#i always liked the idea of drawing this because i have a nice memory of me & my sibling in a diner similarly | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

seokjinsonlyone · 5 months

Text

this how i think bts would be if they was your husband

namjoon:

you’d have your own rooftop garden together; like he’d get someone to get it setup architecturally the way he has it envisioned in his head and to give like advice on the types of plants that are good for this set up but y’all would do all the seeding and watering and weed pulling yourselves

evening walks together around sunset through the park or around the river hand in hand where you just soak up nature and talk about any and everything

you both like the idea of having a pet but know that you're too busy to keep one regularly so you end up getting fish; he gets a cute little 20 gallon tank and like five fish but he actually does a lot of research on which fish live the best together, which food and treats they like best, the best plants and knick knacks to put inside, how to clean it, etc.; all in all takes the whole situation way more seriously than you'd thought he would; it was supposed to be sumn light for the summer time but you'd think he's filming an episode of tanked for all the time and effort he pours into it

sits side by side with you rubbing circles into your lower back whenever you need to rant about something

loves it when you get desperate for him so sometimes around the time you're ovulating he teases you; will walk around the house in nothing but his briefs with his glasses on talking in his deep voice; will invade your space like if you're in the kitchen making food or something he's gonna come up behind you and wrap that strong arm around your middle kissing up on you asking meaningless questions about what you're doing until you finally snap and drag him to the bedroom

consistently opens every door for you and pulls out your chair at restaurants even if it's five, ten years down the line

the type to never know where anything is; it's not even that you switch things up a lot it's just that he never forgot the muscle memory of where things were when he lived alone; so he's constantly calling out to you asking where something is; half the time what he looking for be in very obvious locations but his mind is just so all over the place that he overlooks it

uses you as his sounding board when he has a situation he needs handled; will just sit there and think out loud to you for minutes and hours; you don't even be saying that much really like occasionally he'll ask what you think but he appreciates having a listening ear more than anything and you're happy to be there for him even if his incessant rambling makes you wanna strangle yourself sometimes

would learn to help you take out your box braids; it makes you nervous when he first offers to help because he can be a bit rough sometimes but he's oddly gentle and diligent with the task; once he's gotten good with that you convince him to wash your hair too; and take down/wash day is less dreadful because of it

you two become a package deal; like it could be a boys night or a girl's night and you're always gonna try to bring the other with and most of the time y'alls friends don't mind like you're one of the boys and he's one of the girls so it's fine; even if he like invites some friends over the house and you stay in the room to give them some space at some point he's gonna go and check up on you; you'll just be laying in bed on your laptop or phone, watching tv or something and he's gonna lay beside you and ask what you doing make sure you're okay next thing you know 30 minutes gon go by and you'll have to remind him that he has guests over; then he's gonna convince you to come out with him and stay tucked up under his arm until his friends leave or pass out

seokjin:

draws you a bath when he knows you’ve had a long day; it’d be really nice too; he'd light your favorite candle and set it on the counter; add a fragrant moisturizing bath bomb and sprinkle in some flower petals; once you settle in he'll put down one of them over the tub trays and hand you a glass of wine and your laptop so you can watch whatever you want or stream music while you’re in the tub

loves referring to you as 'his wife'; like y'all will be with a group of your friends that knew you from the get go and they'll ask him where he got his jacket from and he'll be like "oh my wife bought it for me" and they'll be like "🥴 boi we knew her long before she was ever worried about you just say her name" aksksksk

every couple months y’all will go on cooking dates with his celebrity chef friends and their wives; which is basically them in the kitchen being loud cooking a meal he specifically chose for you and you and the wife not too far away watching them while being wined and dined

not particularly handy but he feels like as a man there’s just certain things he should be able to do; so if your sink is leaking or there’s a problem with your car battery or something he’s gonna hop on youtube and figure out how to solve it first; calls an actual repairman to deal with it if he can’t fix it without being moderately inconvenienced

insists on getting a pool installed even tho you tell him you would barely use it bc you hate having to redo your hair more than you like to swim; you actually do end up using it all the time bc he orders one of those giant canopy floats and y'all just lay up there and take naps or talk; the whole outdoor area is actually bomb tbh like there's an entire sheltered outdoor kitchen and grill patio area with fans on the ceiling for when it gets hot and a fully loaded bar; y'all honestly spend more time outside during the summer than inside and get scolded for not entertaining people more often

if you reeeaaalllyyy want him to go shopping with you he will but he’d rather just give you his card and you gather up some of your girls and y’all can go nuts together

tries to butter you up when he knows he's in trouble but it's never with anything good like he'll stop at the convenience store on the way home and pick up some things to try to sway you; he get home and you're waiting for him slightly ticked off and he's like "i know you're mad but look at what i got you and it's a cosmic brownie, sour gummy worms (his favorite candy mind you), some wet wipes, and an arizona tea

official driver of the relationship; lets you be the passenger princess of your dreams like whenever you need to get from point a to point b he’s getting you there all you gotta do is sit down and look pretty (and play decent music while he’s driving)

even if you’re not a certified Gamer Girl™️ when there’s like a new mario game or something along those lines that doesn’t require a ton of skill and know how to play you’ll no life it together; like will straight up play for like 16 hours a day until you beat it; you still force him to eat and shower however but you’re not allowed to touch the controller until he returns bc he’d be afraid you’ll lose all your lives

the type to get super close with your family; like you look over one day and see yo mama calling him and you listen to him and they're literally just catching up???; he goes out on bros days with your dad and brothers; all your cousins follow him on instagram and be sending him memes; and you just sit there tryna figure out how he singlehandedly replaced you in your family bc they be treating him better than they treat you

yoongi:

after hearing you talk about wanting a detached claw foot jacuzzi tub for the 1000th time he decides to just go ahead and get your dream house built from the ground up; gives his input in every step of the process since he has so many opinions on architecture, furniture, finishes, and overall aesthetics; sometimes there’s little disagreements when your design styles clash but in the end he makes sure that you definitely get everything you’ve ever wanted included

warms your car up for you in the morning during winter months; unimportant but i just know he would go out in a sweatshirt and some slides like barefoot toes out in 20° weather shuffling out to make sure your car is nice and cozy and the frost is off the windshield

every now and again you’ll just be chilling at home and then he’ll be like “yah go get dressed we’re going out” and then he’ll genuinely take you on one of the best dates ever; it may not be over the top every time but somehow it’s always exactly what you needed; acts nonchalant about it when you’re gushing over how great of a time you’re having; “ah it’s nothing” but he’s secretly super self satisfied bc he knows he’s killing it

sometimes he’ll be sprawled out on the couch watching basketball and you’ll be tryna tell him something but he’s so engrossed that he won’t hear a word you say so you gotta throw a pillow at him to get his attention

untangles your necklaces for you; sweeps the hair from the back of your neck and clasps it together once he's got it free

likes leaning on your shoulder when you’re in bed on the computer; not really nosy about what it is that you’re doing whether it’s work or whatever but just likes to listen to the sound of your typing as his own personal asmr; also loves it when you get your nails done like will happily pay for a new set every other week because of the tippity tapping that accompanies everything you do

sets up a joint bank account for you two like immediately bc he doesn't have anything to hide and what's his is yours; but also sets you up a separate savings account that he funnels money into biweekly bc he wants you to be okay always even if one day it has to be without him

if you're both up late and you're feeling peckish he'll whip up a quick late night snack for y'all to munch on

never really comments when your hormones throw your body system out of wack; like if you randomly had night sweats for a couple days and sweat through your clothes and blanket he'd just nudge you awake so you can dry off and turn the ac on

is extra physically affectionate whenever you start getting irritated even if he’s the source of your irritation; will grab your hand and pull you into him planting kisses on top of your head and rubbing up and down your back until you’re sufficiently pacified

hoseok:

all his numeric passcodes are related to you; like it’s either your birthday or your anniversary, the day y’all met, first date, etc.

sometimes he likes to sit on the toilet when you're in the shower and talk to you; will periodically poke his head in to check your progress depending on how long you're in there; ooos and aahs and waggles his eyebrows every time he does so

some people think you’re some kind of dictator bc his response to every proposal he receives is “let me check with my wife first”; you’re not tho he just likes running things by you bc he’s only ever okay if y’all are on the same page; sometimes you really are his scapegoat if he doesn’t wanna do something tho and you’re fine with being his excuse! you love spending time with your man!!

y’all draw lots over who has to kill the bugs in the house; he tries his best to overcome his fear for you he really does but sometimes he look at the bug and the bug look at him and his heart can’t take it; generally tho there’s less fear of y’all conquer it together

at least once a month he books a couples spa day appointment for you two; deep tissue massages, facials, manicures, pedicures, the works like you just get absolutely spoiled; his motto is that if you feel good and look good then you can be good and be good to each other; unrelated but he get a kick out of eating the cucumbers that are supposed to help soothe around your eyes

you get so used to the sound effects he makes all the time that when he’s not around you have to have some kind of background sounds whether it’s music or white noise just something to fill the air.

you both like plushies, funko pops, action figures and all that so there's a dedicated toy room in your home; all the toys that you actually care about are placed higher up and in cases to keep in good condition but things that you don't mind having some use are accessible; the whole room is carpeted and there are some fluffy rugs too; there's a 65 inch tv on one wall and a computer area for gaming as well; the whole room is illuminated via led lights; needless to say all the kids you know love when y'all babysit them; they stay in that one room the entire time except when they want a snack bc there's no eating in the toy room; jungkook also loves to randomly come and hangout in the toy room by himself

wouldn't tolerate any kind of disrespect toward you; say you went out to a restaurant and the server was being rude to you, he'd clock it so fast he'd be talking to a manager having your server swapped out and dessert on the house before you even realized what they said

y'all try new hobbies together; it's never anything you have experience or are good at which makes it even more fun as you're doing it; like you'll get one of those woobles crochet kits and spend like a month trying to figure it out in your free time and make whatever little creature you bought

never actually stops dating you; will still have an active folder with activities and restaurants he wants the both of you to go to; even if you both lack the time and energy to actually go out on a date he's lighting a candle and pulling out the fine china for you it doesn't matter that you're wearing loungewear and sitting on the floor in front of the tv; he wants you to feel special always

jimin:

intimacy between you two go crazy; you’re as close as close can be like if there were such a thing as soulmates you two would be it; you’re consistently trapped within your own bubble and even if you’re out and about it’s still almost as if no one else existed; like say y’all went out to a club music is thumping people are everywhere it’s a generally Loud environment if you softly called his name from beside him he would turn to you immediately; or someone could brush past him and it’d be whatever but if you ghosted your hand up his arm he would get goosebumps; you’re just insanely in tuned to each other

would love if you had a softer build bc he likes the way you feel like heaven when he lays on you; also he just likes squeezing at your squishy bits; he finds it equal parts amusing and satisfying; like he'll squeeze at your boob when you're half asleep in bed just to annoy you; you'll be turned on your side and his arm will be slung across your waist and he'll just inch his hand up until he reaches your boob and squeezes; giggles evilly every time you smack his hand away and won't stop until you're whining and kicking at him to leave you alone and let you sleep

sometimes you’ll build a giant fort in the living room when he’s getting overwhelmed by life complete with fairy lights strung up overhead and pillows and more blankets covering the floor to make it extra comfy; you spend all day together in there playing games and talking nonsense and eating snacks and end the night cuddled up his arm wrapped around your shoulders, your head tucked into his neck watching movies until you’re sure his head is free from all his worries

loves to be fed, literally; like when dinner time comes he will make one big plate and pull up with a fork and a knife and a waiting attitude; if you don't play along immediately he's gonna put his hands over yours and make you feed him bites until you take over; likes to feed you as well; just always sharing his food with you and expects you to do the same

he gets obsessive when you don't answer his calls; like if he knows you're not busy and he calls you and you don't answer it drives him up a wall and he will spam you with texts and at least a dozen more calls until you pick up; not even because he has anything urgent to tell you he just always craves your attention; bonus: ends every conversation by saying i love you like you could be on the phone for 15 seconds just confirming something really quickly and he's gonna make sure he's told you he loves you before you click end call

doesn’t say anything when he finds you crying just pulls you into him and lets you get it all out; once you start calming down a bit he’ll pull back slightly, gently cupping your face in his hands and swipe away all your tears; only when he’s sure the tears have come to a complete stop does he softly ask “what’s going on?”

still gets shy and flustered around you; it doesn’t stop him from being himself around you whatsoever but it’s very obvious when you have the upper hand in a situation

you can't just tell him you need an item from the store bc half the time he'll go and come back with the wrong thing; you gotta send him a picture of it and that don't even work all the time; most of his solo ventures to the store at your request end in him facetimeing you bc he swears up and down they don't have what you asked for but then you end up finding it for him and you not even there

knows you admire his art skills so he leaves little doodles on post it notes around the house; is really proud when you display the ones you find really cute in your phone case

the type to put his life in your hands; when y'all go out to eat he tells you to order for him bc "you know what i like"; will let you dress him/style his hair however bc "you know what looks good on me"; he just literally trusts and defers to your judgement as much as possible

taehyung:

the type to tighten all the jars when you’re upset with him so you’re forced to ask him for help and talk to him anyway

would try to set up a really romantic dinner for you complete with rose petals and candles and champagne on ice but he'd be so focused on creating the right ambience that he forgets to order the food and one thing bout tae is he ain't a chef and even if he was he wouldn't have enough time before you showed up so you'd end up having a pb&j and cup noodles

sometimes if he has a lot of energy but you’re asleep he’ll poke at you until you’re awake and then he’ll ask if you’re asleep and when you say yes he’ll keep messing with you until he’s able to drag you out to play with him

knows how to tie a tie but claims it looks better when you tie it so whenever he wears a suit he gets you to finish off his look; really he just likes to be manhandled by you and the grip you have around his neck does something for him

if you get him riled up in the morning he just lives there all day; partially aware of what's going on around him but undoubtedly distracted, thinking about you, wanting you; hands and eyes are glued to the phone at all times hoping you'll message him or something even if it is just you teasing him some more; he's putty in your hands and he knows it but when the day is over and y'all are both home you're his

you have to come to major compromises when it comes to decorations; like you let him have his accent wall that he puts his paintings of his basquiat-esque faces but the weird cyber bug and person shark statues and the butt chair have to go

you do majority of the cooking so he takes dish duty very seriously; will swat you away if you try to help most times; however there’s a special place in his heart for the times you ignore him and help anyway by drying the dishes and it’s you him and some music playing and you’re singing and dancing around the kitchen together

there's a legitimate argument about your use of a body pillow; he genuinely gets offended bc is he not enough for you? why can't you just cuddle him? why would you go and put the great wall of china in between you two? what's with the distance? was he too much for you? like the situation blows completely out of proportion for no reason skslklsks the argument ends when you force him to cuddle it and he instantly understands the hype behind it; that doesn't curb his jealousy towards the object however and you're only allowed to use it when he's not in bed with you

a whiny baby when he's sick; you'd think he had tuberculosis in the 12th century instead of a common cold the way he be acting; a piece of tissue stuck in his nose, piled under three blankets, shivering every five minutes on cue; you give him a good day of dealing with the dramatics after that you leave him in the room with a bottle of dayquil and a packet of vitamin c until he decides to get on with his life like a normal human being

loves planning weekend getaways for the two of you; like every other month you guys are out of town for like 3-4 days in the spirit of “rekindling”; he always rents a really nice and cozy cabin type joint and most of the trips are spent just enjoying each others company and the scenery, walking around the town latched onto his arm and eating good food; you come back from each outing refreshed and more in love than you already were

jungkook:

every sunday he checks your car to make sure it has a full tank and if it doesn’t he fills it up for you

you two have separate rooms bc you both like to have space to just exist as an individual from time to time (also it’s really nice to have a place to storm away to when you’re in a fight) but you end up cuddled up next to each other every night anyway

has a very strict laundry schedule and routine; gets annoyed if you don't do it how he likes when he's unable to

watches you while you’re getting ready; he’ll be sitting at the edge of the bed while you walk around from your closet to the dressers circling the room trying to find something to wear; you’ll be having a conversation with him the whole time and after you walk past him for the 4th time his clinginess gets the best of him and he catches you by the waist before you can fully bypass him; he pulls you in between his legs and just hugs you to him for a few moments while you run your hands through his hair

follows you around the house with his mic serenading you like three times a week

comes behind you when you’re cooking or washing dishes or something and just pats at your butt for a while and by a while i mean he won’t stop until you elbow him and threaten to cut his hands off; he just laughs and gets one more grope in before backing off

traces the contours of your face and murmurs all kinds of cute and lovely and cheesy stuff about you when you’re both in bed and he thinks you’re sleep

if you made him a good meal you’d hear about it constantly for the next week; like every other sentence is a “seriously, it was so good” and he won’t stop until you make it again; sometimes he’ll try making it himself to see if he could do better but it always tastes best coming from you

an absolute menace in the grocery store; will spend the first 15-20 minutes behaving as he grabs whatever he needs personally and once that's done he's acting a fool; doing that thing that kids do when they use the cart as a skateboard like push off on it and then hop on to ride out the wave; grabbing all kinds of junk that neither of you need; touching everything even when he has no intention of buying it; you have to grab his ear and threaten him with celibacy to get him to calm down

whenever you’re sitting next to each other could be on the couch out at dinner in bed etc he likes to play with your hand and fiddle with your ring; will often slide it off and try to fit the ring on his fingers; then he’ll put it back on and kiss your fingertips for safekeeping

a/n: i worked on this for months and months and now it’s finally here lemme know what u thought 😩🙏

1K notes · View notes

munson-blurbs · 11 months

Text

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

1K notes · View notes

mrs-kodzuken · 2 months

Note

Can I have a timeskip!Ushijima comfort fic? Like Ushi doesn't understand the concept of skinship like holding hands and hugs so he often shrugs off reader's attempts in skinships, which of course made reader feel sad ㅠㅠ

Thank you and have a nice day! <3

Understanding you ♡

Pairing: Aged up! Wakatoshi Ushijima x fem!reader

WC: 1.6k

Genre: slight angst to comfort/fluff

CW: fem!reader, inexperienced in relationships!Wakatoshi, slight angst from ushi :( , fluff and comfort all in the end :)) , maybe some self deprecation from reader, best friends with tendou, communication is always key

note: thank you for requesting this! I hope it’s up to your expectations, sugar!! <3

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

Being the girlfriend of the Wakatoshi Ushijima was something I didn’t expect would hurt this much. As his girlfriend, I understood the importance of volleyball since it quite literally is his career path. However, being in a relationship is a whole other aspect to think about.

There never really was anything that really stood out to me about his wrongdoings. He always made it to every dinner plan, he didn’t forget the classic month to month anniversaries, he seemed like he was just a gift from heaven.

I knew it was too good to be true when I realized we, or I, was severely lacking in the physical department of our relationship.

Ushijima and I never really got closer within touching or skin-ship distance. That really sucked for me and hurt my feelings since he aced every other aspect of our relationship, no pun intended.

I wasn’t sure if he was just uncomfortable with touching me or if he had some kind of weird feeling about touching me. However, with physical touch being my number one priority of love language I wasn’t sure how to go about telling him my feelings.

Giving Wakatoshi free rein to plan out his schedule, except for date nights, was a must. He is a grown man and I’m not his mother, but I always felt bad when there was something important, like this, to be talked about.

I couldn’t help but to bite my lip as I stared at our private text messages. His contact name, ‘Ushi baby’ stared right back at me whilst I tried to work up the courage to send a text.

Deciding against it, I threw my phone onto my bed and sighed loudly. He was at practice and had a game tomorrow so I didn’t want to bother him or cloud his mind with meaningless things like what I need to talk about.

I couldn’t help to wallow in my own pity. The clock on my white painted walls doing nothing but making the sound of ticking throughout my room which eventually annoyed me enough to leave.

It was around the time for Ushi’s practice to be over and I really wanted him to come over, I just didn’t know how everything would go.

Whenever we had first started dating I got introduced, and interviewed, by Wakatoshi’s best friend, Tendou. And now, Tendou was one of my closest friends so I decided to call the Chocolatier himself for support.

After the phone had rang for three seconds it picked up, “Hello! Hello!” the familiar voice sounded throughout my kitchen.

“Hey Ten! I am in need of advice and company.” I admitted due to the facetime call revealing his apron on with some stains of colors on it.

“Oh really?” He asked, drawing out the ‘really’.

“Yes, really. I need to talk to Wakatoshi, I’m just not sure how. Any ideas?”

“That depends on what you’re going to talk to him about. Saying the wrong thing could make him easily misunderstand what you mean and vice versa.” Tendou tried to poetically explain, as if I didn’t already know that.

“Yeah, thank you so much,” I rolled my eyes, “I’m feeling a bit.. lonely in our relationship lately. I need more physical affection from him and I’m not sure how to really bring it up because times that’s happened before.”

That little spill from me made memories pop up into my head of Ushijima rejecting my attempts for physical love.

I could only remember how he shrugged himself away from holding my hand or kissing me after I brought him a well-balanced lunch meal one day during practice.

I never felt more embarrassed or ashamed in my life. My own boyfriend rejected my advances to give him, and to receive love from him in front of his entire team.

It wasn’t the only time that that had happened. I tried doing it behind closed doors just in case he didn’t like publicly displaying affection. However, that didn’t work either when he moved away from me one night after being out to dinner.

From that point on it’s just been messaging, very little facetime, some phone calls, and occasionally visiting each other’s apartment. I wasn’t sure how to proceed with this, and I certainly didn’t think it was anywhere near enough to breaking up.

However, that doesn’t mean he didn’t hurt my feelings nor have been continuing to hurt them. Whether on purpose or not.

With Ushijima being a member of the Schweiden Adlers, I knew some of his teammates and occasionally talked with them about how my boyfriend was doing time to time.

However, I couldn’t help to not reach out to them within the last couple of weeks. I didn’t have the courage to confidently ask about him.

Tendou’s voice brought me back to where I needed to be, which was having this conversation to communicate my needs across to him.

“And since knowing him for a while helps my understanding, I think a simple conversation would do the trick. Honestly, I’m not sure why you called if you knew that too?” He questioned me, eyes peering dangerously close to mine through the tiny phone screen.

I bit my lip, “It’s just… he has a game tomorrow. I don’t want to ruin that by spouting dumb nonsense about how I’m not feeling this or that from him.”

Growing up, I’ve always considered other peoples thoughts, opinions, feelings before mine. It was just the kind of person I was, and now it hurts me the most when I need to express myself.

“Girl. Fuck that game.” He rolled his eyes at me.

“Yes Wakatoshi loves his career and it’ll always be there but you’re something in his life that can disappear at any moment. I think he’d want to know,” Tendou tried reasoning with my dumb logic as he pointed a wooden spoon in my direction.

I gave up. I knew in the back of my mind that Tendou was definitely right and I wasn’t but it was my own self that was keeping me from doing what I needed to do.

“Alright, I think I’ll ask him to come over tonight then.” I tried to say confidently after I made up my mind of what needed to be done.

“Great! When I’m in Tokyo next I’ll be sure to bring a little something for you and him.” Tendou winked at me before ending the facetime call.

That only left me to do one thing, text my boyfriend. I quickly sent him a text asking if it would be okay for him to come over after practice.

My nerves were all over the place as I waited for the tall, olive haired man to show up at my place.

Soon the door bell brought me out of my mind trance and when I opened the door I saw the one and only Ushijima.

“Hey Toshi, come in,” I widened the door after taking a good look at him.

It seemed like he came here right out of practice, he was still in his whole practice uniform. His usual stoic face didn’t change once I sat down on to my living room couch.

“Is something the matter, (Y/n)?” He bluntly asked, getting straight to the point with me.

I took a deep breath to prepare myself, “Yes, Toshi. There is something the matter. My feelings are hurt and have been hurt for a while due to the lack of physical touch in our relationship.” I paused for a moment to look over his face.

He seemed to be intently listening on every word I was saying which gave me the impression to keep going.

“I just want more skin ship with you like hugging, kissing, hang holding, or even just sitting beside you with arms touching. I feel deprived of that because you seem to always move away when I try to initiate it. Is there a reason or..?” I trailed off, finishing what I was saying and asking a question to see his side.

“I’m sorry for making you feel that way, (Y/n). I don’t understand the idea of that. It makes you feel more loved than usual?” He asked, trying to work around in his head of what I had mentioned.

“Well, yes. Without it I feel upset or rejected by you sometimes.” I hung my head low a bit, it was embarrassing having to discuss this. However, I was always one to get embarrassed or ashamed at anything I needed.

“I will try, for you.” He promised, his large hand reaching over to me and placing it on my knee. He was very warm and it traveled through my body.

I smiled a bit, “Thank you, I really appreciate it. I’m sorry for not telling you sooner.”

I scooted closer to him on the couch and he gave me his one million dollar small smile that I love. His arms wrapped around my shoulders whilst I hugged his torso. His lean but built, very built, body touched my soft one, I loved this feeling.

We stayed like that for a minute, nothing heard but the low volume of my living room TV and our breathing.

“Thank you, Toshi. I really appreciate that you’ll try for me.” I pulled away, already missing the hug but needing to say that to his face.

“Of course, love.” His hand came up to caress my face and I leaned into his touch.

The aching in my heart and body went away after discussing that with him. It was all just a bit miscommunication which was easily fixed after I expressed what I needed to.

I couldn’t be more content.

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

a/n: I hope you enjoyed anon!! I’m terrible at writing for Ushijima but thank you for helping me extend the people I can write for :))

you all know my header rules, if not see pinned post!!

180 notes · View notes

prince-kallisto · 2 months

Text

I wonder why each little bird has someone to sing to, sweet things to, a gay little love melody (*´∀`)♪🎶

This drawing is a little celebration for Crowley’s card that will be dropping soon on the 19th! The lyric above is from Sleeping Beauty 🎶 Crowley and Lilia give me the vibes of those older couples who always like to dance or sing along to music, no matter how bad or good they may be at it. The Magical Gramophone is in the background, which can apparently play any song from memory. What song would they listen to? 🤔

(More headcanons and reference image credits below the cut! ^_^)

Ever since the Crowley-Levan theory became more well known, I heard many say that it meant that there would be potential romantic undertones (past or present) between Crowley and Lilia, and…I genuinely thought that was part of the appeal! ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡ Levan theory or not, I really like them. What is their ship name? Crowlilia?? If anyone knows, please let me know!🐦‍⬛🦇 Crowlilia nation where are you…

I don’t really think about headcanon stuff that often, so I thought it would be fun to think of some random headcanons as I went along with the drawing!

It would be fun if Crowley had feathers on his body that are usually covered up by his suit (I absolutely adore Falin from Dungeon Meshi). I see some incredible JP artists draw Crowley with these puffier sort of pants, which I also love. I think it would be interesting if Crowley had a sort of greyed-pale, slight splotchy purple and yellow skin tone, like a deceased body that has reached the pallor mortis stage? (*ﾟ▽ﾟ*) It causes an uncanny and uncomfortable feeling whenever most students look at him…there’s just something wrong with him and no one wants to ask NAJXJSJD (I’d like to think that it’s blot related, and his long-term exposure to it has Not Been Good for him 💀)

For Lilia, I think he deserves some bat-like ears ^_^ I imagine him to have scars all over due to his past as a General. I ended up drawing his torso and legs less as thin as they are in canon by accident, but I kept it because I think he’d have a better diet now than his General days as well! (*ﾟ▽ﾟ*) I am jealous of Lilia,,,I’d like to dance with Crowley! (● ˃̶͈̀ロ˂̶͈́)੭ꠥ⁾⁾

I’m really no good at thinking of relationship headcanons haha, so I’d love to hear everyone’s ideas about them! Even though their silliness would technically be combined in a relationship, I feel like Crowley and Lilia could balance each other out? Despite all the antics they would certainly get up to, there’s a mutual acknowledgment of each other’s life experience and age. I can imagine them idly talking about parts of their own pasts over tea or a stroll in nice weather…maybe not huge chunks of backstory, but just little moments from their long lifespan that has stuck with them since. Crowley could potentially become more responsible because he’d be fretting over Lilia’s gaming time ANJDJXBD. Crowley would absolutely eat Lilia’s cooking and to him it would taste good…crows/ravens can eat pretty much anything like meat, berries, garbage and carrion so I don’t think Crowley would be upset about the chopped liver randomly inserted into his meal 😭 Even if they don’t really look it, to me they really give off the vibes of the typical image of an older couple! 🤣🐦‍⬛🦇

Reference Image

Models: Suzy Parker and Robin Tattersall

Photographer: Richard Avedon

#i am cringe but i am free #twisted wonderland #twst #twst headcanons #dire crowley #lilia vanrouge #twst dire crowley #twst lilia vanrouge #Crowlilia #Crowley x Lilia #my art #kallistopost #why am I always one of the captains of a rare pair HELPP 😭😭😭#plaindonut I miss you…I will draw you again one day I promise #also one of these days are really want to buckle down and learn how to color…#I don’t really know what I’m doing and I want to experiment with more brushes and learn more about color theory 🤣

188 notes · View notes

helsensm · 5 months

Note

I cannot hold it in anymore I am absolutely OBSESSED with your art and the way you draw Lao.

I also would like to inquire….. just perhaps… what are your top head-canons for him, and/or your opinions on popular ships for him/which ones you like?

No pressure!! I hope you are having a wonderful day 🧡

me, trying to act normal every time an awesome artist I look up to says something nice about my art

Thank you so much! first of all, please take this Lao with you, he's yours now~

now let me preheat my bad english.....

Most of my Lao headcanons (if they are not related to a particular art I made) were yoinked from another ppl, because DAMN FELLAS your brains are sexy. 😏 So you might have heard some of them already, but here's my top general hcs for him.

NOTE: we are talking about the current timeline mk1 Kung Lao

- Lao is very expressive with his hands and he's THE TOUCH person. Just look at how many times he took Raiden by the shoulder in the first chapter alone?? He'll be pushing, and patting, and shoving, and punching you all over while telling about his breakfast or something.

- Lao is struggling with inferiority complex. Since childhood he was under a tremendous amount of pressure, he has to do things right, to be better, or else he would be mocked or punished. Now he believes that he should be the best, or he would not be taken seriously. He's constantly seeking validation in his peers, causing him to act cocky and over-confident.

- Anger issues, usually when someone questions his skill.

- People call him lazy because he tries to act like everything comes naturally to him. In reality he trains hard and takes things seriously. Like, he's fighting with a RAZOR RIMMED HAT fgs, it's not something you can master in a day! Also he always got energy running through his veins, lucky bastard... *cries in iron deficiency*

- He makes his hats by himself. With his hands. He designs and creates. ALL of them. I will die on that hill.

- He's a slow to trust, but ride or die as a friend.

- He's a trouble maker FOR SURE, but not a bully. He's respectful and polite to most of the people (if they don't provoke him), also drinks his respect-women juice.

- Master of sass and sarcasm. And yes, I think he swears, but in the right circumstances or the right company.

- He's got rizz NOW, but in his teens he had zero game because he could not keep his mouth shut and would scare off the person with the most ridiculous piece of idiocy.

- I read it in one fic and really loved the idea that Liu Kang "told the blossoms" about Kung Lao, and they really liked him 🌸 so now they are following him around and bringing him news and gossips, that's why there's always those goddamn petals aroung him aasghGHHHj 🌸🌸

- He's rolling his eyes at Johnny, but they quickly become besties.

- He actually has a cold relationship with Liu Kang. Don't get me wrong, he trusts him, respects the hell out of him and will run into a wall for a man. But I think Liu will distance himself because of all the memories of HIS Lao and how badly they sting. oTL

- That smile and a bow Lao did after loosing to Raiden? He meant that. Loosing hurted BAD, but the pain was pushed aside by the sence of pride and happiness for his best friend.

oh shit, this is getting out of hand, I'm starting to think about the other timelines and dynamics, we'll be here all week hhhhgh

About the popular ships... Well, I'm a big fan of railao (yeah NO SHIT who would have thought), but I am a multishipper, so I'm just happy to see my fav characters feeling good in someone's hands. 😊

I really like the liulao and laoliutana for several different reasons. 👀 The johnshilao (or is it laojohnshi..? erm) was the one that didn't impress me at first (love the Lao just third-wheeling with a tired expression <:'D), but recently I'm starting to warm up to all the different dynamics these three can have. And that is, in no small part, thanks to you and your kenlao agenda 👀💖 damn you created such a nice cozy universe for them I'm 🥺💕💗💖

Bi-Han/Lao is a bit random, but I love how catto did them, they are such a cute pair of assholes! >:3

ummm, yeah, so I'm going to stop there ahahhH. Thank you again for asking and for all the nice little feels your art provides, I admire you tremendously~

#my asks #my art #kung lao #mortal kombat #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 #helsensm art

219 notes · View notes

lionlena · 10 months

Text

Unforgivable mistake (JoelMillerxreader) Part 6

Summary: Reader is much younger than Joel and is in love with him. One night, after arguing with Tess and getting drunk, Joel spends the night with a reader, but in the morning he breaks her heart… She runs away from Boston hoping that she will never meet this cold bastard again in her life. But almost six years later, she unexpectedly sees Joel in Jackson. She decides to hide herself and her little secret from this asshole.

Warnings: age gap (reader is about 28 years, Joel 58), strong language, swearing, past trauma, bullying, attempted rape, memories of sexual abuse, unprotect p in v, dom!Joel, Joel is asshole, ANGST, hurt, sadness and heartbreaking, sexual harassment, women abuse, violence, injury, sickness.

Part 6

"Mommy, you should kiss Joel."

You nearly dropped the laundry you were hanging outside when you heard what your toddler said. You looked at your son in shock.

"Where did that idea come from, honey?"

Teddy sighed and said, "Because Joel is sad and you always give me a kiss when I'm sad and that helps."

"Oh" was all you could say.

Joel had actually been sadder for the past few days. He was even more reticent and didn't even react to Ellie's taunts. You didn't know if it was because of your talk about forgiveness or the fact that Maria and Tommy were expecting a baby. Well, You thought that was good news, but did Joel was jealous? He had Teddy, after all. He got a second chance.

"Mommy."

You heard your son's impatient voice and realized that "Oh" wasn't considered a sufficient answer. You knelt down next to him and said, "I'm afraid it doesn't work on adults as it does on children. I think Joel might feel weird if I kissed him."

Teddy frowned. "Then hug him... You hugging Aunt Claudia when she's sad."

"You hugging him, and that's better than my hug."

Your son made a sad face, and you felt like you let him down. In his childhood mind, sometimes everything was so simple and you envied him that.

"You know what helps me when I'm sad?" The little boy looked at you curiously. "When you give me drawings and flowers. Maybe after I finish work at the stables, we can go to the meadow so you can pick flowers for Joel?"

"Okay, but if that doesn't help, promise me you'll hug him."

You sighed heavily and nodded your head.

At the stables, you were still thinking about what Teddy said. Maybe you should talk to Joel? He didn't really have anyone in Jackson except Tommy, Ellie, and Teddy... And you. He still had a strained relationship with his brother, and the children were hardly suitable for serious conversations. So everything was on you. And your two relationship has improved. When you saw him, you didn't just think about how badly he hurt you, but how he changed for the better.

You stopped brushing Jupiter for a moment and looked back to see your son, who was throwing straw into an empty stall. In fact, he lost most of the straw along the way, but he looked so cute. He wanted to help you, like his dad.

You were so lost in thought that you didn't notice that you were approaching to place where another horse had bitten Jupiter. The wound still hurt him, and though he was a nice horse, he reacted to pain like any other animal. He whinnied loudly and jumped up sharply. You managed to dodge the kick, but you staggered and stumbled. You hit your head on the post that was between the horse's boxes. It got dark before your eyes and the last thing you remember was your son's frightened scream.

Teddy knew he had to call for help. He ran out of the stable and began to run as fast as his little legs would allow him. However, he passed several people and did not stop. Even when someone tried to stop him. In his mind, only one person could save you.

"Joel!" he shouted as he saw a familiar figure.

Joel was just walking with Ellie to the dining room when he heard his son scream. He immediately turned around and knelt down to catch the kid who practically ran into him. He immediately noticed that the little boy was terrified.

"Teddy, what happened?"

He gently grabbed his shoulders and started looking for any injuries, but the baby boy seemed to be fine. Teddy struggled to catch his breath, tears streaming down his face.

"Mama," he finally choked out.

Joel was immediately overwhelmed by a wave of terror.

"What about mom?" He asked.

The boy barely spoke. "Ho… Horse... Kick" he said between sobs.

Joel didn't need any more. He looked at Ellie, who seemed as scared as Teddy.

"Stay with him. I'm running to her."

The girl nodded and grabbed the boy's hand as Joel ran to the stables.

When you woke up you felt a terrible headache. Your ears were ringing and your vision was blurred, but only one thing mattered to you. Your son.

"Teddy," you croaked.

You got up with difficulty. You felt like a newborn foal that couldn't catch its balance. You slowly took a step by step, sticking to the wall. As you were about to leave, Joel suddenly ran up to you. He grabbed your sides and held you tight.

"Y/N, what happened?"

You heard the worry in his voice.

"Jupiter got angry... I jumped back, but I think I hit my head on something hard... Where's Teddy?"

Joel stroked your cheek, then ran his hand over the back of your head and was relieved to see that there was no blood on his fingers.

"Teddy is with Ellie. He's fine. He's just scared."

As soon as you heard that, you felt your strength leave you. You stayed on your feet only because fear for your son was your motivation. Joel immediately lifted you up and said, "Okay. You need medical attention."

"No" you moaned and rested your head against his chest. "Just not Anderson."

Joel sighed. "Then what am I supposed to do?"

"Take me home and call Wanda. She used to be a nurse."

"Okay," he whispered and brushed his lips against your forehead, and you just closed your eyes.

An hour later you were in bed and listening to Wanda's instructions. Teddy was cuddling up to your side. He had stopped crying but was still very scared. Ellie was sitting on the edge of the bed looking at you with worried eyes. Joel stood next to Wanda and carefully listened to her.

"It's definitely a concussion. She should not move. Let her sleep a lot, rest, and drink plenty of water. Someone should stay with her overnight. If she starts vomiting, she may choke."

"I'm not going to vomit," you muttered. You were slightly annoyed that the woman was talking like you weren't in the room.

Joel just gave you an indulgent look and replied, "I'll keep an eye on her.”

When Wanda left, he came closer to you and stroked his son's head.

"Hey, 'bear cub', mum will be fine. Why don't you and Ellie go to the meadow and collect flowers for mommy?"

Teddy looked at you with those puppy eyes he inherited from his father.

"Will this help you, mommy?"

You nodded your head and he immediately jumped off the bed and grabbed Ellie's hand pulling her towards the exit. Joel was still staring at you.

"What?" you asked.

He bit his lip and muttered, "I was worried about you, I'm still worried about you... I don't know what I would do if something happened to you..."

You were surprised by his confession. You might even hug him if it weren't for the constant dizziness.

"I'll be fine and you don't have to do all this for me."

Joel stepped closer, knelt by the bed, and grabbed your hand.

"I'll take care of you and Teddy. I'll do whatever it takes to make you feel better."

You smiled slightly and nodded your head.

In the evening you were really surprised how well Joel handled the baby. You thought your boy would be very cranky after a day like this... And he was, but Joel made it. After he put his son to bed, he came back to you and sat in the armchair to watch you all night.

It was weird and embarrassing for you at first. You thought you wouldn't be able to fall asleep next to him, but his presence began to soothe you and you fell asleep.

Joel stretched out in an armchair and tilted his head back. He yawned and closed his eyes. He thought that nothing would happen if he took a nap for a while. Your sleep seemed restful. Before he could fall asleep he heard the patter of small feet and after a while, he felt Teddy climb into his lap. He opened his eyes and smiled softly.

"Hi, 'bear cub'."

The baby boy glanced towards the bed: "Mummy still sleeping?"

Joel combed the boy's curls. "It's night. She should sleep. Just like you."

The little one shook his head and looked at him, and despite the dim light, Joel could see traces of tears on the baby's cheeks.

"You were crying, baby. What happened?"

He pulled the boy to his chest and hugged him tightly.

"Will mommy die?"

Joel replied immediately. "No, 'bear cub'. Of course not. She'll be fine. That's why I'm here to make sure everything is okay."

Teddy nodded and murmured, "Tell me a story."

Joel frowned. "We have to go get the book."

"No," the little one moaned. "Your story."

"Oh. All right." He thought for a moment. "I'll tell you about the Boston Angel."

"That angel was pretty?"

Joel smiled and nodded. "It was basically she, and she was the most beautiful angel I've ever seen. She was also sweet and kind. Even though Boston wasn't a pretty place, she was always able to find something beautiful and show it to the children. She bent down to tie a little girl's shoes and gave food to the homeless dog, and she always smiled."

"And did she bake cookies like Mommy?"

"Yes. She was the perfect Angel, but she met the bad man." Joel sighed heavily. He didn't know why he made up this story about you two. He felt the little boy tugging at his shirt.

"And what did the bad man do?"

"He broke the angel's wings and made the angel sad."

"But why did he do it?"

"Because he forgot how to love and only remembered that losing someone you love hurts a lot. So instead of loving an angel, he preferred to hurt her." He stroked Teddy's curls. "But the angel managed to escape Boston, and then her wings grew back and became even more beautiful and stronger. So strong that they could carry her wherever she wanted."

Teddy yawned and asked, "And the bad man? Has he changed?"

Joel didn't know what to say. He hadn't expected such a question. He swallowed and replied, "He's tried hard to change and... I hope one day he'll be good and the Angel will see it."

You felt tears running down your cheeks. You woke up as soon as you heard your son's voice, but you were still tired and did not react. You knew Joel would take care of the boy. So you heard the whole story about Angel and you couldn't believe it. Joel thought you were asleep, so he didn't say all that just to win your favor.

There was silence and you guessed that Teddy had fallen asleep. You went back to sleep too.

Joel slowly got to his feet, holding gently the sleeping boy, but something was bothering him. The baby's body was too warm. He kissed the boy's forehead and wondered if you had a thermometer somewhere in the house. He gently placed the baby on the bed and carefully covered him with a blanket. He didn't even get out of the room before he heard a plaintive whine, "Joo."

He quickly returned to the baby and began to calm him down. "Shhh, I'll be right back."

The little one stretched out his arms towards him with another pitiful moan and began to cry. Joel sighed and took the boy in his arms, wrapping him in a blanket.

"It's okay 'bear cub'. Do you know where mom keeps the thermometer and medicine?"

The little one sobbed and pressed his face against dads shoulder, muttering, "Not sick."

Joel rolled his eyes. He realized that he had to fend for himself. And so he held the baby with one hand and searched the kitchen cupboards with the other. He found a thermometer, bandages, a hot water bottle, and medicines that he knew were not for children. He took the boy back to the room and took his temperature. He had a fever.

"Teddy, does your tummy hurt?"

"No," the boy moaned.

"And here?" he asked and touched the boy's chest.

"Only the head."

Joel frowned. He stroked the boy's back and said, "Stay here a minute. I'll check on mommy."

"NO!"

Teddy started crying and Joel panicked. He didn't want you to wake up. He quickly lifted his son and began to gently rock him in his arms and place kisses on his wet, hot cheeks.

"Shhh, shhh, 'bear cub', it's okay. We'll go to mom together, but you have to promise me you'll be quiet. Okay?"

The little one whined and nodded his head. Joel breathed a sigh of relief, though he knew he had a rough night ahead of him.

He carefully looked at you and was relieved to see that you were still asleep. By this time, the boy had already fallen asleep and Joel was able to put him to bed.

And so for the next hour, Joel wandered between your room and Teddy's room. Unfortunately, the boy woke up again and started crying.

"I want water," he sobbed.

"I'll bring you."

"Do not go!"

Joel sighed heavily and took the boy in his arms. The boy immediately clung to his body tightly. "We will go together."

Unfortunately, the boy was very moody. When he saw the blue cup of water, he wailed loudly and Joel started to panic. He didn't know what had happened and tried to calm him down.

"It's okay... Shhh, tell me what happened? Teddy, baby, 'bear cub'..."

And as if he didn't have enough problems, You walked into the kitchen. You heard your son cry and your maternal instinct was stronger than your dizziness. You staggered into the doorway and grabbed the doorframe with difficulty.

"Y/N" Joel gasped and immediately started walking towards you.

He wrapped his free arm tightly around your waist while the other still held Teddy, who was crying in his ear. Joel led you to a chair and carefully sat you down. He started rocking your son and you looked at the blue mug on the table and said, "He doesn't like that color. You have to give him a red one."

Joel breathed a sigh of relief and quickly grabbed the red cup. Teddy finally calmed down, drank some water, and fell asleep in dad's arms, but his behavior made you uneasy. You knew that such trivial things as the color of the mug only made him cry when he was ill.

"Joel, does he have a fever?"

The man reluctantly nodded. He didn't want to worry you, but he couldn't lie to you.

"He has a fever and a headache, but otherwise he's fine. He doesn't cough, he doesn't have a runny nose. I've been looking for some medicine for him, but I haven't found anything."

You sighed heavily. "They're over. I was going to go to Anderson's, but... You know."

"I know. If he's not better by morning, I'll go with him to that asshole."

You looked at him scared. "No... I can't do it."

He came closer to you. "Hey, I said I'll go. You will stay. Everything will be fine. I'll take care of everything and now I'll put the little one to bed and come back for you."

"Put him in my bed. I want him close and try to put cold compresses on him to bring down the fever."

Joel nodded and did as you said. He put Teddy in your bed and then came back for you. He wrapped his arms around you to take all your weight. Once you were in bed, he returned to the kitchen and fetched a bowl of cold water and a small kitchen towel. You watched as he knelt by the bed and gently touched Teddy's forehead.

"You have to change the water in a while."

"I know," he said and smiled slightly at you. "Don't worry. I'll be here all the time."

You sighed and closed your eyes. You carefully cuddled up to your little one and hoped that the baby boy would recover by the morning.

Unfortunately, Teddy still had a fever in the morning, like you, he didn't like the idea of visiting Anderson. He cuddled up to you and looked at Joel like he were a traitor. The man reached out to him, but the toddler consistently ignored him.

"Come on, 'bear cub', everything will be fine."

Ellie, who had already come to you, also tried to help. "Teddy, the doctor will just examine you. I and Joel will be with you."

You knew you had to intervene. You gently pushed him away from you and kissed his nose. "Honey, you know Joel will always protect you. Go with them. Mommy needs to stay in bed."

The little boy finally nodded and let Joel take him in his arms.

"Bunny" he sadly whined.

Joel kissed him on the head. "We're going to get your bunny."

After they left, you looked at the teenage girl. "Ellie, make sure he doesn't do something stupid. And I'm not talking about Teddy.”

The girl shrugged. "Okay, but I'm not promising anything."

You fell back on the pillows and closed your eyes. Your head was still spinning and you knew you had to rely on Joel.

The atmosphere in Anderson's office was so thick that could have cut it with a knife. The two men stared at each other with pure hatred. Eventually, Ellie intervened. She grunted loudly and muttered, "I don't know about you, but I don't want to spend all day here."

The doctor snorted. "Put him on the table. I'll listen to his lungs."

Teddy immediately moaned plaintively as he was separated from his dad's body. Joel looked at him sympathetically. He kissed his forehead and whispered, "It will only take a moment."

Teddy hugged the stuffed bunny tightly to him. Anderson looked at the little boy irritably and hissed, "Should I examine him or the stuffed animal?"

Joel clenched his jaw. He felt his head start to ache. He'd had a really rough night and was losing his patience with this prick. He carefully took the toy out of his son's hands and tenderly said, "Ellie will take care of your bunny for a while."

Tears welled up in Teddy's eyes, but he nodded and watched as Ellie gently hugged his toy. Meanwhile, Anderson, without any warning, pulled the boy's T-shirt up and held the cold stethoscope to the child's body. Teddy squeaked and jumped. Only Joel's quick reaction saved him from falling off the table.

"What are you doing?" he growled.

Anderson shrugged. "It's not my fault he's as weak as his mother."

And that was enough. Joel handed the boy into Ellie's arms and gently pushed her towards the door. "Wait with him in the corridor."

Ellie nodded her head. She herself was furious with this asshole.

As she disappeared through the door, Anderson hissed, "What, are you going to break my nose again?"

Joel smiled in a way that made Anderson uneasy and he took a step back. Joel pulled a knife from his belt and lunged for the doctor. He pushed him into the chair and with one hand squeezed his throat so that the man couldn't scream.

"No, I'll do something much worse to you," he growled from the back of his throat. "Now listen to me carefully. You will treat my son as your most valuable patient."

Anderson's eyes widened in shock. "Teddy, this is your..."

Joel laughed. "Yeah, and you'd better think it over." He slid the knife into the doctor's crotch. "You have body parts that are not needed. Without them, you'll still be useful."

Anderson swallowed and nodded. "I will be gentle..." he squeaked.

Joel nodded. "All right."

He opened the door and took the boy in his arms. He smiled and kissed him on the head. "Come 'bear cub', Mr. Anderson will be very nice now and apologize to you for hurting you."

He looked at the doctor suggestively, and the man nodded. "I'm sorry Teddy." He started heating the stethoscope and said, "He can stay in your arms while I examine him."

The rest of the examination went smoothly and Anderson was kind and gentle. When he had finished, he said, "Everything seems fine. Did something stress him out?"

Joel frowned. He wasn't sure if Anderson didn't know about your accident or if he was pretending. "Yes. He had a lot of stress yesterday."

The doctor nodded. "This fever, it could be a stress reaction or a mild cold. I'll give you pills, for him. Give him half now, half tonight, and half tomorrow morning. The fever should go down."

When they got home, Joel told you how the doctor's visit went. Of course, he skipped the part about the knife threat but you guessed something had happened when your son said, "Mr. Anderson was a bit rude, but then Ellie and I left and when we came back, he was already nice."

You looked suggestively at Joel, and he tried to avoid your gaze at all costs. Then you shot a disappointed look at Ellie. "You were supposed to keep an eye on him."

Ellie shrugged. "This as..." Joel grunted significantly. "This fool, he deserved it."

You shook your head and hugged your son as he began to fall asleep. You didn't really care what Joel did. All that mattered was that he got Teddy's medicine.

After three days, you finally felt fine. You weren't dizzy anymore and you didn't lose your balance. Your son's fever has also stopped. It was evening when you got up and decided to eat something. There was an unusual silence in the house. It was still early, but Teddy was already asleep, tired from the impressions of the last few days. But where was Joel? He took care of you all the time and you were impressed with how well he handled everything.

You walked into the living room and saw him sleeping on your couch. He looked so peaceful and you didn't have the heart to be mad at him for falling asleep in your house. You guessed he was dead tired after two nights of watching over you and Teddy. Plus, you knew your sweet little son turned into a little monster when he was sick. One minute he wanted juice, the next he was spitting it out and crying that he didn't want juice. And maybe he got it from you. Well, maybe, just maybe, you had Joel bring you a glass of cold water, and after five minutes you decided it was too cold and asked him for hot tea. And he, without whining, without a grimace on his face, obediently went to the kitchen. So yes, he had a right to be tired. You grabbed a blanket from the armchair and gently covered him. Then you crouched down at his face and felt that old sentiment. Joel's hair always looked as soft and fluffy, as your son's. Made to be combed with your fingers. And before you could stop yourself, your fingers had already sunk into his gray curls.

Joel blinked his eyes and you quickly pulled your hand away. He looked at you and started to move, but he was very clumsy.

"Sorry... I'll be up in a minute," he mumbled.

You shook your head, put your hand on his shoulder, and said, "You deserve to rest, sleep."

You saw how tired he was and that he was still half asleep, so when he spoke you weren't sure if he was aware of it.

"I wish I could have looked after you while you were pregnant."

You sighed heavily and understood. That's why he was sad. He wasn't jealous at all that Maria was pregnant. He was sorry because it reminded him of what he had lost and made him feel guilty.

"You're taking care of us now. That's enough," you whispered.

You ran your hand through his hair again and he closed his eyes and purred like a cat. A slight smile appeared on his face, and you thought maybe your son was right. Your touch really made Joel stop being sad.

A/N: Okay, so yeah, I messed up the timelines about Maria's pregnancy. I just forgot to mention it before, and it suited me perfectly here. Doctor Google told me that children can have fevers because of stress.

Part V

Part VII

Taglist: @ajeff855, @anislabonis-love, @o-sacra-virgo-laudes-tibi, @i-workwithpens, @milla-frenchy, @quality-lust @liatome @sarahhxx03 @creedslove @jojo-munson @pascalislove @sofiparallel @goldenhxurs @elliaze @aestheticangel612 @cheyxfu @orcasoul @misshoneypaper @prestinalove @yourusername1 @stevengmybeloved

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller and you #joel and ellie #ellie williams #joel is daddy #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #angst #hurt/comfort #little fluff #unforgivable mistake

317 notes · View notes

ohnogodpls · 7 months

Note

The way you draw neuvillette and Wriothesley has me giggling and kicking my feet, they’re such little guys they make my soul start doing ribbon dances.

I do also have a question, 👀, you mentioned you mainly draw neuvi from head cannons, are there any you don’t draw but enjoy a lot just in your mind?

Hola :3 thank you for the kind words and I am happy to see you like my little guys doing their little guys things

I let this sit for some days to think about headcanons, since I can't think of many. I mostly just get scenarios into my head at like 1am, write them down and doodle them in the evening as a relaxation so it's not like a very thought through thing. But I managed to write down some.

Appearance wise:

First of all, I sort of completely disregard canon details. It's not because I don't like them, but because I draw quick, have no patience, and after drawing a character onec or twice I get their general idea into my head and from there on only draw them from memory. I find it helpful since it is not only quick and comfortable, but allows my sketchy drawings to avoid overcluttering with details. As long as the general shape and colour palette are close to the original - I am happy. Second, I like the idea of some draconic features on Neuv. Sharp teeth, longer sharper tongue, eye pupil delation when he is happy or excited to see something (same for zhongli) and I think it would be cute if his horns would glow when he is pleased, happy or at peace. That's why if you sleep next to him and can't fall asleep because of the light - shh don't wake him up - he is having a sweet dream. Third: he likes to dress up. I need to think of some outfits I could draw him in. In game he often points out that he stands out and causes confusion when he walks around, his status and looks intimidate people into thinking he is there on official business by default. That's why I think over the centuries he acquired an interest in fashion and has a lot of outfits he puts on for more casual outings in that little free time he has.

Personality wise I can't say much. I am like always scared of going too ooc, because I genuinely love the way he is presented in canon, so all I do is more of an addition to it rather than substitute... But I think he would like plants. He would feed them the finest water and enjoy watching them bloom. Plus, Sumeru is right there so perhaps he finds himself fascinated by plants growing there and has a few saplings.

And on a slightly NSFW note: wriolette in my head are switches. I always tag it with wriolette only but I also never draw explicit stuff, but I think they love each other in ways where there is no dynamic of one overpowering another: they tend to each other's comfort and pleasure and happiness in equal matter.

Yeah I don't have much but hopefully this was a nice (slightly long) read. o7 thank you for the question, it was fun to think about

#ramble

168 notes · View notes

kissingghouls · 8 months

Text

If You Remember This Tomorrow

Phantom Ghoul x GN! Reader - Fluff, Tipsy Kissing, 1700 words

Heard a song, had an idea, wrote some fluff. I don't even know. Thank you to @ramblingoak because you're always so dang supportive. 💜

fic list // ao3 // Little Ghost (pt2) // A Late Night Call (pt3)

The room is loud, almost unbearably so. There are bodies everywhere, some paired off and some not, but all of them are illuminated by lights that flash in a wonderful rainbow of pretty colors. The dancefloor is full, and you feel as though you’re floating after that last drink that tasted more like red than anything else.

A smile spreads over your face as Swiss sways a little too excitedly and stumbles over his dance partner. None of this is new, not even the multi-ghoul falling over his own feet. He barks out a hearty laugh from his new spot on the floor, his whole body shaking. Somehow, he manages to get back to his feet without spilling a drop of his drink. It’s an impressive feat that earns him a kiss on the cheek as a prize before the pair spins off together to get better acquainted.

The success of the Ghost project meant that a good portion of the Ministry was on tour more often than not anymore. While the Ministry parties had always been wild, the more recent homecoming celebrations left most of the congregation with little to no memory of the night before.

A thick fog rolls over the floor, that sickly sweet smell of chemical syrup pumped out from the machines filling the air. Phantom materializes in it, a vapor turned solid shape that now blocks your path. You bounce off him, unsteady and unable to correct your course in your current state. He grabs your elbow, keeping you upright and off the ground with a soft smile. His teeth have a red tint to them, much like your own, but it’s too bright and too loud to make out what he’s saying.

He leans in to repeat himself, his grip a little tighter on your arm. He smells like strawberries and some kind of alcohol. But under the top notes of what you guessed was the last drink he had was the soft smell of a cologne so nice you wanted to bury your face in it.

You hadn’t spent a lot of time with the newly summoned ghoul—time was a luxury neither one of you had. But the pull had been there from the beginning, ever since he clawed his way out of the Pit and locked eyes with you. It’s a dance, one with several complicated steps and neither one of you had felt compelled to lead.

He says something else, words that taste like fruit punch and candy. You grin lazily and pat his shoulder, allowing yourself the first intended contact from you to him. His breath hitches, grip tightening once more. He’s so close now you can feel the heat of his skin through his clothes. A uniform you dare to imagine, for a split-second, rumpled in a pile on your floor.

It’s clumsy at first and your teeth clash together more than your lips, but the two of you are in such a stupor that you don’t stop. His hand moves to your back, pressing you close as he adjusts and kisses you properly. Behind you someone whistles—most likely Dew or Cumulus—but it doesn’t distract the ghoul from the task. He brings a hand to the side of your face, fingers splayed over your cheek and neck as he pulls the breath from your lungs.

You grab handfuls of his collar and break away, keeping your forehead pressured to his as you struggle for air. Kissing him is like drowning and you want nothing more than to be underwater again.

“‘M sorry,” he mumbles against your lips. He draws a line over your cheekbone with the pad of his thumb and moves in again.

The next kiss is dizzying, knees buckling under the pressure and the flick of his tongue. He keeps you upright with a firm hand on your back and the one on your face slides into your hair. He tugs lightly, a smile hidden between you as you let out the tiniest moan.

Someone clears their throat nearby and the pair of you split apart like you’ve been caught behind the bleachers at a school dance. Papa offers Phantom an almost fatherly smile and pats him on the shoulder. He suggests the two of you get some air to avoid the cluster of ghouls watching nearby. Phantom is flustered, a pink tinge highlighting his cheeks as he stares back at his captive audience. Mountain and Rain each give him a thumbs up paired with toothy grins.

Your own cheeks heat up as you realize at some point you had been the topic of discussion between the ghouls. Some lonely night had passed between them on the road, maybe on the bus or in some dingy greenroom, and you were the reason he asked for advice from the others. The revelation makes you feel too warm in your clothes, a blush now spreading over your entire body.

You press your face against his shoulder, hiding a shy smile. He slides his hand down your arm, fingers brushing as the lace with yours. He asks if you would like to go with him and yes is the only word you know for a moment.

You don’t miss the smile on his face when the two of you start moving toward the exit, hand in hand.

“Wait!”

Sunshine, ever the perpetual dealer of chaos, approaches carrying two large cups filled with that same red drink that now tastes like Phantom’s kiss. She drops a wink in your direction that is the opposite of subtle and tells you both to have fun before sending you away.

Outside the night is unseasonably cool, a rare break from the heat of summer and the abbey’s sweltering ballroom. You both close your eyes, enjoying the gentle breeze that blows over the grounds. It’s quiet as the wind stills. No one else has made their way out from the party yet. In a few hours the lawn will be filled with your friends and his, but for now it’s just you and Phantom and maybe a curious spirit or two.

You sip carefully from your cups as you walk, the red dye staining your lips and teeth. It doesn’t matter to either of you anymore.

Phantom trips over a gnarled tree root, his drink spilling sticky red liquid over his fingers as he drops to the ground. You can’t help but laugh, the alcohol in your system doing you no favors. He pouts beneath you and wipes his wet hand across your thigh, smearing juice and dirt into your clothes. As you move to help him up, you catch the same root with your own feet and land in the grass next to him in a fit of giggles.

“You ok?” he asks through his own laughter, smiling wide when you nod. He settles on the lawn propped up on an elbow as he watches you.

The minutes pass, the pair of you splitting the remainder of your drink as you sit together in the grass. It’s a clear, beautiful night—a lot like the night he was summoned and pulled from the ground by Papa himself. You smile at the thought, the memory now a tiny movie in your head.

“I think I’m stuck,” he tells you and sinks into the ground a little more.

You shuffle closer, the space between you reduced to maybe half an inch. He drapes an arm over your waist, closing the gap even more with a soft sigh.

“You’re nice to look at,” he admits happily, a small hiccup breaking the sentence.

“Am I?”

“Mmhmm. There’s a word for it up here—I can’t remember it now, but in the Pit we’d say,” he pauses for a moment and brings his mouth to your ear before making a noise that sounds like a dryer full of gravel. “There’s not a word for word translation, but it’s close.”

You do your best to imitate the noise, giggling at his surprised face.

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” he teases, clutching a hand to his chest in fake shock.

You laugh harder at his stupid joke than you mean to, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“No,” you finally manage as you dare to reach for his waist. “Kissed you with it, though.”

“Oh, yeah,” he says thoughtfully. “We should do that again.”

“We could. Or you can tell me more about how I’m nice to look at.”

He buries his face in the space between your neck and shoulder with a tiny whine. “Words are hard, ok?”

“So you’re not going to kiss—mmph!”

He catches your lips in another slow, passionate kiss that leaves you lightheaded. Your legs tangle as he pins you against the soft ground and you can’t think of anywhere you’d rather be. He tastes like heaven or maybe hell, syrupy sweet from whatever the ghouls had put in those cups.

He sounds smug as he mumbles something about being right to want to kiss you again, not quite pulling away enough to be fully understood. It doesn’t matter because you’re both smiling, completely drunk on fruit punch and each other.

Minutes become hours, but Phantom keeps you warm through the night. You talk about everything as you slowly sober up. He tells you about his time on the road, stories about mischief and misbehaved ghouls and the thousands of happy faces that he’s seen. You explain what he missed while he was away, like the time the hell hound puppies escaped their crates and dug up part of Primo’s garden and the day Cowbell fell into the fountain.

The two of you rest against a tree—the same one with the root that had taken you both down. In the comfortable quiet you fall asleep on his shoulder, his arm draped around you to keep you close. When his eyes begin to feel too heavy, he presses a kiss into your hair and rests his head on yours.

It won’t be long before your friends find you and tease you while you all nurse hangovers and swear never to drink that much again. There will be stories about what you missed and who came searching for you, who fell in the pool and who taught Papa the latest dance. You’ll listen to all of it while Phantom holds your hand and you will know you were right where you were supposed to be.

#my fics #my writing #phantom ghoul x reader #phantom ghoul x gn reader #the band ghost fanfiction #the band ghost fic #ghost band fanfic #nameless ghouls x reader #nameless ghouls fanfic

287 notes · View notes

imaginesbymonika · 1 year

Text

“Shame” (Part 4)

A Pedro Pascal x fem!Reader fan fiction / someone else joins the story...

Plot: For the last four years, Y/N and Pedro have been dating in secret. The fear of rejection has turned them into a mystery that could only be encountered in yearning looks on red carpets or hands that are touching one another briefly. However, for the longest time, things have been working out that way just fine. But now Pedro's agency wants him to have a PR relationship with another woman and neither Y/N nor Pedro is sure if their love is going to survive that.

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety, feelings of cheating, grief and eating disorders

Masterlist

She stares at Pedro from across the crowded room. That's where the two of them are, relationship-wise. She gazes at him like he is a tempting stranger in a bookshop. Melissa's hands are drawing circles on Y/N's boyfriend's back while she whispers something into his ear. A sigh leaves her lips, it feels strange to call him that. Even though it was true, he used to be Y/N's boyfriend… no, he still is her boyfriend, right?

"You're not seriously asking me that!" Y/N had no idea, what facial expressions Pedro was doing because her eyes were concentrating on the floor. On the black and white tiles, where there was a minuscule crack in one of the black ones right beneath her chair. Has it always been there? Like some bizarre fucked up foreshadowing, just waiting patiently to be discovered.

"Are you even listening to me?" All she has ever done was listen to him. She nodded her head. "Y/N. Please.", she hears how he moves closer and after a few seconds, he kneeled down in front of her:" Look at me, darling." She really didn't want to, because she understood very well that the moment she did she could no longer conceal her feelings. "I love you, okay? Nothing has changed."

And when she ultimately raises her head, she noticed it in his eyes. The first time she saw that emotion was when she first met his siblings. Pedro's oldest sister made this desert and he declared that he really loved it. That he would need her recipe and that he couldn't wait to eat it again someday. Late on, he told Y/n that he lied. Simply because he didn't want to hurt his sister's feelings.

Pedro didn't want to hurt Y/N's feelings. And she let him.

Y/N swallows thickly before she turns her whole body back around. "Is everything alright?", a voice asks from behind her and she figures that it has to be one of her co-stars. "Y-Yeah, I'm fine.", the y/h/ced woman responds, without looking at them:" I just thought that I saw someone that I know, but turns out I was wrong."

The man chuckles:" Happens to me all the time. Not only do I have a really bad memory, but my eyesight is super crappy. Which is just a poor blend of important things." Y/N wrinkles her forehead and turns around. Only to be met by two very kind-looking eyes. "Oh my- I am so sorry.", she hides her face behind her hands for a moment, before looking back at him:" I thought, that you were one of my friends. That's so rude of me." Y/N immediately holds out her hand for him to shake:" I'm Y/N." "Yeah, I know.", he states, and when he touches her a shiver runs down her back:" I'm Matthew Gray Gubler. It's nice to meet you."

And that's when she senses it. For the first time in a long, long time. Y/N doesn't have to turn around to know that Pedro's eyes are lingering on her form. Something about this situation makes her feel like a criminal, but truthfully, she couldn't care less.

"So, are you nominated tonight?", Matthew asks, and takes a sip of his wine. His eager gaze is not once leaving hers. She shakes her head:" Oh, no. But the show is." "Barry, right?", a laugh escapes his lips:" I'm sorry. Of course, that's the show. I'm sitting here, pretending I'm not a huge fan of it and- of course, you." Y/N bites in the inside of her cheeks, while she notices how his eyes move down her face. She clears her throat and he echoes it.

"Anyway.", he says and crosses his legs, while the lights in the room dim:" It was nice talking to you, Y/N. Good luck." She nods:" Yeah, it was. Thanks." Matthew only tears his eyes off her once the room goes completely dark, and there is this sensation in the pit of her stomach that feels so unbelievably sinful and good at the same time. God, she's in big trouble.

#pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal angst #angst #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal fic #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro x reader #pedro angst #x reader #pedro x you #pedro pascal x you

380 notes · View notes

saey707 · 4 months

Note

I am BEGGING for more Yandere heartsteel Yone!! What do you think he would act like if during his carreer he found himself falling in love with someone or even dating them?

I feel like the fans would know nothing about the fact that he has a partner he loves very… very much. Imo he would want to keep them out of the spotlight as much as possible to “protect” them (aka nobody can have them other than him) and he has to manipulate his way into making reader into the perfect obedient partner that has eyes only for him.

✿ Prompt: Yone wants to "protect" you ✿

♡ champion focus: yone ♡ tw: yandere-ish, manipulation ♡ Gender-neutral reader

From the beginning of your relationship with Yone, you always felt something was... off about him. Of course, that was a given, especially considering how little everybody knew about him.

Nobody truly knew a thing about Yone, other than the simple facts: He loved cold brew, was a Taurus, was an INFJ, and frequently micromanaged the chaotic life he and his friends lead.

Overall, Yone was a private person, preferring to not manage any socials, let alone be a figure in the spotlight on television Instead, he would occasionally hop onto corporate socials to answer any burning questions the Heartbeats had regarding new projects, songs, or tour dates. He'd stray towards the back and allow his friends to have the front floor. It's how he preferred things to be.

Upon meeting you, Yone never believed he could fall in love with someone as conservative as himself. Someone who preferred to keep the intimate details to oneself and valued a small circle. A person who didn't want to put all their personal information, memories, and photos out for the public to gaze upon.

It seemed fate had a way of drawing the two of you together- Him to you and you to him.

And ensnared within the jaws of Yone's adoration, his obsession, the desperate producer took all measures necessary to root out every fragment of information he could about you. His torment to understand you was extreme. Yone was extreme.

"There's still so much I have yet to discover about you..." "Heh... I could say the same to you."

Secrets Yone always confined and kept to himself effortlessly flowed past his lips when it came to you. Yone was hungry to know all the little things about you that the world didn't know. And the world just may... Never truly know a thing about you either.

Because you were- for the most part- off the grid, it didn't make it hard for Yone to keep you all to himself. In fact, he wanted nothing more than to do just that. Why should the world get to know you as intimately as he did?

"I'm thinking about making an Instagram account..." you voiced aloud, staring at your phone. This immediately caught the attentive ears of Yone. Turning your attention to your boyfriend, you failed to notice how he tensed up, lips forming a tight line. His trepidatious fingers bounced on the rim of his mug.

"Is that so?" he began in a low and quiet tone.

You shrugged, "I mean it could be a nice place to put all of our memories!" Yone chuckled coldly, shrugging his shoulders. And with that, he picked up his mug and made his way over to you.

"Sure, sure, sure... I'm just worried that this will take away the mystery from our love lives." Your brows furrowed in confusion. So the producer continued.

"You know... Putting our business out in the public? Honestly... The last thing I want is for the fans to say something to you. You know how they act when one of us starts dating... Constantly prying for information, wanting to know more..."

He cleared his throat, "...I just don't want to put you under the spotlight, you know- public scrutiny could hurt."

"Yeah, I get it." You responded, forlorn that your lover didn't seem invested in the idea.

Yone wrapped his arms around you from behind the couch, and with a sigh, pressed his lips to your temple. "Ultimately, it's your decision. I'm just worried you'll become overwhelmed with all the attention."

Nodding your head, you pushed your head against his neck. "You might be right about that. I'll think on it a bit longer before deciding."

Still, even with a decision that still had yet to be sorted out, Yone still wasn't pleased with it. He hated that he was out of control. He hated that you were even considering putting yourself out there!

It made him feel like someone could easily take you away from him- Like others would have the ability to uncover all of the secrets that should only be confined between you and him!

So he made the hard decision to lie to you one evening.

"The fans have become quite violent lately." He voiced, looking at an article on his laptop. "They're starting to bump up our security. Or at least, that is the plan I've decided..." Yone sighed. A look of concern crossed your face.

"Why?" You questioned, cautiously walking over.

Yone turned his head to peer towards where you were standing. "There's... A rumor going around. Heartbeats are speculating that I'm dating someone." He informed with a forged sadness on his face, watching your eyes widen in shock.

And how he loved the look of fear in your eyes.

He had you in the palm of his hand, wrapped around his finger. He knew if he scared you just a little bit you'll be at his mercy. Yone knew you'd come around and listen to him.

"I'm sorry..." "Don't be. It's not your fault. I should have done a better job of protecting you."

You shook your head stubbornly. "Stop. You shouldn't be beating yourself up over this, Yone. You do plenty to protect me." You rushed over, wrapping your arms tightly around him. You felt for a second that if you let go, you would lose him. You felt... afraid.

Aimlessly, you were trying to feel a sense of security, one of which Yone would happily provide with his following statements:

"It's best the two of us just lay low for now. Okay?" He smiled, kissing the top of your forehead.

"As long as you listen to me, I'll keep you safe in my arms. Always."

#saeybaewrites #request #scenario #heartsteel #heartsteel yone #yone #heartsteel yone x reader #heartsteel x reader #yone lol #x reader #yone lol x reader #yone league of legends #lol x reader #yone league of legends x reader #league of legends x reader

120 notes · View notes

stinkypeanutbutter · 1 month

Text

img silly sbg art class headcanons for the folks !!!

Guess who’s first .

Ben , obvi . Who did you think ??? Aiden ?? Loser / j

BENNY BOY :

Actually enjoys art class the most out of his other classes

Usually turns things in on time , but forgets the little things though like those stupid papers that tell you to copy and draw a nose 3 times

likes using charcoal pencils !! It’s his favorite out of everything , but he dislikes how messy it gets because the charcoal always covers his hands and arms .

not the best at painting , but he’s well known of his complimentary colors and what looks good with what .

Usually listens to music while he’s drawing if Taylor is busy or gone from class . He likes taking instrumental recommendations from Ashlyn .

Takes a drawing class , obvi , along with Taylor because he didn’t really want to be alone . Plus , She’s a nice buddy to have !!

TAYLOR !! :

Takes a drawing class with Ben as said before !! Whenever they have to pick partners , they go for each other the most .

she’s not the BEST at drawing honestly , but she takes it so she can study in machinery , like drawing and mapping out designs .

She likes using those kids markers , whatever their called . She prefers using the marker FIRST then going over it with pencil to really pop out the design . Digital art also works out for her , it’s one of her favorites because there’s so many options ( sometimes )

uses google for inspo or to copy certain parts down cause Pinterest is blocked on the computers and drawing gears is hard to do ( real 😿 )

Draws little cats on her work when she’s bored or smiley faces on Bens work just cause she’s silly ( trademarked smiley — Aiden / j )

Doesn’t have photography , but she does join Logan after school to help out with certain camera functions or just take photos of eachother for her memory book ( she has one , cannot tell me otherwise )

Also uses highlighters just cause . I mean they’re fun so why not . Her and Aiden share a bunch of random stickers that he got on like eBay for customization 😼

A ;) DEN !!! :

I swear I won’t repeat the same “ Aiden is totally good at art “ headcanon but …….. 😅😅

Went into painting just so he can have fun with the colors and , sigh … he’s good at mixing them . ( he’s not allowed too , but he makes it work out . Sometimes )

RARELY gets things done in time , like he’ll be doing anything other then drawing in class , yet somehow turn it in . Well , after a few weeks past the due date .

becahse of that , no one really knows what he draws but the teacher is impressed so 🤷

I like to imagine he has one other hidden room in his house , filled with unfinished paintings , sketches , projects , puzzles , yadda . He hasn’t really shown anyone where it is , or let’s anyone inside but has let Ben check it out a few times cause he’s special 🫶

Always does his projects in his room . Why ? Cause it’s bigger , more room to work , duh . Also , so he can BLAST music because music just gives him ideas of what he can work on ( projection go hard 🤟🤟🤟 )

he doesn’t really care what he uses , but he hates charcoal , opposed to Ben . It gets everywhere ( in a bad way ) , it’s dull , he hates having to blend it with those stupid paper things because they sound and feel gross , yadda yadda yadda . Butttt he LOVES markers and crayons . Colored pencils work if he’s feeling slightly unmotivated .

uses giant AF canvas’s cause more room to work plus more detail . He loves detailing the most random stuff because it all had to blend correctly , right ? 😼☝️

likes pottery , but he doesn’t like the feeling of it drying on his hands . It’s gross and crusty . Plus he got in trouble once for throwing some of it around the class lol

Totally draws on his arms with sharpie ( ashlyn tells him no cause poisoning or something but pshhhh what does she know ? He’ll still doodle on his pants ) .

Probably does Rubix cube art when he’s feeling extra silly . Also glues and sticks whatever he can find onto what he’s working on for pizazz . But he doesn’t really like anything he’s made so 😿

also the reason why he has so many unfinished projects is because woopsy doo ADHD . It’s always “ oh I should work on this one “ but then there’s “ but this once looks funner to do “ but oh then there’s a “ which one would take me less time to do ? “ and “ if I do this first will I have time to do the other one ? “ and either ends up doing nothing or multitasking .

ASH TRAY !!! :

Takes painting with Aiden because she really didn’t want to go alone .

thought about pottery once , tried it , hated the feeling of it getting under her nails and it kept drying up and she had to wash her hands constantly and it kept getting in her hair and it was a bad experience . ( more projection )

painting really isn’t her favorite , but she likes the look of the colors mixing and it’s kinda like dancing to her , with the long , sometimes constant movements and new variations . Look it just puts her in a slight trance .

doesn’t do well with creativity coming into play , but she managed to find a way with turning art into dance , like referencing other dancers online and copying their moments onto a canvas to make it dramatic or something .

Prefers prismacolor pencils over most things , sometimes joins Taylor and Logan after school to try out photography .

Sometimes she and Aiden would share headphones and put on a shared playlist or a podcast on spotify . They always bicker about it though because ashlyn skips through songs often and Aiden can’t sit on a podcast unless it’s playing somewhere background ( still working on this one cause would that work ? Sharing headphones and listening to stuff or would that be too loud cause I’m not sure )

for once please can she see what Aiden has done like he’s always on his phone or playing with another puzzle from his backpack how do they fit in there anyway just Plsplslpsopls he has a good grade in this class how he’s so confusing sometimes double U - tea - eph

TIE - LER !! :

Joined because he already does baseball why not choose something to maybe help him relax

Bad choice , does not relax him ( most of the time ) , can’t understand color theory ( same ) , ended up getting put into the same class with Aiden ( remember when Aiden threw pottery ? Yeah . . Also ashlyn is there that’s cool but still )

He still likes hanging with Aiden , he just won’t admit it and it gets harder and harder too when he keeps writing and drawing on his work ( and him too 😡😡 )

Pretty fond of water coloring , it’s one of the few things that he enjoys doing in his pass time . . . But he’s not that good at keeping the water to a minimum so it ends up dripping everywhere .

He’s not that good at art either , but he’s pretty good at poses , specifically ones he can remember like the “ batter up ! “ stance in baseball or his signature “ crosses my arms and stares at you begrudgingly “ . He’s REALLY good at that one .

He teaches Ben Guitar , Ben teaches him easier ways to draw . Not a babyish style , but just a simplified way to do something without putting too much thought into it .

he and Taylor team up in art projects , but not in class , at home . Ash and Aiden usually partner up in class , and since he and Taylor have seperate classes there , who’s to say they can’t help eachother else where ? Twin telepathy ! ( I think , idk )

Just finishes quick and turns it in . He gave effort , and that’s good enough . If he really wants to try and ‘ finish ‘ finish it , he will . Trust .

DIALOG(an)UE !! :

Literally the only one in the group who really takes pottery ( he’s lonely someone help him )

dw Barron isnt there . He got kicked out for throwing clay at people ( mostly Logan )

Actually really likes taking pottery , it’s fun !!

He makes pots for the plants back home 💪😋

pretty good at using the utensils , one of the only people the teacher can trust to use them correctly

the pottery wheel isn’t his favorite favorite because sometimes it spins to fast and clay gets splattered everywhere , but it’s better then starting from scratch , and turns out really nice when he gets into the zone or something

made mugs for his grandparents !! ( and the gang , which they all used theirs for many different things . They love it )

not that good at coming up with particular designs , so he usually asks for help . Doesn’t matter who , he’s open to everyone’s ideas 😋☝️☝️

takes a littttllleee while to turn things in on time but he’s a good student so the teacher doesn’t mind

IM DONE !!! I DID IT !!! Praise me .

WHAT SHOULD I DO NEXT ?? HIT THAT LIKE AND SURBSCRIBE BUTTON

57 notes · View notes

layla4567 · 9 months

Text

I'm just a librarian ✿

Steven Grant/Marc Spector x Fem!Reader

Summary: You work in a library in the middle of London, you get paid well and you love your little reading space surrounded by books that rise to the highest ceiling. But one day your normality will be turned upside down when a guy comes looking for some books on Egyptian history.

A/N: Ok first of all I must say that this idea arose from a little dream I had (and I also wanted to use the image from the movie The Mummy, I mean, just look at her, she is beautiful, she looks like Belle) second, I don't know if this will have more parts the truth is I'm not good at making long stories because then I leave them unfinished or I run out of ideas so, yes, I'm building this as I go along, sorry.

Part 2

And here I am once again, sitting behind the counter where you could see an old green lamp, a couple of books stacked one on top of the other, a typewriter and a little badge where you could read my name. With my legs crossed I moved my airborne foot rhythmically back and forth following a silent melody while my face rested lazily on my hand. My view was always directed towards the large windows that were near the line where the roof began. They were in the shape of a half circle and had a nice drawing similar to a stained glass window through which the sunlight passed in a warm way.

I loved being around libraries just for the sake of being a bookworm. I could spend hours reading old books sitting in a comfortable chair enjoying the silence without realizing it. But it was kind of boring to sit and wait for people to arrive so that you could help them with whatever they needed. I had already finished arranging the books with the help of the ladder, I loved doing it, it was fun to slide from one side to the other, it was almost like skating.

I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't realize someone had entered the library until they were in front of me so I gave a little jump in my seat.

"Oh so sorry! did I scare you? It wasn't my intention"

The person who addressed me was a very polite and kind middle-aged man, he had an innocent look in those pretty dark eyes he had. He was wearing a jean jacket and underneath was a white shirt, he was also wearing khaki pants and had a brown shoulder strap on one side.

"Don't worry, It's okay, I was just thinking, can I help you with something?"

I could not stop seeing his eyes, his look gave off a peculiar innocence glow, I could sense a genuinely beautiful aura like that of a child

"Well, yes. I was looking for books on Egyptian history, you know, gods and pharaohs, myths, pyramids, etc."

Every time he spoke his face would light up with enthusiasm, it was admirable to see

"Sure, we have several. Follow me please"- I said while my smile deepened

I led him through the aisles looking for the "Ancient Egypt" section by the gigantic shelves. The man meekly followed me like a lap dog without taking his eyes off me as he clung to his backpack. When we had reached the section, I took out 4 books, stacking them one on top of the other and numbering them as I handed them over to him.

" "History of Egypt", "Gods and mythologies", "Encyclopedia of the pyramids" and "The 10 most famous figures of ancient Egypt" And remember to return everything within 15 days "

I piled the books in the arms of that man who tried with effort to hold them since they were quite large and hardcover while I raised a finger and recited the prayer from memory. Even though the books were about to fall out of his hands, the man looked from the books to me with a beaming smile.

"Of course, yes, miss, I will do so. Thank you very much for your help"

I smiled generously at the man's good manners and walked him to my desk to finish the paperwork. I sat as the middle-aged man patiently watched me with his books in his arms like a child waiting for his Christmas present.

"Ok, I will give you a paper with the exact date where you must return the books along with our address, I would only need to know your name to write it down please"- I looked at him expectantly

"Steven Grant, Steven with a V"

I couldn't help but laugh at the clarification as if I didn't know how to write his name

"I clarify it just in case. A lot of people always misspell it, sometimes they call me Stephen. But surely you wrote it well, you seem to have nice handwriting hehe"

Steven giggled nervously as I smirked in amusement. What a singular man that Steven was

"No problem, what a nice name you have"- I smiled warmly

Steven got more nervous and his face begins to take on a cute reddish color as he stuttered and mumbled a thank you.

"By the way, my name is Y/n"

I told him, pointing with a fingernail to my badge that was resting on the desk. He looked at it for a while and smiled

"Now I won't forget"

And with one free hand he gave me a childish wave as he uttered a sweet "Laters gators" and headed for the exit. With one elbow on the table and my hand resting on my cheek, I watched him until he disappeared through the door.

"Steven.."

I pronounced his name slowly delighting myself with the syllables, it was sweet as honey and resonant as a bell. I was wondering if I would see him around here more often. I sighed with a lopsided smile and went back to staring at the stained glass windows waiting for someone else to come and help them.

The days passed and I didn't hear from Steven, he hadn't returned the books within the agreed period and I was beginning to worry. He supposed that this man was a little distracted or had forgotten or was busy with something important, anyway it was very common for people not to return the books on time and to be a little late. My head was full of thoughts hoping nothing bad happened to Steven and hoping to see him again when someone stormed through the library entrance.

"I'm really sorry!! I got there as fast as I could, apparently I fell asleep and woke up in a place full of sand. I have a sleep disorder, I'm sorry"

Steven was talking fast, spitting out the words like a machine gun, he looked agitated and his hair was messy. And on his face you could see the nervousness and concern. I tried to reassure him

"Steven, Steven calm down, it's okay. I get it, you don't have to apologize."

I grabbed his hand and squeezed it hard trying to provide warmth and protection. Steven giggled nervously and his cheeks turned pink, it was adorable.

"Oh by the way, here are the books"

Steven took out of his bag the books in perfect condition that I had given him. At least he was a man of his word

"Thank you very much Steven, do you want any other books?"

"Well actually yes, if it's not a bother, wouldn't you have one that talks about the moon god Khonsu?"-he said something nervous

I laughed in amusement

"Of course! We have many books on Egyptian gods, take the ones you want"-I said tenderly

Steven for some reason gave me a strange feeling, a maternal need to protect him, he looked so helpless at times. I can't even imagine how chaotic his life must be

"You know something? Why don't I buy you a coffee? I'll give you the new books and then we can hang out and chat, I have a break in 15 minutes."

Apparently Steven didn't expect that so he got even more red.

"I-Is it some kind of date?"

"If you want to see it that way, yes"

Steven smiled like a kid in a toy store and followed me back to the bookshelves. After giving him everything he needed, he waited for me at the entrance of the library like a true gentleman. I left my position in charge of my partner Selma who answered me with a grunt and left with Steven towards the nearest cafeteria.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _

We sat at a table close to the street. The cafeteria was decorated with flowers and vines, it was my favorite, it made it look Parisian. We both ordered a simple latte and to eat I ordered a croissant with chocolate and he asked for a kind of vegan burrito, then he explained to me that he doesn't eat anything that comes from animals.

"Well Steven tell me something about yourself, do you have a job?"

"Yes, I'm working in a gift shop at the British Museum. But I would really love to be the one who makes the guides"

"Really? Amazing! who'd say? You are a museum and history enthusiast and I am a bookworm willing to provide you with all the information you want."

We both laughed happily forgetting what was happening around us. Steven's laugh was like sweet nectar to my ears that made all my worries disappear. Except for one that was still on my mind

"Wait a second, how come you woke up in a place full of sand? Where exactly?"

"I have no idea, I wish I knew. But it's not the first time it's happened to me, one day I woke up on top of Everest"

Steven started laughing downplaying it and I laughed too but with less enthusiasm. I was worried about him.

"Well I think I should go back to my work, thanks for everything I really needed to talk to someone and distract myself"

I looked at Steven tenderly, thinking that I was probably the only person he could talk to broke my heart.

"Anytime Steven. Anyway, I also have to go back to work, the time flies by when you talk"

I left a tip on the table and was about to go to the library when Steven stopped me with a question.

"Would you like to visit me one day at the museum? It's that I always visit you...-"

"I'd love to"

We said goodbye with a smile as if we were lifelong friends and each one went their own way to continue with their work on that beautiful afternoon in London.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Sorry if it was boring and there wasn't much interaction with Steven but this is just the first part of the story

187 notes · View notes

thesteriuswife · 5 months

Text

Today marks three years of Dianthus existing! I made my first concept sketches for her on 11/20/23 💖 this also means it's been three years of Diathesterius! I sometimes use the date I uploaded Dia to toyhouse, the 21st, as the anniversary date just in case I'm late... but I managed to finish colouring this <3 I had actually wanted to do something for this earlier in the month, I even made some very elaborate plans for it... but it ended up not happening! Which is okay 💞 but I still wanted to draw a little wedding piece... so I did! I'll make something fancier when I have more time later on... 💝 I used my own handwriting here for authenticity, but at some point... I'd like to be able to rewrite in Greek for More authenticity <3 Uncropped version (and long rambling post) under the cut 💕 I get a little Vulnerable so don't read it if you're gonna be mean or else I'll like Get You or something

I've made posts in the past talking about why Theseus and Asterius mean so much to me, but I don't think I've made one on why Dianthus herself means so much to me.. so for her own third year anniversary, I'll do that here! before I begin...! the fruit in dia's hair here are from the strawberry tree, arbutus unedo. I associate the tree and its fruit with Theseus but... it's honestly been so long, I don't remember exactly why! Just that, for some reason, I imagine thathis childhood home had a tree of these fruit blossoming just outside his mother's room, and thus he has fond memories of it. Lady Dianthus... she who loves all things pink, actively hates celery, and still has a job at the library despite being so fogetful and clumsy... she who met Theseus and immediately became obsessed because it was the first interesting thing to happen to her- not a parent or someone she's close to, but herself! her first time feeling as if she had a true purpose. She who didn't understand Theseus' obsession with Asterius until meeting he Minotaur, and promptly decided "he's not scary? he's not scary at all! he's just a cow!" I've made sona and the likes before Dia of course, but she was the first in a long time who was truly meant to resemble me in all ways (except for the setting, of course...). I made her design simple so I would easily be able to redraw her, and gave her one of my favourite palettes pink and green and cream and gold. At first I really didn't expect to get that attached to her... I went months without drawing her after her initial creation. but the more I drew her the more I realized how much fun I was having with her...! It's funny looking back on it... originally I had a much more comedic idea for her story, and di not intend to ship her with Theseus in any serious way. It was going to be a completely one-sided love (with Dianthus taking the role of "crazed fangirl" - which she still is, in a way). I'm sure it isn't a surprise but it didn't take me long at all to start drawing ship art of them, creating artworks and writing of Theseus and Asterius was a self indulgent joy for me, so why not selfship art too? I ended up invested, of course. Using Dia I put a lot of my own feelings into a story; a sense of otherness, her loneliness, feeling lost and out of place. I had removed it later on because I felt uneasy with how vulnerable it was, but at one put I had placed one of the most traumatic events of my life into Dia's story- sometimes I think about adding it back, because I know giving her an oppurtunity to open up about it with her beloveds would be something beneficial to Me irl(!). But that's besides the point here... she's a stubborn girl, sweet but arrogant is my usual go-to descriptor for her; that's how I think of myself too, just based on what I've been told (I have a hard time thinking of myself as nice, though others always say so to me...). That may be part of why I tend to look for those features in (fictional!) lovers... something feels good to me about being able to butt heads due to this shared traits, but still coming together and making amends despite it. I do think it's a little funny that the sonas I've gotten the most attached to so far- Dianthus, and now Nerine- have some sort of theme of death with them. Dianthus is literally a ghost, and Nerine is metaphorically one (and maybe liteally, if I ever make up my mind...). Maybe that's just fitting for me, though... hmm... I'm not sure what else I want to say here... I think of Dianthus as "Me but in Hades Game / Ancient Greek context." Of course some events that happen in her life didn't happen to me, or, sometimes, I dramatize it (Dia's mother leaving her and her father to become the wife of a god was inspired by the fact that for the first few yers of my life, my parents were separated... but they always had a positive relationship with one another! Unlike Dia's parents), but she's become a big par

t of me all the same. Just as I am happy and hoping to spend many more years with Theseus and Asterius, I hope to spend many more years with her as well. i think that's all I'll write for now <3 if you read this thank you for being curious enough about me to be interested in all this 😭

btw, here's the first ever post of her... (yes thats my priv </3 i briefly unlocked it to search for this... don't try and follow me over there though it's crazy over there)

#🖼️ manuscripts #🌺👑🐂 love in idleness #@ this site. let me post!!! let me post this!!!!!

88 notes · View notes

raspberryslushie · 10 months

Text

Scrapbooking

Ft. Xiao, Kazuha, Itto, Cyno, Wanderer, Alhaitham, Albedo, Tighnari x gn!reader

Warnings: Slightly OOC, a few grammar mistakes.

Xiao:

You first suggested the idea of keeping a scrapbook with him when confronted with the problem of your own mortality and the inevitability of fate that most of everyone had to learn to accept. Yet it wasn’t your own end that you were worried for, but rather how Xiao would handle it. Making an album of sorts like this was your way of memorializing all the moments you had together so that the two of you would be able to look back on them in future times.

He probably doesn’t like getting his own pictures taken, and would much rather turn the camera’s lens towards you, so if you either have to compensate by taking selfies with both of you instead, or play a few tricks and catching him by surprise.

Spending time with him doing activities more relaxing like cutting out little paper stars to decorate the pages would definitely be a new experience for Xiao. One time he tried to draw the two of you together but it turned out a little bit questionable ??? (you still pasted it in the book, though).

When the qingxins begin to bloom, he would pick a few to press and dry for the book because the heart shaped leaves remind him of you. There would definitely be a few other kinds of flowers though, and when you asked why, Xiao would probably explain that they were the other yakshas’ favorites.

You found out that when Xiao thinks you’re not looking, he’d steal a few photos of you that you prepared to be pasted into the book for himself, so you always have to bring a few more pictures just in case.

Treasures the book and protects it with his life like it’s your child LMAO he may find it hard to admit, but really does care about the book especially since you put so much effort into it.

Kazuha:

Kazuha doesn’t mind doing something as domestic as making a scrapbook with you, and would probably suggest it first.

He definitely has a couple pages just full of leaves that he thought looked nice on his walks out.

Other times, you’d find new pages full of scraps of paper that Kazuha scribbled haikus down on, and they all share one thing in common: the subject is you.

Kazuha might begin collecting little rolls of decorative tape too, buying them from crafts stores back at inazuma. I imagine they’d have his signature leaf motifs and also the traditional inazuman ones on them. He’d probably find any excuse he has to use those tape rolls because of how colorful they are… like imagine little tanuki or foxes running across every page.

Contrary to some other people, Kazuha would have no problems taking photos with you, and would take a liking to bringing the camera along in all your travels. He’s very connected and in touch with the world around him, so being able to capture any moment he wishes is an appealing thought. Because of this, your scrapbook is going to be filled with photos of not just the two of you, but also stray cats on the streets, scenic views upon the Crux, firework shows in Inazuma….and the list goes on.

But of course, his favorite part of all of this is spending time decorating the pages with you! His favorite colors to use would of course be the colors of the leaves (they’re practically his brand at this point). If you happen to like those colors too, he’d be even giddier, gladly coloring in any blank spaces with colored pencils. Overall, Kazuha has a lot of time on his hands, but knows that his time is not eternal, so he treasures the book because it allows him to hold onto the past, reminding him when he forgets.

Itto:

Itto is definitely the type to go through all the trouble folding origami stars (especially with how clumsy he could be)…and then get sad when he realizes that they’re going to get crushed if he actually puts them in the book. So you also get him a little jar to put the stars in. Off-topic, but he probably also likes writing little wishes on the strips of paper before folding them into stars, so he gets really excited and thinks that the stars actually work whenever one of those wishes comes true. Who knows, maybe he’s right and there is a paper star god out there listening in on his wishes.

There would probably be a record of all the beetle duals that he has won and badly drawn images of his favorite beetles (like those posters in that one beetle event with Itto 💀).

And like his artwork, his handwriting probably isn’t the most outstanding, safe to say. Despite how enthusiastic Itto may be with the prospect of creating a scrapbook with you, there’s a slight learning curve when it comes to him. But in the end, it’s a good thing for him to try something new that doesn’t require so much energy to maintain.

Unexpectedly, the book fills up extremely quickly with all kinds of photos (even a few blurry ones because Itto didn’t want to throw any of them out). But that’s all because his simple presence is enough to make the passing of time feel special.

Now that you’ve made one with him, he’s probably eager to share the craft with the rest of the gang too. Whether they pick up on it or not is a different story, but Shinobu is probably the most glad to finally have a way for Itto to sit down quietly.

Cyno:

Cyno might use the scrapbook to also store some of his limited edition tcg cards since he treasures them so much. You thought it was your shared scrapbook, but NO. It was all for Cyno and his card games 💀. All jokes aside though, he would agree to make a scrapbook with you without much hassle. He doesn’t have much free time on his hands between being the General Mahamatra and spending much of his breaks on winning Genius Invocation games, but he’ll somehow always have time for his lover.

Enjoys taking pictures a lot. During hangouts with his friends, he especially likes to photograph his victories…much to the “annoyance” of his colleagues. Still, not all the photos are of Tighnari or Kaveh malding. There are images of group get-togethers at fancy restaurants, birthdays gone by, and festivals spent with smiles. In this way, it shows that despite Cyno’s tough exterior, he does care a lot for his friends.

He probably has a stamp with his name on it with something strange like “CYNO CERTIFIED” and enjoys imprinting it on random pages that he makes. Especially on pages with your photos on them LMAO.

Other than that, he treats the scrapbook more like a photo album. He probably isn’t as heavy on the more artistic approaches to this kind of project, all that matters is that it serves its original purpose of containing your memories together.

Was eating and got tomato or whatever on a page. It's a treasured and framed piece of artwork now.

Alhaitham:

Alhaitham has probably already tried something like this before. Being that he is the scribe of the Academiya, recording the important moments in his life would only come as natural with the nature of his profession as well. However, he treats the whole thing as more of a duty and job that he must do rather than a simple past time.

He probably has an assortment of pens and inks, so you can expect all kinds of scriptures written down in the book. Alhaitham himself isn’t picky, and most were likely simple gifts from occasions such as his birthday, so he’s even alright with you keeping a few (he’s keeping the set you gave him though–no take backs).

Sometimes you might find him reading the book like it’s some advanced piece of literature. Don’t mind him he’s just lost in his thoughts analyzing every single page. If it makes him happy, so be it.

Takes a photo of the two of you and fashions a bookmark out of it. It's his uncontested favorite now, and specially reserved for the scrapbook.

Loves watching you decorate the book, and especially loves watching you treat his photos like they’re some ancient artifact. It makes him feel all special and pampered inside.

Once he’s done with the first book, he starts another, and then another, and another… It only makes sense to keep the series updated as time goes on, but sometimes you wonder if the grind is getting to him LKAJSF;SA

Albedo:

THE artist. This man’s illustrations are PEAK. He’s one for perfection, striving to capture the world not only digitally with a Kamera but also by hand. In fact, he prefers to do it this way because the process of creating something with his own hands is more memorable to him.

One time he got distracted in the middle of an illustration of Sumeru’s fungi that you asked him to draw and gave them faces??/ that looked strangely like the two of you??? To this day you have no idea what was going on in his mind when he suddenly changed the drawing from scientific to horrific /j but its a unique addition to the book so that’s that ig

But of course, that doesn’t mean Albedo’s photographs are any less beautiful.

The angles, scenes, framing, and even the filters that were applied were perfected. Sometimes you wonder what his profession would be if he wasn't currently under the Knights of Favonius.

Worries and applies a TON of varnish onto a few pages of the scrapbook. That way the art and photos would last longer.

Takes extremely good care of the book and makes extra caution when he realizes that it may be in danger of Klee (he has all his best work in there man).

Wouldn't tell you it, but he's super proud of having made the book with you, and loves looking over it in his free time as an energy booster LMAO.

Tighnari:

Just like Albedo, I feel that Tighnari would be pretty decent at this kind of activity. With the journaling that must come with his work as a forest ranger, his attention to detail is extremely keen. Not to mention the fact that drawing and taking pictures would be much more familiar to him as well.

Tighnari would definitely prefer glue sticks to liquid glue, the reason being that there may have once been a small accident resulting in a bottle of runny adhesive spilling all over his fluffy tail.

He might’ve screamed like a little kid and acted a little grumpier than usual for a whole week.

But with a lot of reassurance from you that all the “bad glue” had been sealed and locked up (“to never see the light of day ever again”), he was willing to try again.

Unlike Cyno who’s pretty barebones with his work, I think Tighnari would like to dress up the pages that he decorates a bit more. Not too much to the point that it’s overbearing, but a couple ribbons and stickers would do.

The stickers in question are all of little squirrels and birds. THEY'RE sO CUTE KJJDDJLKD

Makes the squirrels stare at the pictures of flowers he took because it's more "accurate that way". In the same manner, he also likes putting stickers of birds around you like you're a Disney princess of some sort.

IM THIS CLSOE TO ENDING IT ALL YOU GUYS DONT UNDERSTAND...... .. . . i kept clicking control z bc its closer than delete and its in my muscle memory and uh control z deletes the whole post haha kjrjkr i had to rewrite it 4 times but thankfully we coolin now lets GOO

171 notes · View notes