#anyways is that before preschool. how old are they

[torchickentacos]

nobody understands feta cheese like i do

[justabigassnerd]

Come Home To Us

Pairing - Tim Bradford x reader

Word count - 4,748

Warnings - angst, inaccurate hospital/police scenes, mentions of suicide, viruses, brief mention of Tim's father, swearing, mentions of Tim getting shot

Summary - Tim liked to keep his personal and work life separate, although a certain event was about to change that

A/N - hey y'all this was an anon request that was an honour to write and I will forever push the girl dad Tim agenda I'm not sorry in the slightest. anyways I won't ramble but as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!

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Most of the Mid-Wilshire Police Department only knew Tim Bradford as the hard-ass training officer who never cracked a smile. They would see someone who had the toughest exterior known to man and assumed he was the same outside of work. But in actuality, Tim had a secret that very few knew about. And that secret was about to come out.

“Good morning, Tim.” Your sweet voice says softly as Tim blinks his eyes open, a smile coming to his face as his eyes lock with yours.

“Good morning, Baby,” Tim replies, instantly reaching across to wrap an arm around your waist, tugging you close so he can press a soft kiss to your lips as you giggle.

“You’re up earlier than usual.” Tim then muses with a light laugh as he notices the time on the clock behind you, knowing you always woke up after his alarm went off.

“Your daughter wanted a glass of water and who am I to deny her what she wants?” You reply, curling into Tim as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“My daughter?” Tim asks, an amused tone to his voice, pulling away enough to be able to look down at you.

“She wakes up at the crack of dawn most mornings. She gets that from you.” You laugh, watching as Tim lets out a gentle laugh before giving you another soft kiss.

“Momma! Daddy!” You glance over your shoulder to see your little girl Mia rushing into your room, and you open up your arms to catch her when she launches herself onto yours and Tim’s shared bed.

“Good morning, Sweetheart.” Tim greets Mia with a smile as she clambers from your embrace to Tim’s, giggling as he peppers her face with kisses. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched Tim and Mia interact. You remembered how in your early stages of pregnancy, Tim had been terrified, he was scared he was going to end up like his own father or that something would happen to him and leave you alone with a baby to take care of. But the moment Mia was born and he held her in his arms for the first time, Tim knew that he would go through hell and back to protect his little girl. He wanted to give her the whole world and more. You saw how Tim took to being Mia’s dad easily, he loved her like it was breathing and he made sure he was a present parent in her life.

“Can I have breakfast, please?” Mia asks, looking between you and Tim with the puppy dog eyes that melted you both down in seconds.

“Let’s get you ready for preschool first, then we’ll make breakfast,” Tim says, scooping Mia up into his arms, and sitting her on his hip as he gets out of bed. As he takes Mia back to her room to get her ready for the day, you get up and begin to change yourself, readying yourself for the day before heading out to the kitchen to begin making breakfast.

“Momma! Daddy said I could help make breakfast!” Mia comes hurtling into the kitchen, excitedly looking up at you as you laugh.

“Of course, you can help, Sweetie. What would you like for breakfast?” You ask, finding the little stepstool so that Mia can reach the kitchen counter to assist you in making breakfast.

“Cereal please.” She requests as you nod, already handing her one of her favourite princess bowls. Mia reaches up to the cupboard you kept the cereal in while you watched carefully. Mia was only five years old but she was already growing in her independence, and you knew she got that from Tim. Despite that, she was the sweetest little soul who loved and cared for everyone around her and you couldn’t be prouder to have her as your daughter.

“You got it, Sweetie? Do you want me to grab you the milk?” You ask softly, resting your hand on Mia’s back as you watch her carefully pour some cereal into the bowl, her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth in her concentration.

“Yes please, Momma,” Mia asks, satisfied with the amount of cereal she’s put in the bowl as she carefully places the box down. You press a soft kiss to the top of Mia’s head before heading over to the fridge to grab the milk for her as Tim enters the kitchen, smiling at you both and now dressed for the day.

“How’s breakfast making going?” Tim asks, crossing to you and capturing your lips in a soft kiss before letting you give the milk to Mia.

“You’re getting soft, you know?” You say with a laugh, thinking about the way Tim used to be when you first met him.

“Only for my family,” Tim says, hovering near Mia to supervise as she tries to pour the milk herself, eventually placing his hand on the carton and giving Mia a helping hand.

“I forget work doesn’t get the same privileges as us.” You tease, beginning to prep both your and Tim’s morning coffees, putting them into their respective travel mugs before making Mia’s packed lunch and filling a bottle with water for her.

As Mia eats her breakfast, Tim makes breakfast for you and him while you pack Mia’s bag with everything she’ll need for the day. You then join Tim and Mia at the table to eat your breakfast before noting the time when you’ve finished eating and tidied away.

“We should head out. Don’t want you to be late to preschool, do we?” You say, tickling Mia quickly, smiling as she squeals and squirms.

“Daddy, help!” Mia calls out for Tim to save her, making him scoop her up in his arms, holding her close as you laugh.

“I’ll protect you, Mia,” Tim says, holding her close as you roll your eyes jokingly.

“You can protect her by taking her to preschool, then.” You say, picking up Mia’s bag and holding it out towards Tim who takes it and slings the small strap over his shoulder.

“I can do that. Are you okay to collect her this afternoon?” Tim says, carrying Mia over to the shoe rack and helping her put her shoes on while you follow behind, grabbing your own work bag.

“Yeah, that’s perfectly fine.” You say, bending down as you gently brush Mia’s stray hair away from her face.

“Bye, Momma,” Mia says, throwing herself into your arms. You’re quick to hug her back, relishing the feeling of her clinging to you.

“Bye, Sweetie. I’ll see you this afternoon.” You whisper, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head before releasing her from the hug, straightening up to say goodbye to Tim.

“You’ll stay safe, won’t you? Come home to us?” You ask quietly so Mia doesn’t hear you.

“I always do. Nothing can stop me from coming home to you both.” Tim reassures you softly, placing his hands on your waist to pull you a little closer. He understood your fears, and he knew you’d been living with them for years. After Mia was born your worry only increased which made Tim all the more determined to get home to his family after every shift. And after the recent incident where Tim got shot, you worried about him even more.

“I love you.” You whisper softly just before Tim cups your face softly in his hands, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“I love you too.” He whispers after pulling away from the embrace, smiling down at you softly to reassure you that little bit more.

“Daddy, come on we need to go!” Mia’s little voice snaps you back to reality as she tugs on Tim’s jacket, making you both laugh.

“Okay, okay, you have a point. Let’s get going, Princess.” Tim says, taking Mia’s little hand in one hand while grabbing both his bag and hers with the other before heading out of the front door to take Mia to preschool and then head to work. A few minutes after Tim leaves, you grab your keys and bag then head out to your car so you can make your way to work. You worked at the local high school so you knew your day was going to be busy as you began the drive to work.

As you arrived at work you greeted your colleagues as you passed them in the corridors, making your way to your classroom, heading over to your desk and placing everything down so you can get on with your morning tasks. You spend time prepping your classes and making sure you’re ready for the day before your students begin to file into the room, all of them greeting you with a smile as they cross to their desks and settle in their seats.

The day progressed like any other, nothing you weren’t used to working in a high school. You taught your classes and caught up with your coworkers during lunch. Until your phone rang with an unknown number. Instantly filled with dread and assuming the worst, you excused yourself from your coworkers and accepted the call, walking to a quiet corner of the staff lounge.

“Hello?” You say into the phone, your throat drying up in anticipation of any bad news.

“Hello, is this Mrs. Bradford?” A nervous female voice asks.

“Yes, it is. Who am I speaking to?” You confirm before asking the woman on the other end of the line for her name.

“I’m Officer Lucy Chen. I’m Officer Bradford’s rookie.” Lucy introduced herself, pacing anxiously back and forth in front of the door she knew Tim was behind. You recognised Lucy’s name quickly as you recalled Tim talking about her.

“Is Tim okay?” Your voice was shaky as tears threatened to well up in your eyes. You knew Tim didn’t open up about his personal life to anyone at work outside of Angela and Wade so the fact he told his rookie about you was ringing alarm bells in your head.

“He- you know I’ll just let him tell you himself,” Lucy says, placing the phone by the gap under the door and putting you on speaker.

“Tim?” Your voice came through to the other room, making Tim perk up the slightest bit at hearing your voice.

“y/n?” Tim replies, making you let out a slight sigh of relief from hearing his voice, even if it was partially muffled.

“Tim, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” You ask, your fear evident in your voice as Tim leans his head back, resting it against the door.

“There’s been an incident. I don’t know if I’ll make it home tonight.” Tim says, trying to find the words to describe what’s going on without panicking you further.

“Tim, talk to me. What’s happened?” You plead, desperate for answers.

“Don’t tell anyone at work about this. But we found out there’s a group wanting to disperse a virus within the city. We tracked one of the weapons to this house after a guy picked it up by accident and he got sick and… he coughed on me. I’m quarantining in this room while we wait for the CDC but if I start showing any signs of the virus, I want to go out on my own terms. I don’t want to go through what I just saw this guy go through. I owe it to you to tell you that.” Tim says, and you feel a tear slip down your cheek at his words.

“No. You’ll be okay. You’re going to come home.” You say, lifting your free hand to wipe your tears away before anyone notices.

“But I might not. And I want you to be prepared for that outcome. Just promise me you’ll give Mia a hug from me and tell her I love her so much.” Tim says, fighting back the building tears at the thought of not seeing you or Mia again.

“You’ll tell her that yourself. Just hold on. You’ll be okay.” You beg, hoping that by some miracle the CDC will enter the room Tim is in and save him.

“I love you so much,” Tim murmurs softly.

“I love you too.” You whisper quietly in response.

“You go back to work, okay? I’ll have someone call you no matter what happens. I promise.” Tim says, and as much as you wanted to tell him no, to tell him that you wanted to come and sit with him and be by his side when he needed you. But you understood that he wanted you to keep busy, and for you to try not to worry about him too much, although that ship had already sailed.

“Okay. I love you.” You say, hearing Tim’s whispered response before you hang up the phone, wondering how you are going to get through the rest of the day with these thoughts in your head. You were thankful that after lunch you had a free period so you didn’t have to worry about teaching any classes and could focus on grading papers and making new lesson plans to get a head start. As you worked, you found your gaze being drawn towards the framed picture you have on your desk of you, Tim, and Mia. All you could do was hope that Tim would be okay, you had no idea how you’d tell Mia if anything happened to Tim. Mia was the biggest daddy’s girl and you knew it would crush her if you had to look her in the eye and tell her that her daddy wasn’t coming home.

“Please be okay, Tim.” You whisper, hoping that by some miracle, someone will hear your whisper and be able to save Tim. Halfway through your free period, your phone buzzed once more and this time you saw Angela’s name displayed across your phone screen and you scooped your phone up instantly, answering the call.

“Angela, please tell me he’s okay.” You plead, pacing your classroom anxiously as you wait for Angela to respond.

“He’s on his way to the hospital. The CDC got there and administered the vaccine but as he was leaving the house he passed out. He’s going to Shaw Memorial.” Angela explains as Jackson drives them to the hospital.

“I’m getting Mia and I’m coming to the hospital.” You say, shoving everything in your bag with little to no consideration for anything else but getting to Shaw Memorial.

“I’ll be waiting for you both,” Angela says with a nod, ignoring Jackson’s confused glances, bidding you goodbye before hanging up the phone.

After ending the call, you finish packing your bag and immediately make a beeline for the principal's office, knocking and entering with permission.

“Ah, y/n, what can I do for you?” He says with a friendly smile which falters when he notices your worried expression and the bag on your shoulder.

“Something’s happened with my husband. He’s in the hospital and I need to go and see him. I have lesson plans all written up in my desk so a substitute can step in I just need to go and see Tim.” You explain, trying not to sound too flustered but you also knew you were failing miserably.

“Of course, you can go. We should have someone available, I’ll track them down before the next period. You’re free to go. I hope everything is okay.” He says softly, holding up a hand to calm you down. When you process his words, you let out a small sigh of relief, your shoulders sagging in relief.

“Thank you so much, Paul.” You thank him gratefully, beginning to back away towards the door before saying a quick goodbye and rushing out to your car. You waste no time driving over to the preschool Mia is at, soon pulling up outside and heading into the reception.

“Mrs. Bradford, how can I help you?” The receptionist, Poppy greets you as you enter the room, her normal smile plastered on her face.

“I would like to pick Mia up early, please.” You say as you reach the front desk, bracing your hands on the desk.

“Is everything okay?” Poppy asks, picking up on your worried expression instantly.

“Tim’s in the hospital.” You say quietly and Poppy’s eyes widen slightly, making her nod as she gets up from her seat.

“I’ll go and get her.” She says quickly, excusing herself and heading off to find Mia and bring her to you. Poppy was only gone for about five minutes and soon returned with Mia skipping along by her side.

“Momma!” Mia exclaims happily, rushing into your outstretched arms as you crouch down to catch her in your arms.

“Hi, Sweetie.” You greet her, trying not to let your voice wobble with emotion as you straighten up, taking her hand in yours and taking her bag from her with your spare hand as you thank Poppy before walking Mia out to your car, helping her into her car seat and buckling her in.

“Where are we going, Momma?” Mia asks, her voice filled with innocence as she watches you carefully. And as much as you wanted to protect her, you knew you couldn’t lie to her.

“Daddy’s in the hospital so we need to go and make sure he’s okay.” You explain, brushing some baby hairs away from her face as she frowns, eyebrows furrowing as she puts everything together in her head.

“Daddy’s hurt?” She asks quietly, making you realise she was thinking of when Tim was last hurt on the job.

“I’m not sure, Sweetie. The doctors will tell me what’s happened when we get there and then we can check on him.” You say softly, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to the top of her head before you get behind the wheel, driving to the hospital. When you find a place to park, you help Mia out of the car, walking alongside her hand in hand while you call Angela, letting her know where you’re entering the hospital so she can meet you. It took you less than five minutes to locate Angela.

“Auntie Angie!” Mia calls out, rushing over to Angela who scoops Mia up in her arms, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

“Hey, Mia.” Angela greets you with a smile before looking over at you.

“How is he?” You ask quietly, watching Angela’s reaction carefully.

“He seems to be okay. He woke up before they got him into the hospital. He actually helped one of our rookies out of a tough spot. The doctors are waiting for you, I’ll keep an eye on Mia. I think you need some time alone with Tim first.” Angela says, causing you to let out a sigh of relief as you thank Angela quietly before crossing to the nurse's desk.

“Hello, I’ve been told my husband, Tim Bradford has been brought here. Can I see him?” You ask, watching as the nurse glances at you with a smile.

“Let me just get the doctor for you.” They say, paging the doctor who arrives in what feels like record time and quickly locates you still standing by the desk.

“Mrs. Bradford?” The doctor greets you softly, making you turn to face him with a smile and a nod.

“Yes. Is Tim okay?” You ask, desperate for answers.

“Your husband is okay. All his test results have come back clear and an allergic reaction to the vaccine caused his passing out.” The doctor explains, a smile on her face as you nod, happy tears coming to your eyes.

“Can I see him? Is that okay?” You ask, your fingers drifting to your wedding ring as you twist it nervously around your ring finger.

“Yes, you may. Follow me and I’ll take you to his room.” She says with a nod, turning and leading you to a room, stopping by the door and encouraging you to head in. After a deep breath, you open the door and head into the room.

“y/n.” Tim breathes out softly from where he is sitting on the hospital bed. You didn’t respond at first, instead striding across the room, sitting alongside Tim on the bed, grabbing his face in your hands and kissing him strongly. You had no words for how relieved you were to see Tim alive and well so all you could do in this moment was kiss him.

“You scared the shit out of me.” You whisper, pulling away enough to speak, your lips brushing up against his as your hands drop from Tim’s face to his shoulders.

“I’m sorry. I promise it was never my intention to scare you. I thought today was going to be an easy day at work.” Tim admits quietly, lifting a hand to cup your cheek in his hand and brush a thumb over the apple of your cheek softly.

“Last time you said that was after you got shot. Maybe you should stop assuming work’s going to be easy.” You weakly attempt to joke, pulling back a little more as Tim lets out a light chuckle, dropping his hand from your cheek, reaching up and taking one of your hands in his, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles rhythmically.

“Sounds like I should,” Tim says softly. There was then a slight lull in conversation as you thought of what Tim had said to you on the phone earlier.

“Did… did you mean what you said about going out on your own terms? Would you have really-” You cut yourself off, tears already stinging your eyes at the mere thought of Tim taking his own life.

“If you had seen what that virus did to a person, you’d understand why it was a serious consideration. I didn’t want to go through what I had just seen that guy Peter go through. That virus was horrible, I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.” Tim explains, his eyes never leaving yours for a second as you nod lightly.

“So, you don’t feel like that normally? It was only because you thought you were sick with that virus?” You ask, watching Tim’s expression carefully.

“I promise you I don’t ever have thoughts like that. I’ve never been happier with my life than I am now. You and Mia are my life and you both make me so unbelievably happy. I promise.” Tim says, squeezing your hand to exaggerate his point. At his words, you nod, lifting your free hand to wipe the threatening tears away.

“You’d tell me if you ever felt like that. Wouldn’t you?” You ask softly, watching as Tim nods.

“Of course,” Tim whispers. Part of you knew that Tim had a tendency to keep his struggles to himself, but since starting a relationship with you he had gotten better at opening up about things so you at least had some comfort in the knowledge that he was more likely to come to you about any problems. With everything now discussed, you looked at Tim with a soft smile before speaking.

“Would you like to see Mia? She’s with Angela in the waiting room.” You say, not missing how Tim’s eyes lit up at the mention of his daughter.

“She’s here?” He asks, watching as you nod with a smile.

“I’ll go and grab her now.” You say, standing up and pressing a quick kiss to the top of Tim’s head before exiting the room and heading back to the waiting room where you see Mia sitting on a chair as a female police officer stands behind the chair as she did Mia’s hair. You didn’t know who this officer was but judging by everyone’s smiles, she was a good one.

“Momma! Look! Lucy did my hair!” Mia exclaims excitedly, hopping off the chair and showing off the braids she now had in her hair and when you hear Mia name the police officer, you realise that she must be the one who called you earlier.

“It’s very pretty, Mia! Did you thank Lucy?” You ask, guiding Mia back towards the group of gathered police officers.

“Thank you, Lucy!” Mia chirps, rushing over to the rookie who smiles and shakes her head.

“No need to thank me. Mia’s a sweetheart.” Lucy at first says to Mia before looking up at you and directing her next sentence to you.

“Aw thank you. But in all seriousness, I should be thanking you for calling me about Tim in the first place.” You thank Lucy gratefully, feeling like you owe her so much.

“Tim asked me to call you for him. All I did was dial the number.” Lucy says in an attempt to downplay what she did.

“You still let me know about what happened. That means a lot.” You say, smiling at Lucy who nods with a shy smile of her own.

“I’d love to spend time chatting but I promised Tim I’d bring Mia to see him. But I would love to get to know you all properly at some point.” You say apologetically, taking Mia’s hand in your own and bidding the gathered officers a hurried goodbye before heading off in the direction of Tim’s hospital room. As they watch you leave, Nolan and Jackson move to stand by Lucy’s side.

“Tim had a whole secret family and no one knew but Angela?” Jackson asks, glancing over at his training officer who shrugs with a grin.

“It helps to be the one who introduced them,” Angela says proudly, making the rookies exchange a look.

“She’s basically the polar opposite of Tim,” Nolan says, wondering why Angela had thought you and Tim would’ve made a good couple.

“They say opposites attract and I just knew y/n and Tim would work,” Angela says, folding her arms across her chest as the other rookies begin to bombard her with questions.

Meanwhile, you led Mia to Tim’s hospital room, opening the door and encouraging her to enter the room, seeing how she smiled upon seeing her dad.

“Daddy!” She says happily, rushing over to Tim’s bedside as Tim smiles widely.

“Hi, Sweetheart,” Tim says, holding an arm open to encourage Mia to hop up alongside him but you both see her hesitation as you pull up a chair alongside the bedside, settling into it. You exchange a glance with Tim before you realise why it is she was hesitating to join Tim.

“You’re not going to hurt Daddy, Sweetie.” You say softly. You remembered how when Tim got shot and was in the hospital last, Mia had rushed into his hospital room and nearly jumped up alongside him so you had warned Mia to be careful and to not jump on him while he was hurt.

“I’m not hurt, Princess. I promise.” Tim says, smiling softly at your daughter as he extends his arm out once again, and this time Mia carefully climbs up on the bed alongside him and curls into his embrace, resting her head on his chest.

“How long have you got off this time?” You ask lightly as Tim runs a hand up and down Mia’s back.

“At least two weeks,” Tim says, remembering what the doctor had told him just so they could play on the side of caution.

“Oh good, that’s plenty of time for you to reconsider my idea of getting a dog.” You say with a smile, watching as Tim jokingly glares at you while Mia perks up.

“Yes! Get a dog!” She says excitedly, curling up closer to Tim and attempting to give him puppy dog eyes.

“We’ve been over this,” Tim says, looking pointedly at you as you smile innocently.

“Please, Daddy.” Mia pleads, cuddling impossibly closer as Tim rolls his eyes jokingly.

“I will consider it.” Tim concedes, sighing as you and Mia share a high-five. As you settle back in your seat, you reach across and rest your hand atop Tim’s free hand, smiling as you watch him press a gentle kiss atop Mia’s head.

As you watched Tim interacting with Mia, you were filled with overwhelming gratitude that Tim was okay. He was so important to you and Mia and you dreaded the mere thought of him not being around anymore. But he was alive and healthy, and you knew that he would not let anything get in between him and his family.

He’d always make his way home to you.

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

Summary: Will's birthday party brings back some familiar faces and gives Eddie the perfect opportunity to make amends with Corroded Coffin, but an unexpected interruption might have him hurtling towards his old ways.

Warnings: some dirty talk (18+ only just in case), drinking/drunkenness (everyone is over 21), pregnancy and labor complications, mentions of past bullying

WC: 8.2k

Chapter 14/20

Divider credit to @saradika Special shoutout to @storiesbyrhi and @corroded-hellfire for helping with the fluffy sections and making this piece strong.

--

Afternoons at Hawkins Preschool are predictable: storytime on the carpet is followed by the kids’ pack-up routine, and once all belongings are shoved into their proper backpacks, they file out the door to go home. 

Predictable is good. It’s safe. And it certainly doesn’t include a fire drill half an hour before dismissal. 

Herding nine children through the bustling hallways and trying to ensure no one is left behind is overwhelming enough. Factor in the ear-splitting alarm and the surge of adrenaline pulsing through your students once they re-enter your classroom, and you’ve got the perfect recipe for chaos. 

Instead of fighting a losing battle to keep the kids calm and quiet, you’d opted to plunk them down with myriad art supplies and called it a day. 

Now, after the last student had been picked up, you and Will are left cleaning the mess they’d made. Broken crayons are scattered across the tabletops, there’s Play-Doh of various colors stuck to the floor, and gold glitter—when did you even acquire glitter?—dusts every surface. 

“Seriously…who thought that that timing was a good idea?” Will grumbles, tossing a Crayola stub into the crayon basket. He adopts a nasal, mocking tone. “‘What would help out our teachers? Oh, I know—let’s interrupt their dismissal routines!’”

You laugh despite your own exhaustion. Somehow, you’ll have to muster up the energy to tutor Harris tonight. 

Will reaches into the cupboard to grab his car keys, turning back around with a smile that he only offers you when he needs something. “Could I ask you for a little favor?”

There it is. “How little?” You cock one brow as you clip a stack of papers together.

“Eensy weensy. Miniscule. Microscopic–”

“The more you say it, the less I believe you.”

“Okay, okay,” Will acquiesces, twirling his keyring around his forefinger. “So, for my birthday thing on Saturday…a bunch of my childhood friends are gonna be there. Mike, Dustin, Suzie, Lucas, Max, Jane…” he lists them, ticking off each name on his fingers. “Anyway, I was hoping that maybe you could talk to Eddie about a Corroded Coffin reunion? I know they’re on a hiatus or whatever, but if anyone can convince him to play, it’s you.”

He’s not wrong; you’re the most likely person to get Eddie to do, well, anything. But asking him to make amends with Danny and Gareth and getting their band to play a gig three days from now seems like a mountainous task.

Will is staring at you, hands clasped together pleadingly. He’s too optimistic for his own good, and you can’t help but give in.

“Fine, I’ll try. But–hey, don’t get excited yet,” you warn when he pumps his fist in celebration. “‘Try’ is the key word here. I’m not making any promises.”

Your admonition goes unheeded as Will already considers it a victory. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” You give him a small, tight-lipped wave as he dashes out the door. You and Eddie were already planning to attend the party; you’d spent part of last night scouring an art store for the perfect gift. And he and Jeff were back to being thick as thieves…maybe this could work. 

“All right, Mr. Harris,” you say with a laugh, hurriedly placing tiles of various shapes in front of him. You need to make the most of the few minutes you have left until Eddie arrives. There’s a soft, familiar flutter in your stomach as you think about seeing your boyfriend, but you know you can’t compete with him for Harris’s attention. “Can you find the…trapezoid?” The inflection in your voice makes it sound like a much more exciting task than it really is, and you hope it’s enough to wrangle his focus. 

Harris pokes out his tiny pink tongue as he assesses the tiles. He initially reaches for the blue rhombus, but as soon as his little finger touches it, he pulls away as though it’s on fire. “No…that’s not it.” You tuck your lips into your mouth to suppress your amusement as he thoughtfully taps his forefinger on his lips. A solid ten seconds pass before he triumphantly snatches up the correct tile. “Got it!” he beams, showing off the red trapezoid in his hand.

“You did! You got the trapezoid!” You hold up your hand for a high-five, frowning when he shakes his head. His overgrown curls brush along his eyebrows, and you wonder if it’s your place to suggest that Eddie take him for a haircut. “No high-five?”

“Nuh-uh,” Harris protests, now swiveling his whole body in defiance. “I want…tickles!” He holds his arms out, leaving his torso wide open.

Lips pursed in faux consideration, you lower your voice to a hushed whisper. “Hmm…I think that warrants a visit from the Tickle Monster!” You flex your fingers so they resemble claws; he instinctively scrunches up in anticipation, arms tucked into his stomach. You let out your silliest wicked cackle as your fingers dig mercilessly into his sides in pursuit of his most ticklish spots. Delighted peals of laughter emanate from his chest, and you don’t stop until the buzzer rings, signaling Eddie’s arrival.

Harris’s eyes get wide, mischief dancing behind his pupils. “Do you think the Tickle Monster should get Daddy?” he asks, keeping his voice low despite it only being the two of you. 

“Oh, absolutely.” You buzz Eddie in while formulating the game plan aloud. “I’ll grab the pizza and you go on the attack. Once the food is secured, I’ll join you.” You stick out your pinky, and he wraps his own around it. 

“Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

His words turn your heart into a chocolate chip cookie fresh out of the oven, ooey gooey and destined to crumble if handled too harshly. “I love you, too, Harris,” you manage, blinking back embarrassing tears. The flood of emotion is absurd; he probably tells his stuffed animals that he loves them with the same fervor, but you can’t deny the adoration with which he looks at you.

He flings his arms around you in a hug, squeezing tight. Face pressed to your ribs, his words are muffled but still audible when he says, “I don’t know why Daddy says it’s hard to say ‘I love you.’”

He doesn’t have time to further elaborate before Eddie’s knocking on the door. “Special delivery for my two favorite people!” Your heart beats faster with the knowledge that he’s on the other side, that you’ll be able to sneak in a kiss or two. 

You and Harris share devious grins, the little boy emulating your monster-esque stance from earlier. He creeps behind you on his tiptoes, and bites back a giggle when you slowly open the door, counting down from three under your breath.

“Hi–whoa!” Eddie stumbles back as Harris barrels into him, little fingers dancing across his lower stomach. You quickly snatch the pizza box from Eddie’s grasp and place it on the table before darting back to where his son has ambushed him. You start on his bicep and let your nails travel upwards until they reach the crook of his neck. 

“I’m under attack!” Eddie yelps, twitching this way and that way in a meager attempt to protect himself. “I bring you pizza and this is how I’m repaid?” He easily scoops Harris into his arms, flinging him over his shoulder. Harris lets out an exhilarated squeal, carelessly kicking his sock-clad feet into his dad’s chest. “Jesus, little dude. You’re getting too strong.” Wincing slightly from the pinch in his back as he places the boy on the floor, he gives his tush a little pat and tells him to wash up for dinner, reminding him to use soap and water.

As soon as Harris scampers off into the bathroom, Eddie’s grabbing you by the belt loops of the wide-leg jeans you’d changed into when you got home. One hand slides around your waist and the other finds purchase on your cheek as he kisses you deeply, keeping a listening ear out for the telltale pitter-patter of Harris returning. 

“Missed you,” he murmurs into your mouth, and you shiver at the intimacy this closeness brings.

You laugh quietly, biting your lower lip. “We just saw each other this morning,” you remind him, sneaking in another quick peck.

Eddie shakes his head. “Y’know what I mean. Can’t do this while you’re on the clock,” he counters, shifting his grip so both hands rest on either side of your face. You think he’s going to kiss you again, but he just gazes into your eyes. “Shit, you’re so fuckin’ pretty. Couldn’t stop thinkin’ about you today.” He rests the slope of his nose on yours, only snapping out of his trance at the sound of Harris rapidly switching the faucet on and off. “Let me go check on him before this place is underwater,” he whispers, giving your own ass a smack as he shuffles towards his mischievous son, a cheeky grin deepening his dimples.

You do your best to compose yourself, heat creeping up your neck and into your face. Busying yourself by placing pizza slices onto paper plates does little to distract you; it’s as though every neuron is dedicated to flooding your brain with Eddie, Eddie, Eddie. 

The way the pads of his fingertips brush against your cheeks when he holds your face. The plush moisture of his lips when he kisses your forehead. The tickle of his brown tresses when he nuzzles into you and takes a deep breath, finally able to relax after a long day. 

“Are you expecting a guest?” Eddie pipes up from the kitchen entrance. A perplexed frown overtakes your lips until he gestures to what you’ve laid out in front of you: four slices of pizza, two plain and two with olives, on four plates. 

Your vision gets a bit fuzzy with tears when you realize what you’ve done. “No, it’s, um…” Nostrils flare as you huff out a short puff of air, hot under your nose. “Force of habit, sorry.” You’ve been so diligent about only serving three slices, but your preoccupation with his touch had your mind drifting from the task at hand.

It takes him a moment to process what you mean, but when he does, his face falls. It was for Grandma. “It’s okay,” he says, cringing as the words leave his mouth. Because it’s not okay that you’re sad; it’s normal, but frustration still tugs at his heart that he can’t take it away.

It feels wrong to return the slice to the box, so you leave it where it is. Eddie balances the three plates, sliding a plain one in front of Harris. The boy digs in hungrily, sauce caught on the edges of his smile.

“How was work?” you ask Eddie, grabbing a napkin from the pile in the center of the table. It’s a simple question, one that people ask each other all the time, but it stirs up a warmth inside of him. It’s you asking him, fostering a domestic routine that he could follow for the rest of his life. He’d walk through the door of your house, wiping his shoes on the welcome mat you two had picked out together. The kids–Harris, plus another Little Munson or two–would practically knock him down trying to greet him, and he’d engulf them in bear hugs before reaching out to you, kissing your forehead with a murmured, “there’s my girl.”

“Eds?”

“Huh? Oh, yeah, it was good.” He stumbles over the words, trying to clear his head of the fantasy he’d conjured up. “Lotsa paperwork, y’know.” He takes a bite of pizza, chewing thoughtfully. “What about you?”

You shrug, watching amusedly as Harris sinks his teeth into his slice and manages to pull all of the cheese off of the crust in one fell swoop. “The usual. The kids are learning about springtime, so Will decided to do a craft making flowers using finger paint and their handprints.”

“Sounds messy.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you agree with a weary grin, “but it was super cute, and Will is great with all that art stuff.” You excuse yourself from the table to get the water pitcher and three glasses, stopping when you remember your TA’s request. “He also asked me if a certain local metal band could play his birthday party on Saturday…?”

Eddie pauses mid-chew, nearly choking on his food. The cheese seems to congeal in his mouth when he tries to speak. “Um, I don’t know about that,” he finally manages, nervously massaging the back of his neck. “I haven’t talked to Danny or Gareth since…”

“I know, but you said you wanted to make things right with them,” you point out. “Maybe Jeff can test the waters? See if they’re ready to talk to you?”

“Maybe.” He averts his gaze, staring at the pizza slice without taking another bite. 

You don’t want to further push the subject in Harris’s presence; instead, you turn your attention to the little boy. “Anything fun happen at school today, Har?”

“Nah,” he responds automatically just a half-second before his eyes light up. “Actually, yeah! My friend Charlie ate a bug at recess today!”

“Ew!” you exclaim, wrinkling your nose in pure disgust, as Eddie simultaneously poses the question, “what kind of bug?”

“An ant,” Harris answers his dad nonchalantly, as though ant-eating is an everyday occurrence. Perhaps it is, which is even more unsettling. 

“Did you eat any bugs?” You’re afraid of his response; you’re unsure why you even asked in the first place. 

To your relief, he shakes his head, a forlorn look on his cherubic face. “No, I couldn’t catch any in time.”

“Thank God for small miracles,” you mutter, turning back to your original task of getting something to drink. Though if the topic of bug consumption continues, you’ll need something much stronger than water. 

Could Corroded Coffin play again?

It’s a thought that consumes Eddie for the entirety of his drive home, barely able to listen to Harris yammering about how there’s a coin in his jacket pocket that he doesn’t remember putting there. He throws a few lackluster mhms his son’s way and hopes he’s too distracted by the mystery coin to catch on. 

We’re getting the band back together. Well, if Jake and Elwood Blues could swing it, maybe he could, too. 

He waits until Harris is asleep to call Jeff. Getting his son to do his bedtime routine is easiest on Wednesday nights; he’s usually exhausted after a full day of school and tutoring. The one time that Eddie could use an excuse to procrastinate, Harris is out like a light. 

Go to voicemail go to voicemail go to—

“‘Lo?”

Shit. “H-Hey, man,” Eddie begins awkwardly. “How’s it going? Viv doing okay?”

“We’re good. She’s ready to have this baby already. I reminded her, ‘just two more weeks,’ but then she told me to ‘fuck off’ until I’m the pregnant one, so…” he chuckles, more nervous than amused. “Everything good with you? Harris?”

“Yeah, we’re fine. Just, um,” he struggles to find the words, blurting out the first ones that enter his brain. They come out in a rush before he can stop them. “Do Gareth and Danny still hate me?”

Jeff takes a sharp breath in; his reaction does nothing to temper Eddie’s nerves. “They never hated you. They were just…disappointed? Jesus, I sound like my mom.” 

Eddie misses his friend’s anecdote, too wrapped up in his head to fully pay attention. Somehow, disappointed stings worse than the prospect of being hated, especially when the people he’s let down are ones who used to idolize him. “Do you think there’s a way they could be…undisappointed in me? Like, enough to forgive me and maybe play a gig this weekend?”

There’s an extended pause, and then a one-word response: “Christ.” 

Eddie can picture Jeff rubbing his eyes in exasperation, and he scrambles to explain. “Will Byers–you remember him? He was in Hellfire; had that weird bowl cut thing going on?”

“Mhm.”

“He’s having a birthday thing at the Hideout on Saturday and asked if we could play. Just a coupla songs.”

Jeff thinks for a moment; Eddie can hear him drumming his fingers on a nearby surface.

“Why don’t you come over tomorrow night around…6?” he ventures. “I’ll invite the guys and we can…I dunno, figure something out.”

“Thanks, man. I owe you.” He’s about to hang up when he remembers to ask, “Can I bring Harris?”

“Of course.”

“Har, slow down!” Eddie’s barely unbuckled his son’s car seat before Harris has wriggled out of the sedan, bolting straight for Jeff’s door.

“But I haven’t seen Uncle Danny and Uncle Gareth in forever!” he laments, reaching the house far faster than Eddie. He stands on tiptoes and rings the doorbell like a madman, forefinger jamming into the button at warp speed. “Uncle Jeff! It’s me!”

Jeff opens the door with a huge smile. “Mini Munson!” He scoops the boy up into a hug. “What’s new with you, little dude?”

“I got a wiggly tooth!” Harris exclaims, jutting out his jaw and pressing his tongue against the front center of his mouth. Sure enough, the baby tooth moves slightly forward, and he giggles. “Daddy says the Tooth Fairy’s gonna come and leave me a dollar,” he matter-of-factly reports. He peeks his head over Jeff’s shoulder, squealing and squirming out of his grip when he spots the two men sitting on the couch. He flings himself onto the sofa and plunks himself down into Gareth’s lap. “Hi!”

“Hey, kiddo!” Gareth chirps. “You’re getting so big.”

“‘M five now. I had a birthday party because I turned five.” He splays out his palm to offer five fingers. 

“Did your friends go?”

“Yup!” Harris beams at the memory. “An’ Daddy an’ Grampa Wayne an’ Ms. Sweetheart.”

Danny furrows his brows. “Who’s Ms. Sweetheart?”

“She’s my almost-mommy. Daddy has to fall in love with her first.” 

“Is that so?” Gareth smirks at Eddie. His teasing look is the first crack in the wall that has separated the men for the last six months, and though Eddie is thoroughly embarrassed, it alleviates some of his anxiety.

“Uh, Har Bear, why don’t you go hang out with Auntie Viv while I talk with the guys?”

Viv holds out her left hand, looking utterly exhausted. Her right hand rests on her bump, eyes sending a telepathic message to Jeff that they have five minutes—ten minutes, if Harris behaves well—to come to a solution before she needs a break. 

Silence filters into the room as Eddie fumbles to address the mess he’s made. If Danny and Gareth are here, they’re at least willing to listen to him, which is honestly farther than he’d assumed he’d get. 

He remembers what Harris said about apologizing; technically, what you’d taught him about apologizing: the act of saying sorry, not merely implying it, makes a world of difference. 

“I was an asshole,” he starts. It’s not his most eloquent statement, but it certainly gets the point across. “Not just that night at the Hideout, or at our last practice. I was an asshole for a long time before that. And…I’m sorry.” It feels good to say it; it feels even better that they’re nodding, seeming to believe him. “You guys didn’t deserve to be treated like that.”

Of the rest of the band, Gareth is the one to speak first. “I guess I’m just wondering, why? Why be an asshole to us? We’ve always been there for you.”

“I know.” Eddie fiddles with a thread hanging from his t-shirt, pulling on it until it snaps off. He shoves it in his jeans pocket, not wanting to mess up Jeff and Viv’s place. “Honestly…I’m not sure, but I think it’s because you guys are everything I’m not.”

“What are you talking about?” Danny asks, tone heavy with disbelief. 

“In high school, I was the one you looked up to. The person you wanted to be like. And then I had a kid with some random chick I thought I knew but barely did, gave up my dreams of being a musician, and started selling weed again just to scrape by. And here you guys are. Jeff,” he motions to the friend leaning against the sofa’s arm, “you have a baby on the way with the love of your life. And all of you have goddamn college degrees and jobs that you don’t despise and don’t require you to hide from the law.” He shoves his ringed fingers into his jacket pockets, lowering his voice to barely above a whisper. “And I was nothing.”

Gareth scratches at the upholstery with one finger, absorbing everything he’s just heard. “You know we never stopped looking up to you, right?” He gives a short laugh when Eddie’s eyes widen. “Yeah, man. Leaving Chicago so you could take care of Harris? Putting your kid before yourself? That’s pretty badass.”

Danny nods. “Ed, if there’s someone here to look up to, it’s you.” Both he and Eddie visibly relax. Shoulders drop from their hunched positions, thin lips unfurling into smiles. “No matter what you went through, you never gave up. Even if it almost killed us,” he adds wryly, referring to all of the sleep-deprived Corroded Coffin practices fueled by black coffee and pure adrenaline.

“No fancy diploma can teach us how to stand up for ourselves, or how not to take shit from people, or how to be a dad,” Jeff pipes up from where he’s standing. “We learn from you, man.”

Eddie’s cheeks burn at the compliments, unsure how to accept them. He’d walked in expecting to have to beg for forgiveness, and they were the ones reassuring him. It’s now or never, and he forges ahead while he still has the courage. “Do you…can we get the band back together?” Can we be friends again is the underlying plea, but it’s too vulnerable a statement to make. “We’ll keep it low-key, I promise. Work, family, anything comes up…we can cancel or reschedule. And I won’t be a dick about it.”

The three other men look at one another, nod and turn back to Eddie with smart grins and mischievous glimmers in their eyes.

“On one condition.” Gareth crosses his arms over his chest, smirking as he sinks back against the couch. “You tell us all about this ‘Ms. Sweetheart.’”

The Hideout, normally dingy and coated in a film of sticky ale, has been decked out for Will’s birthday party. Helium-filled balloons in every color bob along the low ceiling, vibrating with the thumping bass of the old sound system. Crepe paper streamers–purple, Will’s favorite color–sway gently with the air that rushes in from opening the door. This has to be Marshall’s handiwork, and it brings a smile to your face. If anyone deserves a partner who fawns over him, it’s Will.

You spot him surrounded by a group of people as the bartender slides a row of tequila shots across the bar and into their eager hands. While they’re distracted by alcohol, you take the opportunity to dart towards the backstage area.

Eddie’s there, digging around for his lucky pick. You wrap your arms around his waist, fingers pressed into the soft dough of his tummy.

“Hey, Rockstar,” you murmur against his neck, kissing just below his earlobe. 

He turns around, jaw dropping when he sees you in a maroon slip dress. The heels on your feet have you two inches taller than usual, and he has to shift where his gaze normally lands to meet your eyes.

“Fuckin’ Christ, baby,” Eddie practically growls, kissing you deeply. One hand presses against the small of your back while the other grabs the plush of your ass, kneading it in his palm. “You’re so fuckin’ sexy. How’m I gonna go out there and play with you looking like that?”

“I’ll make it worth your while.” You giggle when he offers up a bemused smile. “If you do a good job tonight, I’ll give you a reward.” You let your fingertips graze over the metal teeth of his pants zipper, feeling him twitch at your light touch. 

“You’re dangerous,” he winks, delivering another kiss; this time, he gives your lower lip a little bite when he pulls away. His kohl-rimmed eyes draw you in just as they did that first night you’d met, but now you dive into them without the fear of drowning. 

A tactful “ahem” from the now-open doorway startles both you and Eddie, having been floating in an embrace that’s equal parts comfort and desire.

“Sorry to interrupt the lovefest, but we’re on in five,” a man’s voice calls from the doorway. You turn around to see the other three Corroded Coffin members standing there, amusement evident in their expressions.

“You must be Ms. Sweetheart,” one of the guys, soft curls resting atop his head, pipes up. His tone is teasing, but not mocking; the nickname is said with admiration and affection. “I’m Gareth, by the way.” 

“Danny,” the one with tight, wiry curls offers, giving a small wave.

Jeff just shrugs. “You know me.”

Eddie grabs his guitar, slinging the strap across his body. His pants’ fly is tight, and he wills himself to calm down before it’s time to perform. He hasn’t worried about being hard on stage since he was nineteen, but thoughts of your bodies perfectly melding into each other has him subtly adjusting himself as he turns his back to his bandmates.

“See ya out there, baby,” he says before pressing a quick kiss to your cheek. The brief contact between you has you biting your tongue in self-beration for suggesting that the band play tonight. All you want is to dance with him, allowing the steady flow of alcohol to dull your inhibitions as you pull him impossibly close. Not caring who sees or what they think. 

But this night isn’t about you or Eddie. It’s about Will, your TA-turned-friend who has kept you sane amidst your adorably chaotic students and their decidedly less adorable and more chaotic parents. He wanted Corroded Coffin to play his party, and that’s the least you could do for him. 

Will’s already teetering between tipsy and inebriated, breath tinged with the scent of tequila as he introduces you to his friends.

“This is my amazing boyfriend, Marshall.” He smacks a wet kiss to the man’s cheek. “And these are my friends from growing up: Dustin and Suzie, Lucas and Max, and Mike and Jane.” His face melts into a sappy grin as he leans on Marshall to hold him up. “You guys! We’re all in looooove!”

“Jesus Christ,” Dustin mutters, rolling his eyes and shaking his head before turning his attention back to you. “Can we get you something to drink?”

Will raises his empty glass. “I’ll take another–”

“Not you.”

You manage to sneak in a quick conversation with Max, Suzie, and Jane before Corroded Coffin starts their set. Max is finishing up her Masters in English literature at New York University, set to graduate in two months. Suzie programs for NASA, and though Florida is a far cry from her home state of Utah, she loves her job. And Jane is a social worker at a local adoption agency, the cause close to her heart, as she was adopted by Chief Hopper years ago.

“Damn,” you laugh, taking a small sip of your vodka soda. You’re having so much fun that you don’t even care that it’s been watered down. “You’re all such badasses!”

Your admiration of their collective girl power is cut short by the sound of Corroded Coffin taking the stage. It’s as though they’d never taken an extended break; just picked up right where they left off. You cheer so loudly that there’s a pinch in your throat, but you push past it. It’s more than applause. There’s so much tucked away in your yell: I’m proud of you; you’re a rockstar; you’re my person forever, if you’ll have me.

“Hello, Hawkins!” Eddie bellows into the mic. There’s no missing the grin on his face. He’s happy. He’s in his element. He’s where he belongs. 

“No way!” Lucas exclaims, awestruck as he turns to Will.

“Dude, you got Corroded Coffin?” Mike mirrors his friend’s excitement. He slings an arm around Will’s shoulder and pulls him in for a side hug. “This is fuckin’ awesome!”

“The first song of the night goes out to our guest of honor, Will Byers!” Everyone hoots and hollers as Eddie plays the opening chords to The Clash’s Should I Stay or Should I Go. Eddie told you he remembered that the song was one of Will’s favorites growing up; his older brother had gotten him into the band. Sure enough, Will’s bopping to the rhythm, singing every word, albeit quite off-key. 

Corroded Coffin plays a few more songs from their usual setlist, nerves dissipating with each note, before Eddie speaks into the mic again. 

“This next one is for my beautiful girlfriend,” he announces, eyes gazing into yours. “Baby, if my teachers looked like you, I actually would’ve gone to class.”

He nods at Gareth, who starts playing an incredibly complicated beat. As soon as you hear it, you feel your cheeks heat up. The rest of the guys join in on their own instruments, and Eddie oozes bravado as he sings. 

“T-Teacher stop that screamin’ Teacher don’t you see Don’t wanna be no uptown fool.”

Max leans in to you and whisper-shouts, “I’ve known Eddie for years, and I’ve never seen him so…happy.”

Lucas overhears his girlfriend and adds his two cents. “That’s because we’ve never seen him in love.”

Warmth spreads all over your body, but it’s not from embarrassment. Allowing yourself to believe that Eddie loves you—is in love with you—opens a door you’d deadbolted until the time was right.  You hadn’t wanted to rush things, but the jolt of exhilaration following Lucas’s statement means you can’t deny it any longer: you love Eddie Munson. You’re in love with Eddie Munson. 

“Got it bad, got it bad, got it bad I'm hot for teacher I've got it bad, so bad I'm hot for teacher.”

Will takes the opportunity to twirl you around, and you laugh as you spin amongst new friends, your drink threatening to spill over the sides as he turns you faster.

“Hey! Thank you, by the way!” he shouts, probably a bit louder than he needs to.

“For what?”

“For getting Corroded Coffin to play!” He jerks a thumb towards the stage, stumbling a bit as he does. He’d managed to sneak another tequila shot when his boyfriend left him unattended to use the restroom, and it definitely shows. “And for, like, being there for me.”

You give him a hug, immediately understanding the full implication of his statement. “I’ll always have your back,” you promise, filled with the mingled buzzes of alcohol and belonging.

“I think of all the education that I've missed But then my homework was never quite like this!”

Eddie jumps off of the tiny stage and into the crowd of nine twenty-somethings, each at various levels of tipsiness, and reaches for you to pull you close to him. He’s sweating from constantly moving around and the stage lights, his fingers slick with perspiration as he laces them with yours. Jeff picks up the rhythm for the lead guitar while Eddie kisses you, soft and slow and sensual. He loses himself for a moment before hopping back up to join the rest of the band.

As Corroded Coffin wraps up their Van Halen cover and stops for a quick sip of water, there’s a small commotion behind the bar.

“Is there a Jeff Reynolds here?” the bartender calls out, phone receiver in hand.

Jeff gives a little wave, eyebrows raised in surprise. “That’s me.”

“Someone named Jess on the line? Says your girl is in labor and you need to get to the hospital.”

“Holy shit!” Danny claps a hand to Jeff’s back and grins. “C’mon, man! Let’s get you outta here!” 

Jeff freezes up; hands clammy as he grips the guitar’s neck. “Can you drive?” he asks Eddie. 

Eddie recognizes the fear in his friend’s voice. The selfish part of him wants to refuse to take Jeff to Hawkins General. He could easily plant his feet on the stage and keep playing, claiming that ‘the show must go on.’

No, he silently chastises himself, Jeff needs me. He needs me and I’ll be damned if I let him down again. 

“Of course,” Eddie says, trying to force a relaxed disposition. It doesn’t matter; Jeff is too overwhelmed to notice the obvious effort. 

“Take my car,” you offer, keys already dangling from your fingertips. “Eds, I can take yours and pick up Harris from Wayne’s tomorrow.” It’s easier to swap rides than to uninstall and reinstall the carseat, so you’re perplexed when Eddie shakes his head. 

Two words slip through his lips, soft but pronounced: “Need you.” 

Dustin catches wind of the situation and insists on watching Harris until you and Eddie can come back home, claiming he needs to squeeze in as much uncle-nephew bonding time as possible before returning to Florida. 

“Henderson, it’s late; don’t let him stay up,” Eddie warns as he tosses over his car keys. 

Dustin tries catching them in one hand, but they hit the center of his palm and fall to the ground. “But the best part of being an uncle is breaking the rules!” he laughs as he scoops the keys off of the floor. “By the way, I’m not drunk; just a shit baseball player.” Still, Eddie’s sigh of relief is audible when Suzie plucks the keyring from Dustin’s hand. 

With Harris taken care of, you turn your attention to your boyfriend. Eddie’s face is flushed pale, and you’re worried about him behind the wheel. “Want me to drive?” 

He nods and grabs onto your hand as you lead the two men to your car. Eddie’s doing his best to keep Jeff calm, reminding him that the doctors and nurses have everything under control until he gets there. 

“I’m gonna be a dad,” Jeff murmurs, a disbelieving chuckle permeating the otherwise silent car. “Holy shit.”

Eddie can’t help but smile back. “It only gets crazier from here.”

The bright lights of the hospital’s waiting room are anything but soothing, especially compared to the dimly-lit bar you’d just left. You speak to the receptionist, an older woman with a tired smile and red-rouged cheeks, explaining the situation as she pages Jess while Jeff and Eddie take a seat. 

Jeff’s voice is nearly impossible to hear despite the stillness of the room. “The baby was breech at Viv’s last appointment.” He clocks Eddie’s confusion and elaborates. “Feet first, instead of the head. If they didn’t get into the right position and the doctors can’t, I dunno, flip ‘em around? They’ll have to do a c-section.” Long overdue tears spill over his lash line, and he makes no attempt to swipe them away. “I just wanna fix it and I can’t.”

Helplessness. It’s a feeling Eddie knows all too well. He spins a ring around his finger, exhaling softly as he considers a response. He can’t say it’ll be alright, because he has no idea whether or not it will be. He and Jeff both know that. 

“No matter what, I’m here for you.” Eddie’s gaze flits over to the receptionist’s desk, where Jess has now arrived and is waving her brother-in-law over. “You’re up.”

But Jeff remains in his chair, hands shoved under his thighs as though they’re glued to the seat. “I…I don’t know if I can do this. What if something happens to Viv or the baby? How can I…?” He doesn’t allow himself to complete the sentence, to finish the thought.

Instinctively, Eddie puts his hands on Jeff’s shoulders. He can feel them trembling slightly as his friend heaves another shaky breath. “Listen to me. You’re gonna do this. You’re gonna go in that room and watch your girl give birth to your baby. Because if you don’t, you’re gonna regret it for the rest of your fuckin’ life.” He glances around and lowers his voice. “I know you’re scared, okay? I get it. And once your kid is safely here, we can talk about it. But right now, you need to pull it together and go be a goddamn dad.”

Jeff nods, finally acquiring the physical stability to stand. “Thank you,” he whispers, clearing his throat and wiping the wet stains from his cheeks. He starts towards Jess before turning back to Eddie. “Could you stay until the baby’s born? If you have to get home to Harris, I understand…”

There it is: his out. He can easily use his son as an excuse, despite the fact that Dustin and Suzie were perfectly capable of babysitting him. He can hightail it out of here and never look back. He can crawl into bed and feel sorry for himself for having to step foot in a godforsaken maternity ward again.

“Yeah. I can stay.”

Nearly an hour passes with Eddie’s head resting on your shoulder, relaying what Jeff told him. Identical knots form in your stomachs as the seriousness of the complications sets in. You don’t say a word as he speaks; you just try to shift without disturbing him. The cushion on the chair back, worn thin, digs into you uncomfortably, but you don’t dare move too much. His vulnerability is a deer that will scamper away at the slightest startle.

You think he’s fallen asleep until you feel his soft lips on your cheek, a muffled, “mine?” against your skin. You note his phrasing; it’s careful and unsure, a symptom of being in his own head for far too long. 

“Of course I’m yours,” you whisper back, pressing a kiss to his scalp. “What’s got you asking such silly questions?”

“I don’t like this.” It’s an answer and non-answer all in one. 

“Being in a hospital?”

He shakes his head, frizzed curls tickling the crook of your neck. His forehead is sticky with cooled perspiration. “Waiting to see if the baby is okay.”

The realization hits you like a punch to the stomach, immediately hollowing you out. The last time he went through this, it was when Harris was being born. You can’t think of anything to say, so you just nuzzle in closer to him and exhale.

“Why do I feel like this?” Neither of you are sure if he’s asking you, himself, or the universe. “‘S not the same. Viv’s not using drugs; Jeff stuck around the whole time…”

“Doesn’t matter. That’s not how this stuff works, y’know?” You adjust your position so you can look into his eyes. The whites are stained red with worry and exhaustion. “Your gig got interrupted, just like when Harris was born. And there's uncertainty now, too. It’s normal for these kinds of memories to get dredged up.” Your palm rests on his cheek, thumb gently stroking the skin as you ask, “can you try to get some sleep?”

“But what if Jeff needs—”

“I’ll wake you up if he needs you,” you reassure him, settling back into the chair. You lean your head against the wall; the heaviness in your eyelids battles the anxious fluttering in your stomach, but it seems as though sleep is winning. 

Eddie’s hand finds your forearm, rubbing up and down the gooseflesh that has appeared courtesy of the air conditioning blasting through the building. Shrugging off his jacket and resting the leather fabric over your shoulders, he can relax once he’s reassured that you’re comfortable. He assumes his previous position, using your shoulder as a pillow and falling asleep gradually, body jostling itself awake from the unfamiliar sleeping arrangement. Eventually, you can hear his soft snores; for the first time tonight, he’s peaceful. 

You could tell him now, a whisper under your breath that he’s unlikely to hear. I love you, Eddie. I’m in love with you. Your lips part in anticipation, but you snap them shut. You’re delirious and overwhelmed; Lucas’s throwaway comment about Eddie being in love is rattling around your brain. If you say it and Eddie hears you…

You keep it to yourself for now, letting your body rest while still supporting Eddie’s head. Tomorrow is a new day, with a new life brought into the world. Love—if that’s even what this is—will have to wait until then. 

The soft pink of breaking daylight streams through the windows when Jeff wakes Eddie up six hours later, shaking him by the shoulders. 

“What the fuck?” Eddie grumbles, wiping the sleep from his eyes. When he registers where he is and the potential urgency of the situation, he sits up straight, head filling with fuzziness from the sudden movement. He wouldn’t call the evening restful, but he’d managed to doze off for longer than he’d expected.

“It’s a girl!” Jeff announces, beaming from ear to ear. He’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, bursting with enthusiasm and emotion. 

As soon as Eddie’s vision clears, he’s on his feet and pulling his best friend in for a giant hug. When he steps back, he realizes that he and Jeff sport matching misty eyes. “Dude, you’re officially a dad now. You have a daughter!”

“I have a daughter,” Jeff repeats incredulously. His eyes cloud with tears, and he blinks them away as he peers over at the empty seat next to Eddie. “Did your lady go home?”

Eddie swivels around, so caught up in the moment that he hadn’t realized he was alone. She left. She left without me; she didn’t want to stick around and deal with–

“Did Viv have the baby?” Your excited voice penetrates through his intrusive thoughts as you stroll in from the hallway. The makeup around your eyes is smudged; you’d tried to wipe some of it off in the bathroom, but water and thin hospital paper towels are no substitute for makeup wipes. “Sorry, I had to pee.”

Eddie smiles at the sight of you, still wearing his jacket. He hopes his sigh of relief is concealed by Jeff’s exuberance. “A girl. Six pounds, ten ounces.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Wanna meet her?”

“Of course!” You and Eddie begin following him down the corridor. “Wait, is Viv feeling up to having visitors?” You’re mildly ashamed to admit that, in your eagerness, you’d forgotten about the baby being breech and the possible c-section.

Jeff nods. “I think my daughter’s gonna be a gymnast, ‘cause she’d flipped herself back around between the appointment and last night.” 

There’s no masking Jeff’s pride when he says my daughter, and it makes Eddie want to hug him again. “That’s amazing,” he murmurs. There’s a small pang in his heart, a bead of resentment that Harris’s birth didn’t go so smoothly, but it’s unimportant right now. His best friend just became a father, and he refuses to let his own hang-ups take away from this moment. 

“Hi,” you whisper when Jeff opens the door to room 1007. Viv is propped up against pillows, exhausted but happier than she’s ever been before. Your gaze is immediately drawn to the hours-old bundle in her arms. “How are you?”

“Sore,” she replies truthfully, brushing her forefinger against her baby’s closed fist, “but the epidural was a lifesaver.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you tease, unaware that your words have Eddie’s heart skipping a beat at the idea of you bearing a little Munson. “Is it okay if I hold her?” You don’t want to intrude on the new mother’s bonding time, but your insides turn to mush when the baby opens her tiny lips and yawns. 

Viv carefully places the newborn in your arms, and you gingerly adjust to support her head. Eddie swears that you holding a baby, in that dress, wearing his jacket, is the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. “Did Jeff tell you her name?” Viv asks, stifling a yawn. When you and Eddie both shake your heads, she smiles and glances at her partner. 

He clears his throat, suddenly bashful. Eddie forces himself to tear his gaze from the way you smile and coo at the baby and look over at Jeff. “Her name is Nicolette,” he starts, “but that’s a big name for a little girl, so we figured we can call her Ettie, and she’ll kinda…share a nickname with you.”

Eddie’s eyes go wide, convinced he heard incorrectly. “You…I’m her namesake?”

“Mhm,” Jeff confirms, the grin never leaving his face. What neither you nor Eddie know is that they had had a different name picked out, and had fully intended on using it until the first time Jeff held their daughter. It filled him with a feeling of wholeness, of being complete, and it strangely had him thinking of his best friend. Without Eddie taking him under his wing, he might not even be here to experience this. 

It was only by chance that he had stumbled upon Hellfire Club during his freshman year. He was running from Billy Hargrove and his posse, who were determined to beat the hell out of him simply because they could, and had ducked into the drama room to protect himself. Eddie had taken one look at his face and immediately recognized the expression of fear and defeat from being incessantly bullied. “You know how to play Dungeons & Dragons?” he’d asked, and when Jeff had managed a nod, he’d pulled up a chair and motioned for him to sit down.

Being Eddie’s friend, being part of something, gave him a reason to keep going. To live. And in that instant, he vowed to teach his child to extend kindness toward any misfits who need a place to be themselves.

“What about Nicolette?” he’d asked Viv. “Ettie for short.”

You turn to Eddie now, continuing the steady rocking rhythm that keeps Baby Ettie calm. “What do you say, Mr. Namesake? Wanna hold her?”

There’s a brief flash of panic that floods through his veins; he hasn’t held a newborn since Harris. He’d always worried about dropping him or tripping and falling. Truth be told, he was terrified until his son could hold his own head up.

It’s similar, but not the same, he reminds himself, shuffling even closer to you so you can safely transition Ettie into his arms. She stirs slightly in her swaddle but doesn’t cry.

“Hey, little lady,” he says, a delicate smile dancing on his lips. “I’m your Uncle Eddie. The coolest uncle you’ll ever have, for the record.”

“Harris is gonna love her,” you add, heart swelling at the imagery of him cuddling up to his newest cousin.

“Babe?” Viv pipes up from the bed. “Can you grab me something to eat? ‘M starving.” 

“Yeah, of course.” Jeff turns to Eddie. “Come with me? I think Viv needs to feed Ettie, anyway.”

Viv extends her arms and Eddie begrudgingly hands the baby to her. Ettie’s so adorable and small, and it makes him yearn for the days when Harris was that little. Maybe not the sleepless nights or the lack of head control, but the scent of baby powder, the toothless smiles, the way he would fall asleep in Eddie’s arms to whatever song happened to be on the radio. Harris Munson might have been the only infant to be soothed by Twisted Sister. 

The two men make their way to the hospital cafeteria, sneakers squeaking along the freshly-waxed linoleum tiles.

“I, um, I’m really proud of the way you stepped up for Viv,” Eddie says, eyes trained on the floor. “You’re a great partner. I feel like I should be taking notes.”

Jeff laughs, shaking his head. “That's where my expertise ends. I have no idea how this whole fatherhood thing works.” 

“Wanna hear a secret?” Eddie leans in, shifting his weight onto one foot. He doesn’t wait for his friend’s response to divulge, “none of us do. We’re just…” he waves his hand aimlessly, “…figuring it out as we go.” And making plenty of mistakes along the way, he silently adds.

“I don’t know how you did this alone,” Jeff puffs out an incredulous breath. “I mean, I know you had Wayne’s help…” he trails off, not needing to further elaborate on the missing parent. 

“Yeah, me either, man. I’m just glad I’m not alone anymore.” 

Jeff stops walking, turning to face him. There’s the unmistakable look of pride that manages to make itself prominent despite his evident exhaustion as he says, “You really want this with her, don’t you?”

“Yeah, man,” Eddie chuckles. “It’s like, for the first time, I’m not just thinking about just me or just Harris. I’m thinking about us as a family.” The dinnertime conversations, the gentle ribbings, the tenderness that seamlessly weaves itself into vulnerable conversations. 

“She’s good for you,” Jeff agrees. “And you love her.”

“I mean, I—”

“That was a statement, not a question. You love her.”

And in a single breath, Eddie lets go of the fear he’s been clutching to like a life preserver. The one thing he hasn’t allowed himself to say aloud because it makes it so real, so fucking real.

“I love her.”

--

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

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[a-book-of-creatures]

Posting this because I reblogged something about Usborne Books and apparently most people seem to associate Usborne with lift-the-flap books for preschoolers.

Which is weird because to me as a child Usborne books were some of the spookiest books I could get my hands on. They filled the same place as Dorling Kindersley - colorful, creative, informative books that were educational as well as fun to read. And their approach to myths and legends was, not going to lie, very formative for me. If it wasnt' for Usborne, there might not have been ABC.

And much like Dorling Kindersley, Usborne went through a phase of extreme creative experimentation before stagnating into safer forms of publishing. But for a while, Usborne books were mindblowing.

So what has Usborne done then that aren't lift-the-flap books for preschoolers? Well, a lot. Puzzle Adventures. Extreme map and code puzzles. How to Draw Books. Cut-out and build houses, Trojan horses, and dinosaurs (by Luis Rey no less). How to Be A Detective. Nature spotter's guides. Nature Search books. Facts and Lists books that instilled cosmic horror in me years before I knew what cosmic horror was. I could go on forever.

There was a series of excellent myths and legends books which I posted about before.

These were illustrated by Rodney Matthews and were every bit as metal as you'd expect from something by Rodney frickin' Matthews.

Then there were the Quest books which were Where's Waldo-esque books that followed a storyline in a fantasy world.

In this case, they showcased lush art by Nick Harris in which you find various items or characters to make the story progress, as well as other random things (find 10 rats, find 8 clownfishes, etc).

The Tabloid Histories books, oh my gosh.

Egyptian, Greek, Roman, Medieval, etc. history told through tabloid articles and ads.

More about monsters though! There were books about folktales and legends illustrated by Stephen Cartwright.

For me it was my first time hearing of a lot of them, such as the Lambton Worm!

The Haunted World, now that was spooky! With lots of colorful, dripping art by Graham Humphreys.

Introduced me to a lot of ghosts, vampires, and monsters from around the world. Such as the story of Arnold Paole!

And there were maps and diagrams...

... and lindorns [sic] and mokele-mbembes!

The Supernatural Guides had denser text but sadly have not been reprinted anytime recently.

The World of the Unknown series, though... ohohoho those were good.

Of course (no offense to fans of ghosts and UFOs), I had eyes only for the Monsters book. With such gems as the Velue...

... the Lambton Worm...

... and cryptozoological rubbish such as the Monongahela sea serpent (below), the Loch Ness Monster, the Abominable Snowman, and their ilk.

You know, the sort of thing that would keep a 7-year-old fascinated (and perhaps scared under the blankets) for weeks.

Anyway, yeah I just really love Usborne books. Or at least what they used to be.

[spectersgirl]

what if harvey specter’s wife worked from home and has a last minute work emergency, so harvey had to take their daughter to work? hope that made sense 😭.

I loved this prompt! I changed it eeeever so slightly but it doesn't affect the overall product. I'm working on making these longer which does mean that it'll take me longer between posts but I'm hoping length makes up for it?? Or maybe this is too long. Idk. I've been writing it for daysssss. I think I don't love the end quarter or so, but I wanted to get it out there. Also I decided to name the daughter, I'm not sure how I feel about doing that versus just using Y/D/N so let me know what you all think? I'd use a different name each time I wrote something with a daughter in it so that it doesn't feel like a series or the same character in different universes.

-----

Work with Dad

Harvey Specter x Reader (except you're barely in it lol)

You rolled over at the sound of your phone buzzing incessantly on the nightstand, fumbling for it and answering sleepily.

"Hello? Oh shit, okay I'm on my way." Immediately, you got up and began rushing around to get ready.

"Who's that?" Harvey mumbled, having woken up to your call.

"Work, there's an emergency and I have to go take care of it. I know you have to work but, I can't take Olivia with me to the restaurant and my parents work today... Do you think you could bring her with you?"

Harvey sighed, knowing you were right. It would be easier for him to bring the four-year-old with him to his office as opposed to the very high-end restaurant you ran. Normally on the days you worked away from the house Olivia was in preschool, but today wasn't a school day for her.

"Yeah, that's fine. I have a pretty easy day today, and it's been a while since she's seen everyone anyway." He said, getting out of bed himself and heading to take a shower.

You quickly yelled to him before you left, thanking him for taking one for the team.

Once Harvey finished his shower, he pulled a suit from the closet and put the dress shirt and pants on, opting to leave his suit jacket off for now, knowing he'd likely have to do some wrangling of a certain toddler. As he had this thought, tiny footsteps sounded down the hall toward the bedroom.

"Hi Daddy" Said the tiny voice of his daughter as she ran toward him, arms in the air.

"Good morning princess! How'd you sleep?" He asked, lifting her with ease and kissing her cheek.

"Good, where's Mama?" She asked, knowing the two of you normally got ready together each morning. She was pretty damn smart for her age, and Harvey knew this fact would get him into trouble someday.

"Mama had to go take care of something at work, but guess what? You get to spend the day with Daddy at the firm!" He told her excitedly, raising his eyebrows.

Olivia was hesitant at first, she didn't know exactly what it was that her dad did every day, but she saw him on his computer a lot, and that didn't seem very exciting to her. She was about to protest this, but then she remembered some of her most favorite people worked with her dad.

"Can we see Mike and Rachel?" She asked.

Harvey laughed, nodding.

"And Donna?"

"And Donna." He confirmed with a smile. "You wanna get dressed so we can go see them?"

Immediately, she began squirming to get down from his grasp. Harvey obliged, following the girl to her room to help her pick out an outfit. She eventually elected for her favorite pink dress with flowers, and Harvey approved, finding her a pair of shoes to match.

A short while later, Harvey and Olivia were headed up to the Pearson Specter offices. She couldn't stop talking about how excited she was to see everyone, and Harvey had to keep reminding her that they had work to do and that they might not be able to be with her as much as she had hoped. Harvey had packed a day's worth of activities in a backpack to keep the little girl occupied in his office, and hopefully out of everyone else's business.

The elevator doors opened, and Olivia nearly pulled Harvey's arm out of the socket trying to get to her favorite people as fast as she could. He scooped her up into his arms, foiling her plans. She adorably crossed her arms in frustration, making Harvey chuckle as he walked toward his office.

"We just have to drop our stuff off in Dad's office first, then we can go see your friends, okay baby?"

She agreed, understanding that the quicker she cooperated, the quicker she got what she wanted.

Harvey put all their stuff down in a small pile on the couch in his office, telling himself he'd deal with it later. He knew Donna wouldn't be in for a little longer as he was earlier today than he normally was, but Mike and Rachel were more than likely already hard at work.

"Alright princess, wanna go see Mike?"

Her eyes went so wide Harvey thought they'd pop out of her head. He laughed and opened his door, pointing down the hall and following as she ran ahead of him. She nearly missed his door she was going so fast, but stopped herself when she noticed him seated at his desk.

"Knock before you go in, Liv" Harvey reminded the girl, grinning when her tiny fist tapped the glass of Mike's office door.

He looked up, not seeing her at first and waving Harvey in and looking back down at his stack of papers.

"You're in early, something wrong?" "MIKE!!!" Olivia yelled, startling the junior partner before realizing what was going on.

"Livi! How's my favorite Specter?" He asked, getting out of his chair to lift her into a bear hug.

She giggled uncontrollably until he set her back down.

"Well, I'd be offended but she happens to be pretty cool, so I'll let you have that." Harvey said, grinning as he watched his daughter run in circles around Mike's office while he chased her. There wasn’t much space in the junior partner's office, so the chase didn’t last very long.

"Where's Rachel?" Olivia wondered out loud. Mike kneeled down to her level.

"Rachel has school in the mornings, so she won't be here for a little bit longer." Mike explained, but this only confused her further.

"But... isn't Rachel a grown-up?" She asked, making Harvey and Mike smile.

"She's in law school, baby. Some grown-ups go to extra school so they can do their special jobs. Daddy went to law school too, and Mama went to business school and cooking school." Harvey explained.

“Did Mike to go extra school?” Olivia asked

Harvey and Mike share a look before looking back at Olivia.

“Mike’s a long story.” Harvey said.

Olivia seemed to be satisfied, or she stopped caring about his answer. Either way, she nodded and continued laughing and playing with Mike while her dad stood off to the side, only a little offended that she hardly even remembered he was still standing there.

He looked down at his watch, noting the time and figuring Donna was probably at her desk by now.

"Liv, do you want to go see if we can find Donna?" Harvey asked, and the little girl screamed like she was at a Taylor Swift show, jumping up and down with pure glee.

"Did she get this excited to see me?" Mike asked. Harvey chuckled, shaking his head.

"Not even close, sorry Mike. C'mon kid, let's go" Harvey said, lifting Olivia high in the air and onto his shoulders, holding tightly as he walked.

"Oh Donna, I have a surprise for you," Harvey said over the sounds of his daughter's laughter.

"Well, I wonder what the surprise could be! Hmmm, is it a pony? Oh a pony wouldn’t fit in the elevator… Maybe you should give me a hint." She said facetiously, acting as if she had no idea Olivia was there.

"It's me!" Olivia yelled, unable to keep the ‘surprise’ of her presence in any longer.

"Oh it’s Olivia! Hi beautiful! That’s a way better surprise than a pony!" Donna exclaimed. "How'd you get so lucky to come to work with your dad?"

"Her mama had a work emergency so daddy got to take her in with him, huh Liv?" Harvey explained, and Donna nodded in understanding.

Olivia nodded, smiling down at both Donna and her dad, still up high on his shoulders. She reached her arms toward Donna, so Harvey lowered her to the floor. Donna quickly scooped her up and placed her on her hip, giving the girl hugs and exaggerated cheek kisses.

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, who let you get so big?”

Olivia pointed at Harvey, smiling happily.

“Umm no ma’am, I specifically told you to stop growing, if it were up to me you’d still be my tiny little baby.” Harvey said, poking her side playfully. She giggled, pushing his hands away with her tiny ones.

"Have you had fun so far Livi?" Donna asked, and Olivia smiled and nodded profusely.

"I ran down the hall soooo fast and Mike chased me in his office and then me and Daddy found you!"

"Wow Olivia! That sounds like a really cool morning!" A voice said from behind. Everyone turned to see none other than Jessica strutting down the hall.

Harvey knew Jessica wouldn’t particularly love the idea of his four year old daughter hanging around in his office all day, but he also knew there was nothing else he could do. He was a parent above anything else, so he was going to do what he had to do.

“Livi, do you remember Jessica?” Harvey asked.

Olivia nodded, a bright smile on her face.

“It’s great to see you again cutie” Jessica said with a smile of her own.

“Look I know you’re probably mad but-“

“Harvey relax, I’m not mad. Just as long as she doesn’t get into anything she shouldn’t, she's welcome here." Jessica stated, easing Harvey's mind. He nodded in understanding and watched as she walked back to her office.

"Alright Liv, I've got some work to do in my office and I brought you some fun stuff to do while I work. Maybe later we can come back out and see Donna if she's not too busy, alright?"

Olivia huffed in disappointment, but she knew better than to fight with her dad. He placed his hands out to grab her from Donna, who regrettably handed her over. She had known the little girl since before she was even born, and she loved her like she was her own blood.

Harvey was actually able to get some work done, and Olivia enjoyed her time coloring in her coloring books and playing with the toys her dad had packed for her. Soon enough, she was hungry for lunch and Harvey took her into the kitchen to retrieve the lunchable he had brought her. Eventually, she grew tired and ready for her nap. When Harvey looked over at his couch after a suspiciously long period of silence, he saw her fast asleep. He smiled, standing and taking his suit jacket off, draping it over her small frame. She napped this way for about an hour, and when she woke up, she was overjoyed to learn that Rachel had finally come to the office.

"Rachel!!!" Olivia yelled in the doorway of Rachel's office, and she was quick to run in for a hug.

"Livi! Hi cutie! I heard you were here today, I couldn't wait to get done with school so I could see you!" Rachel said as she scooped the little girl up for a big hug. Olivia wrapped her arms around Rachel's neck happily.

"Do you have fun at big girl school?" Olivia asked.

"Law school is very different from normal school, so it's a lot harder, but it's what I love doing so that makes it fun!" Rachel explained.

"Do you get to color there?"

"No, theres no coloring. There's lots of reading and talking to other students and learning though!"

"I think I like my school better, we get to color and play and sing!"

This made Rachel laugh, and nod her head.

"Keep it that way as long as you can girly." Rachel said.

"Liv, it's almost time to go home. You wanna come say goodbye to everyone?" Harvey interrupted from the doorway.

Olivia nodded sadly, crossing the room to take her father's outstretched hand.

"Bye Rachel, have fun in big girl school."

"I will, bye Livi"

Harvey led her back through the office, stopping at everyone's offices so she could say her goodbyes, stopping at Donna's desk last. She gave the red-haired woman the biggest hug she could, Donna was her most favorite person after all.

When Olivia got home, she was thrilled to find her mom was there waiting for her and Harvey with dinner in the oven. She couldn't resist telling her mother about every last detail of her thrilling day at her dad's job.

"Well that's exciting! It sounds like you were a good little employee for daddy" You mused, looking up at Harvey with a grin.

"She's the best damn paralegal I've ever had. Might just have to hire her" Harvey joked.

"Does that mean I have to go to big girl school? That sounds really not fun."

You and Harvey laughed.

"Baby, if you don't want to go to big girl school we can talk about that when you're older." You reassured.

"You think with that attitude she has she won't want to be a lawyer like her old man?" Harvey said, smirking.

"Oh, she'll want to be in debate before she hits high school."

[storm-angel989]

Butterflies (Valentino x Preschool Reader)

Valentino leaned back on the couch as he watched the night’s news. Not that there was anything playing that he wasn’t already aware of, but he watched out of habit anyway. With his wife away, and Vox and Velvette working, it was nice to have a moment of quiet to himself. The chance to lay on the couch and just be. 

But having a three year old, that luxury never lasted long. 

“Papi?” her soft voice came from the hallway. “Daddy?”

“I’m right here babydoll. Come to the couch,” he replied as he sat up. He opened his arms and she crawled right into him. He settled her against him and stroked her hair.  “Bebita, you should be asleep. You have your first day of school tomorrow, remember? ”

She responded by snuggling into him and he laid back down with her, cradling her tiny body to his. She settled her head just below his ribcage and closed her eyes. He gently rubbed her back and pulled a blanket over them both. With any luck, she’d be asleep in a few moments. 

“Daddy?” she asked a few moments later. “Your tummy is grumbly.”

He sighed, “go to sleep, bebita. Daddy is fine.” 

She was quiet for a moment. “Does your tummy hurt?”

Her words sent alarm bells ringing through his head. He frowned and looked down at her. “No. Does your tummy hurt?”

She nodded. Now he understood. The real reason she was out of bed at ten at night. He gently sat her upright on him. “Bebita, show Daddy where it hurts.” 

She pointed to her belly button and he laid his hand on her tummy. She didn’t flinch away from his touch- that was a good sign. He moved his hand up to her forehead. No temperature. And her coloring was good. She didn’t have the expression she made before she threw up. His mind raced as he tried to think of what could cause her bellyache.

“Does your tummy feel hungry?” He asked.

She shook her head no. 

“Does your tummy feel like it’s going to be sick?”

She again shook her head no. 

He tried to think of anything else that might cause a tummy ache. Suddenly, the thought hit him. 

“Baby? Does it feel like you have butterflies in your tummy?” 

She looked at him in confusion and he tried to explain. 

“Are you worried about starting school?” he asked as he laid her back down against him. “Sometimes when we feel worried or scared, our tummies feel funny. They don’t hurt but there is a different feeling inside us, and it can be a little uncomfortable. Almost like…” 

The Overlord of Drugs and Depravity struggled to find the right words to explain anxiety to his three year old daughter. 

“Almost like we swallowed butterflies. And we feel their little wings fluttering in our tummies. Right here.” He put his hand on his own stomach.  “Sometimes our tummy also feels tight, like a knot. Do either of these sound like the feeling in your tummy right now?”

To his relief she nodded. Alright, this was something he could handle. 

“Daddy feels that way sometimes too,” he said gently. “It’s okay, I promise you- it's normal to be a little scared. But I know you’re going to have so much fun tomorrow, and meet so many new friends.”

To his surprise, she broke out into a sob.

 “But Daddy, I don’t wanna live somewhere else!” She blurted out before he could comfort her further. “I wanna live at home!” 

He sat straight up and sat her up so that she was looking at him.  “Sweet baby girl, is that what you think preschool is?” 

She nodded and he gently wiped at the tears in her eyes. 

“Oh sweetheart, no.  Remember the stories your Auntie Vel and Uncle Vox read to you before bed tonight? The little girl gets picked up by her Mommy at the end of the story, right?

“But Mommy isn’t here, Daddy, so how will I get home?” She hiccuped. 

He held her tighter to him and he could feel the guilt wash over him. No wonder she couldn’t sleep. Silently, he cursed the circumstances that kept his wife away from them. 

“Bebita, Daddy will pick you up. You’ll come home after school, I promise. And then we’ll have dinner and you can tell us all about the fun you had during the day.” He kissed her forehead. “You’re not going to stay there forever, mi amore. I promise. And if you ever need Daddy or Mommy or Auntie or Uncle, how do you get ahold of us?”

“I press the button with your face on it on my watch,” she sniffled. “And then someone will come find me.”

He nodded, “that’s right bebita. That won’t change just because you’re in school, okay? Daddy will always come get you and bring you home, I promise. It’s going to be okay.” He kissed her forehead again  and lifted her into his arms as he carried her into the kitchen. “I know your tummy is nervous, so I’m going to make you something to help settle it okay?” 

She buried her face into his shoulder as he carried her. “No medicine, Daddy.”

“No, sweetheart, no medicine. I promise.” He said softly. “Just a warm baba to help you get to sleep, okay? Close your eyes while I make it. Daddy’s got you.” 

Valentino busied himself preparing her bottle- a task he was an expert in doing one handed and was certain he could do with his eyes closed. Against his shoulder, his daughter closed her eyes and stuck her fingers in her mouth. That’s it, bebita, he thought, settle yourself. You’re okay. 

By the time he sat back on the couch with her, she took all of two sucks of her bottle before he felt her breathing slow. Perfect. He set the bottle off to the side and laid down, settling her on his chest and covering them both with a blanket. Part of him wanted to take her back to her bed, but the other part wanted to keep his little girl safe in his arms, for just a little while longer.

After all, tomorrow was the start of a whole new adventure.

[etirabys]

Apologies if this is personal and you don't want to answer (or you don't want to answer for any other reason!); if that is the case no worries. But anyway by virtue of the fact that I am (sort of) a linguist I often get curious about people's language situation. You speak English obviously but spent your childhood in Korea, and often went to the English language book store while there? What is like, your personal linguistic history? Like, what language(s) did you grow up speaking, which ones did you learn later and when, etc? How fluent do you consider yourself in both English and Korean? If you don't mind my asking.

Haha, this is a dream scenario for me (someone asking about a situation I find fascinating about myself because I've never met anyone else with that background, but is probably boring to most people). Here's a longer story than you probably want:

My parents emigrated to the US before I was born, stayed for a decade, and moved back to Korea right after I was born. They're conversational in English, and my sister (12 years my elder) is fluent. Speaking English is valuable in Korea, so they raised me to be bilingual. They taught me the alphabet, bought me English language children's books, and sent me to an English language school run by Christian missionaries for preschool, kindergarten, and part of first grade.

My sister left the country when I was three to go to a boarding school in the US, but she came back every year for holidays, spoke exclusively in English to me, and refused to let the conversation move on if I mispronounced a word.

When I was six, my parents moved further away from the missionaries' school and switched me to a neighborhood public elementary school. At this point I was mildly more fluent in English than in Korean. Reading (English books) was a self-sustaining reaction I spent every free hour on. There were fewer interesting Korean books for children. Korea had industrialized ~30 years prior, and the hangeul writing system had only been in full use ~50 years at that point. As far as I knew, there was no CS Lewis of Korea, no Tolkien, no Diana Wynne Jones. In Korean bookstores, many of the prominent books on display were translated – The Little Prince was popular for children, and there was a children's fiction fad around another French author (who afaik never made a splash in the States) whose name I forget.

So I'm reading like 10 hours a day, at the dinner table, on the escalator when my mom takes me while she's shopping, sometimes under the desk at school flipping the pages with my toes, because the teachers don't care. (This is a huge W as far as I'm concerned for Korea – public school teaching is a somewhat competitive and standardized government job, it attracts people who lack great passion for either teaching or controlling children.) Meanwhile my peers don't like me much because my vibes are rancid: I have a compulsive laugh tic I haven't gotten under control, and I don't seem to understand their preferences very well or actively seek to understand them. Fair enough. I have one friend at any given time and she's usually on the fence about me.

When I'm old enough to take the train on my own, some weekends my mom gives me 5000 won for the train ticket + lunch, and I go into Seoul to visit one bookstore that has a 10-shelf English section. I pick a book, spend the day finishing it, and go home. Instead of my English language skills lapsing and being overtaken by the language I'm immersed in, I'm going deeper into English. Which increased the disconnect between me and my peers. I remember overhearing a conversation about an anime (The Black Cat) and eagerly asking if they'd also read the Edgar Allen Poe short story. I wanted to much to talk about shared interests, but it didn't occur to me to "invite myself into their interests" by picking up the manga they talked about.

...this all made my childhood weird in ways that have shaped me hugely but are difficult to describe. I was isolated and not, happy and not, stimulated and not, developing unevenly...

At eleven I discover fanfiction.net, probably one of the most impactful events of my life. I'm running out of physical books, I've read everything five or ten times, but then the computer! has made a deal with me! It contains INFINITE LITERATURE, although sometimes people seemed to misspell things on purpose and I didn't know why. (I had, approximately, never encountered misspellings in written material before.) In return the internet would take MY SOUL FOREVER although I didn't realize this at the time. I post a 100K Harry Potter epic over the next year where Harry is trained by a special assassin cult that lives under a mountain.

My parents have no idea what is on the internet. They're on a new temporal continent with no clue there's a parasite that can turn your daughter into a fujoshi. They do know that they have a worrying child. But! Her grades are really good, especially when she's testing in English. Good enough that although they originally intended not to send me to the US (my sister got depressed and burned out, and they attributed it to sending her to a different country for school), it made much more sense for me to go. I was on track to get a full ride at an Ivy, a carrot they were Not Immune to, and I obviously despised Korea and wanted to leave.

When I arrived in the States, I was terrified of speaking English to real native speakers. My language experience was "reading/writing: 95% English, speaking/listening: 90% Korean". I could perfectly pronounce any English sentence when I tried, but I'd occasionally and bizarrely mix up R and L, or the vowel sounds "ih" and "eeh" if I weren't paying attention. This went away after a year but I felt extra shy and didn't talk much. I'd guess 80% of my social cachet in freshman year came from writing funny Facebook posts.

I remember my time in Korea without feeling bothered by any single aspect, but overall I still have a big sense of "wow I didn't like that", have avoided non-Americanized Korean people since getting here (ten years ago), and now speak Korean haltingly. I'll try to teach it to my children so that they have the option of that cultural connection, but I don't think I can do a good job. It's feels 90% true thinking/speaking Korean is just a normal skill, a thing I do sometimes on the phone – and 10% true that the happier and more whole I become in the US, the more unsettling it feels to speak Korean at all.

[thesupernaturalhouse]

This started out as a funny snipper. How tf did it turn into a fanfic?? Also this took me so long anyways, pt3 of the accidental overlord vaggie fic

Alastor: shoves Vaggie between him and Rosie and drops Frank onto her lap

Vaggie: trying to process how tf a giant dragon got through an elevator among many other things

Carmilla: thank you for coming today. I've gathered you all here to talk about the millions of souls-

Vaggie squeaks so quiet no one hears her: I'm sorry fucking how many??....How- How do you check that?? Gets ignored

She's just squeezing poor frank like a stress toy

Carmilla ignores her: You own. And how their at risk with the new extermination schedule. And how we minimize the damage going to be caused by it.

Finally looking aorund the room

Carmilla: Zestial, so god to see you- ....Alastor?? And- eyes narrow the protective overlord

Alastor, leaning over to block vaggie form view because he's petty as fuck: hello! Yes yes, I know, I've been absent for a longgg time and I'm sure youre all DYING to knwo where I've been~

Carmilla:...no. not really, shrugs but welcome back anyways I suppose....I am interested about who you've brought though....

Vaggie: just staring out into space, regretting her life choices and trying to count how many people owe her 'favors'

Carmilla slgihtly concerned/unnerved: In any case, this year's extermination was brutadal. A good 16% of the population was killed off. With them coming back in only 6 months I think it prudent that we-

Velvette: just fucking kicks the door open Yeah, I've got it handled Vox? Are you doubting me? ME might I remind you? Yeah, no. That's what I thought. Yes, yes, I know, thank you V, see you later Okay, bye, kisses darling!

Carmilla: nice of you to finally join us, Velvette. Will you.....colleges? be joining us?

Velvette: What? No way. They have better shit to do than to listen to some old windbag who think she's tough shit! Haha, no. Immm here to represent!

Carmilla:...charming. now, back to what I was saying, we need to-

Velvette: waves her arm frantically

Camilla feeling like a preschool teacher: yes??

Velvette: well, on the topic of discussssss throws exorcists head down let's discuss

Alastor: oooo tasty!!

Vaggie: ohhhhh my god....whispering to herself is that Tuff?? Wtf- how??

Carmilla:......where...did you get this?

Velvette: doesn't matter. We found it, though. And if these angle fuckers can be killed, then the game of cat and mouse has changed, the boys and I have-

Vaggies distressed squeaking as Velvette continues, Zestial jsut slumps his tea

Velvette:....the fuck is wrong with you two?? Looks at vaggie leans downs to get closer....also you're new

Vaggie: uhhhhh......thank?? You??

Velvette: narrows eyes before her head snaps ti zestial

Zestial: we shouldn't go to war with such meger proof.

Velvette:...meger- MEGER PROOF!? ITS a dead fucking Exorcist!!! What more do you WANT!? A video of it being killed?? No- this is definitive proof- if you can't see that, maybe you're going blind old man.

Zestial: it may be dead but how? It could be by a demon, but mayhaps it died due to unrelated reasons

Vaggie: Well, angles have hurt their own kind. Wouldn't be suprised if killing was another option for them

Everyone's heads snap to her

Vaggie:.....did....I say that out loud?

Carmillas narrows her eyes: how do you know that.

Vaggie: I um...I....I saw it happening?

Velvette:....wait aren't you the princesses whore? What are you doing out if your bird cage hm?

Vaggie: I....what??

Carmilla shaking her head: we're getting off topic.

Zestial: Carmilla is right. If we rush to war the angles would purge all of the sinners for daring to even TRY an uprising

Overlords: muttering

Alastor: why don't we put it to a vote?

Vaggie: depends is one of the options 'can we all just go home pelase?'

Alastor: hmmm no!

Vaggie grumbling: I hate you.

Velvette narrows eyes: ohhh okay I see. Grandpa's to scared to make a move! So then there's no point in it huh?

*the respect less song which I am not writing*

Zeezi: pft, what the hell? we literally JUST got here!

odette:....mom??

Carmille:....meeting dismissed.

Vaggie: uh, does this mean we can go home?- gets glared at .....okay sits back down like a scolded kid as she thinks about wtf jsut happened

Vaggie to herself in a defeated tone:.....she never told me how to see how many souls I own.....how many people owe me favors?

Proceeds to try and calculate and count on her fingers and Alastor watches in amusement, after sending off frank, and Rosie watches slightly concerned as to wtf her friend did to this teenage child....and maybe also finding it a bit funny

Part 2 | Part 3(here!) | Part 4

[forever-rogue]

if i may. Dad!Nurse! Steve Harrington where his little girl is sick with the flu and crying for her dad to make it better and he does everything to help and is all worried and loving 🥺🥺

AN | Okay but no; nurse dad Steve to the rescue🥺 This can be read as a companion piece to the below but also as a stand alone!

Warnings | Mild Language

Pairing | Nurse!Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 3.3k

Masterlist | Steve, Main, Nurse Steve

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Steve Harrington could handle this. 

Totally. Absolutely. No doubt about it.

He worked in the ER and constantly handled a myriad of emergencies and situations that had him thinking and needing to use his wits and keep his cool. So…realistically he could handle just about anything.

But he was terrified of the idea of having to watch your daughter alone for the weekend. Despite his assurances that he could manage (he could kick himself for being so stupid), he suddenly felt so unsure and nervous. You had a weekend work conference to go to that would keep you aware for a whole two and half days. You’d been reluctant to leave your husband and your daughter, but he insisted that he’d manage, that he didn’t want you to miss out the conference. And so you’d accepted what he said and left. 

Now Steve was home alone with his four-year-old daughter. Fuck. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

He’d managed to survive the first alone without any issues. These were his days off, so he was able to be home and tend to the house along with his daughter. She’d been at preschool until the mid-afternoon, and once he’d picked her up the two of them were having fun. He really did adore his daughter, and more than anything he was nervous he’d somehow mess something up. He wouldn’t; you knew he wouldn’t - he was an amazing, doting, loving father. 

He’d even made her favorites for dinner, which currently consisted of dino nuggets and mac and cheese and the two of them watched a movie before it was her bed time. Things had gone off without a hitch; he was sure he could use that to his advantage when he asked about seriously trying for baby number two. Look honey, I kept her alive for three days all by myself - want to have that next baby? Yeah, something like that would work anyway. 

He was reading in bed, missing you and the late night conversations the two of you always had. But it wouldn’t be terrible - he could handle two nights on his own. Even if it really sucked. Any worry or self-pity he had was quickly wiped away when he heard the tiny knock at his bedroom door. He’d left it half open and looked up to find his daughter looking at him, the same big, soft brown eyes he had staring back at him.

“Daddy,” she poked her head into the room, looking at him nervously. Steve dogeared his page and put the book on his bedside table before motioning for her to come in. The small girl padded into the room and he instantly spotted the tear tracks on her cheeks as she sniffled.

“Camila,” he cooed softly, moving so he could easily pick her up. She ran the rest of the way over to him, throwing herself into his arms. He picked her up and settled her in his lap, tenderly wiping away the few remaining tears, “oh baby. What’s wrong, Cami girl?”

“I don’t feel good,” she pouted, her bottom lip trembling with effort as she tried not to cry again. She reminded him so much of you, how resilient and independent you were. She hated asking for help, wanting to do as much for herself as a four-year-old could, so he knew something was up if she was coming to him late at night when she should have been sleeping.

“Oh sweetheart,” he brushed a few rogue curls out of her face before kissing her chubby little cheeks, “what’s wrong? Why don’t you feel good?”

“My tummy hurts,” she frowned, “and I feel all cold, even with my blankies.”

As Steve listened to her, he placed his hand against her forehead and frowned when he felt how warm she was. He paused for a moment and inwardly groaned when he remembered that the flu was going around right. It usually disproportionately affected children, especially school age children. And here she was, going to preschool almost every day with a bunch of other kids. She’d had her flu shot, but there was only so much that would do and so many precautions they could take. 

“I’m sorry you’re not feeling well, my love,” he pulled her onto his chest so he could hold her properly. Cami buried her little face into the crook of his neck as he soothingly rubbed her back up and down, “I’ll take care of you, okay? Daddy’s got you.”

“Okay,” she sounded so feeble and meek that it broke his heart. He wished he was the one having to experience this, not his baby girl.

“I’m going to get up and get a few things, okay?” he whispered softly, “you can sleep in bed with me tonight, does that sound good?”

“Yeah,” he delicately moved her so she was on the side of the bed that you normally occupied, covering her with the soft blankets, “can you bring me Peter?”

Peter was the stuffed bunny that she’d had since the day she was born. She’d gotten it from her aunt Robin and loved it more than any other toy, “of course. I’ll be back in a few minutes, Camila.”

She murmured something, burrowing her face into the pillow, seeking some sort of relief. Steve looked at her for a moment and shook his head sadly; this was his baby girl and she was sick. He couldn’t do anything about it except try to make her feel better while she fought it off. 

He went down the hall to her bedroom and grabbed her bunny before stopping in the bathroom and grabbing a thermometer, some acetaminophen, and then made his way into the kitchen. He grabbed a few water bottles to bring with him but paused before leaving, staring at the phone. Before he thought too much of it, he grabbed the cordless headset and dialed the hotel room number you’d given him. He hoped you weren’t sleeping yet; he didn’t have to wake you on top of it all.

It rang a few times before he sighed in relief when he heard your soft voice, “hello?”

“Hi angel,” he ran a hand over his tired face, smiling when he heard your little sigh of happiness, “did I wake you honey?”

“Hey my love,” you’d only begin for the day but you already missed him and Camila more than you cared to admit, “I just got out of the shower. Stevie…I miss you.”

“I miss you more than you can ever know,” he admitted with a warm chuckle, “god, it’s been less than a day and I feel so lost without you.”

“I’ll be home soon,” you promised, your heart clenching softly at the realization of just how much you missed the two of them, “what’s wrong, love?”

“It’s Cami,” he admitted after a few moments of tangible silence, “she woke up and said she’s not feeling good. I think she’s got the flu, I was just about to take her temperature and see if I can make it so she can at least get some sleep.”

“Oh no,” your maternal instinct immediately ramped up; you wished you were home with the two of them, “poor little thing. Do you want-”

“No, no, no honey,” he immediately shook his head as if you were there, “I don’t want you to worry, or jump on a plane to come home. I just wanted to let you know, but I’ll take care of our baby.”

“I know you will,” you laughed softly, “I don’t think there’s anyone I’d trust more. If anything changes or you need me…let me know. I’ll be there in a heartbeat.”

“I’d expect nothing less,” he promised, “I also just wanted to hear your voice…”

“Such a sap, Stevie,” you teased, but honestly? You missed his - all of him - too. The two of you were such suckers for each other, “it’s not too much longer. I’ll let you go, okay? Try and get some rest, there’s no use worrying about something we can’t change - I know you’ll take good care of her. I love you both so much. Tell Cami I said hi, yeah?”

“Of course,” he promised softly, “I will. I love you too, honey. I’ll talk to you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” you confirmed, “good night, Stevie.”

He returned the sentiment before hanging up the phone and setting it down with a small sigh. He felt better after talking to you, but he still worried about his daughter; he was always a worrier. He couldn’t help it, it was just a part of who he was.

He gathered up the supplies he had gathered before heading back to his bedroom. When he quietly popped inside, he was relieved to see that Cami had fallen asleep. Even if it wasn’t for long, he wanted her to be able to get some rest. Steve placed Peter the bunny next to her so when she woke up she’d have him. The rest of his supplies went on the bedside table. 

He gently climbed back into bed, doing his best not to disturb the small girl and snuggled up next to her. Realistically he knew that he should be able to sleep just fine and she would wake him up if and when she needed him. He also knew that this would be a sleepless night for him. Camila had never really been sick before and while he was used to dealing with sick children at work, it felt different now that it was his daughter. It felt horrible. 

Exhaling softly, he tenderly brushed her hair out of her face before grabbing his book to read. Might as well do something with his time, right?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Daddy?” he’d noticed her stirring and was already prepared to give her his full attention. He glanced at the alarm clock and saw that it was nearing four in the morning. His poor baby girl. She turned around so she could look at him, her eyes dazy and face slightly flushed, “‘m thirsty, Daddy.”

“I’ve got some water for you, Cami girl,” he cracked the top of one of the water bottles before carefully handing it to her. She took it in both hands and chugged it down, finishing almost the entire bottle before Steve slowed her down, “slowly sweetheart, you don’t want to make your tummy ache from too much at once.”

“Okay,” she handed him back the bottle before she realized that Peter was next to her. She squealed in delight before grabbing the stuffed bunny and clutched it tightly to her chest, “you brought Peter!”

“He was missing you too,” he smiled gently at her, “can I take your temperature? And I’ve got something to help you feel a little better.”

“I’m cold,” she pouted as he grabbed the thermometer and stuck it in her mouth. She already knew the drill and had opened her mouth. Steve tutted at her lightly, already planning to grab her a few more blankets that should help. He pulled the thermometer out when it beeped and read the little screen. 101. A mild fever but nothing too bad, fortunately. 

“You’ve got a little bit of a fever,” he grabbed the acetaminophen and water bottle, “this will help and I’ll get you some more blankets today? I want you to rest and your fever should break soon.”

“I miss Mommy,” she pouted as he popped the medicine into her mouth and handed her the water to finish off. It wasn’t that she didn’t love Steve; oh no, she absolutely adored her father almost more than anything, but she loved you too. She was used to having both of you around. 

“Me too,” he agreed, “I talked to Mommy while you were sleeping and she said to tell you hello and that she loves you. But she’ll be home soon.”

“Good,” she gave him a firm little nod, “can we have dino nuggets later?”

He couldn’t help but laugh at her lightly before kissing the side of her head, “we’ll see, Cami. Right now I want you to try and get some sleep, okay? Once you’re up we can see about getting some nuggets and a nice warm bath.”

“Will you stay with me?” she looked at him with big, soft doe eyes and he nodded. As if there was anywhere he would rather be. 

“I will,” he helped to tuck her back under the covers, making sure Peter was with her, “I’m going to grab a few more blankets and I’ll be right back.”

She was already fast asleep by the time Steve made it back with a new load of blankets. He bundled her up as best as he could, hoping her fever would break soon. All he could do was keep an eye on her wait. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next two days passed in a much smoother manner than that first night. Cami was about to sleep off her fever and slowly began to feel better with each passing hour. Of course, it probably didn’t hurt that he was indulging her every whim and fancy to the best of his ability. He wouldn’t call his daughter spoiled…she just wasn’t told no very often. But on the flipside, she rarely asked for things and was always polite and kind to everyone. She was a good kid, after all.

But that didn’t mean that he wasn’t more than ready for you to come home. He was practically counting down the hours - you were too. You’d been a little sneaky and told him that you’d be home a few hours later than you really would be, wanting to come home and surprise the two of you. 

When you did, when you finally made it home and let yourself into the house as quietly as you could, you found the two of them at the kitchen table, eating exactly what you expected - man n cheese and dinosaur nuggets. It was such a simple but beautiful sight that melted your heart.

“Hello my loves,” you whispered as you set your bag down. Both of them turned to look at you, eyes widening in excitement before rushing over to you. 

“Mommy!” 

“Sweetheart,” felt a small pair of arms wrapped around your legs and another pair of arms around your shoulders as your two favorite people enveloped you with love, “you’re home early!”

“Surprise,” you leaned in and kissed him softly, wishing you could have more, more, more but remembering that your daughter was still right there. You’d have all the time with him later, “I love you.”

“I love you,” he whispered in return before picking up Cami and balancing her on his hip so she could get a kiss too. You brushed her rogue, wild curls out of her face before pressing big kisses to her cheeks.

“Hi Cami girl,” she looked so happy to see it that it made your heart melt, “I’m so glad you’re feeling better. Daddy took good care of you, huh?”

“Mhmm,” she grinned happily, “we even got to stay up and watch princess movies!”

“Oh you did, huh?” you looked at your husband, who gave you a sheepish smile accompanied with a shrug that said what can you do? You touched his cheek affectionately, “I’m glad you’re feeling better, my little love, and I’m glad you took such good care of her, my love.”

“Do you want some nuggies, Mommy?” she asked excitedly and you couldn’t turn down that adorable face, “we made lots!’

“I couldn’t think of anything better.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Steve was already in bed, eagerly waiting for you as you finished your little night time routine. He hadn’t realized just how much he’d miss just sleeping next to you. But then you appeared, all big smiles, soft eyes, and cozy pajamas that consisted of a pair of old shorts and one of his sweaters. It was easily his favorite sight in the entire world. 

“You’re so beautiful,” you playfully rolled your eyes before walking over to him, taking the outstretched hand that he offered you. He threaded your fingers together before pulling you into his lap. He leaned against the headboard as you straddled his waist and rested against his bent legs, “god, I missed you so much. And you were only gone for three days.”

“I missed you too,” you admitted, reaching over and gently tracing along some of his freckles. You liked mapping them out with your fingers, and even more so with your lips, “next time there’s a conference or anything that requires me to be gone, I’m bringing you both.”

“Same here,” he laughed softly, taking your hand and bringing your hand to his lips and reverently kissing your palm, “three days was too long.”

“But at least I know that the two of you are able to survive without me,” you teased and a pretty flush of pink rose up in his cheeks, “you did great, Stevie. Seriously.”

“I will admit that I was a little nervous,” he confessed quietly as you giggled at him, “it’s a lot of pressure taking care of a young, sick kid on your own!”

“I know,” you acknowledged, “but you did wonderfully.”

He hummed in content as the two of you looked at each all starred-eyed before exchanging soft, sweet kisses. He pulled back after a few moments and you could see that there was something on his mind. You tutted lightly before putting a finger under his chin and turning his face up to yours, “I’ve been thinking…”

“Uh oh..”

“Hey,” he gently squeezed your side as you squirmed in grasp, “Cami’s in preschool now, and we’ve discovered that I can manage a kid on my own for days…I-I guess I’m just kind of wondering what your thoughts are about trying for that second kid?”

Your face lit up and Steve took that as a good sign. You were silent for a moment before reaching for his hand and settling it on your tummy, “how about in like seven months?”

“Oh,” his eyebrows rose in confusion. It took him a second to process but he nodded; it was you that was doing all the hard work realistically. He could easily hold off on trying for a while, “okay, angel. We’ll start trying in the new year.”

“Stevie,” you were laughing now; he was so smart and so wonderful, but he was so oblivious at times, “I didn’t mean…waiting. I meant…how would you feel about meeting your new daughter or son in seven months?”

“I…what?” his mouth opened and closed a few times and then it hit him, “you’re pregnant?”

“Yeah,” you confirmed softly and his whole expression practically melted into heart eyes and a big lovesick smile, “I found out a few weeks ago…I’ve just been wanting for the perfect opportunity to tell you. And I guess now is as good of a time as any. Surprise, my love!”

“Wow,” he exhaled shakily before laughing you into his chest and kissing you softly, “what a perfect surprise. That’s…fuck, that’s wonderful. I love you so much. You, Cami, and the new baby.”

“Blob Harrington number two,” you teased, causing him to groan softly. You’d referred to Cami as Blob throughout most of your pregnancy because she just looks like a blob! He nudged his nose with his before brushing his lips over yours again, “I love you too, Steve. So, so much.”

“Oh my clumsy girl,” affectionate fondness laced his words, “I’m going to be thoroughly outnumbered. Three girls against me? Unfair.”

“How do you know it’s gonna be a girl?”

“I just know,” he insisted cheekily, “it’ll be a girl.”

“Oh,” you stook out your tongue at him, “wanna bet on it? I say it’s a boy.”

“You’re on,” he held out his hand, “it’s a girl. Terms of winning to be determined.”

“Just…don’t ruin it for yourself or me this time,” he had accidentally spilled the beans with Cami, not that you minded, “so no close looks for you at ultrasounds.”

“I’ll accept your terms,” he agreed as you shook his hand, “I love you, angel.”

“I love you more, Steve.”

“Impossible.”

[jungle-angel]

Morning Moon (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: Never smack a bull first thing in the morning

Warnings: Sex, SMUT (no minors allowed 18+ only), Rhett showing his naked ass to the world

Tagging: @floydsmuse @withahappyrefrain @rhettabbotts @sebsxphia @attapullman

You lay in your shared bed, you and Rhett still naked from the shenanigans of the night before and breathing in each other's scent. Outside it had grown warm, typical for May, but the early morning haze settling over the Abbott land. Amy had gone to have a sleepover at Joy and Martha's, her and Rosie able to run around and play with each other before their last day of preschool.

"Rhett?"

"Hmm?"

"S'fuckin hot in here," you mumbled, burrowing your face in the curve of his neck.

"Gimme a sec," he said.

Rhett gently moved you but you scooted over to his side of the bed. He was still naked, running his hands over his face and letting out an obscene groan as the light spilled in through the windows. When he rose up off the bed, there it was, Rhett's naked ass in all its morning glory.

*SMACK!*

"JEEZ WOMAN!!!!"

You could hardly contain your laughter, even as Rhett scrambled back into bed, pressing his weight on top of you. "What.......have I told ya'll.......about smackin my ass?" he growled in your ear, delivering a sound smack to your own rear.

You and Rhett went at it, laughing and giggling the whole entire time. He rammed his red hot shaft right into you, drawing one obscene moan after another out of you. His name fell off your lips with every moan, drawing him further and further into his high and causing the bed to shake, squeak and clatter against the bedroom wall.

When Rhett finally released himself into you, you both fell against each other, laughing and kissing. "Shit darlin ya'll are amazing," he chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your neck.

Your intimate little moment was suddenly interrupted by the sound of a bed in the other room clattering against the wall. Rhett made a face and turned bright red. "Oh my God are they......?"

"I hope not," Rhett said, faking a gagging noise.

He pounded a fist on the wall, loudly to the point where you were afraid he was going to put his fist through it. "Who the fuck is disturbin the peace?!" Royal bellowed on the other side of the wall.

"Your son, that's who!!"

"You wanna pipe down over there? You guys are bein kinda loud."

"Loud?!" Rhett bellowed. "Loud?! You wanna hear loud? I'll do ya one better and pray your ticker doesn't explode!"

"Then spin the wheel horny toad! Cause it's on like Donkey Kong!"

"Are you serious?" you whispered.

"Give it a few and we'll see," Rhett whispered back, kissing you.

****************************

"It's quiet over there, I don't like it," Royal remarked.

"You're the one who talked him into it," Cecelia told him.

"Sugar Bear, I did no such thing."

"Bullshit you didn't."

Royal rolled his eyes. "Hey where'd ya'll learn how to do that anyways?"

"In the back of YOUR old '76 Firebird," she told him. "Now get back down here and fuck me like you mean it!"

Neither of the two rooms remained quiet the rest of the day.

[hearts4youz]

The Captains Daughter -Chapter 6-

A/N: This chapter is a bit longer, finally writing some real action!! Expect chapters to be a lot less... boring from here on out. The first couple chapters were slow for the purpose of developing the plot and characters and yada yada yada. But anyways- I hope yall enjoy this chapter!!

Word count: 2k

Reader pov:

You flopped on your bed after dinner. Anticipation for the mission tomorrow morning rendering you unable to sleep. Your eyes flicked to the open duffle bag on the floor, clothes spilling out of it. Sighing you got up from your bed and moved towards the bag, picking up discarded clothes as you did. You opened the plain wooden drawers in your bedroom and placed your clothes in them, organizing them by shirts, pants, socks and whatnot. At the bottom of the bag was the one personal item you were allowed to bring, your photo album. Smiling, you reached down and picked up the binder. It was decorated with pink glitter, paint, and other craft materials. You made it with your friends in middle school, it was almost full now. Inside were pictures in as close to chronological order as you could get. You flipped open the binder, the glossy cover protected each of the pages, gliding past your fingers as you turned each page.

At the beginning of the book was pictures from your first birthday, your parents were still together. Your father's eyes squinted shut from his wide grin, you had cake all over your face and sported a huge smile of your own to match his. Your mother however, smiled less enthusiastically than your dad, a faraway look in your eyes. You frown as you focused on her. You didn't remember her much, one of the only memories you had of her being the night she left.

You were three years old, your father had finished your bedtime routine over an hour ago, but you remained wide awake.

"I can't do this anymore John," you heard your mom yell from the kitchen.

"Emilia. please, for Y/N," "please," you heard your fathers pleas.

"John," your mother said quieter, voice breaking.

"I was never meant to be a mother, I love you, so, so much but.." her voice was breaking as her sentance trailed off.

"You can't just leave me, you can't just leave your daughter because parenting isn't for you." "We're supposed to be in this together"

Your father sounded more upset now

"John I-" "You know how I feel about throwing my life away for a kid,"

"Throwing away your life? can you hear yourself right now?" he raised his voice.

"Yes, I can't even go out anymore cause I have to watch her"

"Y/N is the best thing that has ever happened to us, she is our life now." your dad yelled.

"Maybe she's yours, but she sure as hell will never be mine," your mom screamed.

You didn't understand the severity of the situation. You didn't understand why your dad stomped up the stairs, quiet sniffles leaving his nose.

You didn't understand why your dad hugged you tighter then usual before he dropped you off at preschool the next morning, or why he was always sad and drinking.

You didn't understand why mom wasn't coming home.

You closed the book. You didn't have any emotion at the thought of that night, you hardly knew your mother, never saw her again. Your dad explained it to you once you were old enough, once he was over it. The two of you did just fine alone.

Besides, there's a mission tomorrow, which deserves your focus. No need to reminisce on old memories. You laid down on the subpar mattress, falling asleep shortly after.

The next morning you awoke to your alarm blaring once again. Following your normal routine, you got dressed, splashed your face with cold water, brushed your teeth, and made sure your gear was set for the mission. You made sure your pack had everything you needed as well, forgetting something on your first mission wouldn't be very impressive.

You need to prove yourself, you thought. For your team, especially your father and Ghost. Your dad believed in you, you needed to make sure you lived up to his expectations. The harder task, proving to Ghost that you belonged in the 141.

Slinging your bag over your shoulder, you took one last look at your room, scanning for something you could have possibly forgot, and left.

The 141 gets to skip breakfast in order to get the mission done, you were grateful you were missing out on rock hard "pancakes," if you could even call them that.

You were told to meet in the bay, where they kept the vehicles. The plan was to take a Humvee to the drop location, hopefully the area would be clear of infadels, and you could be back by mid afternoon.

You took the stairwell down to the bay, which was basically a glorified parking garage, meeting up with Gaz along the way.

"You ready kid?" he grinned, looking intimidating in full gear. You on the other hand, looked like a kid in grown-ups clothes. Your boots were a size too large, tripping you up occasionally. Your tactical vest hung loose off your stomach. You really did look like a kid compared to the burly men in your squad.

"Ready as i'll ever be," you cringed at the corny reply you let slip out of your mouth. Gaz chuckled.

Gaz briefed you on what to expect as you descended the stairs, missions like these were routine, easy. He had told you.

You felt butterflies in your stomach, slight nervousness setting in as you entered the bay, which Gaz assured you was normal.

You reached the spot where the vehicle was parked, Ghost was already there, having a smoke. He nodded towards the two of you as you neared. You muttered a hello as he offered Gaz a cigarette. He held the packet out to you, offering you one.

"No thanks, I don't smoke," you stated.

Ghost scoffed, "You will eventually."

You furrowed your brows, wondering what he meant.

The three of you stood in silence waiting for the rest of the group. Price was next to arrive, then Soap and Alejandro. Once you were gathered, Your father went over the mission once more, then climbed into the drivers seat. Ghost entered the passenger side, Gaz and soap jumped into the middle row, leaving you and Alejandro with the very back seats.

The drive was mostly silent, until about halfway through when your dad kicked on the radio. It was set to some country station, your father hummed the tune, a few of the men nodded along to the song. After around three hours the vehicle slowed, merging onto a dirt road, after a few miles you came upon a small town, few people milled around the streets. Startled when they saw the armored military vehicle turning up the dusty path.

You came upon a run down building at the edge of the town, you were exposed to anything. If enemies were here, they surely saw you rolling into town. You didn't move a muscle when the car stopped, awaiting orders.

The fear really set in now, the severity of what could happen if there were in fact enemies hiding out in this building.

Your monologue was cut short by the sound of Soap slamming his door shut. You jumped up, startled.

"Relax," Alejandro chuckled.

You sighed, relieved that it wasn't gunshots.

The six of you piled out of the car, grouping up in front of the building. You all stared at Price, waiting for his input.

"Let's get in and get out, If anyone is inside they surely know we have arrived. I would have preferred a stealthier entrance, but I was given close to no information about the area to go off of." He said, any trace of your soft, caring father gone. Replaced by the stone faced military man he reserved for work.

You took in your surroundings, the building was old and weathered. Part of the roof was caved in, moss crawled across the damaged siding. Cracked windows decorated the outside, allowing for a look into the unfurnished building.

The group carried out protocol wordlessly, peering into windows to check for danger, planning entrance and exit routes, and assessing the situation. Everyone seemed to have a job, you were lost in the middle of it. Your father was too focused on the task at hand to help you.

Ghost noticed your slight distress and beckoned you over. He was crouched by a ground level window, pointing at something inside. You stood directly in front of the window, trying to make out what Ghost was pointing at, when you were taken to the ground by a large mass.

The wind was knocked out of you as you looked up at Ghost who was now on top of you.

"Stupid, Rookie mistake." he uttered.

"Is there anything inside that lump three feet above your fucking ass?" He spat.

"My what?" your voice trembled.

"Your head you twat."

"He probably saw you, you fucking imbecile," his words bit into your heart, tugging on the strings.

"He?" you gasped.

"Yes, you twat. There's a soldier in there with our supplies," he said, getting off of you, pushing his boot into your stomach after he stood, for good measure. As if you weren't humiliated enough, there was now a dusty footprint across your body.

Gathering yourself, you stood. Crouching behind the Lieutenant as he steadied his gun, taking aim at the man through the broken glass. A moment later you heard the crack of gunfire and the thump of a body hitting the ground. Ghost had hit his target and moved away from the window, flattening himself and you against the siding before anyone inside could return fire.

Your radio crackled as Ghost briefed the others on the events. Price gave instructions in return.

"Stay close," Ghost murmured in your ear, grasping your arm and leading you around the back of the building. With your free hand, you unholstered your own gun.

You followed Ghost as he rounded the corner. You heard the shouts in the distance as the fighting ensued.

Your radios crackled, "Entering the premises," said Gaz.

Ghost responded, "We're around the back, entering on that side."

Another voice chimed in, "Y/N how copy?"- your dad.

"With Ghost,"

"Copy" The back door was slightly ajar, Ghost kicked it open then stepped to the side for cover, nothing happened and he stepped inside.

The room you entered smelled of mildew and soot. It clearly hasn't been used for its original purpose in years. Pieces of drywall lay on the ground, pieces of broken glass mixed into the mess. Old, torn, and stained furniture was scattered throughout.

You scanned the seemingly empty area. Ghost did the same. Concluding that the coast was clear, the two of you walked further into the building. You suddenly heard the sounds of a skirmish above you. Grunting and banging, sounds of someone hitting the floor.

Gunshots

You and Ghost exchanged a glance before frantically searching for a way upstairs, hoping that the slain wasn't one of your teammates.

Ghost pressed a button on his radio. Once the two of you were officially lost. "Anyone caught in the fight upstairs?"

"Negative," multiple voices said.

Price took over the comms to give more orders.

"We've taken out about five so far. An unknown number remain. Stay cautious. Our supplies are supposed to be at the top floor. Lets meet up there. Once we have as much as we can carry we leave. If you meet an... infidel, you have permission to kill."

"Copy"

To be continued...

Taglist: @abbiesxox

[kechiwrites]

Just read white flag and UUUUUUUGH my heart hurts and my head hurts and my nose is all stopped up. Ugly crying is the only way to go about this.

Then I started thinking, how torn up would ghost have been if Tommy knew nothing about him. And when he asks (as all kids do) reader let years of anger and hate guide her tongue when she tells their son she doesn't know the big scary man but she won't let him hurt them. I just can't rn. I hurt my own damn feelings and I just stopped crying from reading your last fic.

no because let's talk about it!

toxic baby daddy ghost x reader : angst of course, slightly suggestive content, hints at dubious consent, no proofreading, we die like reader's empathy, no gendered language, no use of y/n ever

imagine you swinging open the front door, tommy all knotted up in the legs of your pants, four years old and so insanely bright, smart for his age, all the preschool teachers say so. he's all sweet voice and chubby cheeks and little hands that cling to you just a bit tighter when the big man dressed in black fills your doorway.

the skull mask is firmly in place, like he couldn't be bothered to change into his civvies, and you would laugh if you weren't so sure it would end in heaving, desperate sobs. His eyes burn a hole into your face, hovering over your mouth, your eyes, your nose, your throat; cataloguing what's the same, studying what's different. you hope to god he's committed it all to memory, the disgust in your gaze, the anger that curls your lip, because you'll do your level best to ensure he never gets the chance to see it again.

"who're you?" tommy inquires, when it's clear that the two of you are just going to fucking stand there and immediately ghost's gaze slinks lower, until he's staring at your son, like he can't believe the little boy is right there. your boy, for all his vocal, youthful curiosity, hides under the scrutiny, and his fear spurs you into action. you scoop him up, a task that gets harder by the day, and heft him onto your hip.

"he's no one, sweetie." you slam the door closed with your free hand and thank god he doesn't think to wedge his foot in before it shuts completely. later, you think, vindictively, victoriously; 'i did that, that defeated look in his eye', after all, if he wanted tommy to know him, to love him, then maybe he should've let you take a picture of his face as is, given you something to show your kid at the very least when he inevitably asked where the fuck he came from. better yet, maybe he shouldn't have poured acid all over the relationship you'd once had. maybe he should've stuck around instead of leaving you to fend for your goddamn self. when you tuck tommy in, he asks after "the man" again, the ghoul newly haunting your neighbourhood. his voice is subdued, sleepy and yet somehow still shaky with fear.

"i would never let him hurt you, baby." you whisper, and his grateful, baby-toothed smile solidifies a whisper of a thought into a full blown plan. by the next morning, half of your bedroom is packed up, and when tommy stirs awake, you pitch a "road trip to grandma's". 14 hours away will just have to be far enough, for now anyway. this didn't actually happen, of course. you were too shellshocked to give ghost what he oh so rightly deserved. you'd gaped and gawked and stepped to the side when he inclined his head like he wanted to come in because even after four lonely years, the two of you still sustain a language of sounds and gestures and touches so soft the memory of them nearly ceased to exist after they were done. he stuck around for hours, introducing himself to tommy, shaking your baby's hand in a sterile show of his own discomfort, hunkering down in your living room while you guided tommy through your night time routine. once your son was snug in his bed, snoring softly, ghost used your shock to intrude on your personal space, used your hesitation to touch you, first gentle, then harder. until you cede to familiar sensation.

teehee!

baby blue masterlist

[transparencyboo]

For the last two weeks or so I've been playing the Mega Drive dungeon crawler Shining in the Darkness. I've recently been going through all the various action-RPGs the system had to offer and kinda found myself lusting for more, so I expanded the scope.

Shining in the Darkness had one of those cover arts I vividly remember seeing in game stores during the 90s, I understood already back then that whatever this was would be too complicated for my feeble preschool brain, but it had a shiny glossy allure that still beckoned to me with promises of daring adventures and grand battles. Questions lingered in my head: Who is that evil bastard zapping sparks at Cavin from the Gummi Bears? Why has the king entrusted the safety of his kingdom to a meagre boy and his two misfit friends?

Well, it turns out that big bad guy is called Dark Sol, the bane of all game difficulty discourse, and the reason the king has enlisted three poor kids is because there is no one else to rely on after your daddy went missing. Everyone else just sorta gives up along the way.

My initial conclusion of this game was to commend my young self for the striking assessment, my five year old self would never get anywhere in this game between the English text, abstracted navigation and number crunching battle mechanics. Shining in the Darkness is a bona fide classic dungeon gauntlet endurance simulator, where you traverse vanishing point block tunnels and encounter enemies. I've played one or two games like this before, like the original Phantasy Star, but this time a new desire struck me. I wanted to draw maps. Maybe I'm just getting older and more patient, leading me to wilfully ignore easily available resources online.

By my recollection, this is the first time I've dedicated myself to playing a game like this. Usually I just resort to my sense of direction, which I've gathered seems to at least be above average, since anytime I go anywhere with anyone I always end up playing shepherd so they don't get lost. Worst case scenario I'll just fall back to mapping efforts by online heroes from years past. For Shining in the Darkness I persisted blindly about halfway through until I admitted to myself charting a map of the labyrinthine caves would be a lot easier. Luckily, the game allows you to spend 1 MP to see a chunk of where you've walked, meaning I could get neatly organized segments to copy by hand.

Perhaps my biggest takeaway from this endeavour was how much of the game experience was expressed through this map project. I spent just as much time slaying beasts as I did counting tiles and filling them out with my pencil. It became a natural counterbalance that provided vital pacing to the game mechanics. Walking, fighting, charting. In turn, through the principle of learning by doing, I gained a more intimate familiarity with the environments by just replicating them out on a sheet of paper. I found that while the map helped, I actually didn't need it much for backtracking because my drawings had helped me remember the layouts of the corridors anyway.

I guess the lesson learned is that while old design sensibilities may appear to be arcane and cumbersome when easier solutions exists, the obfuscation is part of the fun. The game hands me an intentionally hard to navigate world, shows me that it's fully capable of displaying maps of it, but still asks me to provide that dimension myself. Through doing this, I discover that drawing maps is both surprisingly enjoyable and cognitively stimulating. I realize that had I downloaded some pre-packaged maps online and used as my bible, Shining in the Darkness would've been a vastly different experience, one of monotonous meandering through endless fights while confidently striding along the known path.

Perhaps that's why the game was called Shining and the Darkness in Japan, it doesn't flow as well as the western title, but at the same time it poetically reflects this act of discovery. I am Shining, the game provides the Darkness, we work together, we must unify to become whole.

As for Dark Sol, he turned into a big monster boy and was vanquished by a spunky cartographer child and her two cohorts. The unknown has been made known and the kingdom is once more saved.

/Kiki

[kitorin]

dear stranger.

in which, itoshi rin is terrible at keeping promises.

contents. itoshi rin x reader, hurt no comfort (just not from rin himself), childhood friends, unrequited feelings (implied), reader is a year older than rin, a bit of isagi x reader at the end, all word vomit it's past 1 am cut me some slack

a/n. kinda short since my recent fics were so long and i need a break (i have more planned anyways)

For as long as you can remember, Itoshi Rin has always been there.

You were two peas in a pod; inseparable, possessing a bond that no one could ever replicate. You've known each other since birth, and your mothers had been best friends even before you were born.

All four seasons and all year long, you were together. Winter was composed of snow fights, snoozing inside of a kotatsu, with a cup of hot chocolate. Gasping while pointing at the gorgeous cherry blossoms blooming in the spring, eagerly trying to catch the petals dancing with the wind. Splashing and kicking up water at the beach with each other, enjoying refreshing watermelon as you both bask within the warmth of the sunlight. Admiring the crimsons, saffron and golds of Autumn, giggling at the satisfying crunch of leaves lying on the pavement.

Playdates or sleepovers, either way you were both over the moon. Screaming with joy and playing together all day, later scheming to stay up all night to whisper each other every secret (all while making sure Sae sleeps undisturbed), only to pass out an hour or two later.

He's the reason why your childhood was so warm, overflowing with happy memories, the mere thought of him engulfing with you warmth.

You didn't go to the same preschools and daycares, yet you were still each other's bestfriend, and it was going to stay that way forever, if you did start primary a bit earlier than him.

"Mama what do you mean Rin won't come to school?!" The weather perfectly suited your mood, rain hammering against the roof and windows. Five year old you pouted, refusing to believe what you and his mother just announced. In protest you slammed the table, standing up.

"y/n, calm down. Rin's still going to primary as well. Just not at your school." Your mum orders you to sit down, and you obey reluctantly, as she continues throwing ingredients into the hot pot.

"But why?" A disappointed whine leaves your lips. "I want to learn more with Rinnie."

"It's okay." Rin's mother pats your hair, moving it out of your face to prevent it getting into your food. "You'll still be best friends, your mother and I didn't go to the same one either. We even grew up in different towns."

"But I want Rin at my school." Your mum sighs at how stubborn you were being.

"y/n I'll still be your bestfriend, I always will no matter what."

"But what if you find someone else." Your voice begins breaking, and your mother panics as she senses a mental breakdown, noticing early tears beginning to accumulate on your lash line.

Rin holds out his pinky. "I promise! We'll be together until we grow-, no, for the rest of our lives."

You intertwine his pinky with yours, it's so warm and soft, and his dedication makes you grin. "Promise! You're not allowed to break it."

"I swear on my life! You're not allowed to either." Both of you break out into a giggle, which earns a proud 'awwww' from your mothers, with hints of relief subtlety thanking Rin for preventing a mental breakdown from you.

That lunch had to be one of your favourites, Rin and his puppy eyes were adorable, even if his 'promise' lacked honesty and truth.

"Rin." No answer.

"Riiiin." Still no answer.

"Itoshiiii?"

He finally responds. "What?"

"Get off your phone. Talk to me." You frown, wondering what was so interesting that he'd avoid talking to you entirely, despite coming over to your house. So far all he did was remain seated in your chair, eyes focused onto the screen.

"No. It's important. 't's for an upcoming game." He doesn't even look away from his phone.

"Is it stressful? Do you want to talk about i-?"

"Shush."

You don't bother pushing the conversation, if he'd choose it over you it must've been a significant match. You spend the rest of your time reading a book, occasionally glancing at Rin.

Nothing happened.

"So, how's Rin?" Your mother asks before you sleep, doing one last check before heading to her room.

"He's good, really busy with soccer."

"You've been saying that all year. Is soccer all you talk about? What about school? Are his grades alright? How's he adapting to middle school?"

You open your mouth to answer, only to come to a horrible conclusion. You don't know. Rin's the boy you've spent over a decade with, the one who knows everything about you and you know everything about him.

Yet you can't say anything about him, aside for his dedication to soccer, which is something anyone could tell about him.

"Oh yeah! He gets along really well with his teammates, he's doing well." Before your mum suspects anything, you hastily lie, something that's not unrealistic nor concerning enough for your mother to feel the need to check. You force a yawn, hoping your mum stops asking and goes to sleep soon.

Your strategies work, as she quickly wishes you good night, leaving your room. Now you're free to start worrying.

'You've been saying that all year' now that you're finally taking it into consideration, she's right.

Because there's quite literally nothing else to tell her.

You're trying to count, trying to count how many hangouts resulted in him being glued to his phone, only stopping when your parents announce dinner.

Suddenly your lip's quivering, and anxiety blurs your vision as you feel tears gathering in your eyes.

It's still unknown to you why it's taken you forever to notice, but it's like a truck driving into you; heavy and brutal. Now that you've thought about it, you haven't properly hung out in forever, all he does is do something soccer related.

You understand having a passion. Not his cold treatment towards you, the one that was supposed to be his bestfriend.

It's just temporary, a middle school team can't even compare or come close. Rin's current behaviour was merely an attempt to adjust to middle school life, give it a year or two then you'll go back to laughing all day and building sandcastles.

"Seriously? She did that?" Rin's mum almost yells, shocked at the events recounted by your mother.

"Shhhh. Rin's sleeping."

"Poor thing... must be tired from training all the time."

You walk into the conversation halfway, blanket in hand, making your way to Rin's resting figure on the bean bag.

Gosh, he looks stunning.

His defined jaw, long eyelashes adorning his face, his bangs which rested right above his eyes, everything about him looked perfect, even if he was sleep. Even his lips look kissable in this state. You ignore that thought and carry on with what you were doing.

You're gentle and careful, ensuring you don't move the bean bag and draping your blanket over him. There's concern clouding your heart, the other day only his mum came over, apparently he had stayed home to sleep all day. You prayed his sleep schedule was okay, as you went to join your mum.

"C'mon eat more." Rin's mum smiles, she completely contrasts Rin, warm and welcoming. "Thank you for always being so nice to him. You're only a year old yet you're so much more mature. He's really lucky to have you."

If only Rin thought that. If only this 'friendship' continued because of him, instead of the close friendship between your mothers.

Your attempts to figure out what happened were fruitless, almost instantly being dismissed.

If only soccer didn't take over his life, no, if only you had stuck together during your education.

You feel so foolish, the overwhelming guilt strangling you won't go away, not even both of your mothers believe you're still bestfriends, little do they know Rin doesn't see you that way anymore. You're now essentially just strangers now,

If only he kept that stupid pinky promise.

"So Rin was that kind of person." Yoichi hums, still staring at the picture that was hidden in your desk. It's the two of you during the peak of what was supposed to be an eternal friendship, where you had an arm tightly wrapped around him. Even over a decade later you see it as a way to rub salt into the wound.

"Yeah." It wasn't easy but you ended up explaining you and Rin to your boyfriend, Yoichi. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip, fighting the urge to cry. Merely talking about him replicates the pain of that night, when you realized how truly meaningless you are to him.

"Hey." He's quick to notice your discomfort, wrapping his arms around you, lovingly patting your back. "It's okay." He whispers in your ear.

"It's not your fault."

That's what made you lose it, a choked cry and tears now streaming down your cheeks.

All this time you've been questioning if you were ever worth loving, all because someone who claimed to stay by your side forever disappeared so easily.

"It's okay, everything's okay." He continues to repeat. "I'm right here, okay? Let it all out. I'm not going anywhere."

You cling onto him, like a child. It was almost embarrassing to behave this way, weeping over someone who's probably forgotten you by now.

"'m sorry- I shouldn't be upse-"

"No. Don't treat yourself like that." Yoichi refuses to listen to anything negative about you, and that includes anything self deprecating. He carries you to your bed, placing you down gently, and joining you. Yoichi peppers you with light kisses, warmth ghosting over your face.

And he's right. You had every right to be hurt to this day. He was your bestfriend, your other half, and Rin himself took that all away from you heartlessly. The least he could've done was at least express that he wanted nothing to do with you.

"I promise you, I'm going to destroy him during our next game. I don't care if we're on the same team, I'm scoring more goals than him no matter what. No one deserves to treat you like that." Yoichi goes for a deeper kiss this time, rough, calloused hands cupping your cheeks. "Don't even think about saying you weren't good enough for Rin. You're perfect." Even after pouring your heart out and bawling because of it, you can't help but smile.

You're finally coming to terms with it, that the Rin who you'd play tag with along the graceful shores of Kamakura, was now a mere stranger to you, one that you'll hold dear to your heart.

tagging. @kiyumiya

© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate

[pixeldistractions]

I said I wanted an adventure:

And oh boy, life delivered. Sadly, it won’t be the airplane adventure we were planning. That’s going to be postponed for a little while.

Warning: walls of text and real-life shit. (Serious wall of text, I’m not even joking.)

Long story short, hubby was laid off from the job that has kept us in a cushy living for the past fifteen years, the job that has given me the luxury of being 85% a stay-at-home mom to both of my kids in their younger years. We kind of saw it coming, and we’re not totally scared. He got a severance package and health insurance for six months. On my end, my books don’t make much money, but I’m telling you, I am a squirrel when it comes to money, mine and his, and I’m not bad at investing. We’ll be okay for a bit.

So, I’m not scared. Yet. But wow, how things can change in the blink of an eye.

For one, we’ll probably move. I don’t know where. The timing is kind of miraculous, with one child graduated and one not yet in kindergarten, we’re free to go wherever we please right now. It was never my dream to move to northern Virginia in the first place. It’s hot and muggy here, and the people are transient, snobby, and kind of boring. My vote is to move back home to Michigan, but when it comes to the bottom line, we gotta pay the bills, so we’ll go wherever he finds work next. He is talented and I know he’ll find work again, but where and what and for how much is up in the air. All I know is northern Virginia is expensive af and we can’t stay here for long if he’s not earning what he did before.

And I don’t really want him to take another corporate job? Not now, in our forties, having spent ALL of our fucks. I’m not sorry he did that kind of work before, because it was a good financial decision for our family, but it wasn’t always fun. He found it stressful and soulless. Unlimited vacation time, haha, as long as you keep your nose to the grindstone and keep your lips ready for the ass-kissing. Anyway.

So we could be elsewhere, and that would be totally okay by me. I don’t want to stay here. I want to move back home to Michigan. My heart sings for it. My whole family is there. The lakes, the forests, the arts, the farms. I’d cash out our investments to buy some land and a modest house in as much cash as we can. And I’ll have some chickens and goats and tomato plants (because it’s the only thing I could ever get to grow). It’s not out of the question. On the other hand, sometimes families in our situation try and try and are still out of work after a couple years, and that nest egg chips away and dwindles to nothing, especially now and especially in the tech field like he is with layoffs everywhere, especially after 6 months when health insurance premiums come due. Yay, America!

So, I don’t know anything about my future right now. Is that scary, or exciting? Both maybe? For now, for the next few months/year, I don’t think very much will change on my end except the timing. I was talking a couple weeks ago about feeling the call to get back to publication writing. I was planning to get serious about it soon, and very serious about it next school year when my youngest is in full-day kindergarten. (He has one more year of preschool first.) But, hey, I guess maybe now would be a better time to hustle some fiction for cash? Granted, I’m still mostly a full-time caregiver to a four-year-old with needs, and those short preschool days fly by. Also considering sick days and snow days, little kids aren’t actually in school very much at all. But I am itching to get back to work, I’m feeling that call, and now it’s also more of a necessity that I work smart (for money) with my little 10-15 hours a week of free time.

As for the state of my blogs and sims stories… Well, it was a pure luxury to be able to sit on my butt and work on Sims stories when my kid went to preschool for three hours a day, 3-5 days a week. It was a privilege—one that I have now lost. Life happens, and things change. It is what it is. And now it’s not really responsible for me to spend all of my free time writing stories of this scope for freebies.

Boxes and Squares is only halfway finished, and the second half is just as large as the first. It took me over a year to complete what I have so far. And where we’re at now, it’s such a special part of the story, an important turning point and the culmination of a lot of things. I was very much looking forward to it. But it’s also LONG. Simming the whole thing would take a lot of time that I don’t have to spend anymore. But I think I’ve come up with a way to not totally quit.

I don’t know if I mentioned it, but I always hoped to bring this story to books someday. I always wondered if it might be better suited to the general book fiction/literary market. It’s floundering here on Simblr. Five, dear, beloved people were reading it. I love you guys. But why did it never catch on in all this time? I could never really figure out why it was so invisible here. Maybe the pictures were ugly. Maybe the conflict was too tame. Not enough vampires? Not enough guns or murder? Never learned to use ReShade properly? Does my breath stink? Maybe I don’t really want to know the answer in the end.

It’s meant for other things, if anything at all. Maybe nothing at all, but who knows. Maybe it’ll find its niche someday elsewhere. I love this story (why, oh why do I love it so?), and I can’t quit it. I couldn’t quit if I tried. The story of these wandering misfits is so personal and interesting to me, and I need to see it through to the end.

I have to say, with certainty now, I’ll finish it out in books. I’ve already started tinkering with the first few chapters of a newly imagined beginning. And oh, it’s sparkling! It begins with a reimagined work field trip scene, with Jordan and Maria on a soggy farm in the cold rain. I don’t know if it’ll do well in the general book market, but I can say I have had fun drafting it here and I will have fun finishing it out in books. I always wanted to try a series format story in books. It’s looking like it’ll be about 8-9 novella/short-novel sized chunks. Anyone who was reading here will get free ebook copies, of course. Hell, if I ever meet you in person, I’d hand you a signed paperback, too. Shipping fees are a bitch, though, or else I’d mail them.

As I’ve been picking at these book drafts the past couple weeks, I’m quickly remembering how freeing it is to write in full text. Not having to compromise my vision according to what I might be able to do in game or with poses, not having to fight with game glitches and crashes and broken mods before I can even begin the work. The words do as I tell them to, and nothing is off limits if I have the words to describe it! Returning to that feels quite magical. I might be a little rusty at this after so many years away, but I remember how it goes. Muscle memory, decades of practice, so much trial and error under my belt already. I know what I’m doing here. It’s comfortable and it’s good.

But I was so excited to share book 5. I really, truly was. It contains some of my favorite scenes in the whole story! I’m sad to leave the story hanging where it is, even though, perhaps, if you look at it just right, chapter 4.5 did offer some resolution for the story to land on.

So, to the five of you who were reading my story and do care, thank you for reading this thing! Your likes and comments meant the world to me as I poured my heart and soul into this quiet little story. And I hope this compromise will work for everyone. And if it doesn’t, I’m sorry.

Which is not to say I’m going to abandon the sims entirely. I’ve been playing sims since 2003 and writing sims stories since 2008. I love seeing my characters and their world visually. In a way, it’s been an outlet for the sad reality that I’ll never be able to draw a graphic novel, lol!

So you’ll still see my sims from time to time. Updates won’t come as frequently as I was able to do before. It will look different, but I’d love to keep my timeline puttering along, if I can. You’ll see gameplay shenanigans and maybe some mini stories. Even B&S characters, you’ll still see them on here, going about their lives. I couldn’t stop it if I tried. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll still be playing my sims just as I have since I discovered Sims 1. And maybe in a couple years, when my youngest is in school full time and our financial situation will have hopefully settled, I might be able to do another hefty sims story again. But for now, things will be different. Life happens, and things change.

I’m still going to finish “Miserable Ghost Story,” too, which is a traditional stand-alone novel. And I have many more WIPs than that to finish. I have another old dear novel that I’ve been picking at for 20 years that I’d like to see the light of day sometime. I have a couple more spin-offs from the EWTF and F&B set, too. It’s in my best interest to buckle down and finish all the WIPs I can. I have so many of them, after all. Earn three bucks a copy, invest it and turn it into ten. That’s my game. I was a finance major in college for a hot minute before I became an English major. I can be artsy-fartsy and business-minded all at once.

All this to say, regretfully, stories will not return in mid-August as I had planned. But they will return eventually, in some shape or form, as soon as I can settle my brain from the spinning. And, I guess, update my game and mods for the new pack.

And if there’s any luck in the world, maybe next year I’ll be living on Lake Michigan, writing my stories, taking care of my kids and acres of property and maybe some goats. Goat cheese and romance novels, isn’t that the dream? Graciously accepting any prayers or well wishes, please and thank you!

[maxwellatoms]

Hello, I hope you are well. I look forward to the stream on Thursday.

I suppose first I should ask if you would rather me send asks through here or through Patreon. But anyway, here is something I have been wondering. I have quite a bit of a preface though:

I never actually grew up with Grim Adventures. I was a wee little tot when it was airing, so if I was watching TV, I was watching one of those preschool shows. When I did get old enough to start watching shows geared towards older kids, I had just missed out on it. I only got around to watching Grim Adventures and Evil Con Carne rather recently.

But what I did grow up with was Chowder. I never remembered it well as I got older, but what did stick with me was "The Puckerberry Overloads." Child me struggled to comprehend the logic behind how Chowder could be in his own mouth. After rewatching the series recently, I was very surprised and excited to see you were credited as one of the writers and the storyboard artist for the episode. I even recognized your voice from one of the characters. I suppose you really were there all along.

So I wanted to ask, how did you end up doing some work for Chowder? Were you simply a guest of sorts? I also saw you credited as a writer and storyboard artist for another episode in another season, so how did that come to be? What I'm mostly curious about is how that factored all in with the Great Purge.

I would love to hear whatever you are willing to tell me. Thank you for reading.

Thank you for writing!

I'll still be around on here. I think the Patreon is probably a better place to ask questions if you really want an answer, since I'll try to answer every question on there. Here, I tend to cherry-pick and I've got a bit of a backlog.

Long story short, Billy & Mandy eventually wrapped, which left me to do Underfist and develop a couple of other properties for CN. My friend C.H. Greenblatt (creator and voice of Fred Fredburger, and writer of a number of memorable episodes) got his own series, "Chowder". They were having trouble finding a board artist to fill one of the slots, so I said I'd do a board. Greenblatt and I have always helped each other out when we can over the years. Just this year we got to produce Jellystone Season Two together, and it was the best time I've had on a series in a decade.

I did another board for Season Two, and that's about when "The Great Purge" happened. And there was no escaping that for anyone, really.

C.H. Greenblatt and I had a really fun Looney Tunes pitch we sold right before the pandemic hit. Like everything else during that time, it went into Deep Freeze. Maybe one day we can get back to it.

He'll definitely be making an appearance on "Billy & Mandy vs. The Entertainment Industry". More on that soon™!