still call them boomboxes? A big portable cassette player--battery-powered--with AM/FM radio. We listened to whatever TV shows were broadcast from the ABC station at night. We did have hot water; I took a lot of hot baths. We cooked food over the outdoor grill (which we moved to the comfortably large area under the deck, to hold off the falling snow), sometimes using aluminum foil as a kind of thin impromptu frying pan, and kept perishables like milk and meat in a cooler. Oh, did we have a bag of ice for the cooler? No, we used snow. God knows there was enough of it. Of course, I'm sure the refrigerator was perfectly serviceable even without power, because it was TEN DEGREES FUCK ALL.

I remember going outside a good bit and playing, as much as a teenager plays, in the snow with my seven-year-old sister. I remember that all the neighborhood kids got big rubber trashcan lids and used them as toboggans, going up to the top of the hill on our street and pretty successfully sledding down. Maybe it was "lmao snowball fight!!" snow when I was 14. I'm 45 now, and the cold makes me hurt. It makes me hurt all over. Maybe Winter Storm '24 will be a fun core memory for my nephew. I am pissed. And also charging all my electronics.

(ETA: It’s ‘24 now, isn’t it. My brain hasn’t clicked the date over yet. What is time.)

#me for some reason #long post

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dellalyra · 6 months

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what kind of man do you envision akio growing up into? i feel like he would definitely be confident and sure of himself (i mean he’s been raised by two people that are incredibly self-assured) and maybe even a little bit cocky. but i think he would also be such a lover and be that person that makes everyone feel warm inside when they’re in their presence

UGH YES

Akio as a baby/toddler is just the purest soul - so full of love and joy, it’s all he’s ever known to surround him. He’s a chirpy, excitable little puppy. Child Akio - starts to discover the thrill of mischief inherited from his dad, and begins to discover his innate status as a Jujutsu Prodigy. Teenage Akio - is just teenage Satoru. A bit cocky (rightfully), extroverted, fun-loving and boisterous - around this age is also when he begins to inherit his parents protective nature - it really sets in the first time his sister Mirai accompanied him on a mission, seeing a curse come toward the 13 year old, 16 year old Akio went feral. Nobody - and he means NOBODY - touches Mirai. (She could have handled the curse with her pinky, but he’s grown up with his big brother role model being Megumi ‘With This Treasure I Summon’ Fushiguro). He can be a little aggressive at times, but not as tempestuous as Mirai who got her Mama’s temper. Akio soon discovers how much he loves kids too, when he’s in his late teens and he gets a nephew thanks to Megumi and Yuuji.

Akio has all the presence of his parents - the ability to command the attention of a room and simultaneously warm it with his ball of energy soul. Akio of course, grows up to be incredibly confident not just in his talents, but also in his looks. His dad’s white hair, but longer and reaching to under his shoulders, Gojo-blue eyes and his Mama’s facial features and 6ft4? The perfect combination of them both, often stopped by agents looking for models. He’s also a genius at weaselling himself out of trouble, being able to charm his way out of any icky situation with ease.

His heart is his crowning glory, however. This young man - he loves wholly, and completely. He’s devoted in his entirety to his family, and his friends and he would burn the world for them. Need picking up at 4am? Call Akio. Heartbroken? Call Akio. Bored? Call Akio. His kindness has gotten him in trouble on occasion, with Mirai suddenly being woken up at 5am by her brother - poking her in the shoulder and plopping a box on her lap.

“Yo - look. I need help until Mama wakes up.” He whispers (he thinks he whispers).

“The fuck - my guy, it’s 5am.” Mirai responds.

“Look in the box ‘Rai!” He points, smiling brightly.

She does.

She finds 6 kittens.

“They’re only a few weeks old - they have worms, we need to get them fed and treated.” Mirai responds, her inherited technique from her mother providing all the information about the kittens she needs.

Akio has clicked on his phone and ordered next day delivery for pretty much everything a kitten could want.

“Where’d you find 6 kittens?” Mirai sleepily asks, quickly checking over the babies and pressing kisses to their heads.

“Mama said she was in the mood for doriyaki last night so I warped to the store to get her some as a surprise for the morning but I found these guys.”

Overall, a cheeky menace to society who is the world’s bigger lover.

#jjk #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #family formations extras #dad!gojo

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mimiii-3 · 11 months

Note

Hi! How's it going?

Could I request Leona, Trey, Jack and Kalim reacting to their kid (around 6 year old) little brother (with Cheka for Leona) asking fem!reader if he can marry her or saying that they want to marry her?

Hi anon! Sure thing

Twst boys react to their little brothers snitching on them

Note/warning: female reader, funny, fluff

Extra note: the dialogue is the twst boy talking to his brother

. . .

Leona

Cheka: (y/n)! Uncle Leona says he wants to marry you!

• attempts to play it off like he doesn’t care

• he actually really cares

• he was telling his brother about his plans to marry you when Cheka overheard him

• Leona is fast but Cheka is faster

• prays that you don’t believe his nephew

• you laugh off Cheka’s comment and ruffle his hair, thinking it was a joke

• Leona let’s out a breath he was holding and drags Cheka away by his ear

“If you keep quiet about this, I’ll let you be the ring bearer. So that means not a peep about this to the future Mrs. Got it?”

Trey

Trey’s little brother: Trey wants to know your ring size so he can buy you an engagement ring.

• gets really red in the face and pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose

• prepares for your relentless teasing

• stands stiffly while you poke his reddened cheeks

• after your teasing dies down, Trey takes your hand in his

• he kisses your ring finger and looks up at you with a soft look in his eyes

• you can’t help but shift under his gaze, realizing that his feelings are genuine

• the tender moment is interrupted by the gagging noises his little brother is making

“Oh please, all I did was kiss her hand. What do you mean that’s still too much?!”

Jack

Jack’s little brother: Jack thinks you’d look really pretty in a wedding dress.

• stands there with a blank look on his face

• great - his worst nightmare has come true

• where has the power dynamic between him and his brother gone?

• nervously waits for your response

• nearly cries from relief when you bashfully play with your fingers and peek up at him through your lashes

• his tail starts to violently wag at your silent approval

• knows that his brother will never let this down

“I wish you hadn’t told her like that but I guess it worked out. Fine…you were right.”

Kalim

Kalim’s little brother: Hey (y/n)! I just wanted to let you know that my brother wants to marry you. He’s got the ring and everything.

• he lets out a nervous chuckle and scratches the back of his head

• sure, he wanted to ask you but he had some concerns

• is secretly worried that you might not want the same thing as him

• waits for your response with bated breath

• you suddenly leap forward to hug him and happily kiss his cheek over and over

• he swings you around and breathes a sigh of relief

• walks back to the dorm holding your hand

• he nudges his brother as a thank you while you ramble to Jamil about all your plans for the wedding

“That went even better than expected! As a thank you for telling her, why don’t you be my best man?”

#twisted wonderland #headcanon #twst headcanons #fanfic #fanfiction #leona kingscholar #trey clover #twst jack #twst leona #twst trey #jack howl #twst kalim #kalim al asim

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rose-tea-and-strawberries · 1 year

Note

Hey, I sent in this ask and Tumblr ate it, so here it is:

You know how Yuu getting turned into a child because of a potion accident or a spell mishap is a pretty popular trend in twst headcanons and imagines. I'm thinking about the same scenario with Yuu while she's on her shift in the club. It either happened because of one of Von Drake's inventions accidentally zapping Yuu or someone was messing with Fairy Godmother's wand again.

I mean the chaos and panic that would ensue in the club when Yuu gets hit by a spell gone wrong, and she straight up disintegrates except for her clothes. Everyone's like "OH NO, WE KILLED OUR KID!" And Donald's reaction is like this. But then the clothes start shuffling, and they all find a cute baby Yuu.

If you thought they clubgoers were bad before when it came to competing for the custody over Yuu, it's worse now. Hell, even Mickey is twitching to grab his sorcerer hat and keyblade. Any disney character who's a parent are fighting over on who gets to hold Yuu next. Pepa Madrigal is summoning a biblical storm outside because Triton was taking too long holding Yuu, and it's supposed to be her turn. The parent characters all miss holding a baby.

"Your five minutes are up! Let me hold her!"

The couples are all high on baby fever when they get to hold Yuu. I can see Ariel really missing when Melody was a baby and turning to Eric to say that they should have another kid.

The villains to Yuu: Come to the dark side we have cookies.

I can see just cuddling with the Winnie-the-Pooh characters since they're technically anthropomorphic stuffed animals and soft enough to sleep on.

Even characters who I don't see as parent types take to Yuu so well. Gaston finally gets a turn, and he gets quiet. For the next five minutes, his hubris goes away, and he's so gentle with Yuu. Belle and Adam are in awe because that's what got him to shut up? I mean they get it. Yuu is adorable but still.

Lol. I think went too far with this ask.

"Oh no, we killed our kid!" *Side eyes the villains* it's not like any of you have ever attempted child murder before

That Donald link is everything and it is now canon that that is exactly his reaction when Yuu, his nephews and Max are in danger (I've never watched Ducktales so I don't know if there are any other kids Donald hangs out with)

I absolutely love de-aging fics. It's been one of my favourite tropes in practically every fandom I've been in. I actually did have this one story line I was brainstorming in my head during this very long car ride where some magic caused Yuu, Ace, Deuce, Leona, Azul and Epel to de-age to around 6-7-8 and the NRC students had to deal with that (it kind of played along the lines how the day before the magic accident Yuu said that if she met the NRC gang when she was younger, her younger self definitely would've wanted to be friends with them - there was even this scene where smol Yuu 'meets' baby octopus Azul and he gets all teary-eyed that this pretty 'stranger' thinks that he's nice - and there was another one with little Yuu and cub Leona where they take a nap together) but I digress.

So I'm not going to go for baby since there's not much a baby can do so I'm going to say she's reverted back to a 5/6 year old.

Lilo, Alice and Wendy insist that she spends most of her time with them. They see Yuu as a big sister and now that she's younger, they are much more protective of her. Christopher Robin is included in that group not because he's part of the Yuu Protection Squad but because he's close friends with Alice and Wendy so he's dragged along for the ride. Lilo doesn't want Yuu to hang around with the villains or the NRC boys - she's made badness charts of both Yuu and the villains to show her friend how dangerous they are. Lilo and Yuu definitely get Horace to play Elvis songs because Elvis is amazing.

It doesn't matter how old Yuu is, if she sees our favourite tubby little cubby all stuffed with fluff she is hugging that silly old bear for as long as she can (lucky, lucky her). The tv show called 'My Friends Tigger and Pooh' and one special episode of 'Doc McStuffins' show that the Hundred Acre Woods gang love hanging around children even if they aren't Christopher Robin - let's just hope, Tigger doesn't get too boisterous with his bouncing. Speaking of which, Roo is very happy to have another kid to hang out with (he excitedly asks his mother if they can bring Lumpy with them the next day) and Kanga finds herself doting on Yuu even more with the other animal mothers (etc: Perdita, Mrs Jumbo, Bambi's mother, Duchess etc)

Since Simba (canonically in the first movie) and Ariel (in the non-canon sequel) are the only prince and princess to have children, I think that they would argue that they are the best suited to looking after Yuu - only for Baloo to pipe in that he and Bagheera have plenty of experience in caring for mancubs (the fact that Mowgli was raised by wolves who are still very much alive seems to be completely forgotten by the bear)

Tiana has to literally restrain Naveen and Charlotte from either kidnapping Yuu on the spot to go gallivanting to every toy and dress shop they know or just going to said shops anyway and buying everything they see.

Aladdin and Robin Hood are really good with kids in their movie (and Aladdin's TV series) so they would be having a blast regaling Yuu with tales of their adventures.

Wait, wait Jack Skellington and Sally canonically have kids in the epilogue of their movie so they would have some experience to boast about (in the movie's soudtrack with Sir Patrick Stewart at least)

Unfortunately, none of the heroes trust the villains to go within five feet of child!Yuu for completely logical and justifiable reasons so Yuu the villainous sidekicks usually end up sneaking around nearby

(At some point, Yuu ends up giving Ed the hyena a hug, headpats and a forehead kiss and he never lets anyone forget that)

All the Disney parents are living their best life with Yuu around. I think King Stefan and Queen Leah are especially happy because they never got to see their daughter, Aurora, at that age and they kind of feel like they get a chance at seeing what could have been.

Someone should also probably keep an eye on Fauna incase she pulls a Lilia and straight up kidnaps Yuu

#house of mouse au #twst #twst yuu #fem yuu #twisted wonderland #asks

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a-dumb-sarcastic-bisexual · 2 years

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Even more ROTTMNT headcanons

When Mikey was 5 years old he got super hyper-fixated on roller coasters

Splinter found a book about roller coasters and brought it home for Donnie

He finished the book in a day and gave it to his brothers because he wasn’t that interested

Mikey read the whole book and fell in love with roller coasters

He constantly asked Splinter to take them to an amusement park so they could ride one

And once he found out that he couldn't ride one and Donnie couldn’t make one (give the kid a break he’s 6) he broke down

So the boys came up with an idea

Mikey would go into his shell and the boys would toss him around

Obviously, this wasn’t safe and it sounds a lot funnier than it actually was

But those were some of Mikey’s favorite memories because his brothers taught him how to make the best out of a shit situation

Donnie used to be the biggest crybaby when he was younger

He could be happy, sad, or hurt and the tears would follow

But his brothers never made fun of him (most of the time)

If anything they encouraged him to cry

Leo used to say “crying is like coughing. You cough to get all the bad stuff out. And you cry for the same reason” (this is something my nephew told me and I thought it was the cutest thing)

Donnie called him stupid after he said that but crying didn’t feel bad after that

But as he got older the tears became less frequent

The only time when he cries now is when he gets frustrated, angry, or sad

Leo got the nickname butterfly chaser when he was younger

It wasn’t uncommon for his head to be in the clouds

And it was tough to tell if he was actually listening to you or not because he always has a spacy look on his face

The only time he was truly focused is when he was doing something physical ie sports or training

His intensity used to scare his brothers

Which is why he stopped training after a while

He hated how focused his brain was

And he hated how his brain would pick apart his brothers and show him their weaknesses

He didn’t like that he was progressing faster than his siblings

It didn’t matter that he was the one moving ahead because he felt left behind

So he stopped training and put all his focus on comic books instead

Because he can’t hurt his siblings with comic books and movies

When Leo gets embarrassed he will hold onto his siblings

He’ll grab their hands or their arms and tell them to “shut up and go away” while laughing his ass off

Raph thinks it absolutely adorable because it reminds him of when Leo was little

Raph used to carry the boys around everywhere

They would be sitting and relaxing and Raph would pick them up and walk around

They were like sentient little teddy bears

Leo had a nasty habit of biting his brother when he was younger

And it isn’t even because red-eared sliders are cannibals he just liked to bite things

And after his brothers bitched to their dad about Leo biting them Splinter “bought” him teething toys

The boys didn’t make fun of him because if they did he would just bite them again

Donnie hates stickers

Absolutely despises them

He hates the feeling of the sticky side and the nonsticky side

He hates the marks that they leave behind

Anytime a part of a sticker touches him he loses his shit

And Mikey loves stickers

And when he’s pissed off at Donnie he’ll leave stickers on his tools

So Donnie has to do his least favorite things 1. Apologize and 2. Ask for help

Leo Donnie and April are the biggest shit talkers in the group

They have a group chat dedicated to talking trash

They taught April Japanese so they could talk shit in public

And there are times when they don’t even have to say anything they can just look at each other and lose their shit

And Raph hates talking shit

Any time he complains about someone he feels guilty immediately and apologized afterward

Doctor Delicate touch will occasionally show up in their group chat to join the shit-talking sesh (no one knows how he does it and they’re too afraid to ask)

#rottmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #save rottmnt #rottmnt headcanons #rottmnt leo #rottmnt donnie #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt raph #rottmnt april #rottmnt splinter #the disaster twins are mean little shits #and I love them with my whole heart

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atalante241 · 2 months

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Welcome to my merged tmnt AU that’s very weird and doesn’t make sense

So, the premise is that somehow the 2k3, 2k12 and rottmnt universes are merged together.

The three Hamato Yoshi’s are related to each other. How? You may ask. I don’t know but I do know that they’re brothers with an age gap I don’t know the length of and that 03 Yoshi got separated at one point and ended up on the streets and taken in by the Ancient One and the story goes as usual.

So, I basically remember nothing about the clan situation with 12 Yoshi. Only that Saki rebuilt the Foot Clan after incel angsting or something. But maybe the Hamato clan had some mystic branch or whatever and Lou got to know about the Demon Shredder (separate dude from Tengu Shredder (also just now realized that this would mean that somebody decided to name Saki after the dude that got possessed (also a complete separate dude from the dude possessed by the Tengu Shredder))) if that’s how he knew about that I do not remember.

But basically everything goes as usually, but only with 12 Yoshi and Lou awkwardly sometimes going “hey bro” because they’re very distant (don’t even know each others fav colors)

Then the reasons for going to New York happen. But when 12 Splinter mutates, the man of course spends some time on the streets, and during that time he tries to get in contact with Lou but it doesn’t rly work bc he doesn’t have his actual number and Lou’s agent or whatever shoots him off. So some time goes by, eventually a bit over 7 (the 12 turtles are 8) years. And one day while scavenging 12 Splinter comes across semi-newly mutated Lou and the 4 baby turtles, there some pointing and confusion (and panic) but they calm down. 12 shows Lou to his place where the 4 8yr olds spend their time immersed in studying the babies or whatevs. During that time 12 & Lou talk and somehow realize who both of them are.

As for the 03 side. Oh boy are you in for a treat. Bc— hold on I have to re-do math bc the rise turtles have actual ages.

Oh boy are you in for a treat, bc when 12 turns 9, the 2003 show starts off. And by that I mean everything. The alien invasion, mutant outbreak (Donnie possibly getting blasted on every TV in the world (maybe it was just the UN, who knows)), the turtles getting blamed for kidnapping the president. The literal apocalypse in s5.

Imagine being 12 Splinter and Lou during that time, lol. Trying to huddle with the kids by the TV watching 5 dragons have a battle over the city. By the end of the 03 series I’d like to think 5 years have gone by, that’s includes the FF time skip. So the 12 turtles would be 14yrs old.

The 12 series would start off when they’re 15, 03 21yrs and rise being 10, 9 & 8

After this I have no idea. But all the turtles would meet at some point. No idea how or when but at some point. I can’t get the idea of how 03 Splinter is technically 12 and Lou’s nephew and the turtle their grand-nephews out of my head.

Here’s a graph that doesn’t have 0 as a time indicator bc fuck that.

Also this whole thing was born from me loving the idea of 03 Splinter being 12 and Lou’s nephew and the turtles their grand-nephews

Also I have no clue abt the whole Oroku Saki situation— wait no. I do. 03 is using the fake name bc of the (tengu) story/rumor. 12 is just named that and I surprised by the famous business man 03 Oroku Saki having the same name as him. And rise is dead.

Also it’s now 6 am and I have not slept, curse you great tmnt crossover fanfiction!

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darlinboypresley · 2 years

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baby fever

Elvis!Austin x reader;

Summary: you and Elvis have been married

For about 3 years now and he thinks its time for a baby

Tw/mentions: baby fever pregnancy uh ye that’s about it

Elvis just got off of tour. And it honestly felt like he never left you. Of course at times it felt lonely in Graceland alone in such a big house but you. Always made sure to invite your friends and family over. Knowing your husband wouldn’t have wanted you to be lonesome.

But it still felt better to have him home. Where he was close to you, it was a Sunday afternoon and your brother had just dropped his kids of at your house. Since It was date night for him and his mrs he had 3 kids a little girl named Lilly she was 6 years of age and then he had a 4 year old son named Billy and a 2 month old names James. You loved having your little cousins over and Elvis in full honesty didn’t mind either.

Elvis and Billy were playing catch in the yard while you and Lilly were painting each others nails as you heard a cry coming from the living room. You smiled softly at Lilly and told her you’d be right back you. You made your way into the living room and the crying stopped immediately you softly smiled. As you picked up the sniffling baby up. And rocked him softly in your arms not noticing your husband leaning against the door watching you closely. Elvis smiled seeing you with kids warmed his heart and it just made him love you so much more he carefully made his way towards you and wrapped his arms around you “hi there mama’s” he whispered against your head and kissed it softly as he watched your nephew fall asleep in your arms again.

You smiled and looked at your husband “hey there mr Presley…want to hold the baby” you whispered and your husband looked at you dumbstruck “a-are you sure darlin’ I m-mean he’s very tiny and i-“ you’re husband stammered. You chuckled and nodded your head “ye’ just ya know support his head” you said as you carefully handed him the baby. you and Elvis never really thought about having kids or even talked about it before. But in that moment he was so sure you could have a family and have your own babies running around.

It was 10 o’clock when you’re brother picked his kids up. You were currently in the kitchen cleaning as you felt two strong arms wrap around you as Elvis rested has hands on your stomach and whispered in your ear “so I was thinkin’ what if we start our own family have our own litter running around huh how does that sound mama?” he asked purring into your ear you looked stunned and turned around to face your husband “r-really?” you stuttered and Elvis looked at you nodding his head “if you want to have my babies of course” he said with sincere In his eyes you nodded your head enthusiastically and kissed your husband “then what are you waiting for mr Presley” you smiled and Elvis picked you up taking you to your shared bedroom

Hi creator here this is my first Elvis/Austin fic! I hope you guys like it feedback is always welcome requests are open and pls let me know if I missed triggers or grammar mistakes

#elvis movie #austin butler x reader #austin butler #elvis film #elvis presley #x reader #austin butler imagine

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thinlinez · 10 months

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MID YEAR FIC REC

Disclaimer: Since it is Pride Month, the 28th and also the middle of 2023, I would love to share some fics with everyone! I am not organized at all and I don't rec on the regular, but I hope that these fics will give you a great time reading them! I have followed each rec with my own feedback so feel free to read!

On such breathless nights as these by Marchessa @marchessa

As a newly presented omega, Harry has a hard time adjusting to his new life. Luckily he has the best alpha anyone could ask for on his side. The Moon had guided him to the most perfect mate in the world, and soon they will bond in the pale moonlight. He just has to survive the long road leading to the mating ritual.

Humans turned into wolves (ABO) is something that is quite rare in this fandom and I think T captured it greatly! Soft Alpha Lou in this one has my heart and I'm glad they got their happy ending compared to the angsty first installment!

2. Sweetest Devotion by brightgolden @brightgolden

After his divorce, all Harry wants in life is to provide a stable, loving environment for his three-year-old daughter, Evie.

Never in his wildest dreams has he ever considered that life might come with the presence of his teenage crush — Gemma’s friend from secondary school, Louis Tomlinson.

Luckily, Harry isn’t still pining over him.

Or so he thought.

Evie and her sippy cup plus Lou being so attentive (although he was a bit hot and cold during the process) was so fun and fluffy to read! Can't wait for more baby fever ;) from Mia!

3. Somebody's Got Your Trainers On (It's You) by bluegreenish @greenblueish

or, the one where, after two years, paediatrician Harry returns to Silver Street Hospital and with it to paediatric nurse Louis' life.

I'm always getting educated by Jill's fics and this one really showed how much research she must have put inside. I like the dialogue and am glad they finally talked it out in the end! Bit of angst but not too much, such a great balance!

4. READ LIKE A HEADLINE by The_Halcyonic_Lachesist @chai-hat-tea

Louis Tomlinson, a singer-turned-actor is the source of tabloid gossip and his latest project is jeopardised when the media interferes again. Tired of life handing him the short end of the stick at every turn, he finds himself at a bar drowning in his sorrows. A kind stranger tries to cheer him up, but Louis soon realises that the stranger does so much more than that.

Inspired by 'Headlines' from the album 'Faith in the Future' by 'Louis Tomlinson'.

When I was reading this, I felt kind of upset since it really reflects the boys' lives in reality. How everything is twisted by the media and they can't show their true selves. I love how H and Lou interacted and built some trust between them!

5. Bitter Ends Turn Sweet by allwaswell16 @allwaswell16

It had been four years since Harry first heard the song his ex wrote about him and far longer since they broke up. He forgave Louis long ago, and now his life was focused on his career, his family, and especially his son, Max. But Louis was back in Chicago, after all this time, and he’s not an easy man to ignore.

Or a songfic inspired by the song Chicago

I have waited so long for a new fic from Anitra and I think this one also ended up educating me about the thinkings and lives of children that are like Max. I love how sweet Lou is towards him and the scene in which Max led Lou around was so funny and fluffy! They are a match made in heaven (don't get jealous H hahaha)

6. waving to the hard times by beardyboyzx @beardyboyzx

Twenty-five years ago, a group of alpha soldiers led a revolution to dispose of the beta oppressive monarchy. Louis Tomlinson, the General’s alpha nephew, is set to follow in his footsteps and eventually lead the Country. When the arrest of a beta brings a silent resistance group to show themselves and threaten The General, Louis finds himself questioning the government's true nature and the equality of the law, in a quest that will change him for good.

SPOILER ALERT: Also one that I have been waiting for and had to take a few weeks to properly finish and DIGEST it! Lou's character change in this was so well written and of course the whole rebellion was happening right under his nose! I'm glad that he decided to open his eyes and not stick to what his uncle says... Really proud of Raf for gifting us such a wonderful and full of plot twist fic! Can't wait for the next part!

7. Puppy: There's A Long Way To Go by littleohs @littleohs

Harry has a newborn baby boy, adopts a puppy to grow up with his son, the new addition to the family, the important pediatric Louis Tomlinson making a important part of it.

When I first started Kam's fics, they always overwhelm me with their softness and tenderness and this one is no expection. I really like how it played out and of course Lou x H with pups is something I always need! (ps. I can't wait for you to finish Saet so I can rec it in my end of year rec wink wink love you)

8. Of Hangovers and Hell by unreadablehandle @unreadablehandle

Harry is not exactly a loves-social-gatherings guy. So when Niall talks him into going to a party, one during which Harry somehow ends up in a room of no other than the pretentious athlete Louis Tomlinson... shit goes down.

Shit really went down hard in this one, once you get to a twist there is another one just waiting to punch you and I think this is something that only Tess can manage! This fic definitely needs to be read if you seek twists and turns and thrills!

9. Chasing Feelings by Neondiamond @neondiamond

When homicide detective Louis Tomlinson first gets assigned to work with detective Harry Styles, the newest addition to the Doncaster police station, on the biggest case of his career, he’s less than enthused about it. There’s a serial killer on the loose, and Louis has no time to waste working with a newbie, despite how attracted his inner Alpha may be to Harry’s sweet scent. Along the way, he finds he may have been too quick to judge the Omega.

Really loved the process of it and I felt like I was reading a crime chasing thriller (which is making me have the urge to revisit Hannibal TV series) I like how Lou accepted H in the end and get their happy ending!

10. desperate, as the night moves on by callmelover @whenyoucallmelover

Or, the one where Louis visits Harry in Germany, and Harry just really wants Louis to fuck his face.

This one is such a feel-good smut fic, meaning if you read it all you get is soft happy and hot vibes and perfect for relaxation! I like how Lou always compliments H in this one! Lovely ;))

11. I love you in every kind of way by likelarry @likelarryfics

Harry leans back against Louis, holding Louis' hands that are over his waist. "I don't know, just don't feel very... feminine or pretty... or delicate."

"Darling, you don't need to fit a certain criteria to feel that way. You don't have to have shaved legs to feel feminine or be petite to feel delicate. You look beautiful right now."

Or, Harry just wants to be comfortable in his own skin.

This fic made me cry a bit since I know that it might have happened in reality (something close to it) and I love how Lou is so understanding and encouraging!

12. Briar Rose by stretchmybones @harryslonecurl

Louis is a royal who is coerced to find a mate due to his position in high society. Wanting absolutely nothing to do with high society, Louis chooses a peasant from a neighboring village.

Harry is quite far removed from high society. Has Louis gotten more than he bargained for, or will this be the connection he never knew he needed?

The FLUFF is everything and I love how they indulge each other! I think this fic made me giggle a bunch coz it's just got loads and loads of FLUFF.

13. sweaty palms and racing hearts by fearsparks @onlythebravest

(A short story of two shy, nervous and blushing boys on a date at the cinema.)

This was the first time someone gifted me a fic and I love it so much, thank you Julia, I reread it again and I feel like it deserves so much more attention since it's such a cute read! I love the nervousness in this one, reminds me of nervous dates as well!

14. make me your future history by treaclenectar @guccistrawberries

Louis and Harry agree to participate in a Valentine’s Day baking contest.

They've also got a bit of history.

Whats the worst that could happen?

Or an exes to lovers Valentine’s Day AU

This fic made me laugh so much and the dynamic in it is superb! So fresh to read and of course Tej did such a great job at it! I laughed again when just reading the tags (crack but not ass crack)

Please make sure to leave kudos and comments for these hardworking writers! Enjoy xxx

#happy pride month fic rec #middle of year fic rec #larry fic rec #fic rec

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gobbluthbutagirl · 8 months

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realizing i have a whole bunch of “hope you’re ok” type messages from the past 1.5 months….SORRY GUYS!!! literally nothing happened!!! i just decided to stop posting for a while because i had had those two posts both blow up within a week of each other which of course was an unfriendly reminder that if you go more than like 3 degrees of separation outside of your immediate circle on this website you start encountering people who are genuinely too stupid to be alive. and i went through that whole “what do i get out of posting on here? NOTHING!” conversation with myself which of course was the same conversation that infamously led me to quit my job and move out of my shithole apartment/temporarily across the country 6 months ago and obviously not posting on a website is a much easier decision to make than either of those So. and then i didn’t post on here that i was doing that because i had no idea how long it would stick and i didn’t want to have a Goodbye Forever(See You Tonight!) moment. and then a few days after deleting the app i was like wow…i have so many more hours in the day all of a sudden! so i did not come back even to say goodbye which of course made it look like i had disappeared without a trace. SAD!

anyway…i have an extremely temporary part-time “job” now helping my mom’s friend move out of her house which she has dubbed “grey gardens” for reasons i assume are self-explanatory. which is the main thing that has changed since i’ve been gone. AND she’s actually paying me more per hour than target did 😃 so Yeah. and here’s some other thoughts i’ve had in the past 1.5 months that could’ve been posts, in no particular order and as a wall of text with little to no punctuation for your inconvenience:

Search party “when you know you know you know you know” scene scene of all time Daily Dot article about tiktok about walmart customer who loudly asked where the douches were or some shit and someone commented “target customers would NEVER” literally YES they would what planet are you living on My mom asked me in the middle of hobby lobby why she’s seeing so much stuff online about folding chairs now My mom forgot who mitch mcconnell is AGAIN My brother’s friend alex sent my brother a snapchat from behind the wheel saying “fuck yeah nerve damage!!!” My brother’s manager at dunkin who they demoted him to bring over is already quitting I finally met my nephew’s father and he wore his cookout hat and an anime t-shirt to his son’s first birthday party and he was too scared to say a single word to me and later my sister said he said he wants me to bake his birthday cake and also asked if i smoke weed because i’m “so creative” and this man is almost 28 years old My dad finally got rid of the couch i had been telling him he should get rid of for 2 years because his mom was coming to visit and he didn’t want her to see it There was an arrested development reference in the barbie movie did anyone else notice. Also this was my birthday cake that i made:

and here are some hounds:

#this took waaaaay too long to type for some reason but anyway again thank you for the concern/sorry that happened

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kingdaddydaichi · 1 year

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☆ title: redefining (ch. 7) | ( ch. 6 ) ☆ ( ch. 8 )

☆ pairing: cop!daichi sawamura x single mom!reader

☆ wc: 2.2k

☆ synopsis: four years after leaving your toxic ex, you find yourself a single mom to a 10-year-old boy named musubi, who harbors a lot of misdirected anger. you hear from his fifth grade teacher, mr. suga, more often than your own mother and a resulting friendship is born. meeting suga’s best friend wages a war between your head and your heart - one that challenges everything you think you know about love and police officers. neither are to be trusted. both have left you lost and scared when you needed them the most. so, when a cop comes knocking at love’s door, just how strong is your resolve to keep your heart under lock and key?

☆ warnings/notes: nsfw. mdni. cop!daichi. single parent struggles (mention).

She once thought that love wasn’t just a game Her feelings once came from the heart

Alibis - Tracy Lawrence

Daichi, being the simple guy he is, had already decided what he wanted as you pored through the online menu. While he waited, he looked at the many pictures on your fridge.

“Is this your nephew?”

You followed his pointed finger to a smiling image of your little boy.

You shook your head, pursing your lips into a reluctant smile. “He’s my son.”

“You have a son?” he beamed, almost offended that you hadn’t told him.

You smiled at him, finding his surprised expression almost comical. It’s not that you’d been hiding it from him per se. It’s just that you’d been keeping Daichi compartmentalized. The less he knew about you, the better. But, if anything, finding out you were a single mom would keep him from getting any closer and, in fact, might even push him away. All in all, it would go a long way towards your goal of maintaining your distance from the cop. It was a win-win situation.

“Wow…you’re a milf!” He was so serious his eyebrows knitted at the last word. You could tell this was a huge revelation for him.

Not the reaction you were expecting. You genuinely laughed with a what the fuck look. “Excuse me?”

“You’re a mom I’d like to fuck,” he explicated. “Well, more accurately, I suppose you’re a mom I have fucked.”

“I know what the fuck it means,” you said, cackling. “I can’t believe you just said that! You’re so mature, Daichi! What happened just now?”

“Sorry,” he said, putting his palms out in front of his chest. “It was a lapse in maturity, but I promise I didn’t mean for it to be derogatory. Seriously, I’ve never fucked a mom before!” The wonder in his eyes, the air of accomplishment about him was endearing. He was too cute.

“Congratulations,” you said, patting his chest as a giggle escaped your lips. “Glad you made it into the I fucked a mom club.”

Eventually, when the laughter between you died down, he called your orders in. He insisted on paying, of course. And when they asked for a name, he answered with 'Sawamura'. You tried to ignore how oddly comforting it was that Daichi gave your order his last name.

After the food arrived and Daichi made the exchange with the delivery guy, you went for the bags to carry them to the kitchen. But Daichi didn’t let go. Confused, you looked up at him. He just smiled and said, rather matter-of-factly, “I’ve got this.” That he so effortlessly and agenda-lessly took the lead knocked you back on your proverbial heels. It took a second to compute that someone was taking care of something for you. Even longer to decide that it was okay to relinquish control and let them this time.

The two of you settled down on fluffy floor pillows between the coffee table and couch, Daichi protectively sitting nearest the door. You put a movie on, but the two of you were too enthralled with each other to pay any attention to it. You fell deeper and deeper into conversation as you ate while the movie merely served as background noise.

You talked about your son - the nice, easy stuff. Daichi didn’t need to know about the hard stuff. He laughed when you told him that Suga was Musubi’s teacher, which was why you met and became friends.

“So, ultimately, I have your son to thank for meeting you,” Daichi mused with a warm smile.

You learned that Daichi was a bachelor - never married, no kids of his own. But he had grown up as the oldest of five kids in a single parent household.

“I have the utmost respect for single parents who are trying their damnedest to raise kids on their own. I watched my mom struggle a lot. She worked her ass off. I stepped up and sort of assumed the patriarch role; did as much as I could to help her out - made sure my brothers and sisters did their homework, brushed their teeth, shit like that.” He chuckled to himself. “She used to yell at them and say ‘just wait until your big brother hears about this!’”

You smiled, a quiet snicker hinting at your amusement. “I’m sure it meant the world to her that you helped out so much, but it must’ve been hard on you too. No kid should ever have to grow up that fast and take on that much responsibility.”

Daichi shrugged. “I agree, but I think I’m wired for it. Maybe I was placed with my particular family for that very reason. But I still wish I could’ve done more for her…”

You wondered what happened to his dad. Had he, like yours, decided he wanted a different life? Had he left his wife and kids for another woman? You could’ve asked but it would have meant crossing the self-imposed invisible line into intimacy. Better to keep things as superficial as possible.

Frowning, you put your hand on Daichi’s and brushed your thumb over his knuckles. “I think you’re right - the universe, or whatever you believe in, put you right where you were needed most. My son can be five handfuls, but I can’t imagine what it was like for your mom to be on her own with five kids. She’s lucky to have you as a son.”

“She tells me that all the time,” he said with a laugh. “And yeah, I don’t believe in a god per se, but I do think there is some kind of higher power that we’re all connected to.”

Your eyes widened. “Exactly! It’s like the universe is a macrocosm of how we each share a connection with the rest of humanity. Like, what if we ourselves are little universes and our brain cells are really just microcosmic galaxies?”

“So, everything just comprises a meta-universe? That would mean even the quarks and shit in atoms could be entire universes…” he wondered.

You nodded excitedly. “And it just gets infinitesimally smaller and smaller, but also infinitely bigger and bigger!” Gazing into the distance as though you could see it all before you, you added, “I often wonder just how big this sort of ‘body’ really is.” Daichi watched your lips move as you spoke. He so badly wanted to kiss you.

“I don’t think there is an end or a boundary. It just kinda goes on forever,” Daichi suggested, smiling. “Also, you just said ‘infinitesimally’...”

“Yeah?” You were trying to decode the gleam in his eyes.

“That was really fucking hot,” he smirked, catching you entirely off guard.

“Oh my god.” Embarrassed, you hid your face in your hands. “Shut up. You’re such a dork!”

“Talk nerdy to me, baby…” Daichi joked in a seductive tone.

“Don’t make fun of me!” you said, poking a finger into his side and consciously repressing the pang of hope that resonated in your heart when he called you ‘baby’, even though you knew it had only been in jest.

“I’m not making fun! I’m serious,” he retorted, protecting his torso. “I happen to think intelligence is sexy, okay?”

When the movie was over, you both agreed that it was high time to put the leftovers away and discard the trash. You each went to one of the bathrooms in your house, agreeing to rendezvous at the sofa afterwards.

When you returned, you found Daichi lying on his back, doing his best to spread the throw blanket out. Preoccupied, he didn’t see you hiding a smile behind your fingers as you walked towards him.

You laid down on top of him, between his legs, with the blanket pulled up to your shoulders. It was hard to focus on the movie with the weight of Daichi’s gentle hand resting on your back. You fought the battle, but ultimately lost the war with sleep. You dozed off to the sure, steady sound of his heartbeat and the mindless strokes of his thumb on your back.

Daichi noticed you were asleep when he muttered something about the movie, but you didn’t react. He looked down to see your eyelashes adorning your pretty cheek, which was smooshed against his chest, your back gently rising and falling in a contented rhythm. He smiled fondly as he took in your peaceful features, basking in the warmth that rushed to his heart.

He couldn’t help but wonder if your son’s dad was the one who had hurt you in the past. He could sense it the night that you met, but you had shut down when he asked you about it. He wouldn’t ask again, figuring that if/when you wanted him to know, you’d tell him. Whether it was because of what you had been through or what, he wasn’t sure, but Daichi felt the overwhelming urge to keep you safe.

A couple of hours later, you awoke to the soft shaking of your shoulder and the husky grumble of Daichi’s sleepy voice. Your eyes blinked open, and, at his prompting, you sat up so he could swing his legs off the sofa and stand. You started to get up as well, but he put his hand on your thigh to stop you.

“Let me.”

Sooner than you could process what was happening, he scooped you up in his arms. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck and held on as he carried you back to your bed.

After laying you down gently, he walked around to the other side while you shimmied out of your bottoms. Daichi towered over you, his dilated eyes fixed on yours as he stripped down to his boxers. You reached for him when he finally slid into bed next to you, your hands exploring his thick arms as he pulled you closer.

You carded your fingers into his dark brown hair, pulling him in for a needy kiss. Hooking his hand behind your knee, he brought your thigh to rest on his hip. Fuck, you needed him.

Pushing your fingers under his waistband, you reached into his boxers and pulled a groan from him when you wrapped your hand around his shaft. Your tongues swirled like the remnants of dreams; your inhibition lessened more so by sleep than it had been by alcohol a few nights before.

“Daichi…” you gasped.

He shivered at the way his name fell from your lips, like you were calling him forth to be your next breath of air. Soft sighs and wet kisses filled the dark room as he tugged his boxers off. He sucked hard enough on your skin to leave bruises and you returned the favor, pulling him to rest between your legs. Daichi rutted with slow rolls of his hips as you guided his hard cock to your entrance. His head fell to the crook of your neck, quiet gasps escaping both of you when the dripping head of his cock slipped inside your tight heat.

He fucked you slow, but hard. Loud claps of skin with long glides of his cock. The plush of your hips dimpled under Daichi’s fingers, his hot breath fanning across your neck as you anchored one of your arms around his back. Your other hand found purchase in his hair, fisting it as your head dipped backwards and your mouth opened in a loud moan. The orgasm he fucked you through was ethereal, dreamlike as your body drifted weightlessly through waves of pleasure.

“Gonna cum,” Daichi whispered with quickening thrusts. He swore under his hitching breath just before his hips crashed into yours one last time as he poured his hot seed inside your still-twitching pussy. He’d barely pulled out and rolled onto his back, keeping your body close to his when you both drifted off to sleep again.

Later the next day, with Daichi long gone and Subi back home, you’d been hurled back into the fray and chaos of making sure your angsty son got fed, bathed, and in bed.

You dragged your feet to your bathroom, feeling exhausted and grateful for some much-needed alone time. As much as you had enjoyed Daichi’s company, you were not accustomed to being so…physically active. You were sore all over, becoming increasingly aware of muscles you didn’t even know you had. There were also a lot of conflicting feelings swirling around inside you, but it was all so overwhelming. You would deal with that later.

As you undressed to get in the shower, you discovered the hickeys that Daichi had left between your thighs and decided it wouldn’t hurt to send him one last text. Thanks for the bruises on my legs, you typed, followed by an unsolicited pic of your inner thigh.

Three dots appeared at the bottom of the screen, making you smile.

Officer Big Dick: You’re welcome, ma’am. 😏

You quickly placed your phone screen-down on your vanity and covered your face, gritting to fight the urge to jump up and down and squeal with delight. The garbled sound that escaped you was foreign, even to yourself, as you dragged your hands down your face. Pull yourself together, y/n.

You picked up your phone again, navigating to Daichi’s contact card, thumb hovering over the little trash can icon before locking your phone and setting it back down.

Tomorrow. You would delete it tomorrow.

ch. 6 ☆ ch. 8

31 days of daichi mlist | main daichi mlist | haikyuu mlist

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angelsdevils · 1 year

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For Thanks & Giving can i please request kakucho. Kakucho is a single dad and has been dating reader a good while now. He thinks it’s time for reader to meet his daughter. Just plain fluff please! Thank you!

This is super cute! I hope you enjoy it! I may or may not have got carried away with this!

Word Count: 1.6K

Taglist:@omakeomuomu@thisbicc@galactict3a@rgtgt@chuuberrysworld@sattosugu@penguinlovestowrite@6-022-10-23@tobycisnt@coffee-and-chocolatesblog@k3rrpii@bontensbabygirl@ddeadcalm@smokandfire@artemis1862@obeymesimp11@ashwasherelol@oikawascutie@pinksilk@staymoarmyzen@leilalago@itzyunaa@black0pirate0cat @Reiners_milkbiddies @winterv-black

Kakucho listened as you talked about your recent trip to your sibling's home. You were going on about how adorable your nieces and nephews were. He knew how much you loved kids, and it warmed his heart a bit. The way your eyes brightened when you saw a mother pushing a stroller, or the kids who waved at you. The whole interaction made him smile.

It’s about time. I think she is ready, my daughter wants to meet her too.

“And then (niece’s name) yelled at her brother to get down from the tree but he ended up falling. She smacked him upside his head as he started to cry. I had to buy them both ice cream so neither of them would cry anymore. Twins I tell ya…”

“(Y/N), I want you to meet my daughter.”

“I am sorry what?” You asked shocked and he grabbed your hand gently.

“I know I never told you about my daughter, but I didn’t know how you would react. But seeing how much you love kids, my daughter really wants to meet you.”

“You… have a daughter?” You asked and Kakucho tensed a bit wondering if he messed up.

“Yeah, I am sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“You didn’t tell me you had a daughter? I could have been taking her shopping, bonding with her, and spoiling her… and you're just telling me?” You felt offended and Kakucho blinked surprised.

“Wait time out, you said she wants to meet me? She knows about me?” You asked again before he could speak again.

“Well, she grabbed my phone and saw a picture of you, and wanted to meet you. But I hadn’t told you yet, and even though I know you love kids. I wanted to make sure you were really okay with me having a kid of my own,” Kakucho said, and your eyes softened, “I wanted to protect her from any pain. But at the same time, I really love you and didn’t want you to leave.”

“Kaku~ I would never leave you,” you said. You gently cupped his cheeks and he sighed softly leaning into your touch.

“So, you aren’t upset that I didn’t tell you sooner?”

“I’m not, I get it. You wanted and needed to protect your little girl first. I am happy you want me to meet her now, and I can’t wait to do so.”

You pressed a small kiss to his lips and he closed his eyes with a small smile. You parted and looked up at him and you had a wide smile.

“So… when can I meet her?”

“Hmm, when are you able to?”

“Uh, now…”

Kakucho laughed and got up after paying the bill for the coffees you two had. He held your hand and led you back to his house.

“What’s her name?”

“Her name is Haruhi, she is seven years old.”

“Gah I can’t wait to meet her…” you started to bounce up and down and he couldn’t help but laugh. He glanced down at you before looking ahead, a part of him was wondering how his daughter will react after meeting you.

Once the two of you arrived, he walked into the house with you. You both removed your shoes, as small little feet were heard running.

“Daddy!” A small ball of brown hair turned the corner but she skidded to a stop as she looked up at her. She looked up at you with wide eyes and her head tilted.

“Hey Princess, have you been good?” He asked and she quickly looked at Kakucho, nodding her hair.

“Yeah! Ran did my hair in pigtails, uncle Rin tried… but I looked terrible.”

“You are home early, oh~,” Ran said and looked you up and down.

“Don’t even think about it. You guys can leave now, I am staying.” He said as he picked his daughter up and Ran held his hands up.

“Alright, alright.” Ran winked at you before leaving with his brother. You followed Kakucho to the living room and he sat down with Haruhi on his lap. She went back to look at you and you waved with a smile. She looked at her dad, before at you.

“Daddy, you need to take better pictures of her… she is so much prettier in person. You suck.” She told her father, and Kaku’s mouth dropped open. You couldn’t help but cover your mouth and laugh as she hopped off of his lap and ran to you.

“What’s your name?” She asked.

“My name is (L/N) (Y/N), just call me (Y/N) though…”

“Why are you dating daddy? He is lame… uncle Ran is better.”

“Hey!” He said offended and she looked at him and you chuckled.

“Well, your father is such a gentleman, and really nice to me. Plus I love him a lot.”

“You do? Dad, you better not hurt her, I like her. I want her to be my mommy so when I go to school I can tell everyone I have a mommy now.”

“Haruhi! (Y/N), I am so sorry for her behavior.” Kakucho was a blushing mess, and he tried to grab his daughter but she ran away from him laughing. You laughed as he sighed and turned to you.

“I think she likes you more than me,” he grinned.

“Yep, I do! (Y/N), let’s play dolls!” She pulled you away from Kakucho and he chuckled just watching you two. You looked over at him, and he flashed you a smile. You focused on playing with Haruhi, and you were laughing.

“I am going to get you guys something to drink. I will be back,” Kakucho said. You both nodded and when he was out of sight, she got up and shut the door. She leaned against the door and looked at you.

“Is everything okay?” You asked her and she nodded.

“Will you visit more often?”

“Of course.”

“So you won’t leave?” She asked again and you blinked slightly.

“Why would I leave?” You tilted your head with a small frown as she looked down at her feet.

“So if my daddy marries you, will you be happy to be my mommy? My mommy didn’t want me, she left and I never met her.”

“Honey come here…” you opened your arms and she sat down in your lap. She sniffled slightly and you hugged her tightly.

Kakucho had come back to the room but noticed the door was closed. He leaned his ear against the door to hear his daughter talking. He felt his heart break as he heard the words that she was saying. It was true that his baby mama didn’t want Haruhi, but he tried to shield the truth from her. But he knew she was smart and didn’t help when she temporarily came into Haruhi’s life, only to call her an accident. Kakucho got pissed at her and demanded she never talks to Haruhi again. He was never one to hit women, but when she told Haruhi that he never wanted to hit someone so bad.

He continued to listen to what was being said.

“I don’t know anything about your birth mommy. But if she was mean to you, then you don’t need her. Your dad loves you very much, and I will care for you as well. You are so precious and sweet, and anyone who leaves doesn’t deserve you. And I can’t speak about the future, I don’t know if I or your dad will get married. That is not a topic that ever came up.”

“If he asked you would you say yes?” She asked looking up.

“I would tell him yes, in every language. And if that happened I would gladly sign papers to adopt you as my own daughter as well. But even if I don’t adopt you, I will always be there for you.”

“Even if dad somehow messes up?”

“You don’t have much faith in your dad do you?” You ask and she shook her head.

“Well I doubt Kaku would ruin anything, but if by some unfortunate events things do turn south. I will still visit you, and we can do all the girly things together.” Her eyes brightened and she hugged your neck. You wrapped your arms around her.

I am going to marry her. I have to, she is so perfect.

Kaku walked in with the drinks, you and Haruhi looked at him and he raised an eyebrow.

“Are you giving all of my hugs away Princess?”

“Yep…”

Suddenly she gasps at the realization.

“What’s wrong?” You and Kaku ask in unison.

“Uncle Ran bought me something and this is perfect now!” She got up from your lap and ran to the living room. Kakucho sat on the floor confused but he turned his head to you.

“Hey, I overheard the conversation…” he said to you and you looked at him.

“Oh really?” You asked, feeling your cheeks heat up and he grinned.

“Yeah, but I want to thank you. Comforting her, she always felt a bit insecure because of things her mother said to her. I couldn’t get her confidence up.

“It’s okay, I don’t mind. And I meant everything I said.”

“Everything?”

“Everything.”

“So I can propose to you, and expect a yes in every language?”

“Maybe not every language but definitely expect a yes.” You said as Haruhi came in.

“Close your eyes daddy and (Y/N)...”

You and Kakucho closed your eyes and you felt something placed on your head.

“Okay, open them.”

She was holding a small mirror in her hands, Kakucho was wearing a King's crown, you a Queen's crown, and she was wearing a Princess's crown.

“I am Daddy’s Princess, you are Daddy’s Queen, which makes him a King!” She giggled and you kissed his cheek before pulling her into a hug.

“I like the sound of that Haruhi. My Princess and My Queen.” He said with a hand on his chin.

He kissed his daughter’s head before pecking your lips. She kissed your cheek and you kissed the top of her head.

© [@angelsdevils] all rights reserved. none of my posts or stories should be modified, reposted, etc. I do not own the character or the fanart, but I own the plots of these stories. All fanart goes to their appropriate owners.

#tokyo revengers #TR #TR Kakucho #Kakucho fluff #dad kakucho #kakucho x reader #kaku TR #Tokyo revengers Kakucho #Thanks & Giving Event

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