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#curly haired boy ❤
luveline · 2 years
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𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐲 | 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫  
part one | part two | part three
summary you’re a single mom living three trailers down. eddie thinks you’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen. queue lunch break visits, rocky road ice cream, a too-big bouquet, and the rainbow connection.
warnings teen mom!reader, fem!reader, r is junie’s birth mother, fluff, hurt/comfort, eddie being a total girl dad (<3), mutual pining, yearning etc, tw for not having much money, general mom struggles :(, slowburn friends to lovers, tw talk of dying (and past lives)
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You're dozing against the back wall in the kitchen when Benny clears his throat. The grease back here while he's cooking tends to get pretty thick and you're tired to begin with. It's a recipe for nodding off. 
Flinching into a proper standing position, you give your boss an apologetic smile. "What?" you ask, blinking hard. 
"Your boy's here." 
"My boy?" 
"Curly hair, tattoos. Looks like he hasn't showered this week. Or any week, actually." Benny laughs, a chesty, self-satisfied chuckle. 
You rush to his side, careful of the spitting hot grill, and follow his gaze out of the kitchen window. Eddie's about two seconds away from opening the glass door, clad in his smart work uniform. 
"He's not my boy," you say. 
Benny scrapes his spatula across the grill's bubbling surface and flips a burger. "If he's the reason you're tired today, you can consider him banned. He's ruining my best waitress." 
"I'm your only waitress." The door opens. Eddie stops in the doorway and casts his gaze around the room. You hide behind the wall and fuss with your hair. "And no, he's not keeping me up. It's Junie." Isn't it always Junie? She's your baby and you adore her, but that doesn't mean she's getting any easier to handle. The terrible twos are persevering with a ferocity you can't quite withstand, or at the very least sleep through. 
"He eating?" Benny asks. 
"I'll go find out." 
You wipe the oil from your nose and grimace as you walk out into the actual seating area of the diner. It's empty but for one person and Eddie, who grins when he sees you. 
"Hey, sweet thing." 
You try not to show how much you like being called 'sweet thing'. Your face must betray you somehow because Eddie's grin turns smug and he approaches until he's basically stepping on your toes. 
"How's it hanging?"
You snort. "Benny asked if you're eating." 
"What's today's special?" 
"Cheeseburger." 
He fixes your shirt collar. You can feel the warmth of his fingers and the cooler metal of a ring grace your throat. "Yeah, I'm eating." 
You report back to Benny with his order and find the cook's already added two burgers to the grill. He points his spatula at the now grilled and constructed burger for Darren. If you hadn't taken it you'd still know who's it was; Benny's regulars are loyal to a fault. The same old guys come in here day in and day out, and they all want the same thing. 
Quarter pounders. 
You take it, twist around a childish Eddie trying to trip you up and deliver it to Darren, a frowny-faced farm-hand that Benny swears is a nice guy deep down. You've yet to dig far enough. 
Eddie tries to trip you up again when you come back. You glare at him, stepping on his toes gently – more a threat than a real show of aggression – and disappear again through the kitchen door.
"So." Benny throws down a basket of fries before moving to the chopping board with a fresh tomato in hand. "He's your boyfriend?" 
"Do we have to do this?" you ask, joining him at the chopping board. You try to snag a slice of tomato and are quickly tutted away. 
"Is he?" 
"No," you say, trying again for some tomato. 
"Kid, if you don't wait." 
You pout and set back on your heels. 
The burgers sizzle. Benny throws a slice of cheese over Eddie's and lets it melt. Quicker than you can believe, Benny constructs two burgers and fills a red plastic basket with fries. 
He offers them to you. "Lunch break." 
Free food. You smile at him sheepishly and try to take them. He pulls his arms back.
"Wha-" 
"If he's your boyfriend, you better tell me now." 
"Benny, I don't know if you know this, but I'm an adult. Already got knocked up once." 
"And where is he now?" 
Chastised, you mumble, "He's not my boyfriend," and Benny finally hands over the food. He looks like he might try to ruffle your hair if you stick around, so you knock open the kitchen door with your hip and make a speedy exit. 
"What's with the face?" Eddie asks as you sit, reaching for the hot plate balancing across your forearm.
"I think Benny just tried to give me a dad talk." 
He laughs like this is the funniest thing he's ever heard. "Really? What did he say?" 
You shake your head. That's not a bag of worms you're interested in delving into right now. Your brains too fried, and the food smells great. Your stomach aches with hunger. 
"You want a coke?" you ask. 
Eddie stands up. "I'll get them. Sit down, okay?"
You sit down and shove a greedy handful of fries into your mouth, turning in your seat to watch Eddie talk.
He leans over the metal ledge of the kitchen window. It's quiet enough to hear him laugh, hear him say, "No, sir," in a tone that borders sarcastic. 
He wields a five dollar bill at Benny, who shoots him down.
"Put it in the Junie jar," Benny says. 
"Junie jar?" Eddie questions, though he's smiling. 
Your eyebrows furrow at the expression. You've never heard it either. 
"I don't bother pretending she spends it on anything else."
"You got that right." 
You flush with heat all the way to to the tips of your ears and turn back to the table before Eddie can catch you watching. 
He throws himself into his seat like he's collapsed. The twin cokes in his hands upheave and then splash back into themselves, an impressive and ridiculous show of skill that makes you gasp. 
"For you." He shoves a glass down next to you. The ice cubes clink. 
"Thank you," you say, and don't waste any time digging into your food.
He squints at your eager eating, though he waits until you've taken the worlds biggest bite of your burger before he asks, "Hungry?" 
You swallow before you mean to and have to take a big sip of your drink to avoid choking to death. "I didn't eat breakfast." 
"How come?" 
You can't take his concern. Your eyes drop this hand where it picks through fries, no rings in sight. He’d told you once he can’t wear them at work, because he gets really warm and the rings are costume jewellery. His hands look bare without them, but they’re very nice hands. You follow the stark line of a bone down from his knuckles and focus in on his simple wrist watch as you explain. 
"It took me an hour to get her to finish a slice of toast this morning. I usually wouldn’t make her finish, but she's not eating well." 
You don't have to say who. Eddie tips his head back to eat a handful of fries like a courtesan eating grapes, all grandness. 
"Teething?" 
"She has all her teeth already," you say. A laugh bubbles up, delighted at his suggestion. 
"What do you think it is?" 
You wipe the corner of your mouth with a napkin and shrug. Eddie sees straight through your forced nonchalance. 
"No, seriously. What do you think?" 
"I don't know. Maybe she's gonna come down with the flu. She didn't sleep all night either, and…" You rub your tired eyes with the backs of your hands. "I don't know. I hope she's feeling better at pick up, but I doubt it." 
"How are you feeling?" He says 'you' softly, almost crooning. 
"Tired, Eds." 
"I can see that." 
The door opens and a breeze whips your ankles. You hide them further under the table and cringe when you kick Eddie straight in the foot. He only raises his eyebrow at you and kicks you back. "What's your problem?" he mumbles under his breath, smiling. 
When the burgers are gone and there's only a couple of cold fries left, you and Eddie fall into conversation about tonight. He's finally playing a gig after months without one, and you're riddled with guilt. 
"I wish I could come," you tell him, feeling gutted that you won't see him in action. 
You wonder what he looks like on stage. Sometimes it's hard to coalesce the Eddie you know and the other Eddie, rocker Eddie. He's so sweet. The image of him on stage and sweating, rocking out, you can't summon it. 
You clear your throat. "I'm sorry we can't." 
Eddie shakes his head quickly, fingers playing with the chain around his left wrist. "Don't worry about it. Junebugs's gotta sleep. You gotta sleep." 
You pick at your nails, shame-faced. If you were a good friend you'd go and see him perform, but you're a good mom so you can't. Maybe you could get a sitter… only you don't trust anybody to look after her. Not the way you would. And people can be evil.
Maybe I could take her to the Hideout, you think tentatively.
You couldn't. It's too loud, it's too rowdy. You're not sure they'd even let you in with a baby. 
"Sorry," you say again, dropping your cheek into your palm. 
Eddie doesn't smile. He turns his wrist, the back of his hand to the table and his palm open between you. 
"Don't be sorry," he says. He watches your face and slowly, slowly, mischief creeps into his expression. "How about I give you a private show?" 
Your breath catches in your throat. 
"You and June've never heard me play. I could bring an amp. June can play drums. You'll sing." 
His allocation shocks you out of your thoughts. "Why can't you sing?" 
"What will you do, then? If I sing?"
You flounder.
He lifts his coke to his lips and smirks at your silence. "Exactly." 
"Eddie, I can't sing." 
He waves his hand at you rather than answer. 
"I won't sing." 
"Oh, you won't?" he asks, tone enough to make you cross your legs under the table. He rolls his eyes. 
"No. Let Junie do it. She's always singing." 
"And you'll-? What?"  
You shrug. He imitates you, over-exaggerated enough to make you gasp a laugh.
“Is that supposed to be me?"  
He ignores your question in favour of his own. "You'll do nothing. Typical." 
"You're getting too big for your boots, Munson," you warn, sliding his plate on top of yours. 
He stacks your empty glasses. The two of you stand and linger. He should go back to work. You should too.
"I'll come over tomorrow?" he asks finally. 
"Okay." You look over him in his clean clothes and neater than usual hair and can't help smiling. "I'll see you tomorrow," you say quietly, opening your arms just slightly. 
Eddie takes the hint and wraps his arms quickly around your shoulders, careful of the plates in your hand. He rubs them once, a good, grounding pressure across the breadth of your back. Your nose presses against his neck. He smells like aftershave and cigarette smoke and skin. 
Before you know it he's pulling away, the end to an amicable embrace between friends. Almost disappointing, not quite what you want anymore, but a relief and a comfort all the same. 
He chucks your chin. "Tell Junie I miss her." 
"I will."
"Okay." He turns to walk away. "Bye, sweetheart," he shoots over his shoulder. 
"Bye!" you call. 
The door shudders in his wake. You stand there watching until Benny clears his throat pointedly and asks you to come and make some more coffee. 
You rush through the rest of the day. You finish earlier than you should because Benny's in a gracious mood, thrusting your tip jar into your arms with a command to get some sleep. You promise you'll try your best and head out for the daycare. 
Junie's asleep in a bean bag by the baby gate when you get there. You stop dead in your tracks. She has her shoes and coat on already, her backpack in her lap. You look up at the childcare worker in charge today, a nice lady called Deborah, quizzically. 
"She's been like that for an hour. I'm sorry we couldn't keep her awake." 
You pout at Junie. "Why she got her coat on?" 
"She insisted. Screamed bloody murder. Think she was excited to see you," she says, smiling softly. 
You smile in return. "Thank you, Deborah. Have a nice weekend.”
Deborah nods and disappears back into the play room. You open the baby gate with likely less dexterity than you should have as a mom and drop to your knees in front of the beanbag, careful not to make too much noise. You're wondering if you can carry her to the car without waking her up when her foot moves, then her arms. They fall to her side as her eyes open. 
"Hey, baby," you say, feeling weirdly emotional. She looks so lovely and pretty, and if she's sick that's gonna pluck your heart strings (and cause a boat load of problems). 
"Mommy," she mumbles, eyes bleary.
"That's me." You reach out to squeeze her little thigh. "My poor girl, what's the matter? Does your tummy hurt?" you ask carefully.
She blinks. 
"Why're you sitting here all by yourself? You didn't want to play with Adrien? Or Lucy?"
When she doesn't reply you take her backpack and thread your hand through the strap, offering your open arms to her. She can barely sit up, her movements slow and sluggish. 
"Here," you murmur, sliding your hands under her armpits and pulling her into your chest. 
She finally smiles, hands bunched up at the collar of your shirt. You leave some room to look at her and she looks at you. You're surprised she's not whining or crying. 
"Hey," you say again, amazed at her droopy smile. "You look like you've had a good day." 
Her head drops forward. You think she's nodding, though that might be wishful thinking. You don't even know if toddlers can nod. 
Of course they can nod, you think to yourself scathingly. I mean… can they? 
And Junie isn't like most toddlers. She hasn't really done anything by the book. She meets milestones when she wants to, sometimes early, sometimes really, really late. 
You pat her back, her nylon coat crinkly under your hand. "Ready to go home?" 
You stand up with her clutched to your chest. Usually you'd have her say goodbye to Deborah or the other daycare workers but Junie doesn't look like she knows her own name right now. You frown at her and encourage her forehead against your chin, trying to gauge if she's a little warmer than usual. 
"I missed you," you tell her honestly. You miss her every single day. "I want to know everything you did today. Do you remember what you did?"
Junie pushes against your chest with her hand as you walk out of the daycare centre and into the parking lot. 
"Did you do… colouring? Or… building blocks? Did you sing?" you ask, grinning. 
You cross the road, and when you look back she's staring at you, straight into your eyes. 
"Hi," you say with a laugh. 
Her hands rise to your face, fingers thankfully clean and warm against your wind-bitten cheeks. You slow, gazing down at her expectantly. She raises her chin as high as she can and smiles big. 
"You want a kiss. I can tell," you croon smugly. 
She kisses you. It's a little drooly as baby kisses always are, but it's the best thing that's happened to you all day. It's always so surprising when she initiates affection. That she loves you just as much as you love her. 
You steal another kiss. 
"Guess what?" you ask, reaching a hand to stroke a little baby hair back. 
She says a word that isn't real. It sounds like 'mod'. 
"It's payday today, which means…" You beam at her. "Ice cream!" 
That grabs her attention. 
-
Eddie can't believe it. "You had what without me?" he asks over the phone. 
Junie herds your knees, arms around your legs and face turned to the TV. You stand slumped against the wall where your phone is plugged, curling the landline's coiled cord around your finger so Junie can't grab it. 
"Ice cream," you supply helpfully. 
His voice isn't easy to understand. The Hideout is a very loud place. Eddie's practically shouting down the line. "I can't believe it." 
"It couldn't be helped. She needed to be tempted." 
"Tempted! Has she eaten anything else?" 
You look down at the girl in question and reach down to rub her back. "Oh yeah. She ate like, an entire bag of lays, one of the big ones. She still smells like honey barbecue." 
"Nothing else?" 
You sigh, that creeping, ringing thought edging in. You're a bad mom. 
"I made her cereal, and celery sticks and sandwiches and little cut up peaches and- and she won't touch any of it," you say, like you're promising. Your tone begs to be believed.
There's a loud racket. Eddie shouts, "What did you say? I can't hear you!" 
You repeat yourself. You miss the start of what he's saying, but you catch, "-not your fault! She's probably just having a moment. You remember when she kept throwing her bottle? She doesn't do that anymore." 
You nod. "Yeah, maybe it's like that. She's figuring she has choices." Not the best timing for your kid to decide she's gonna get picky. 
"Exactly! Or maybe she is sick. Does she look sick?"
You look back down at Junie and feel across her smooth forehead for the twentieth time today. "She doesn't feel warm." 
"Good. I'm sure she-" You miss the rest. 
"I can't hear you," you say with a small laugh. "I can hear the drum kit though. Are you going on soon?"
"I said, 'I'm sure she's fine.' And yeah, couple of minutes." 
"Okay. Um. I'll let you go, then." 
"Okay." A small gap where you think he's hung up, but then, "Can I talk to her?" 
You bite back a smile. "Sure." 
You kneel down. Junie looks a short fall from suspicion, though her arms quickly reach out for a hug.
"June, d'you wanna talk to Eddie?" 
"Eddie?" she asks, turning to the door. 
You catch her hand before she can walk away. "No, babe, on the phone." 
You sit down flat with your legs crossed and encourage her to do the same. She doesn't not want to be encouraged, eyes still trained on the door. 
"Baby," you say, though you're bringing the phone to your mouth as you do. "Are you still there?"
"Yeah, I'm here." 
"Okay, I'm gonna pass her the phone and you're gonna have to talk straight away, because she doesn't know how it works. Alright?"  
"Yeah, alright. Bring on the junebug." 
You press the phone to Junie's ear. She looks startled and then annoyed, shoulder hiking and head moving in like she might push it away. You can see the moment she realises Eddie is on the other side, her lips part and her eyes widen in wonder. 
She listens for a while, flabbergasted. You think you might be able to hear his voice. Not what he's saying, but his bubbly baby tone. 
"Eddie," she says suddenly. She looks at you, says a bunch of nonsense words and babbling punctuated by Eddie Eddie Eddie. 
"Are you listening to him?" you ask, excited at her recognition. 
She grabs the phone out of your hand and stares at it. You try to wrangle it back and put it back to her ear. She is not happy. 
Hardly news that your toddler's mood may swing, you shove the phone between your head and your shoulder and wrap her up in your arms with a placating shush. She starts to cry regardless. You think they might be crocodile tears. 
"Eddie?" 
"Sweetheart, I gotta go, okay? I'm sorry if I upset June–" 
"You didn't, you didn't, she–" 
"– I'll make it up to you, I swear."
"– misses you, I think–" 
"See you tomorrow, okay?" 
"Okay. Good luck!" you say. The line's already dead. The dial tone makes your ear prickle. 
You feel upset for a second. It's a mess of feelings. You're too tired to deal with any of them. 
"Eddie?" Junie asks, hands pulling at the hem of her nightie. 
"Just mommy," you say with a smile. The longer she looks at you the easier it gets. "You wanna go to bed and cuddle?" 
She laughs and runs away from you.
"I'll take that as a no." 
-
Eddie knocks the door and doesn't get an answer. 
He pauses, a bouquet behind his back and his acoustic guitar heavy around his neck, a grocery bag hanging from the crook of his elbow. It's a very heavy grocery bag. He'd figured he has a lot of apologising to do this afternoon. 
It seems like there's no one home to apologise to. 
"Girls? It's me." 
Still no answer. 
"Eddie," he adds, like a loser.
He thinks he can hear small footsteps. 
"Eddie!" 
He laughs to himself. "Junebug? Where's mommy?" 
"Hello?" you call finally. 
"Hey, can you let me in?" 
He keeps the flowers hidden firmly behind his back as you open the door. He hears the deadbolt, the chain slide free and then the regular old lock unlocking, and you pull the door open and suddenly he can't breathe. You look that pretty. 
"Eddie!" Junie shouts, to his pleasure. 
You grin brilliantly as he steps over the threshold. 
Junie's arms are quickly around his legs. She's in a sweet blue dress and frilly socks looking almost as pretty as her mom does, hair neat and tidy, face pristine. 
You're nearly matching her. You've a soft white shirt on, tucked into a simple blue skirt and a cardigan to match. 
You barely stop to look at him, flitting back to the kitchen where you’ve brown paper bags upended, the fridge and freezer doors both wide open. "Sorry, I'm just putting the groceries away. How did the gig go? Did you rock the house?" You giggle to yourself.
Eddie wants to scream, you’re that endearing. “It went great. Awesome. Not sure I rocked the house, but it was metal.”
"Amazing! I- I'm sorry I didn't hear you, I was in my own head," you say as you go, stepping over toys and frozen peas and Junie's Muppet Babies backpack like a natural. He notices your small white socks and feels himself slipping that little bit further into a terrifying feeling.
He doesn't have time to tell you it's okay, or that he wishes you’d been at the gig, or to watch your step. Junies's babbling for his attention and he'd rather die than not give it to her, moving the grocery bag he has hanging from his hand over her head and tossing it toward the couch, where it lands and spills. 
"Okay, June, I'm gonna pick you up," he says quickly, pulling the guitar over his head. He props it up by the open doorway, Junie tugging at his jeans the whole while. 
"So demanding!" he teases, scooping her up to prop on his hip and unveiling the flowers at the same time. 
You aren't looking. He nudges them towards her face and shakes them gently. 
Junie can't decide what's more fun, the flowers or Eddie. She wraps her arms around his neck as best as she can but stares at the flowers with a dawning comprehension. 
"What are these, baby?" he asks, holding them lower so she can see them all in view. They're mostly red. There's some whites too, big round roses among other flowers he can't name. 
"Red," she says quickly. "White. Yellow, blue, green." 
She's not right, there aren't any yellows or blues, but he can only blame himself for drilling them into her the way he had. She's showing off that she knows them all, and she deserves some praise. 
"Good job! Red, white," he shakes the bouquet enough to reveal a few small pink ones, "pink flowers. They're pretty, don't you think? Pretty as you and mommy?" He hums to himself, patting her back thoughtfully. “Maybe not that pretty." 
You're not listening. If you were he's not sure he could say it, not while you're looking like you do. You're always pretty, always, but right now he feels like he did the first time he saw you. Just gone. 
Junie tells him something, a more factual tone and air about her. He rubs the top of her upper arm encouragingly, asking, "Is that right?" 
"Do you want food?" you call. 
He sets June down on her feet and she hates it until he wraps her hands around the bouquet's neck. "Can you give these to your mom for me? Please?" Junie stares at them. "For mommy," he adds, pointing at you where you're closing the cabinet door. 
Junie, the tiny smarty-pants that she is, runs to you. Eddie's a coward for it, but he doesn't think he can give them to you himself under honest pretenses, doesn't think he could admit that he'd been thinking about getting you flowers for a while now. Much easier to have her give them to you. 
You make a sound like you've swallowed a gasp and stare at them. 
"They're nice, right? I saw them and I thought they'd make a good apology for last night." 
You don't take them. You can't contain a smile, but you don't take them. 
"I'm sorry if I made any trouble for you," he says tentatively. 
You drop your hand on top of Junie's head. Your tone is warm, each word reassuring. "No, you didn't. She just… you know, she has a routine, and she loves when you come around. She missed you. That's not your fault." 
"Okay, good. I missed her too. Nobody can jam out like she can.”
Junie whacks you in the thigh. Eddie's starting to think he did something wrong because you still haven't taken them from her, your eyes as unreadable as the way your hands move, rigid and curling. 
You shake them out and finally take the flowers. 
"Thanks, baby," you say. Then, looking at him. "Thank you." 
"You can get me back," he says. 
Shell shock turns to eagerness. "Yeah, anything." 
He picks up the spilled groceries and brandishes them at you. In one hand is this week's dessert, a huge carton of rocky road ice cream, the fancy kind with big chocolate chips and fluffy marshmallows on top. In the other, a plastic jug of your favourite drink. 
"Find room for these in the fridge?"
Since accepting them, you've yet to put down the flowers, holding them protectively to your chest as you take what he’s offering and carry them into the kitchen.
June runs full pelt at his legs and he doesn't hesitate to pick her up. 
"You're so happy today!" he cheers, saccharine sweet as she burrows her little face into his collar. "Have you been having a good day with mom? I love your matching outfits." 
You try to hide how the compliment affects you, face buried in the freezer. He knows without a shadow of a doubt that your freezer has ample room, you don’t need to look for space. and he can see the way your hand tightens around the bouquet. He loves how shy you've become lately over his compliments, no matter how small. It's worth the possibility of making a fool of himself to see you flustered. 
Junie reports back on the day. Eddie listens intently for words he might understand but finds none. 
He doesn't let this bother him, leaning against the counter behind so he can hold Junie low on his stomach to watch her expressions flicker, hands encapsulating her back. She looks happy, obviously, but she also looks very intent on something. 
"Yeah?" he asks, tilting his head toward her knowingly. "Was the grocery store exciting? Did you do anything else?" 
"Duckies!" she says. 
"Duckies? You saw ducks?" he asks curiously, looking to you for confirmation. 
You're still holding your flowers to your chest. 
Junie chatters. "Duck, duck, duck." 
"What's she talking about?" he asks, pulling her up enough for her head to rub against his chin.
"Oh, we went to the duck pond. She was obsessed," you say. 
"Right, right. Can't say I blame her.” 
"Trying to explain why they weren't yellow took some dedication." 
Eddie smiles at you softly. "You can put them down, you know." 
Your eyes flicker between him and the flowers. "I- nobody's ever got me flowers before. I don't know what I'm s'posed to do with them. I don't… have a vase." 
He hadn't realised he'd be the first guy to get you flowers. It makes him wanna wrap you up and hug you, because how is it fair that a girl like you never got flowers? Not once? 
"Shit," he says instead. 
He flinches hard and looks at Junie. She's too busy with her hands in his hair to notice what he's said. He apologises anyways. 
You roll your eyes. Eddie's relieved to see it's with obvious fondness, a funny lopsided smile to your lips. 
"If she starts dropping s-bombs, you're the one who has to deal with it," you warn. 
"I will.” 
He takes a step toward you and you take a step toward him.
You hum and hold the flowers up to Junie as he had before. "Aren't these just something else? Look how pretty they are! Why don't you pick one, baby?" 
Eddie shifts her onto the right side and you both watch her touch them, hands adorably careful as she feels the leaves between her fingers and pokes the fuzzy yellow centre of a flower with white, round petals. 
"That one?" you murmur, pulling it out from the rest with the same adorable carefulness. 
Junie accepts the flower and immediately shows it to Eddie, ecstatic.
“Yellow," she proclaims. 
"And white," he says, ruffling the petals with his index finger. 
She smells like talc and you, that soft jasmine perfume, and her hair is fragrant where it tickles his face. He indulges and hugs her that little bit tighter. She indulges him in turn and hugs him back, the flower petals cold and silky against his neck. 
"How do you…" You scratch the base of your neck. "Do you think I could squeeze all the stalks into one glass?" 
It's only a bunch from the grocery store but he thinks a glass might be a little too small. "Maybe you can split it? Have one in your room, one in here." 
You set about following his suggestion, snipping away the cellophane with a pair of scissors and acquiring two tall glasses. The stalks are tall. You trim them down and begin arranging them. Eddie has no clue why you're being as particular as you are but he's happy for you to do as you please, traipsing into the living room where Junie seems to have been running rampant before his arrival with intentions of cleaning up.
He closes the front door and bends at the waist to let Junie back on her feet. 
She goes down easy enough. Eddie turns on the TV to keep her occupied while he whips around the room. He wants to clean (as best as he can) before you see him and tell him to stop. He puts your small handbag and Junie's backpack at the sideboard by the door. He sweeps up all of her toys and tucks them under the television as you would, then moves onto the rogue dirtied pajamas on the floor. They're Junie's favourites, the ones with tiny strawberries that she always chooses when given the option. 
Your laundry basket isn't anywhere in the living room or kitchen. He attempts to sneak past you where you're still arranging flowers intently. The sight of you stops him in his tracks. 
I need to get her a vase, he thinks. And another bouquet.
You turn to him, a pleased expression turning your features from pretty to chest-achingly lovely. 
He holds up the pajamas and then keeps on down the hall to the bathroom, even as you chasten, "Eddie," with a fond exasperation. 
You showcase your first bouquet upon his return, sheepish, awaiting judgement. You're conflicted tonight, a handful of emotions shaken and stirred. 
"Tada," you sing. 
"Looks sick, sweetheart. If this whole waitressing thing doesn't work out for you, you could definitely be a florist."
You huff a laugh. "Oh, for sure." 
"I'm serious. It looks really nice." 
He thinks maybe he can see the way you might've been before, in that moment. There's something so young – and you are young, as he is, as he keeps forgetting – about your face and how you take praise. You look like you want desperately to brush it away, and you look like you want him to give you more. 
He stands close enough that you're forced to turn back to the counter where the second bouquet is taking form. "This one looks nice too." 
"I thought I'd put the prettiest one out here." You lean back and your shoulder presses to his chest. "And then the reject in my room," you say, chin lifted to look him dead in the eye. 
He feels heat crawling up his neck and decides to fight fire with fire, even if the fire is entirely imagined. "Do you often have rejects in your bedroom?" he questions with a smarmy smile. 
You laugh. Far from the polite and prim giggling you'd used when you first met, though that was cute, too, this laugh is something else. He wishes he had a tape deck with him to record it, play it back. 
"Only if they're very pretty," you say. You place the last of the flowers into the second bouquet. "And these ones are beautiful. Thank you, Eddie. You didn't have to get me flowers." 
"I wanted to." 
Your head falls gently against the top of his shoulder. He stands very still. 
The faucet drips. The TV plays. If he listens, Eddie can hear the sound of kids outside on their bikes, shouting and jeering. 
Like this, he can see the curve of your neck, the hill of your chin. He can see the pillows of your lips and the slopes of your cheek. The darling shape of your nose. He knows a kiss would fit there well, fit there perfectly, if he would only raise his hand to your shoulder. Turn you ever so slightly.
Even the flat of your forehead begs for affection. He can almost feel it from looking at you – the warmth of your skin under his lips. He can't decide whether he'd kiss you from temple to temple, or smack dab on your crown. Between your brows, at the tail of them. The corner of your eye might work.
Anything would work.
Eddie lifts his hand. Careful not to startle you, he cups the side of your waist like he had before a hundred moons ago when you'd cut his hair in this same kitchen. He spreads his fingers wide and inches over your soft abdomen, feeling for the shape of you. 
You turn your cheek into his shoulder. He lets his lips touch the back of your head. 
Plinking echoes from the living room sudden enough to startle you in tandem. Kids caught with their hands in the cookie jar, you and Eddie both turn to the living room and come away from one another. You're more confused than Eddie at the sound; a split-second and you're out of reach. 
He closes his hand and follows you. Now past the obscurification of the cabinets, he can see that Junie's finally noticed his guitar and has pulled it down flat on the floor. 
She plays with the strings enthusiastically. Eddie can't bring himself to care at her roughness when she looks the way she does, curious and entertained, giggling her contagious baby laugh. 
"I forgot you brought that," you say, looking to him, he suspects, for a cue. A silent, Is she allowed?
Of course she is. “I told you I'd give you a private show."
"What happened to the amp?" 
"My hands were full." Eddie sits on the floor to Junie's left. "Whatcha doing, trouble?" 
She hits the neck. 
He takes her hand in a gentle grip and encourages the side of her finger across the strings. 
She laughs thick and sweet as honey. "Brmm," she imitates, lips pinching between giggles as he helps her do it again. 
"You're a total rockstar," he says. 
You kneel opposite. "She's gonna lose her mind when you play something." 
Eddie feels very smug at what's to come. 
You let Junie play for a time, and then you open your arms and she walks around to your side, sitting on your thighs. She continues to reach for the guitar, seems sulky when Eddie picks it up, and quietens when he plays an experimental note. 
"Are you gonna sing? I've heard you sing before, you know? You're not bad." 
You wrinkle your nose. 
First, he plays the Muppet Babies theme tune for June. She gets excited and starts to hum. You have to hold her in your lap to stop her from messing him up. He wouldn't mind if she did. He's hoping, maybe one day when she's old enough to understand, he could get her behind her own guitar. He's not kidding about starting a band. 
He drops his eyes to his fingers, shaking his head on instinct to try and shake away the thought. 
June sings and sings and eventually, quietly, you start to sing too. You’re purposefully not trying but any flatness is easily made up for by the familiarity of your voice alone. The way you talk, so charming and careful, the sweetness of your newfound shyness and the rough hint of ever-present tiredness you carry, it all seeps into your singing. Eddie adores it.
Junie almost gets some of the words right. It's very exciting for you, Eddie can see it in the tilt of your head. You enunciate precisely and he slows the tempo to give you time. 
"It really sounds like she's almost there. She definitely said 'dreams come true,’” he says as the song ends.
"You think?"
"Definitely. Do you want to sing it again?" he asks, words falling into a high-pitched sugar, eyes on Junie. 
"More?" you add, a slight correction. Junie doesn't know what 'again' means yet, but she understands 'more'. 
"More," she says seriously. 
You go through it one more time. If he plays slow to drag out your reluctant singing, that's his business. 
He unveils his next song with a dash of edgy stage presence. "For my next song, I'll be playing what can only be described as the absolute pinnacle of music." 
He sounds legitimate. 
Your eyebrows pinch together at his sombre attitude. "Sure." 
"I'm gonna play it as true to form as I can, but… I don't have a banjo. So…" 
He plays the first few seconds of Kermit The Frog's The Rainbow Connection. 
When he sings, he does it after an internal pep talk consisting of a scathing, Be brave, idiot. 
"Why are there so many, songs about rainbows. And what's on the other side?" he sings, trying and failing to sound like Kermit. He abandoned that pursuit immediately in favour of his regular voice. Thankfully it's a slow song. Simple. It doesn't take much to play, either. The real challenge are the lyrics, which he doesn't really know. "Rainbows are visions, but only… illusions?"
You bob your head appraisingly, hands crossed over Junies front, cheek pressed to the top of her head. 
"And rainbows have nothing to hide." 
You’re making it impossible to concentrate, looking as earnest, homespun, and ridiculously pretty as you do. Pretty in more than just your looks. The way that you watch him, the way you rub a pattern over Junie's ribs, it’s all so indicative of your heart.
He fucks up the rest. Bad timing, amateurish fingering over the struts, lyrics that escape him. You'd never know he could play Master of Puppets a month after it's debut from the way he performs now. 
You cheer, gathering Junie's hands into yours to help her clap. 
He blushes like a fool. 
Dinner tonight – take out. 
You're prouder than you should be when Eddie asks, "Can I help you cook tonight?" and you get to say, "No, you can't. I'm not cooking." 
You'd never shake your head at a frozen pizza but there's an irreplaceable satisfaction that comes from getting hot food delivered. Maybe it's the convenience, maybe it's that you don't have to cook it yourself. It might even be the grease. Whatever it is, it tastes better than any freezer food ever could.
You've trapped Junie in her high chair. Diaper changed, pajamas on, bib in place. You rolled her sleeves all the way up and gave her two slices of cheese pizza cut into small pieces that have been blown on for a more than generous amount of time and tell her to go ham. She doesn't bother with her plastic fork and you don't blame her, eating your own pizza in a similar fashion. 
Rather than sit opposite you or next to Junie, Eddie has opted for the chair on your left. Junie on your right, your daughter eats with an animated little grin that apples her cheeks, giving her that chubby baby-like smile. 
"You see her smile?" you ask, taking a big bite of perfect crust. You have to stop yourself from sighing happily, fingers covered in crumbs. 
"Yeah?" Eddie asks, pizza sauce or his face like a little kid. 
You sit back in your chair so he can really see her. "She's always been a smiley baby, and when she was much smaller all her smiles were so chubby cheeked. She was chubby cheeked. Now when she smiles like that she makes me remember her when she was a baby." 
"I'm not surprised she was a smiley baby if she had you… D'you miss having a baby?" 
"Watch yourself," you say, and then giggle as all the blood drains from his face. "Kidding. I don't know if I miss having a baby baby. I mean, she's so little, she's practically still a baby. But I do kinda wish I could go back and hold her as a newborn." 
Eddie wipes his cheek and stands up to get some paper towels. He wipes his face and hands and grabs the juice from the fridge to fill his glass (that's basically still full) and then yours (the real reason he'd stood, you reckon). 
"Was she heavy?" he asks.
You worry for a moment he's humouring you. It's clear how much you love Junie, you know it is, and that shows in how much you want to talk about her. You'd never expected that part, though of course it makes sense – sometimes she smiles and you wanna call the newspapers – and you don't think Eddie's insincere. He seems like he genuinely wants to know and that's enough for you to want to round the table and throw your arms over his shoulders. 
"I think…" You pick up your glass and hesitate with the rim to your lip. "I think if you'd held her back then, you wouldn't think she was heavy." 
He practically smolders, bringing an arm up to tense his bicep. "Thank you." 
You laugh at him. "Shut up! I just think, you've been good with her ever since you met her. When I held her for the first time it's a good thing I was laying down. I probably would've dropped her." 
Eddie takes Junie's sippy cup to fill. You'd say it was a waste if he hadn't bought it himself, she's too busy eating her weight in cheese to care about something as rudimentary as juice. 
"You would not have dropped her." 
"I would've." 
"You wouldn't have! And if you did, it would've been an accident. Next point, they don't have skulls, right? No harm, no foul." 
"Who told you babies don't have skulls?" 
"...I'm not at liberty to say." 
You eat the rest of your crust and shake your head at his misguided education. "They have skulls, Eddie. The scalp is super soft and fragile for ages, but they definitely have skulls. You know what they don't have?" 
Eddie squeezes Junie's shoulder as he walks behind her. "What?" he asks in alarm, passing you to sit down again. His knees touch the side of your thigh.
"Kneecaps." 
His hand stops on the way to the pizza box, body frozen. 
"What?" he asks, his alarm doubled.
"Swear down. No knee caps." 
"Don't they need them? For crawling? I feel like knee caps are more important than skulls." 
"If you didn't have a skull you wouldn't be able to breathe," you say, though you're guessing. 
"What use is breathing if you can't move?" 
You turn to him to take him in properly. You beam, because this is an outlandish conversation and you're enjoying every second of it and he looks just as happy as you feel. 
"Do babies need to move? June could never move again and I'd still look after her,” you counter.
"Sweetheart, you're cheating." 
"I can't exactly breathe for her-" 
"What are you talking about? Of course you could. I don't know how but you'd find a way, Y/N, I know what you're like." 
Your teeth click together, a funny retort squashed down by his unexpected admittance of faith. He always does this; Eddie loves to tell you the kindest things anyone has ever told you like they don't cost him a thing. 
"I would," you agree, blinded by love rather than supported by any logic. 
"Mommy," Junie says, like she knows she's the topic of your hypothetical devotion and she wants in. "More pizza"
"Please?" you tack on, though her small sentence had impressed you to the point of elation. You turn to her already with your hand in the pizza box. 
"Pizza," she says. You love the way she says it, like the 'zuh' sound at the end is a complete surprise. 
The pizza's cold enough by now to give it to her intact. She's amazed at the big slice you put on her plate, picking it up with a coordination you know is taking a lot of effort for her. 
"Good job, baby," you praise, using her distraction to pull a little string of cheese off of her messy cheek. 
She takes a huge bite. You watch her worried she's gonna choke, and feel Eddie's knees press deeper into your thigh as he moves forward to join in. 
"Is it weird that she's impressing me right now?" he asks. 
You giggle and roll your shoulders back until you can feel the brush of his hair against your shirt. "No, she's awesome."
For dessert, you insist on plating up. Or bowling up. You scoop a more generous than she should really have portion for Junie, something similar for Eddie, and a normal portion for yourself. 
"On the couch?" Eddie asks. 
You can see him cleaning up Junie out of the corner of your eye. You wish he wouldn't but you're grateful that he does. His attentiveness makes your hands feel heavy in that you remember you have them, and you remember what it's like to want to hold someone else's. 
"Yeah," you say, though eating on the couch makes you nervous. You don't want to ruin it. You're lucky you even have one. 
Eddie scoops Junie up easy and pats her back.
“You put away a lot of cheese, kid. A lot. Was that yummy or what?" 
She burps. His laughter is roaring and boyish as he applauds her. 
"You're patting her back, she's gonna keep burping.”
"That's what you're supposed to do for babies, isn't it?" 
He stands under the harsh kitchen light with his face turned away and down toward Junie, hair a mess of flyaways, t-shirt covered in shiny toddler fingerprints over one shoulder and jeans slipping down low on his hips. Your explanation comes breathlessly. "When you give a baby a bottle they suck in too much air and it gives them trapped wind. You burp that kind of baby. Not greedy almost three year olds." 
"She is not almost three." 
"I think I'd know, Munson." 
"She's like, two and a half at most." 
"I'm rounding up for emphasis," you say, and glare at his eyebrows rising. 
He pats her back some more anyways. She burps again and he laughs even more. "Juniper The Burpiest," he says to himself as he walks away, voice fading as he settles down across the way on the couch. 
Junie has crashed and burned, warm thick cheese and dough putting her quickly into a close to listless state in his lap. He faces her out toward the TV and she leans heavily against his chest with his hands around her torso, propping her up. You shepherd in the desserts. 
"Gimme Junie's," Eddie says. 
"She's gonna fall asleep," you say, but pass it over anyhow. 
Eddie places the bowl of rocky road in her lap with a hand between to stop from making her legs cold and starts to spoon ice cream into her mouth. She accepts. It's adorable to watch. His face over her shoulder, Junie's face slowly deflating, eyes bleary and blinking as her lips close lazily around the spoon. She barely flinches at the cold. 
You eat your own ice cream in the seat next to them and wonder if this is forever. 
Eddie wipes her chin with the side of his hand and watches her head fall. He wears a loving smile. It makes you want to cry, to know someone else loves her. 
You let all your weight fall against his shoulder and eat your ice cream casually. This is the least casual thing you've ever done. Spoon in your mouth, you press your cheek to the top of his arm and glue your gaze to the TV. 
You swear you can feel his eyes on you, but when you chance a look he's watching the TV, head inclined to yours ever so slightly, a hand brushing Junie's hair from her dozing face. You're weak. You give yourself over to what you want and turn your nose to his arm. He smells lIke he always does, warm in the truest definition of the word. 
You close your eyes. After a few minutes, you feel Eddie take the bowl from your hands and set it next to Junie's. You want to open your eyes and say sorry but they’re heavier than you'd thought, and you can only manage a murmur of sound. 
His hand sliders under your elbow and curls around your arm. His head drops on top of yours so softly you almost don't feel it. 
You doze, digging your face further into his arm, feel the curve of it under your cheek and the cut off of his sleeve rising. 
A frayed thread tickles your cheek and you complain without thinking, sighing your annoyance. 
"What?" Eddie asks. 
You raise a hand to rub at your face and eyes. "Tickled me." 
"Did I? M'sorry." 
"T-shirt. Did you cut them yourself?" 
"You know it. Was going through a phase." 
"Going through." 
"Say it to my face," he says. Soft, teasing. 
You lift your head and find him smiling at you. 
He has a beauty mark under his eye, occluded near completely by his eyelashes. You can't believe you've never noticed it before. 
"You have a freckle," you whisper.
"Where?" He nods. "Under my eye?" 
"Yeah." 
You sit up and stare at him. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back. "I've never seen it before," you continue, still whispering. "It blends in with your eyelashes." 
"I think you're the first person to see it who isn't my mom. No one ever looks at me this long,” he says quietly.
If his eyes weren't closed you'd never have had the courage to do what you do next. You raise your hand with his cheek, thumb pressed to the skin beside his nose and fingers slipped under his ear. You turn his face toward the light. Eddie lets you without complaint, his breath warm where it fans over your thumb. You push your fingers further until they've threaded into his soft hair, your thumb brushing up under his eye. You part his mess of dainty lashes with your thumbnail until the beauty mark is clear in view. 
"That's so sweet," you whisper, awed. 
Eddie readjusts Junie in his lap with an overabundance of caution and doesn't speak. He's lax under your touch. 
"It's really pretty. You had it since you were a baby?" 
"I think so." 
You laugh under your breath. 
"What?" he asks. 
"It suits you." Something pretty hiding in plain view. 
"I heard," he says hedgingly, "that freckles are a sign of how you died in a past life." 
"Yeah?" 
"Yeah. Bet it was something really gross, like a parasitic worm-" 
"Ew." 
"Or someone stabbed me. Or shot me. With an arrow." 
"You're only twenty. Your past life would have still been in this century." 
Eddie opens his eyes just to glare at you. "Don't deprive me of a badass past life. How would you have had me die?" 
You push his hair from his face. "You know what I heard about them?" 
"What?" 
Fun to whisper with him like this. Like you’re younger than you are, trading secrets in the dim light. 
"I heard they're kisses from a past life." 
You raise your second hand to his cheek and cradle his face. 
Eddie leans into it. “You wanna give me one for the next?” he asks, a short fall from salacious. 
Your breath doesn’t catch. Your hands don’t shake. “Is that what you want?”
He falters. Bravado slips. Your heart skips a beat, worried maybe he doesn’t like you the way you’re thinking after all. 
“Y/N,” he says.
You can’t hear his rejection. You won’t. 
You close your eyes and kiss his cheek. Your nose slides over his skin, the heat of his blood under the surface warming your palms, and you steal a second there, two, breathing in his smell. If this is all you get, you can be okay with it. Eventually.
You pull away. 
“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says. You can’t tell if he’s joking or not.
𓆩❤︎𓆪
thank you for reading! | my masterlist | this fic is multi-chapter 
if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡
please forgive any mistakes and how long it took, i have been a bit unwell! hopefully it won’t be too long before part four :3
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tenjikyu · 2 months
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𝘥𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘺 𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘦𝘴 - 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘥.
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౨ৎ ⋆。˚ bonten!executives x manjiro’s son!reader , male!reader , izana lives bc fuck it we ball & he adds character to the fic , bonten all lives together in a massive penthouse just like my rockstar!reader fic bc that’s such a fun idea , reader is a very “ ion gaf ” character , reader is not biologically related to manjiro , reader has suffered through childhood abuse , more fluff then angst , going to make a part 2 .
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❤︎ the day manjiro sano found you, helpless and starved, he practically convinced himself to ignore you.
❤︎ alas, his big brother didn’t share the same sentiment, quickly walking over to you and overwhelming you with questions.
❤︎ izana talked your ear off, and all the executives present could see that you were pissed by his presence.
❤︎ deciding it would be better to just leave you be to die of starvation, he takes izana’s hand in his own before dragging him away.
❤︎ you barley crossed his mind after that.
❤︎ until he found you in an alleyway, drenched in blood that was certainly not your own.
❤︎ you were wielding a simple thin kitchen knife, and you were clearly distressed.
❤︎ looking over your shoulder, you notice the man’s presence behind you, and get in an offensive position, ready to attack need be.
“what happened?” the boy with frosted skin asked you, staring lifelessly at the rather large man that had a slice to his throat.
“he followed me back to the alleyway after i borrowed some apples from the store next to his. when i told him to leave, he didn’t.” you explain, glaring at the corpse next to you.
“and so, i had to take matters into my own hands.”
you seemed almost indifferent to the stench of blood, your eyes spoke a million words to manjiro. it was as though this was an all to familiar scenario for you.
“come boy, i’ll get you a change of clothes.” the man before you almost orders you. scoffing, you race to him and grip the knife to his throat.
“like hell i’m going anywhere with you.” you spit at the man, completely oblivious to just how dangerous he was, not that you would’ve cared regardless.
it’s a kill or be killed world, and you weren’t going to become apart of the former. not again.
manjiro only sighed, waving your hand away from him.
“come, or do you want the cops to find you? you aren’t getting anywhere dressed like that. if you’re with me, the police force won’t be able touch you.”
at the end of the day, you had just killed a man once more, and you knew deep down that the strange man in front of you was right.
there was no way you’re getting out of this alone.
❤︎ and so, you allowed the lean man to hold your even thinner wrist as he walks through the streets. it was about 10:00pm by now, and manjiro knew that his brother is probably blowing up his phone as you two walk.
❤︎ regardless, he takes you into a shady thrift shop and gets you dressed. nothing fancy, just a black hoodie with some worn jeans and a pair of 2nd hand converse shoes. not the best, but much better then the rags you were wearing beforehand anyways.
❤︎ as he made his way back to the penthouse, which could easily home more then 15 people, he finally answers his silenced phone.
❤︎ izana is giving him the usual earful about how he “shouldn’t leave without his big brother” and how “anyone could be tracking his movements.”
❤︎ manjiro only holds your little hand tighter as he steps into the place.
❤︎ immediately, 8 sets of eyes land on the two of you.
❤︎ the man with the curly white hair blankly stares into what feels like your soul. he slowly approaches you, before leaning down to his level.
❤︎ “you like taiyaki?”. his eyes crazed and still glaring into you.
❤︎ and thus, you were oddly enough, quickly welcomed into bonten.
❤︎ you were promptly fed and bathed, much to your discomfort, before being placed into one of the many spare bedrooms within their absolutely massive penthouse, right next to manjiro’s bedroom for simplicity’s sake.
❤︎ everything was a first for you, from the endless amount of food stocked in the home, to having adults around you that aren’t about to beat you senseless.
❤︎ after waking up from your first ever comfortable night asleep, you promised to yourself that you wouldn’t speak a word to any of these people.
❤︎ having your trust in the ones supposed to protect you abused and shattered doesn’t get fixed overnight, but that didn’t seem to bother any of the men around you.
❤︎ it has been 2 days since your arrival, and apart from manjiro showing you around, they seemed to mostly ignore your presence.
❤︎ you did whatever you wanted. watched TV, ate anybody’s food without a care in the world, interrupted all of the men from getting their work done and stolen an excessive amount of personal items that belonged to the executives, much to their confusion.
❤︎ some of them used the spare bedrooms as 2nd offices (apart from the one at HQ), and you used that as a way to learn more about the guys who had ripped you from the streets.
❤︎ and from that, you learned then that you were currently residing in the most dangerous home in japan, with the deadliest men in the country’s stolen goods scattered in your bedroom.
❤︎ your heart sunk when you heard someone enter the office you were in, only to find the head on bonten staring at you as you scrolled through his laptop.
❤︎ you only blinked, before slowly backing away from him, attempting to make a run for it.
❤︎ “let’s chat, (Y/N).” he takes ahold of your little wrist once more.
❤︎ fuck.
❤︎ you spent a good 2 and 1/2 hours talking to manjiro. you told him about your home life. how your mother slept around with the door wide open, and how your fathers empty bottles typically collided with your forehead if you took a breath too loud. you told him about how you had finally had enough, and murdered them both with the same knife you held to his throat only a few days ago.
❤︎ you told him about how school was a drag, and the kids there would often laugh at the marks left by your father. ‘the boy with unfortunate parents’ was your title, and you found yourself breaking the noses of the children teasing you. and so, you just stopped going.
❤︎ you told him more about yourself. how you (from what you could remember), were nine and turning ten next year, and what your interests were, heavily limited due to lack of exposure.
❤︎ not once did manjiro interrupt you as you spoke. he sat there, legs crossed and staring at you with an indifferent look.
❤︎ after you were done, he gently pulled you by the waist into his lap and ruffled your messy hair.
❤︎ “from now on, you only listen to what i say. you don’t need to listen to anyone else in the house, okay? just do as i say, and you’re free to do as you wish.”
❤︎ that’s all he says as he strokes your hair, attempting to have you drift off in his protective hold.
❤︎ and it works.
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A/N : part 2 is gonna have the reader interacting with the executives, as well as the father/son relationship form between him and manjiro.
uncle izana is gonna go so hard.
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tarjapearce · 5 months
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Hey I got a question,do you mind if we can draw the Soccer family ? Like Miguel kids? And if you allow us can you give us
What there wear ?
What is there feature ? (Like hair, eyes color, if there have scar, or mark, idk anything)
Who is the most trouble maker?
Who is overprotective? (besides Miguel 💀 and Y\N)
Who is most liking to prank each other ?
Who will take care of Alice more ? (Idk if I spell the baby right I'm sorry)
Who will be charged when Y\N or Miguel isn't there?
What is there favorite color?
Who is most liking to fight with Miguel (joking of course)?
Ik that you have a series about Miguel family\kids but but just in chase if you put more information about these beautiful kids (😭 there so cute ❤.) I love the idea of Miguel being happy and having three kids 😭 and having a soccer family!
I'd be honored if you guys do this, tbh ❤️. Sure do!
Gabi ⚽ wears comfy clothes, like soft fabric pants or shorts if it's too hot. Colorful and graphic tees, with either funny phrases or cute motifs. She adores the t-shirt uncle Gabriel gifted her when he returned. Full of famous soccer stars signatures. That's her treasure. Her favorite color is blue. Her hair is like Miguel's. Wavy and a deep dark chocolate brown. Her eyes are brown.
She's definitely the prankster (she printed the adoption certificate for Benji jskjs), and the big sister. Gabi is overprotective with Rosie. She's her lil sis after all!. She has even got some matching scrunchies set for the both. Also in charge when Miguel or Mama aren't around. (Still, Miguel would call the spider gang to send one of them to supervise his kids.)
Benjamin 🕷️ is always on the matching sets for earthy colors. He's a a stylish kid when the situation requires it. But when it does not, he's like his Papa. Little sweatpants and cotton shirts with slippers. He's a Mama's boy (Just like Miguel). Not overly spoiled but definitely loved. But don't mention his Spiderman plushie. He's almost 4. Big boy with growing fleckles and a troublemaker. His eyes got a bit more of the red-ish hue of Miguel, (Rosie too btw)
Fought Miguel for Mama's affection when a baby and ate spicy food after. He's a menace. One of the cutest kids in his classroom. White is his favorite color. (Even though Mama and Miguel have to buy extra bleach to keep the food stains away and the white crisp.) He loves teaching Rosie how to walk, even though Rosie is just a couple of months old. He's got Mama's curls.
Rosie 🌹 is a cute chubby baby with a beautymark on her ankle. Her little waves are shill having an identity crisis cause one day she wakes up super wavy, and the other is curly. Just like Benjamin. Definitely a Papa's girl. Red is her color. Mostly of her wardrobe is either red, pink or white with roses or strawberry motifs( She's Miguel's Rosita Fresita after all) full of beautiful headbands aunties Jessica and MJ gifted her in the little belated baby shower they had. Miguel's chest is her favorite place to sleep in (Just like Mama's).
A chomper that likes to bite Miguel’s fingers and cheeks. (And Mama's nipples, ouch.)
Hope this helps! ❤️
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eveatethefruit · 8 months
Note
First off... congratulations on 3k!
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Secondly... feel free to ignore or take all the time you need but I've always wanted a sequel to Together (That's the name right? I'm old lol where Steve let's Eddie be rough with the reader.) Could we get like a little blurb or drabble of Eddie teaching Steve somethings? Like how he got the reader to submit and obey?
Love you and your work! Always my fav❤😘
First off... thank you! And thank you for your constant support, it means. more than you know and always motivates me so much when I see you in my notifs <3
A little blurb regarding Together ...
1.5k Steddie, Sir!Eddie and Daddy!Steve , strong d/s dynamic with reference to female anatomy and sucking things lol
With maybe a hint at a part two? Who knows what this will inspire
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Submission : the action or fact of accepting or yielding to a superior force or to the will or authority of another person.
Superior force 
or to the will 
or authority 
“She has to believe that you are truly above her,” Eddie says, his voice husky as he speaks to Steve. 
The room was dark, lit only by candles and a dim warm hue from the small salt lamp in the corner of the room. 
The three of you had decided the best place to start these lessons was at Eddie’s - a place of neutrality in terms of your relationship, considering the semantics of it have yet to truly be discussed. 
All you know is that, for now, Eddie was the teacher, Steve was his student, and you were their subject to use. 
“Isn’t that like, anti-feminist?” Steve asks. You try not to chuckle at his naivety. His boyish charm always seems to shine through, the freckles on his cheeks and side smirk will always melt your heart. 
Which is sort of the crux of the problem.
Eddie sighs. “It’s the exact opposite, actually.” 
Eddie crouches down to where you’re knelt obediently, your hands on your lap, looking up at them as they speak above you. In the beautiful white lace set Steve had bought for your second anniversary a few months prior, you kneel patiently. 
Eddie’s ringed hand comes to your chin, tilting it up slightly as he looks deep into your eyes. “Anti-feminist would be if she did this against her will. But she wants this, we have full consent, don’t we sweetheart?” Eddie asks. 
Your brain always feels fuzzy around him, just the way he carries himself, how he talks down to you, how he looks at you…
You swallow. “Yes Sir.”
Eddie bites his lip as he looks between you and Steve. 
“See how her voice changes? That’s a sign of her slipping,” Eddie comments. 
“But how did you do it so easily?” 
“Well the kneeling position helps,” Eddie explains as he stands up and looks down at you. “But also because she knows I have the authority,” he smirks. 
“And if she denies my authority, she knows I am happily willing to use force,” Eddie says darkly, his hands rubbing together. 
A wetness pools between your legs. 
Steve looks at the way your body shrinks slightly. It’s different than fear, but the adrenaline is palpable as it radiates between the three of you. 
Steve moves to stand in front of you, looking down. You notice his eyes flit to your chest, and he adjusts himself. You can’t bite back the smile that takes over your face at his actions.
“Why is she smiling?” Steve asks, crossing his arms in frustration over his chest. 
Eddie chuckles as he looks at the confused boy. “She knows the power she has over you because she’s hot,” Eddie explains. “You make your need for her obvious. it’s a fine line between lust and desperation.”
Steve sighs, bringing a hand to run through his hair in frustration. 
Eddie’s tongue pokes out slightly as he decides how to get Steve to realize the power he has over you - how to take back his power over you that you so desperately want to give. 
“Sweetheart?”
Your ears perk up at Eddie’s nickname addressing you, looking at the curly haired man with expectant eyes. “Take your top off for me.”
You nod and bring your arms in front of you to undo the clasp that holds the bra together, but are stopped by Eddie’s stern voice - “How do you respond when I tell you to do something?”
You resist rolling your eyes, trying to be a good subject for Eddie and Steve. 
“Yes Sir.”
“Good girl. Continue,” Eddie replies, and you do as you're told, unclasping the hook and letting the straps fall down your arms, the material falling to your side, freeing your tits in front of you. You let out a small sigh of relief at the release and return your hands to your lap. 
Both men are eyeing your now naked chest, and you can tell Steve is holding back as Eddie’s eyes flick to watch his reaction. 
Eddie walks behind Steve and whispers something inaudible in his ear. It feels as though the heat in the room rises as Steve bites his lip and nods, his eyes never leaving you. 
You feel your hands starting to twitch while staying still, and have to focus on your breathing the longer you’re kept kneeling without fully submitting to them. 
Then Steve walks closer to you, leaving Eddie behind him as his hand reaches under your chin. He tilts your face up to look at him, his tall frame dressed in black as his eyes roam your face. 
You start to feel the fuzziness come in as he stays silent. 
He looks so good like this, looking down at you so confidently. It’s how you’ve wanted him to look at you for years, wanting to take ownership of you, to treat you like a prized possession. 
His thumb moves to trace over your lips, your mouth slightly parted as he rubs over them. 
He barely opens his mouth when he says, “Open”, and you do immediately, opening your mouth to let him slide his thumb in. 
You can see his pupils dilate, knowing that having him in your mouth is one of his favorite acts of pleasure. 
His jaw clenches. 
“Suck for me baby,” he tells you, his voice more stable than you’ve heard it before. Your eyes widen slightly as you process the command. 
“She’s hesitating,” Eddie comments, reminding you of his forgotten presence. 
Steve’s hand quickly moves from your mouth to your throat, giving a slight squeeze as he bends in front of you. “Don’t make me ask you again,” He threatens. You nod immediately and open your mouth, your tongue out waiting for him. 
He puts his thumb back inside and you immediately close your lips around it and suck. Your eyelids flutter slightly, losing yourself in the feeling of being told what to do by the sexy man above you. 
Eddie can’t help but smile at the sight. “Talk down to her Steve, she’s slipping.”
Steve swallows as you look up at him through long lashes. “Little baby just needs something in her mouth doesn’t she?” He says condescendingly. 
You can’t help the whine that slips past your lips. 
Eddie chuckles. “Aw see, she loves it. Keep going.” He moves to stand next to Steve now, standing so close to you the tips of his boots touch your knees. 
“So pretty with your mouth full honey,” Steve mutters. 
You wiggle slightly, your hands coming together, making your tits press against each other as you continue sucking on Steve’s thumb in bliss. His compliments mixed with his dominance is turning you into a puddle right beneath him. 
Eddie crouches down in front of you. He raises a hand to Steve, making him stop and pull his thumb from your mouth, leaving you to whine and pout. 
Steve chuckles above you, making you whine even more. 
“Look at me,” Eddie commands, and you do immediately. 
His big brown eyes scan your face, seeing your red cheeks and blown out eyes that are slightly teary. Your lips are already beginning to puff up from sucking, and your hips are shifting from needing friction between your legs. 
A wolfish grin creeps over the long haired boy’s face. 
“You like when Daddy Steve is in charge?” Eddie asks. 
You nod immediately. “Yes Sir.” 
Eddie’s eyes quickly look up to Steve in assurance. “He makes your little brain get all dumb and fuzzy huh?” Eddie asks. 
Your lower lip juts out as you mumble a weak “Yes Sir.”
“Tell me who’s in charge,” Eddie commands, standing up next to Steve. 
“You Sir.”
“And?”
“And Daddy,” you say quickly, looking to Steve and back to Eddie. Steve nods. 
Eddie lowers his chin, his face shadowed some by the dim lights. “I know your brain is all fucking fuzzy and gone, so I’ll ask you again - who is in charge of you?”
You inhale shakily as the dampness between your legs grows and your face feels hotter. “You and Daddy, Sir,” you say, your voice unrecognizable to yourself because of how small you’ve gotten. 
“There she is,” Eddie smirks. 
“Good girl baby,” Steve praises you. 
“And good job to you big boy,” Eddie smiles, at Steve. “Now let’s see if you can make her choke on your cock without giving in to her sobs.”
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angelsinthejungle · 2 months
Text
7 minutes in heaven with Iñaki
☁️ fluffy smutty ☁️
🤪 My wording can be garbage but the concept’s there I think. it’s just straight to the point. This the kinda stuff I tell only to my diary 😅 I can’t get over this boy ❤︎ ugh. Read more smut
Purple Italicized : readers inner thoughts
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷♡ ♡ ♡
It’s your second day on the job working for a partner company. You go to a big company event and then were invited to their after party. You arrive with your boss and walk up to a crowd. Iñaki is there. They are spinning bottles in groups of people. Your boss asks you to go grab her a drink and find her at a table.
You manage to grab her drink from the bar and see her done-up ponytail sitting not far. As you arrive back and scooch between your boss and the person sitting next to her a spinning bottle lands directly on you. 
You look to your boss. “Wha— are we playing?” “Go, go on,” your boss says as she snatches her drink and starts sucking it down. “Wha? Me? With who?” Iñaki stands up slowly and curiously. You turn red immediately and the whole room sees. “Aha, look at her!” Somebody points and taunts out. “Stop it.” Iñaki nudges them. 
He walks over to you, “C’mere” and grabs your hand introducing himself with his upbeat attitude. You know his name obviously, but go along and introduce yourself to him. He guides you to the coat closet. It’s a little walk away. You feel like you’re dissociating or imagining this. This seems so unreal. Thoughts race and doubts creep in. Surely he’ll just want to talk in there? He has no idea who I am. What if he doesn’t even find me attractive? 
The place is wooden and warm, the closet is small and crammed. You two stand in facing each other. Someone shuts the door. It’s dark in there except a few cracks under the door lighting enough to illuminate his dark eyes. They bang on the door, ☁️“7 minutes… starting…now!”☁️ Your pupils widen!
Goosebumps spread over your body. “Hey no pressure, let’s just see where things take us.” Iñaki says smoothly. You catch eye contact and both blush sharing an awkward moment. You’re hearing a few ambient noises from the tables of people outside. He lifts his arm and scratches his head, “Umm—” You both go to speak at the same time cutting each other’s words off. “No, no, you go!”
Come on Y/n, be bold! “Ca— can I kiss you?” Your eyes shimmer, full of anticipation and desire. “Yes,” he softly whispers; his eyes widen slightly in surprise as you immediately take the initiative, kissing his plushy lips in the darkness of the closet. 
Lightly, you trail up to his neck and grip squeezing the sides, making him light headed mixed with a rush of oxytocin. You grab his curly hair and pull. You’re full on making out. He tastes fruity, probably from some candy he ate earlier. Hands all over one another, you two are so close together the crammed closet suddenly feels spacious.
You pull away tugging his lip with your teeth. Your foreheads are touching. He can feel the lingering warmth of your breath against his lips still. He's panting like a puppy and you’re in heat, a delightful burning through your whole body. Fuck, ’m turned on. But you're chill, you play it cool.
You reach down his pants. He grabs your hand. “I— shouldn’t, uhh,” he whispers. His words are a plea, a desperate attempt to regain his composure but he didn’t tell you to stop. The conflict within him intensifies, torn between succumbing to the pleasure or maintaining control. So aroused and antsy, he caves.
Forgetting his worries he lets go of your hand. You kiss him passionately as you slide your hand down his sweatpants. ♥️ You feel him outside his boxers, rock hard, so thick and warm. God, he’s so turned on which makes your cunt drip. You grasp onto his dick making him huff out and lean into your shoulder for stability. His body tenses as you continue to push his blurry boundaries. 
"Y— you certainly know how... to test the limits…” he moans and blushes. The struggle is evident in his eyes. Your response is to continue kissing and nibbling his neck and cheeks feverishly.
His hands start to skim under your blouse. Searching and exploring your waist up to your tits. He grabs and starts squeezing— it makes him close his eyes and moan out. “Awwh,” Nuzzling into your neck shyly enjoying how your breasts feel in his scooped hands; how your nipples harden as he brushes over them. He’s fuming in pleasure! This closets’ on fucking fire. He’s so sexy giving himself to me like this.
He lets out an “Ooh!” as you shift to directly inside his underwear and grab his hard leaking cock. You pull down his pants just enough for it to spring out causing him to mewl vulnerably in your ear. The laughter and chatter of the people outside cover up his moans. You feel a hint of worry wondering how much time has passed?
Your hand is smothering and tugging his cock. Precum seeps out his swollen head, making it soooo slippery, it’s just as wet as between your tongues. You two are lip locked as you jerk him off. It feels sensational. Your edging sends waves of frustration and eagerness coursing through him making his eyes water. His pleasure reaching new heights. His grip on your shoulders tightening involuntarily.
He’s drooling and moaning into your mouth in the most intimate way. His breaths become quicker in between you kissing. He moans louder, desperately in enjoyment, “Aww Y/N awwh” Your other hand quickly grabbing the coat behind you to cover your shirt, “Yes baby, cum f’me Iñaki.”
When he cums he instinctually pushes his pelvis forward, you see his hot body squirm, releasing his orgasm. He cums and there’s a lot! It’s so creamy, warm and slippery. He then buries his curly haired head into your shoulder and starts groaning and kissing you needly. 
You keep tugging focusing on the tip, you’re high off his orgasm. His body shaking “whoa, awwh” and moaning in shock at how you’re making him feel. He looks up at you making eye contact completely bashful and vulnerable. He’s such a sweet baby boy, it’s so hott seeing him like this.
You feel kinda bad for using whomever’s jacket that was as a cum towel, sigh, woops. Your intimate moment is interrupted when you hear footsteps! Your hearts racing as you quickly get dressed and fix yourselves! Then someone swings the door open only to see you two posing nonchalant. But you’re still unable to cover that wide sly smile crossing your face in devious delight.
He pops out the closet and you follow. “I’ll see ya around.” He looks at you and blushes, then waves. The crowd of people giggling quietly while watching you two part, contemplating if you’d done anything in there. You cannot believe what just happened and you plan on telling not a soul. You walk over to your boss who’s already almost hammered and busy jabbering away at some people. She looks at you and laughs handing you her empty glass, “another please.” As you walk across to the bar you have flashbacks of Iñaki—  his body, dick, and lips, take over your minds eye keeping a ditsy smile on your face. Whoa, what a night.  
-angelsinthejungle 🫣💋 xnorwoodx
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 2 years
Text
The Roger to her Jessica.
Hey, Jadey! So heres my Eddie Munson x Female!Reader one shot request for you! Reader is the new girl at Hawkins High & shes super hot, like Victoria's Secret Super Model hot! Naturally all of the popular guys (aka Steve, Billy, & Jason) at Hawkins are trying to get her to go out with them, but she's very much not interested in them.
Because none of them are her Type... Until she sees Eddie 'The Freak' Munson; turns out she into the 'Rockstar' thing...
Also, because Munson looks like a younger Eddie Van Halen, she's instantly zeroing in on him. Basically Reader is Jessica Rabbit & Eddie Munson is her Roger Rabbit!
Requested by @m00nlight101
Warnings; slightly suggestive, fluff, the reader is smitten with Eddie and vice versa.
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The guys in Hawkins were all the same. Being the new girl in a small town she was immediately the star attraction.
They took one look at her and suddenly she was the most sought out girl in town.
Even before school started officially she was approached by guys.
Billy Hargrove was the first to ask her on a date but she had heard enough shit about him to immediately shut him down.
He was hot but she wasn't getting involved with him, he had graduated Hawkins High and worked as a lifeguard in the community pool, he was also a hit with her mother's friends, clearly loving the older women and according to his sister Max a violent bully.
She was definitely steering clear of that one.
Steve Harrington was the next one to approach her and try to get a date. Now he was very handsome but still not her type.
Plus she was sure he was still making eyes at the girl Nancy Wheeler so she didn't want to get involved in that.
They met at Family Video when she was picking some movies for her Saturday movie night, Nancy was there too and while he was making eyes at y/n he was also pining after Nancy.
So he was a pass too.
Then finally when school started Jason Carver set his sights on her before she even sat down for her first class.
The guy was arrogant, cocky and a douche, he loved himself a little too much and those cringy inspirational speeches he did made her want to vomit.
The kicker though was that he already had a girlfriend. What a sleazeball. She wasn't stealing some girl's man.
"You know I'm the most popular guy in school right?". He leans into her and she raises an eyebrow moving away from him invading her personal space.
"Yeah, that's cool and all but I really don't give a shit about popularity. Also, you're not my type and I know you have a girlfriend so you hitting on me is gross".
He looked furious but she ignores him and carries on with her work wondering if she would meet anyone who was her type.
Jason pipes up again.
"You seriously expect me to believe you care I have a girlfriend?". Anger burns in her gut. She's fed up with men assuming things about her because she looks a certain way.
"Yes, I do very much care. Congratulations you're officially the worst guy I've met here".
Jason looks affronted and she turns away from him still pissed.
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At lunch, she walks into the cafeteria and Chrissy and a few other cheerleaders call her over to sit.
She scans the crowd at lunch and her heart flutters as she spots the most gorgeous guy she's ever seen.
The curly brown hair, the leather jacket and the denim vest combo? She's smitten. He looks like Eddie Van Halen. There are major similarities.
Now this guy? This guy was her type.
What's Hellfire about she wonders as she stares at his t-shirt. The other boys sitting with him are wearing it too.
Stacy one of the cheerleaders she's sitting with snorts as she follows her gaze.
"That's the freak's table, they play this game called Dungeons and dragons or some shit. Eddie Munson the leader, the one sitting at the head of the table is the biggest freak of all, stay well clear".
Bitch. She thinks in her head and turns back to him. Noticing the guitar picks and chains too she sighs.
Oh yeah, Eddie Munson, you are fucking hot, ignoring Stacey's laughter she gets up and walks over to him. The group of guys he's with gawk at her as she approaches the table.
"Hi, I'm y/n and you Eddie Munson are exactly the type of man I've been looking for". He quirks an eyebrow and smirks.
"Yeah? Why's that princess? Move". He orders one of the guys next to him and he pulls out the empty seat for her.
"Such a gentleman". She coos and smiles at seeing him up close. His eyes are beautiful, big and a gorgeous shade of brown and those dimples when he smiled? Swoon. Surely he was aware of how hot he was?
"Well, I have all these boys wanting to date me and they are cute yes but not my type, you, however, are the sexiest man I've ever seen darling and I very much want you all to myself". She bats her eyes at him and his widen.
"Jesus H Christ, I'm dreaming right?". He whispers to the others and they gawk at her.
She's distracted by the tattoos on his arm, the visible one peeking out of his Hellfire top and waves of desire crash over her.
Lord help her this man was perfect.
"Are you free tonight handsome?". He shakes his head looking disappointed.
"I have practice with my band tonight but you're welcome to come, princess?".
Perfect.
"I'd love to, she murmurs, you play the guitar I presume?". He nods and she's delighted.
"Will you teach me how to play Eddie? I'd just love to see how talented those fingers are". Lust flickers in his eyes and she just realised how it could be taken and feels flustered.
"I'd love to show you just how talented I am sweetheart". The bell rings and she huffs disappointed and stands up.
She leans down and kisses his cheek, resting her hand on his shoulder. Her Scarlett red lipstick leaves an imprint of her lips on his cheek.
"Until later". She winks at him and is well aware of how his eyes trail down her body as she gets up.
Loving his attention she walks out of the cafeteria slowly making sure he savours every inch of her.
When she looks back at him his eyes are burning with need.
Don't worry darling she thinks and blows him a kiss. I'll drive you wild later...
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delurkr · 1 month
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Anne and James and sibling OCs in 1948
1948 being the year Anne and James married. Penelope is Anne's sister, and everybody else is James's family.
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Cropped sections are further down. There's some connections from @108garys 's Super Massive Family Tree that play into everything (here's their portrait of older Penelope), and I'll leave it to them if they want to refresh everybody on the details. (Edit: 108garys gave lore in the notes). Some of the OCs have more lore than others, but I'm not getting into it here or doing deep dives about personalities and all that, so I just stuck together very non-deep little likes/dislikes/favorite activities lists for everyone. But first some notes on the art:
I went for a balance between dressy and casual, so most of these wouldn't be everyday outfits but none of them are formal either.
Nobody has naturally curly hair. Shirley has a perm, and Anne and Penelope use only curlers. (Unlike the other two, Penelope doesn't curl it every day).
If Anne's dress looks piecemeal that's because it is. Around 1948 was when women's fashion was transitioning from shorter wartime styles (minimum fabric) to longer hemlines, but ofc most women didn't just toss out all their old clothes, so the new things they bought were in the new style, while they also continued wearing what they had and sometimes altered their shorter things in various ways. The white border on Anne's dress is a recent addition, and so is the embroidered pocket because big pockets were also fashionable and it was intended to make the border look more like it belongs.
Shirley uses a brace, a built up shoe, and sometimes a cane due to effects from having polio when she was very young.
Bob has been in the U.S. Army for four or so years and he's currently a corporal. If part of his uniform is inaccurate then oh well because there were some details I just wasn't finding clear answers on (do point it out if you know something that's wrong tho). Also that's his hat he's holding in case it's hard to tell.
Ok now for the other stuff:
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Anne, age 17 -
Likes: Dancing; recycling; Frank Sinatra music (don't spread it around); telephone party lines; the scratchy sound of crossing things off her to-do list.
Dislikes: Noisy children; poetry; men's cologne; bleached blonde hair; house pets; wrinkled clothes; rain on her hairdo; complainers; people with bad posture; anonymous love letters; being late; people who are late; unraked leaves; these peasants (most of the boys at school); being told she's too opinionated.
Favorite activities: Growing plants, mostly flowers; taking the mick out of James ❤
Penelope, age 8 -
Likes: Bicycling; puppies; reading, mostly fairytales; sticky sweets; movie stars.
Dislikes: Mud; talking to strangers; not having had her first kiss yet; never getting the lowdown after Anne's dates.
Favorite activity: Eavesdropping on the phone party line with Anne.
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Shirley, age 24 -
Likes: Card games; chickens; picnics; reading; red on just about anything.
Dislikes: Snow; frogs; Bob; the sound of her own voice.
Favorite activity: Canoe rides to read on the open water. Her preferred victims to accompany her are James (she'll use her oldest-sibling authority for as long as she can) and whoever she happens to be dating (is that a weird date? idk but she calls it a no-go with a guy if he can't handle the quiet time).
Bob (Robert), age 22 -
Likes: Arm candy; being outside; cheating at card games; beer; animals, especially wildlife; pulling practical jokes on April 2.
Dislikes: Peas; serious conversations.
Favorite activities: Hunting; chasing women. (These things are not connected).
James, age 19 -
Likes: Holidays; history; picking dumb arguments; playing hockey when the pond freezes over; reading; PDA with Anne ❤
Dislikes: Waiting; hand-me-down clothes; being called Jimbo; having glasses.
Favorite activity: Finding money on the ground.
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Clarence, age 11 -
Likes: Pocket knives; pirates; model train sets and dollhouses type stuff.
Dislikes: Surprises; hugs; getting up early; "old" people; getting his picture taken (that one's partly a joke, because I accidentally drew him looking a little moody for no reason).
Favorite activity: Fixing appliances and things around the house (under supervision because "fixing" is a bit of an overstatement. He can take things apart but has yet to learn how to properly put them back together).
Kathy (Katherine), age 7 -
Likes: Parties; collecting things; Brothers Grimm-style fairytales; terrible creature horror B movies.
Dislikes: Bugs, especially bees; nightmares from the terrible creature horror B movies.
Favorite activity: Poking dead animals. Trips to the butcher and dead mice found in the attic are her lifeline for now until she starts doing dissections in school. She definitely doesn't store said mice under her bed in jars she stole from the kitchen.
~~
Cool so now that everyone is sufficiently grossed out I'll leave it here for now 😊 Stay tuned I guess because sooner or later I'm going to follow this up with the three youngest when they're older, around 1959 because that was a happening point in time for them. And lastly, 108garys is free to hate anything I wrote because we share the OCs but I consulted them on very little of this lol.
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t-thathandsomedevil · 6 months
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~Her~ || Mattheo R. x fem! Reader
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Author note! <33 I hope you like it, I worked on it at flipping school so Its fluff only. I always accept corrective criticism, spelling correction, grammar correction, and requests. Im sorry this is so bad and cringy btw. -A/N❤
1,492 words 7,983 characters
You listened silently to the conversation the other girls at the lunch table were having, feeling awkward at the prospect you didn’t know any of them. “Oh my god I love him so much” a girl with short brown hair and friendly makeup gushed, pointing to a boy at the table across from the one you were sitting at. You turned your head slightly, enough to be able to see who she was pointing at but not enough to be noticed. The boy she was pointing at had curly black hair, brown eyes and light skin and was grinning and talking to a friend. Mattheo Riddle. — “Let's play truth or dare!” Lorenzo said excitedly “I need a new story to post on buzzfeed.” Theodore rolled his eyes and smirked at Enzo “I should’ve guessed. But okay because I am boooorrrrrddddd af” “Okay” Mattheo said, eying the pretty girl in a hoodie with H/L H/C hair sitting quietly and alone, like she always does. “I wanna play and I wanna go first.” Draco said flatly, slicking back his platinum blonde hair. “I want to play as well, like I have to catch up on all my friend’s drama” Blaise said casually while eating his hamburger. “Truth or Dare is my fav game so yes!” Pansy gushed “Okaayy Theodore Nott. truth of dare” Draco asked “Truth.” “Is it true you…. Are dating Enzo?” “Yea.” “Okay…. Enzo truth or dare?” Theo asked, smirking at his boyfriend. “Dare” “I dare you to kiss me right now” Lorenzo rolled his eyes but smiled and leaned in and gave Theodore a soft but long kiss. “You guys are such a cute couple” Pansy noted, smiling wide “ANYWaayy, my turn because Enzo is kissing Theo.” Blaise said.
“no, I’m still going” Lorenzo huffed, shoving Blaise softly. “Mattheo truth or dare?” “Dare” “I dare you to kiss your crush” “Wtf bro I don’t a crush” “Don’t lie I saw you staring at Y/N” “Oooooooohh” Pansy squealed “Someone has a cruuuushhh” Mattheo blushed and scowled “Fine I do like her buuut she don’t know who tf I am” “Don’t make excuses.” — The lunch bell rang, signaling the end of lunch period and you were the first to get up. You hated the cafeteria. It was loud, food was flying everywhere, but most of all, you had to sit with people you didn’t know and who had friends and you just sat there yourself. You looked over your shoulder at Mattheo. The girl from earlier was there. Her short brown bob bouncing as she spoke. As you watched her talk to Mattheo, you felt a twinge of jealousy. Why do I feel jealous?? — “I’m Joyce,” A girl with short hair that bounced annoyingly. “Yea hi Joyce what do you want?” Mattheo asked, trying not to sound irritated. He absolutely hated when girls talked to him randomly and flirted with him and asked for his number and tried to use pick-up lines that stunk worse than public bathrooms. “I like your…. Eyes” She gushed Ew “Yea yea I like your um shirt” Mattheo said curtly “Is that all? Because I have to get to class” “Oh yea” Joyce said sweetly “I have to go to class too. Why don’t we go together?” Mattheo rolled his eyes “What class do you have?” “I have orchestra!” “Well, I have ELA and the orchestra room is downstairs right down this hall.” Stupid…. Joyce blushed “O-oh okay. See you later, then” She winked and gave Mattheo what she thought was a winning smile. Well f I’m late now… — You carefully wrote your name at the top of your page. At least I’m a good student… even though nobody likes me. You thought, pushing the page to the corner of your desk. “We’ll be working as partners” no…… “You can choose your groups, I’m sure your capable” Oh my god no
Everyone buzzed with excitement and found groups with their friends, leaving only you. The door opened and a boy stumbled in, panting. “I’m sorry I was late sir” he said “A girl named Jane was bugging me.” “Okay, I don’t need your excuses,” The teacher surveyed the room “Go work with Y/N.” You flushed and looked away. I have to work with MATTHEO! “Okaayy” Mattheo said, giving you a ravishing grin. “Hey princess” he said when he planted himself in the seat beside you You scowled “I’m not a princess.” “I’m sure you aren’t. What do we need to do?” “You’d know if you came to class on time and not 20 minutes late.” Mattheo laughed, “A girl named James was bugging me.” “You said Jane” “Well something like that.” You rolled your eyes. “We have to write a book report.” “Nooooooooo” Mattheo whined “I hatteeeee book repoorrtts” “You sound like a child” You said, looking at Mattheo coldly. “Okay finee,” he straightened “What book?” “What did you read?” If anything, Mattheo grinned “I read The Lord of The Rings” You rolled your eyes “What happened?” “Umm… I actually read Wattpad fanfic…” “I figured as much” You said, smiling a little “What happened?” As Mattheo retold the story, you looked over his face. He’s actually kinda pretty…. Wtf!? “You good? You look like you spaced out for a sec,” Mattheo said, smirking “W-what, oh sorry, so um yea what continue” “I already finished,” “Oh okay you can write it down, then.” What is wrong with me?? Mattheo’s hand brushed up against yours as he took the pencil from your hand. You felt your face heat up and you bit your lip. “Do you want to go to the library with me during our free period?” Mattheo asked while writing down the book report horribly. “Why?” You demanded “Because I see you sitting alone during lunch and during your free period.” He looked like he wanted to say more, but he only smiled and set down the pencil “See you later, then?” and stood up to leave. You felt slightly disappointed as you watched him leave, but you shook off the feeling and picked up the book report he left. — “How’d it go?” Enzo asked, smirking at Mattheo. “It went amazing.” Mattheo grinned “I asked her if she wanted to meet me at the library during free period. She looked like she liked the idea.”
“you better make the most romantic scene bro. I want tea and I want a nice movie to watch” Theodore said, tossing Mattheo a cigarette. “And I want something to post on Buzzfeed.” Lorenzo said “and Theo you can’t have cigarettes.” “Ugh” Theodore reluctantly handed Lorenzo his box “You too, Mattheo” — You skipped your 4 period class to get ready. Something you swore never to do. You curled your H/C H/L hair and stuck a small flower behind your ear. You sighed “What happened to me?” You curled your lashes, and applied a light layer of blush. The bell finally rang and you felt excitement rise in your body, but you battled it down and put on a straight face. When you got there, you found Mattheo already sitting on a beanbag chair, he had a black Nirvana t-shirt and black cargo pants. “You look nice,” He said “How did you get that all done?” You had a black tank top with a nice necklace and faded blue jeans. “I skipped my 4th period class. It was gym, anyway.” Mattheo laughed “I pretended to be sick and ‘went to the nurse’” “You are such a bad student!” you said, smiling down at the ground as you sat in the beanbag chair next to Mattheo. “And you are a wonderful student,” he winked, “That’s why I like you.” You blushed “Shut up, Riddle” “Okay Y/L/N” “Can I ask you something?” Mattheo asked “Sure, what is it?” “I- this was a dare, but I really do like you,” “I expected as much. Who gave you the dare?” “Lorenzo Berkshire.” Mattheo blushed and looked down “C-can I kiss you?” “Part of the dare?” You asked, unable to keep the hurt from your voice “No- yes, but the dare was to kiss my crush..” Mattheo said, not looking at you. “Please don’t hate me…” You sighed “I don’t hate you, Mattheo. Why do you think I skipped a class to do my makeup?” Mattheo smiled “So can I kiss you?” “Yes” Mattheo pressed his lips onto yours. He tasted like cigarettes, mint gum, and strawberry shortcake, as odd as that sounds. His hand traveled up your back and his other hand went to the back of your head, tangling in your hair. “I love you so much, Y/N…” He mumbled in between kisses. “I love you too…”
— “Best movie ever actually” Theodore whispered to Lorenzo “This is gonna get so many views,” Lorenzo whispered back, typing furiously on his phone. “I’m gonna tease him for this for eternity” Draco whispered, smirking “Your meeeeean” Pansy whispered, her lips pouting “They’re adorable!”
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thedorfmirrin · 1 year
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My take on a Human Pizzahead!
I've seen some human designs for this boy that i really like. So i tried to use some insperation but also make him unique but also also give him the same SILLAY vibe i imagine the pizza-him has! I love him with curly hair ♡
This man does a little giddy clap when he purposfully knocks something over that domino-effects into an entire mass of destruction right before him.
What a charmer! ❤
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vivi-wtz · 1 year
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The smell of a Munson
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(Not my gif, credits to creator)
The smell of Eddie Munson is often described as a mix of "cheap colognes, smoke/ cigarettes and weed". In this essay I will show why this is in fact either wrong or an understatement of the truth.
Here is the situation, everyone describes the smell of Eddie as a mix of "cheap colognes, cigarettes/smoke and weed". And even tho I believe that he strongly smells like smoke/ cigarettes and weed I do not believe that he smells like cheap colognes (or maybe he does, I'll explain it in a hot second). But I STRONGYL believe that he mainly smells like sweat and u all can't change my mind.
I mean look at our boy. He is a teenager/ young adult metalhead who's only father-like figure is his uncle who seems to work all the time. Because of his drug consum Eddie probably pisses himself all the time while sleeping (the stains on this mattress, change my mind). He is a nerd who gets like no bitches unless they want some free drugs... u all cant really believe that this boy knows what a shower is even less how it works.
And yes I know "his hair looks so soft"... I once knew a boy with curly hair and it always looked soft, too.. but the moment u touched it 🤮🤮🤮 I swear to god it was everything but soft. And I swear this is how i see Eddie. Our little unshowed metalhead rat ❤🧎‍♀️
(Btw that doesn't mean that i don't like curly hair in general I enjoy it but that boys hair was sus hahaha)
And this is like absolutely no hate towards him. I mean I love this little fucker so much, u all aren't knowing shit. And I wanna protect him as much as I can. But this guy is sooo perfect there needs to be a strong con. And yes, I love him but damn does he need a shower.
And this is like an extra headcanon for our boy. Like I said, I believe that Eddie showers like idk never (maybe once a month). But here is where the cheap colognes comes in. So to cover up his sweaty smell, Eddie uses SOOOOOO FUCKING MUCH colognes, u will die when u stand too close to him for too long. Like one bottle a week is minimum (one of the reasons why it needs to be cheap ones).
Change.
My.
Mind.
To sum things up, I strongly believe that Eddie Munson only has two states of smelling. Either sweaty like big foots ass or way too much colognes for his own good. There is nothing in between. But this is obviously just my opinion. Anyways kissies for reading this
Have a marvelous day, bye!
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sapphireginger · 10 months
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Chapter #2:
Stiles runs to his jeep but can’t get the keys in the ignition once he finally does get inside the vehicle. His heart is beating way too fast, and his vision is swimming. Nothing makes sense and he can’t help fearing that maybe the Nogitsune isn’t as dead as they all thought.
Logical thinking is out the window as he starts hyperventilating. Stiles is barely able to get his phone and hit speed dial before he curls onto his side. At that moment, he realizes he might very well pass out here.
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Once Stiles is calm, Spencer sits in the chair next to him. “What does the name Klarysa Gajos mean to you?”
Stiles tilts his head, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Aunt Rysa? Mama talked about her until—” He clears his throat. “—until she didn’t anymore. Why?”
“Klarysa Maria Gajos is my mother, your mother Klaudiya’s twin sister. I think we should talk to her about what’s happened.”
Stiles gives a hesitant nod. “Sure. Uh but maybe not today. You know what? I—Uh—I need to just uh go. Yeah! That's—I need to go. Bye!” And he’s gone before Spencer has a chance to stop him. He pulls out his phone.
[Reid]
You were right. He’s here.
[Mother]
Then he needs to know. Have him go with you tomorrow and bring him to meet me. It’s time we meet. Again.
[Reid]
Will do.
Spencer sighs and pockets his phone. “What a mess,” he mutters. As he stands and stretches his eyes flash slightly. He smirks. It’s time to get to know his other little cousin. There is much to discuss.
✶ 🔎 ❤︎ 🔍 ✶
Stiles runs to his jeep but can’t get the keys in the ignition once he finally does get inside the vehicle. His heart is beating way too fast, and his vision is swimming. Nothing makes sense and he can’t help fearing that maybe the Nogitsune isn’t as dead as they all thought.
Logical thinking is out the window as he starts hyperventilating. Stiles is barely able to get his phone and hit speed dial before he curls onto his side. At that moment, he realizes he might very well pass out here.
The call is picked up pretty quickly, but Stiles can’t speak. So, he whimpers as the tears fall, feeling disgusted at himself for the weakness he’s showing. Stiles isn’t sure how much time has passed when he’s jostled awake by surprisingly gentle hands.
“Oh, sweet boy,” Peter says softly and Stiles sobs. He’s torn between confusion as to his reaction to Peter and just being glad he’s not alone.
He feels the wolf pull him close and he willingly as well as eagerly goes easily. Fingers card through his hair while another hand rubs up and down his back. Slowly but surely Stiles calms down but even as he realizes he could and probably should pull away he just…doesn’t.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Peter asks.
Stiles blinks and finally, reluctantly pulls away. He sniffles and wipes his face before trying to meet the wolf’s gaze. “Not here. I wanna go home.”
Before he can do more than pick the keys up, Peter has taken them and maneuvered him into the passenger seat. The only reason Stiles doesn’t object—at least he tells himself it’s the only reason—is because it’s not Roscoe.
It doesn’t take long to get back to the apartment just like it didn’t take him long to get to class but Peter swings by a drive through to get curly fries and a peanut butter chocolate milkshake. Stiles could kiss him except well it’s Peter. So, he just scarfs down the fries in an effort to stall the conversation he knows is coming, the thoughts plaguing him full of questions.
Thankfully, Peter doesn’t push and simply lets Stiles get changed into sweats and a t-shirt before taking a seat on the couch and pulling the young Stilinski’s legs into his lap. “What happened?” he asks, his gaze averted so the young man doesn’t feel pressured.
Stiles sighs, shivering at the feeling of Peter’s higher than normal body temperature where his hands are rubbing circles on the bare skin of Stiles’s ankles.
“Class was fine but…”
“But what?” the wolf coaxes calmly.
Amber eyes are shielded from Peter’s questioning as Stiles closes his eyes and sighs. “Before I tell you, can you tell me something and be absolutely completely one hundred percent serious about it?”
Peter quirks a brow and then does glance at the mole dotted man. “When am I ever not serious?” he quips but quickly sobers at the way Stiles doesn’t even give an inch. He sighs. “Okay. Yes. I will be serious. Ask away.”
“Are you sure the Nogi—Th—That he’s gone?” Stiles asks, his voice barely audible but full of fear and uncertainty.
“You want to know if you’re still…” Peter trails off gesturing to his own head with a double tap to his temple.
Stiles nods. “Please.”
Blue eyes search Stiles’s face before Peter nods and moves just a bit closer gazing into amber eyes. While Peter doesn’t really need the theatrics to know, he figures Stiles won’t believe him if he doesn’t give him more than a simple: ‘I know he’s gone because I just know.’
“Well?” Stiles asks as Peter leans back again. “Am I me?”
“You are you and you alone.”
The scent of fear dissipates. It’s a most heady feeling for Peter to know that Stiles so readily believes him. They’ve grown closer over research and their shared time in the train station but still experiencing things together only goes so far to building a relationship. Just look at Derek and Stiles.
“Now will you tell me why you needed me to tell you that when I’m pretty sure you already knew the answer?”
Stiles blushes and looks away. “I wasn’t completely sure,” he says, and his heart doesn’t skip. Then again if a person believes it’s the truth strongly enough, their heart won’t skip.
The wolf just nods and gestures to Stiles to get on with it.
“All right. Just it was weird creeperwolf.”
“Really?” Peter replies dryly. “Still with the creeperwolf and yet here I just helped you.”
Stiles grins. “Yeah, but you did follow me all the way here.”
Peter huffs and sniffs haughtily. “Well, you’re the one who didn’t object.”
“Would you have listened if I did?”
“Yes.” His tone is petulant and sounds younger than his current twenty-five years.
A brow quirks up as the amber eyed man smirks. “Really?”
Blue eyes narrow at the mold spotted face that he sort of wants to smack and caress at the same time. “I listened when you said you didn’t want the bite. I could have if you said no to me coming along.”
“Would you have wanted to listen?”
“No.”
Stiles chuckles. “Look how much we’ve grown creeperwolf! Maybe one day you’ll graduate to a different kind of wolf.”
Peter scoffs. “Maybe one day you won’t change the subject.”
A look between them is very telling how much they actually believe that the other will get to such a point.
“Whatever,” Stiles grumbles. “Basically, I met my instructor. His name is Spencer Reid although we’re supposed to call him SSA Reid or Agent Reid. He called me Stuart and I was so confused. Then I explained who I am, and he seemed flustered. So, I just took a seat but then like forty five minutes into class someone walks in. I was busy making notes and didn’t see them until they sat down and even then, I didn’t get a very good look at them.” Stiles takes a deep breath to replenish the air he just let out in one go.
“Then I gave him a pencil and when he talked, I froze but still answered. It was like insane because we sounded the same and when we turned to look at each other we were—we are—completely identical.” Stiles blushes crimson. “I also may or may not have spewed water in his face when I saw him.”
Peter blinks at the rush of words but he’s used to it at this point. He might even admit—only to himself of course—that he finds it endearing. “Well then. It appears you have a twin. Is that what you’re saying?”
Stiles shrugs one shoulder. “I mean I think so?”
“You don’t know?” Peter asks. “Did your parents never meti—”
“Nope,” Stiles says, popping the p. “As far as I know, mom wanted more kids and so did dad but by the time they felt ready to try again, I was already two and she couldn’t get pregnant.” He clears his throat. “So, no. My dad never mentioned a twin. Plus, this guy's last name is different. Maybe it’s a supernatural thing like he’s a doppelganger or something. You know? Maybe he's my Elena or my Stefan?”
Peter doesn’t know what to say to that, but he’s itching to figure this out. He does love to put feelers out where he resides and was going to do so today while Stiles had class, but something told him not to go. Not that he plans on telling Stiles that.
“Tell me what you know, and we’ll figure it out. Okay?” he says, grabbing the tv remote, pretending he doesn’t notice the surprise on Stiles’s face. He just barely fights back the smile that wants to form when he catches Stiles off guard. Peter is invested now. The sooner Stiles realizes that the better, but Peter isn’t going to help him. Nope. It’s up to Stiles to figure out why the wolf with more money than he could ever use, chose to follow a human to DC of all places.
✶ 🔎 ❤︎ 🔍 ✶
Stuart stirs as a feather light kiss is placed on the back of his neck. “Mmm. Allie?” he mumbles.
“Hey handsome. You’re home early. Everything okay?”
“Yes and no.”
Allison runs her nails up and down his back looking down at him where he lies on his stomach on the bed. “Tell me what’s wrong babe.”
Stuart sighs and slowly pushes himself up. He wanders into the bathroom to quickly brush his teeth, realizing he slept longer than he meant to, and he probably has terrible breath. His girlfriend leans against the door and watches him patiently.
When he finishes rinsing, he is tempted to kiss her senselessly, thus avoiding this conversation but he knows she won’t let him avoid it. So, he takes her hand and heads to the living room plopping down on the couch. She settles in his lap and runs her fingers through his hair. Stuart of course melts into it with a content hum.
“Stu?” she says softly. “Tell me.”
“I was late today. I was so late, and I know if it was anyone but Spence, I would’ve been kicked out but well it was Spencer. So, he just gave me a stern look.”
Allison tilts her head, not stopping her ministrations in her boyfriend’s hair. “Well, I'm glad it was Spencer then. That can’t be what has you in this state though.”
Stuart shakes his head. “You’re right. It’s not. See I was late, and I forgot a pencil. This other guy handed me one and I thanked him but when he spoke, I froze. It was like slow motion when we turned to look at each other.” He looks up into his girlfriend’s loving brown eyes. “He’s identical to me, Allie. Like we are the exact same in looks. He’s more of an asshole though.”
She snorts and playfully swats the back of his head. “You just met someone who is most likely your twin and already you’re insulting him. Are you sure you’re not the asshole?” she teases.
“I am most certainly an asshole. It’s part of why I’ll easily believe he is my twin. Although twin assholes don't sound very good. I mean unless you’re into that and well I mean—” She cuts him off gently with a kiss to the top of his head. Grateful for the help, he smiles slightly, his eyes unfocused. “I just don’t understand. It’s like my brain wants to explode and shrink all at once.”
Neither of them speaks for a little while and Stuart is beyond grateful for her. Allison always reads him so well and right now he just wants to close his eyes and escape. And—as she does most times—she lets him escape. It's because of her that he feels safe to do so, knowing that she will be there when he feels with it—when he feels present—again.
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dualityvn · 1 year
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I MADE THEM A FAMILY! ^^❤
Composed by Keith, Tenebris, MC/Brisa and their two children Angelica and Jacinto.
image/drawing of the last three 👇
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hehe a nice family 👪 Angelica and Jacinto have wavy/curly hair but Angelica has blonde like the boys and Jancinto has black as MC. Angelica's eye color is also blue like Keith's and Jacinto's are like Tenebris's (since I noticed these as Violet/purple). MC/Brisa as a loving and cheerful mother 🥰
by the way this is written by google translator, so I hope that the writing is understood 😅
¿How about your beautiful family?
Aww! They look lovely!
And don't worry, I understood!
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ncityavenue · 1 year
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3:00 a.m ❤︎
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Warning: Suggestive
This was suppose to be you and haechan spending time together..perhaps really late but that didn't matter for the both of you but it didn't quite go that way.
You guys were watching TV and eating snacks but haechan couldn't help himself with touching you, you knew he was a touchy person and you didn't mind not one bit but you didn't know you had this much effect on him.
He was pressed up against the head board as you were sitting between his legs, moving your curly hair out the way he plotted kisses down your neck again not paying much attention to it.
He snaked his arm around your waist pinching the curves and/or dips of your body, he traveled his kisses to your jawline and to your cheek. You knew he wanted something but you were trying to play hard to get as you continued to watch your tv show.
"Your skin is so soft, sweetheart." Haechan comments, you look up at him just smiling.
"You could just ask kindly for my attention instead of just marking up my neck just for me to beat my neck with foundation in the morning." You expressed with a timid voice.
"I'm sorry I just get distracted easily." Haechan trailed off continuously smooch your neck and face.
Suddenly, You pushed haechan lower on to his back as you crawled on top of him. He momentarily looked at you then glancing at your lips, you gave him a kiss as you sneaked your hand behind his neck.
He broke the kiss to momentarily speak, "you act as if you don't like the thrill of it." You smirked kissing his lips then his neck.
"I do, I fucking love it." You admitted, This time You moaned into the kiss as haechan traveled his hand to the dip of your back to your ass.
His favorite thing was to just roam his hand over your body to "memorize" it as he stated before, you grind yourself on haechan you felt him getting slightly hard.
You giggled to yourself before haechan looked questionable at you, "we can never have a normal movie night."
"I mean you started it by eye fucking me earlier, I understand you couldn't be forward and say I'm hot bc we were infront of people but I was suffocating." Haechan playfully rolls his eyes. You just slightly raised an eyebrow amused at his statement, you started to rub his dick softly. His breath hitched beginning to be a little shaky, you made out with him and you felt a twitch under your palm.
You liked how easy it was to unravel haechans cocky facade and make him become a whimpery fucked out mess. His lips were already plump and pink.
Haechan felt up on your curves and folds gripping them a little tightly, "Fuck you're so unreal." He murmured.
"And you're such a pretty boy." You replied, you lifted up his shirt rubbing his torso.
"I love you so fucking much." Haechan says weak at the tone.
"I love you too." You grinned as you pulled his cock out.
You know you guys will be sleeping in half the day.
───────❤︎❤︎
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NeyMessi drabble / Crazy About You
Whoa! I wrote a NeyMessi drabble, my first one on them. I dunno what has gotten into me but I hope y'all will enjoy it besties 🥰🥰
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Leo was sitting on the soft carpet of grass, staring at the empty gallery of the Parc de Princes.
The training session had just ended. Most of his teammates had retreated back to the warmth of the dressing room, but Leo loved the feeling of the winter sun on his skin. It felt like a warm blanket shielding him from the harsh winter of Paris.
Someone plopped down heavily next to him, and the next thing he felt was the tickle of rough, curly hair against his cheek.
"Mano, why so serious?"
It was Neymar.
Leo could feel him giggling against his skin.
"Not thinking about leaving us, are you?" Ney rasped. Sounded like he had a mild cold.
Leo slowly exhaled, and turned his head to look at the younger Brazilian. He was not so young anymore, his face fuller, his beard wiry, but the twinkle in his eyes had remained the same over the years!
Right now, those eyes were curiously staring at Leo, trying to read his expression.
"What's your plan?" Leo asked softly.
"Taking a shower, going home, playing poker in the evening..." Ney snuggled closer to him, as if there was any space left between them to fill anyway.
"No, Tonto, about staying in the club", Leo slapped his head lightly.
Ney looked up, his gold and green eyes had a melancholy tinge.
"They'll try to offload me, those hijos de puta" Leo frowned, but Ney seemed to not notice as he rambled on "but my contract is bullet proof so I'm gonna stay as long as..."
Ney abruptly stopped himself and stared ahead thoughtfully.
"What? As long as what?" Leo felt a strange flutter in his heart when Ney's gaze pierced him with a meaningful look.
"You're staying Mano, aren't you?" Ney leaned closer to him and whispered into Leo's ear, raising goosebumps all over his neck!
Leo felt his heart beating, even after all these years he was still dumbfounded by Ney's brazen behavior and shameless touching.
"Si", Leo managed to croak.
"Bueno!" Ney murmured, "Then I'm staying as long as you're there, mi amor."
Leo stopped breathing for a second.
Can this boy stop being so goddamn flirty all the time!
Before he could say anything, Ney licked a little kiss on his neck and quickly pulled back.
He flashed a blinding, brilliant smile at Leo, but there was something more in his eyes than mirth and mischief...
"You coming to Marqui's party tonight?" Ney asked casually, his thumb gently brushing something invisible off Leo's cheek.
Leo was sure he's blushing, but he managed to uttar an "yes" in a small voice, desperately praying for his heart to slow down.
"Fantastico! I'm gonna get you drunk..." Ney rolled his eyes.
"And take advantage of me, pillo?", Leo winked.
Ney smirked, tracing his fingers over Leo's leg.
"You're funny, old man", Ney bit his lower lip, " Bet I can make you *** when you're in your full senses", he whispered filthy.
Leo's jaw dropped! He looked at Ney with wide eyes.
"What's gotten into you, you little devil?" Leo huffed.
Ney abruptly jumped to his feet and brushed off his shorts, his lean, perfectly tanned legs gleaming in the sunlight. He hunched till his eyes were level with Leo.
Smack!
Ney pressed a quick kiss, full on Leo's lips, and rasped...
"You. You've got into me."
Then he sprinted away, leaving a flustered Leo behind.
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Should I write about what happens in Marquinho's party next 😚😚? Lemme know. Love y'all ❤
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truthseeker-blogger · 3 months
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youtube
You barely get to see Matt, but he's the shortest kid, black curly hair, far left, top row, has first seat trumpet, always has 🥰❤🎺🎶
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The kid on the left, Dale Munchy, nicknamed Beethoven. He was incredible. He played a harpsichord at our wedding. He played Pachelbel's Canon.
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Matt's father used to drive Matt to Queens NY for classical lessons, every other week, under the direction of William Vacchiano.
Amazingly, Mr Vacchiano brought the dimensions of Matt's mouth to his own personal metalist, and had a personalized mouth piece made for Matt's trumpet. 😲
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Rhode Island All Star Band, directed by Ted Catherine, who's sadly passed away in January 2023 😪🕯
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Ted Casher's personal encyclopedia of jazz intimates runs from Louis Armstrong to Lester Young, with room in between for Duke Ellington and Bill Clinton. (With photo)
So for Mansfield's own legendary sax man, the new PBS television series tracing the history of jazz from Dixieland to Miles Davis was a walk down memory lane.
“ It gave me a chance to visit with a lot of guys who've moved on to that big bandstand in the sky,” said Casher, who has played or hung out with the likes of Armstrong, Cannonball Adderly and the Duke.
He also jammed with his share of living legends, including Dizzie Gillespie and former President Bill Clinton.
Casher received his first sax from his uncle as a boy, and quickly plunged into a love affair with music and jazz that would fill a lifetime. Almost from the time he first heard Benny Goodman on the radio as a child, he said, he knew it would turn out that way.
“ I remember the first time I sat with the junior high school band and thinking, this is what I want to do with my life,” said Casher, now 63.
For a youngster growing up in rural Maine, it was an unlikely path. His mother wanted him to become a doctor. “ At that time, Jewish boys aspired to become doctors or go into business,” he said. “ It was a tough mold to break out of.”
The first indication that Casher would be unable to withstand the pull of jazz came with the nightly broadcasts of New York's WNEW. Although the station's live jazz programs originated hundreds of miles away, they were received with crystal clarity in Skowhegan.
“ Our baby sitter liked to listen to WNEW, and so did I,” he said. “ It was like heaven.”
By 13, Casher had mastered both clarinet and sax and was playing professionally for $7 a night. He eventually came under the wing of Down East bandleader Al Corey and a succession of other mentors.
“ Today, technology permits a bunch of guys to go into a garage and do their own thing,” he said. “ Back then, I was a willing pupil and I was fortunate to be accepted as a worthy apprentice to some fine musicians. I learned a lot that way.”
Beginning in the late 1950s, Casher mixed gigs with more conventional training at the Boston Conservatory and the Berklee College of Music, accumulating stories along the way.
At the Lenox School in New York, a visiting Miles Davis shrugged off a greeting from an admiring Casher.
“ Don't take it personal,” said a heavy-set man with an engaging smile. “ He treats everybody that way.”
The heavy-set man was Cannonball Adderly.
By 1964, Casher had moved to Mansfield, starting a family and keeping company with an increasingly prestigious list of jazz greats.
Casher shared the spotlight briefly at times with trumpet players Armstrong and Gillespie. Teaching rock composition at Berklee in the 1970s, Casher was sought out by Ellington to talk about the jazz-influenced rock that groups such as Chicago and Blood, Sweat and Tears were then recording.
Casher later taught at Dean College in Franklin and played in a number of revival bands under the names of such legends as Glenn Miller and Jimmy Dorsey. He continues to do session work and play in bands throughout the Northeast, and teaches a jazz ensemble at Rhode Island's Ponagansett High School.
It was in 1979 that the local jazzman had his most unusual encounter with a talented musician and future president. Between sets at a college reunion in Boston, a handsome, well-tailored man walked up to Casher and started making comments about his sax.
“ You play?” Casher asked the knowledgeable outsider.
“ Used to, but I don't have much time for it anymore,” said the stranger, who explained that he was governor of Arkansas. So impressed was Casher that he offered to let Clinton sit in on tenor sax. He did.
“ He was pretty good, too,” said Casher. “ Played `Take The A Train' and a lot of other stuff. In fact, I wouldn't have been ashamed to bring him to a gig.”
In 1992, the newly elected president, whose sax-playing attracted attention during the campaign, thanked Casher by inviting him to perform at his inauguration. He did so as a band member of Bo Winiker's outfit.
Casher says he's impressed with the picture painted by the TV series of jazz as a creative force and a vital underpinning of American culture. He says he believes the reason jazz has been such a potent social force is the same reason it proved to be so influential in his own life.
“ Jazz combines both intellect and emotion, and it requires your creative input,” Casher said. “ Classical musicians take a score and interpret whatever it is the composer intended. I play jazz, and I'm composing as soon as I get the sax in front of my face.”
“ That's what I love about jazz.”
RICK FOSTER can be reached at 508-236-0372 or via e-mail at [email protected]
Considered one of the most respected musicians in New England, Casher shared the stage with everyone from Frank Sinatra and Aretha Franklin, to Louis Armstrong and former President Bill Clinton, over his long and successful jazz career.
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 2 years
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Mysterious and Spooky 🖤🕷
can I request something like reader is a new student at Hawkins and they have a personality like Morticia Addams & Eddie falls in love with them immediately?
Requested by anon. 🖤 I hope you enjoy.
Some quotes are by Morticia and I've written them in a different font so you know what ones they are ❤
Likes, comments and reblogs are much appreciated! ❤🙂 I do not give anyone permission to copy my work.
🎃
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Talk at Hawkins High School was rife about the new girl y/n. Half the students were fascinated by her and the other half were terrified.
Spooky, kooky and a little mysterious she joined Hawkins in October and set the gossip train alight.
The aura she held was one of confidence, she had a quick wit and entranced those who she met.
Fred had told a sceptical Nancy he was sure she was a witch. Nancy proceeded to call him an idiot.
Jason was torn between thinking she was hot and being seriously spooked out by her while Chrissy was an absolute sweetheart and befriended her straight away.
She walked right into the cafeteria on her first day composed and ignoring the talk that was amped up as she walked over to join Chrissy who had kindly invited her to sit at her table.
Talk ranged from her black knee-high boots, lacy black dress and spider earrings to what lipstick made her lips look that red to other ruder whispers.
"Why do you wear all black. Don't you own any other colours?". Stacy one of the cheerleaders whispered to her and Chrissy told her off for being so rude.
"Black is such a happy colour don't you think? Delightful even". Stacy blinks stunned and she smirks amused.
Well, she did ask.
"I prefer yellow, it's the colour of sunshine". Stacy retorted stifly and y/n looks at her aghast.
"Oh, how frightfully dull. You poor thing". Stacy stares at her stunned and y/n has enough of her gawking and turns away engaging Chrissy in conversation instead.
She was very unaware of the curly brown-haired boy who was gaping at her. If hearts could come out of his eyes they would.
As soon as Eddie spotted her for the very first time he fell in love. He had never seen someone so beautiful in his life.
For the first time in a long time. He was rendered silent and practically floated over to the table she was at, dropping on his knee and gazing at her.
"Jesus H Christ, you're what I've been looking for all my life". She grins.
"So dramatic darling. I love it. My name is yn. What's yours?". She gave him her preferred hand and he kissed it gently.
"Eddie, Eddie Munson and sweetheart you are the queen in my dreams".
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Y/n loved to listen to the rumours about herself, she particularly liked the one about her being a witch (She wishes) and that she liked to put a spell on unsuspecting suitors.
Ridiculous of course but the things people liked to believe were outlandish at times.
It could sometimes get annoying though, so she dressed all in black and liked to wear scarlet red lipstick, ruby red nail polish and loved all things spooky and macabre.
What was the big deal? Was she really the most exciting thing in this small town that was meant to be strange itself?
Of course, she knew about the rumours here, missing kid disappears for a week then comes back, spooky woods, possessions, a girl with superpowers that involved psychic abilities specifically telekinesis, monsters and secret experiments.
Just because half the town liked to keep their head in the sand others didn't. Her mother who loved all things supernatural and otherworldly just like she did had gotten all the gossip from her father who joined the police team.
One person whose attention she did love though was Eddie Munson. The minute they met it was like it was fated. Of that, she was sure of.
Speaking of which she spotted Eddie who was surrounded by his sheeples as he liked to call them - the freshman boys Dustin, Mike and Lucas.
"Hi, beautiful". He drops to his knees takes her hand and kisses it, trailing feather light kisses up her arm then pulling her in for a long passionate kiss.
The minute she met Eddie when he wandered over to where she sat with Chrissy on her first day she fell for him.
They had been joined at the hip ever since.
"How's my princess?".
"Oh, my love, this morning I looked out and it was so stormy, the lightning and thunder. The rain? All gloomy and wild, It is rather romantic don't you think? I love it"
He smiles indulgently and kisses her forehead. Others watched them as they passed but the two of them paid the people no mind.
Y/n cups his cheek as he watched her with reverence.
"I love you, my princess". He murmurs into her ear and she grins.
“You are dearer to me than all the bats in all the caves in the world. I love you to my love”
The three boys stared at each other used to how Eddie and y/n acted but sometimes they were caught off guard.
The two of them really were perfect for each other, soulmates if you will.
In this life and in eternal life too
🖤🎃🍁
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