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#( . do or do not   there is no t RY
fence-time · 11 months
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I thought you'd enjoy this thought but like
The temptation to make sl!Skizz a galah cus bright pink (and also we just really like cockatoos)
I just think that Skizz should get to be a flamboyant pink bird that isn't a flamingo /lh
- May
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Do you think he’s trying to get people to join love island by doing a mating dance……?
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slytherinshua · 9 months
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SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9 SF9
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theood · 5 months
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Hoping my mind reminds me to do some more research or read accounts from folks with it about the thing I've been feeling recently
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bare1ythere · 7 months
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help trying to prepare visas and other practical stuff for an exchange term with the deadline so close is the most stressful thing I've done in a long time
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chevvy-yates · 7 months
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unfortunately for the first time ever my latest save file didn't want to load. I only created it yesterday. Told me to look into the log files.
They did not tell me much (as I'm a noob when it comes looking into mod files) I assume I added one (or more) mods that rely on the current update + updated core mods. Somehow I was able to play it until I saved the game last night and now it won't load it for some reason.
Was able to load the oldest newest file I got of Jay. This one works fine (even with still the new mods inside the folder). Also saved it as new (back up) test file to see if the game loads it after making a new save. check.
So I assume either my other file is borked as fuck or maybe it will work again once I've updated game + core mods as I'll never find out which of the newest clothing/car/framework mods could be it. lol
And if it stays borked? I guess I'll have to add all the new shit to JayJay again xD
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stilestilinski · 4 months
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sorry but buckt*mmy is so boring and underdeveloped, and their chemistry is literally almost non-existent except for that first kiss scene. i was excited for them at first, and yet they left me feeling so disappointed. they had 6 episodes to make them interesting and have some depth and all they did was make them kiss twice and cringey daddy kink jokes on their short and uninspiring date. i've never been more disappointed in this show than in the way they handled buck's bi "arc".
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crybaby-bkg · 2 years
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it’s this guy I’ve been talking to on and off with for like five years atp, and we can never talk long because we argue and get into it so much and like….I’m not a very combative or argumentative person but he tries to bring that out of me entirely too often???? like every time I post something he disagrees with, he’s always saying “oh you shouldn’t post that, this is wrong, they shouldn’t say that” and NOW he’s saying Megan is lying and bitch…….I’m so annoyed like. leave me alone bro this is why we can never get along for too much time bc it’s always some bullshit and I’m over it
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inthecarpets · 1 year
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How do i block out a 'people hate this character and love this other character' discourse posts from the tags if its never tagged
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bmpmp3 · 12 days
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I NEEEEED TO MAKE A SHITTY UTAU VOICEBANK. grabs you by the throat. and you must too
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abyssalstardust · 2 months
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Reputable source
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peachesofteal · 3 months
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Through Me (The Flood) - secret baby fic Simon Riley / female reader - warnings: panic attack, PPD
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"Does tomorrow morning work? I'll be heading to base immediately after. Want to make sure I have enough time to say goodbye."
"Yeah, we'll see you then."
Simon goes to bed early that night.
He's good at clearing his mind and willing himself to sleep, hovering just barely there on the surface, never dipping too deep, and has done it for years. It enables his ability to rest in even some of the most uncomfortable circumstances (and that includes Johnny's snoring). It's compartmentalizing at it's finest, something he's tried to impress upon the sergeants too, over time.
Learn how to do this. It may save your life.
The pendulum swing keeps him somewhat aware, connected to a very small piece still tethered to the conscious world.
It's how he hears his phone ring at twenty hundred.
The caller ID flashes your name and he picks up immediately, sitting straight up. "Hey-"
"Hi, um..." You're crying. He flips himself out of bed, already partially dress, and manages to locate his shoes in a millisecond.
"What's wrong?"
"Can you... can you c-come- take the baby for a little while?" Your exhale whistles through the phone sharply. "P-please. I know you- you're leaving tomorrow but I-"
"It's alright, I'm on my way. I'll be there in a minute. Are you okay?"
"I- I... don't know wh-what to do." You're hyperventilating, caught in the grip of something, scared and alone. The sidewalk stretches for miles, his lungs burning as the oxygen stays trapped in his chest from the weight of his fear, and the line goes quiet, call ending as he makes it to the lobby of your building and up the stairs.
The copy of your key he never returned gets him inside, and the first thing he notices, or realizes, is Orion's screaming. He calls your name, yells it, beelining for the nursery where the baby lays on his back, hands and feet wriggling wildly in the air, tears coursing down his cheeks as he wails. "Alright, Ry, alright. C'mere, I've got you." You're not in here, not anywhere in sight, and his stomach flips.
You have to be here. He just talked to you.
But you wouldn't know how to signal him if something was really wrong, would you? He didn't prepare you. If something happened, how would you tell him?
He tucks Orion into his arms, cradles him to his chest, and bounces him gently. "Hey, you're okay, you're okay. What's all this crying about, hmm? What is it? Where's your mama?" The crying gentles, barely, and Simon holds him at a distance, quickly, checking him over. He's not overheated, he doesn't seem to be hurt, he's freshly bathed and in a clean onesie. His nappy is new and doesn't need to be changed. "Mama took good care of you, huh? You're all clean, fresh nappy, ready for bed, aren't you bub? Yeah." Simon paces in a circle, trying to settle his cries, before lowering him back into the crib. "You stay right here, little man, alright? Close your eyes. Daddy's gonna find mama and he'll be right back."
You're not in the living room, and he finds your bedroom dark when he opens the door. For a very brief moment, his panic blooms into paralyzation, before he spots the light from your bathroom.
His heart breaks when he opens the door.
You're on the floor, back against the vanity, sobbing with your palms covering your ears. You look like you haven't showered in days, and your light blue t shirt is soaked, slicked to your breasts and belly.
There's no distance between the two of you in this moment, no barriers, no time, no need for space. He kneels, and you look up, tearful eyes telling him all he needs to know. "I'm here, mama. I've got you."
You go into his arms willingly, diaphragm heaving with tiny hiccups and sobs, unable to catch your breath. Your entire body shakes, and wraps himself around you, holding you tight where you've buried your face in his chest. "I- I'm s-sorry." You're hoarse, voice cracked and broken. "He w-won't stop."
"Shhh, don't worry about that right now, just take a deep breath." You shake your head.
"I can't."
"Yes you can." You're frozen, panicked, and he smoothes his hand over your head. "You can do it, honey. Try f'me." The baby is still crying, and with the bathroom door slightly ajar, it bounces off the tile, all around you. Simon grimaces.
He's fine, he's safe. He's in his crib.
Simon shuts the door.
"Breathe with me, alright?" he maneuvers you so that you're in his arms, laying on his chest, face tipped back to his. "Just follow me," he pulls the hand that's gripping onto his forearm like rebar away and places it over his heart, "like this." You try and try to sync your breathing with his, and once you finally get there, evening out slowly, he kisses your hair. "There you go, good girl."
Simon keeps you close, happy to hold you, even if it was in these circumstances. It's so selfish, so wrong, but he can't find it in himself to let you go, waiting long past the point when you've calmed down to finally speak again. "Can you tell me what happened?"
"He... he wouldn't stop crying. For hours and I... I tried everything, but I felt like I couldn't breathe and I felt... dizzy, and when I went to feed him he didn't want me and I was crying too, but I felt so- so mad at the same time, and I didn't know what to do so I j-just put him in his crib and came in here and c-called you. I don't kn-know what I did wrong-" your breathing slips into shallow territory again, and he rubs your back.
"You didn't do anything wrong. He's okay, he's safe. He's even got a fresh nappy on. You made sure you took care of him, which is all you need to do, okay?"
"I feel awful," you whisper, drenched in shame, "he needs to eat, and I just- I abandoned him."
"No, you did the right thing and took a break. There's nothing wrong with taking a break." You sniffle, pulling the sopping shirt away from your body, shivering with discomfort. "Do you want to try again? See if it goes any better?" You give him a frightened look, unsure and nervous. "I'll be right here with you."
"Okay."
"Let's go see your mama." Orion has worked himself into a state, and it tears Simon to pieces, guilt about leaving him in here ripping through his heart.
He feels responsible. He is responsible, at the end of the day. If he had been upfront with you from the beginning, this might have never happened. He would have been here. You would have the support you need.
He was supposed to take care of you, but all he did was make it worse.
He kisses Orion gently. It helps quell the anxiety growing like a plague inside him, worry and fear about leaving you on your own for weeks, or more, chipping away at his resolve. He tells himself you'll be okay, that you did it on your own before he came along, and that you can do it again, but the admission of another dizzy spell doesn't make him feel any better in the long run.
"Don't worry, she's okay now. She loves you so much, you know that? She takes such good care of you, all the time. Even when she doesn't feel good, doesn't she?" He doesn't turn the lights on to your bedroom, and finds you on the bed, sitting up, wet shirt discarded on the floor. He doesn't rush it, doesn't push you, even though the baby cries at the top of his lungs in Simon's arms.
Finally, you hold your hands out. He helps get Orion settled, stroking his cheek over and over until he starts to instinctually seek you out, latching after a few long minutes.
Your eyes slip closed at the silence and you lean to the side, nestling into Simon's chest.
He holds you. You hold his baby.
How it was always meant to be.
He whispers above your ear, working his fingers into the knots of your neck, your shoulders. "You're doing great, mama." You hum but stay quiet, head down, fingers stroking over Ry's cheek, again and again.
"Thank you... for being here. I know things are complicated but it means a lot that you would come. I'm sorry I freaked out, about your job. I just... it's a lot to take in. I don't really know how to feel. I need some time." That's good, he thinks. Better than last week, when you asked him to leave with tears in your eyes. There's hope. He can fix this.
"You can have all the time you want sweetheart, but... I need to ask you a favor." Orion's body full relaxes, little fist clenched in the swell of your breast falling away, and you sigh.
"What is it?"
"When I'm away... I can turn my phone on every now and then, in specific places. D'you think you could send me some pictures? Or maybe I could call, when I'm able?"
"Of course."
He stays most of the night, until the sun comes up. Gets Ry back down, stands watch while you're in shower, helps you get settled in bed. There's a special place in his heart for you when you're soft and sweet and sleepy, a tiny kitten, curling up in the palm of his hand, purring. His moon. His everything.
"You be good for your mama, okay? I expect a good report when I get home. And try not to grow too much, alright little man?" He kisses his head, holding it there, walking around in the kitchen with Ry in his arms. "I love you, Orion. You and your mama. I'll be home real soon."
You turn the corner, something clenched in your hands, what, he can't tell, and you smile sadly. "I uh... I have something for you." He cocks, his head, shifting the baby to one arm, and you hold your fist out. "It's kind of dumb, honestly, but I thought you might... I don't know. I thought you might like it. I made it myself." It's a small fabric square, embroidered with a constellation, Orion's, he recognizes now, and a compass. "It's so you can always find it in the night sky. If you're in the northern hemisphere it should be south west, and if you're in the southern, it's in the north west. I didn't know like, what you could take with you but I figured this is small enough..." You look embarrassed, and all he wants to do is pull you into his arms and kiss you.
But he can't. He can only whisper your name, thick with emotion.
"It's great. I'll use it every night. Thank you." You blink, eyes wet, and then nod. He glances at his watch.
"Time to go?"
"Yeah," he hands you the baby, and picks up his duffle, the weight foreign now but still familiar. "Take care of yourself, alright?"
"I will."
"Promise me." He's stern, pushing a little bit of lieutenant into it, and you agree again, quickly.
"I will." You follow him to the door, holding Orion up for him to kiss one last time, and then he presses his mouth to your forehead, pleased when you don't pull away. He's dragging it out, the reluctance too ripe, and finally hangs his head in defeat after the too short minutes tick away.
"I'll see you soon." He gives you one last look, memorizing your face, Orion's, as much as he can, before heading down the hall.
"Simon," you call, turning him on a dime, "be careful, okay? Make sure... make sure you come home." Home.
"I will. I promise."
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latin5mamii · 3 months
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Stadium Sweetheart- Jude Bellingham
Genre: fluff, comforting
Author's note: short and sweet🎀
Summary:Can your boyfriend help you choose your stadium's outfit?Of course he can.
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"Please recommend me something to wear”
“I don’t know what girls wear at a stadium, darling”
Oh and that was it, his english accent that could literally melt you in any second.But seriously, you literally wore every ‘sportive- girl outfit you have in your closet and you were stressing yourself,t rying to find something decent to wear.
“I might have an idea” you say, a sudden spark of inspiration lighting up your face. You dash over to Jude's side of the closet and pull out one of his jerseys, the one with "BELLINGHAM" and his number emblazoned on the back. Holding it up, you grin.
He raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing on his lips. "Going for the full supporter look, are we?"
"Well, I want to be your number one fan, don't I?" You slip the jersey over your head, feeling a rush of excitement. It's a bit oversized, but that only adds to the charm. You pair it with your favorite mini skirt and a pair of white heels.
“Heels to a stadium, you serious?” he says giggling.Maybe that was a bad idea,but girls would do anything to keep the outfit on top.
“Shut up” 
“Yes sir”He says ironically, you can’t help but laugh at his words.
As you make your way to the stadium, the atmosphere is electric. Fans are pouring in, waving flags and singing chants. You feel a sense of pride wearing Jude's name on your back, knowing that you're part of something bigger.
At the stadium, you take your seat among the sea of supporters. The game begins, and you watch Jude on the field, playing with the skill and passion that made you fall for him in the first place. Every time he makes a great play, you jump to your feet, cheering and shouting his name.
When the game is over and your boyfriend’s team wins,you start searching for him on the field and so does he.As soon as he sees you, he blows a kiss towards your direction.
You can’t be more excited for him than you are now.You know how he loves football and achieving his dreams makes only you more proud than you already are.
you get off your seat and walk towards him, hugging him tightly as he gives you a kiss on the forehead.
“I kinda feel like you brought me luck, didn’t you?”
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mopopshop · 2 months
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you should do another part of the story with the kid from earlier where she calls Paige mom for the first time and Paige can’t do anything but cry and hug her
Mother’s Day (Paige Bueckers x OC)
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———
It’s Mother’s Day, and you’ve planned a cozy day at home with Rya and Paige. The scent of pancakes fills the kitchen as you cook breakfast, while Rya is at the table, busily working on a secret project.
“Mommy, don’t look!” Rya says, giggling as she glances up at you with a mischievous grin.
“I won’t, I won’t,” you promise, turning your attention back to the pancakes. 
Paige is sitting at the table, sipping her coffee and watching Rya with a curious smile. “What you working on, Ry?”
“It’s a surprise!” Rya announces, her small hands clutching crayons and paper.
You exchange a glance with Paige, both of you wondering what Rya has planned. The morning passes in a flurry of laughter and pancakes, and soon it’s time for Rya to reveal her surprise.
“Okay, close your eyes!” Rya instructs. You both comply, covering your eyes with your hands.
“Open them!” Rya’s voice is filled with excitement.
You uncover your eyes and see Rya holding up a drawing. It’s a colorful picture of the three of you, with “Happy Mother’s Day” written in Rya’s careful handwriting. But what catches your eye is the label she’s added beneath each figure: “Mommy” under you and “Mom” under Paige.
“Rya, this is beautiful,” you say, your heart swelling with love and pride.
Paige is staring at the drawing in silence, her eyes wide and filling with tears. “Mine says ‘Mom’ instead of Paige”
Rya nods, her expression serious. “Yeah. You take care of me and love me just like Mommy does. So, you’re my Mom too.”
Paige’s breath catches, and she can’t hold back her tears. She pulls Rya into a gentle hug, her voice choked with emotion. “Thank you, Ry. That’s the best Mother’s Day gift I could ever ask for.”
Rya wraps her arms around Paige’s neck, hugging her tightly. Her tears are falling freely now and she looks over Rya’s shoulder at you, her eyes shining with gratitude and joy.
You smile at Paige, feeling tears prick at your own eyes.
Paige reaches out to you, and the three of you share a warm, heartfelt embrace.
That night, as you tuck Rya into bed, she looks up at you with sleepy eyes. “Was today a good Mother’s Day, Mommy?”
“It was perfect, baby,” you say, kissing her forehead. “Thank you for making it so special.”
Rya smiles, her eyes closing as she drifts off to sleep. You quietly leave her room and find Paige in the living room, tearing up as she looks at the drawing one more time.
“I know I’m being a baby about this but— shit,” Paige drags her t-shirt over her face to cover the scene of her crying.
You gently pull the t-shirt away from her face and hold her hand. "You're not being a baby, P. It’s a big deal."
Paige nods, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I just... I never expected her to call me Mom."
"You've been there for her, Paige. You love her and take care of her every day. She sees that," you say softly, squeezing her hand. "She loves you."
Paige looks at you, her eyes filled with gratitude. "I love her so much. And I love you."
You pull her into a kiss and after, she glances at the drawing, her expression softening. "I’m gonna frame this and put it in the living room."
"Good idea," you agree. "It deserves a special place."
You spend the rest of the evening cuddled up on the couch, the drawing propped up on the coffee table in front of you. This is a Mothers Day you’ll remember forever. 
———
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samandcolbyownme · 6 months
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Summary: not a request - “Reader finds out they’re pregnant and freaks out.”
Warnings: pregnancy talk, pregnant!reader, crying, fluff
Enjoy!
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You stood in the bathroom, hands on the counter as you stare at the second and really dark pink line that appeared almost instantly.
You could feel your stomach turning, which has been happening the last week - to which you now know the answer to. 
“Fuck.” You rest a hand on your forehead, “Okay.” You breathe out, “Fuck fuck fuck.” Your voice turns into a whispered squeal, which is full of panic. 
Johnnie suddenly breaks you from your panicked state by coming through the front door yelling, “Babe! Babe! Come out here. If you’re sleeping wake up!” 
You wipe your face, “Oh, fuck.” You sniffle, trying to pull yourself together as quick as you can, “Goddamn it, Johnnie.” 
You also have an answer as to why you’ve been so grumpy lately. 
You scatter to cram the paper evidence from the pregnancy test box and throw it in the trash bin.
You bend down with a groan and pull it out, trying to cover it up as best you could. 
You were scared. 
You could feel your heart racing quick and you felt like you were going to throw up. You felt very overwhelmed and you eventually end snapping on Johnnie.
Johnnie knocks on the door, “Hey, babe. You in there? I gotta tell ya something.” You press your lips together, desperately hoping your voice sounds normal, “I’ll be right out, baby.” 
“Come on.” He whines, “I’m so excited to tell you!” 
Johnnie’s persistent-ness is pushing you closer to that breaking point. You close your eyes and take a slow deep breath before you stand up, walking over to the door. 
You pull it towards you, keeping it closed slightly and your body blocking the counter, “Johnnie. I said give me a second.” 
He stops and stares at you, “Um. Okay?” He says plainly, “I don’t understand what that was all about.” 
You sigh, “I just.. I need a second, okay?” 
“What’s going on?” Johnnie asks, now finally noticing your puffy eyes from crying, “Why are you crying?” He steps closer and your hand on the door knob tightens, “I’ll tell you then..” 
“No, tell me now.. if you’re.. in trouble, I would like to know.” He reaches up to touch your face but the thought of him not wanting anything to do with you once he knows makes you wince. 
Johnnie notices your wince and he shakes his head, stepping closer to the door, “No, seriously. What’s going on.” 
You just burst into tears, completely letting your boiling emotions take over. You step back from the door and cover your face. 
Johnnie moves to you, taking you into his arms and kissing your head, “Hey, hey.” He whispers as you gasp for air, completely breaking down. 
“Y/n.” He says, his voice louder, “y/n.” 
He looks around, making sure nothing was going on. His does a double take once his eyes move over the positive pregnancy test. 
He reaches out, sliding it closer, “When is this from?” 
You sniffle against his chest, “t-today.” You cry out, word vomit coming up and out, “I-im so-o sor-ry, John-nie.” 
He set the test down and cups your cheeks, “Why are you sorry?” He’s starting to panic more the longer you take to say anything, “Babe.”
“I-I know you don’t want kids right now.. a-and an-d I ju-“ you breathe out, sobbing into his chest. 
“Y/n, baby. Sweetheart.” Johnnie grabs your face, “look at me.” You look up at him, sniffling and gasping for air and he sighs, “Calm down. Take a breather.” 
He has you take a deep breath with him and he nods, “Good. Okay. So tell me.” He reaches back, slipping the test off the counter and holds it up, “Is this why you’ve been weirdly sick this last week and a half?” 
You smirk, still a mess from crying, “y-yes.”
“I’m not mad, alright. I mean. I was mad that you wouldn’t let me come in but now I get it.” He kisses your forehead, “A baby wasn’t in the plans, but does anything really ever go to plan?” 
He’s calmed you down enough now and you blow out air, “I was.. genuinely scared you weren’t going to want me anymore.” 
He rolls his eyes, “Please, no one can take you away from me.” He pulls you in, “I can’t wait to see you with a little baby belly.” 
You laugh slightly, “Oh.” You look up at him, “What did you want to tell me?” 
He bats the air, “nothing is as important as this.” He sighs, “we were supposed to go to diner to celebrate a future collab with some people, but I’m not going.”
“Is who I’m thinking of?” You sniffle and Johnnie nods. Your eyes grow wide and you start to tear up again, “Oh Johnnie! I’m so proud of you.” 
You reach up and wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him tight, “Why aren’t you going to dinner though? Seriously, I’ll be fine.” 
“Do you feel like going?” He asks and you shake your head, “I mean, I would like to but I really don’t feel like it.” 
“I’m not leaving you alone, so if you want to stay home I’m staying home and you’re not just going to go because of me.” Johnnie says and you smile, “Only if you really want to. I don’t want you to miss out on anything because of me.” 
He puts his hand over your mouth, “Uh uh uh, we’re done with the conversation now.” He leans back, “I’ll be right back.” 
“Where are you going?” You ask and he looks back at you as he walks out the door, “I’m going to tell Jake and Tara to come over so we can tell them.” 
You smiles and laid a hand on your stomach, mentally smacking yourself for having a huge meltdown over literally nothing. 
Hormones, you think with an eye roll. You make your way out to the living room so you can comfortably wait for Jake and Tara to arrive. 
══════════════════
Thanks for reading! Ilysm! As always, let me know how you liked it! 🖤
Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!
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corroded-hellfire · 11 months
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Sight for Sore Eyes - Eddie Munson x Reader
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An As You Wish Story
Summary: With both of Eddie's sons having respective issues at school, you feel more a part of the family than ever when all of the Munsons want you by their side.
Note: I thought this up in the middle of the night when I couldn't sleep, now here we are. I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: mentions of bullying, mentions of violence, mentions of blood, dad!eddie, older!eddie
Words: 5.2k
[As You Wish masterlist]
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It’s family movie night in the Munson house, but unlike most other quality times with you and the boys, Eddie can’t focus on the film that’s playing on the television. Ryan brought home yet another disappointing progress report. Not only is that unusual for his eldest son, but it’s also frustrating because when Ryan comes home to do his homework, he always understands it. Be it you or Eddie who goes over it with him once he’s finished, both of you can confirm that the kid knows his stuff. So why are his grades suffering?
At first, Eddie was concerned that Ryan was being bullied. He had brought up to you the idea of teaching Ryan how to fight, but you insisted it would be better to talk to Ryan’s teacher and see if she noticed anything. Mrs. Renner told Eddie that she had not seen anything out of the ordinary, but she would keep a special eye on Ryan. After two weeks of observing Ryan and other students throughout the day, she was able to report back to Eddie that everyone seems to like Ryan and he had no problems with anyone those entire two weeks. It was a relief, but Eddie was back to square one. 
Possibilities still running through his mind like crazy, Eddie absent-mindedly rubs his thumb across the small strip of your skin exposed as your t-shirt rides up. 
“My powers are beyond your mortal imagination. For instance, my eyes can see straight through your armor. Oooh! All right, that's it! Dishonor! Dishonor on your whole family! Make a note of this. Dishonor on you, dishonor on your cow, dis…”
The small, red dragon's rant barely registers in Eddie’s mind as his eyes trail over to Ryan, sitting on the other side of you. His son’s face is all scrunched up as he looks towards the television, his small body even leaning as forward as he can in his seat. Eddie’s brows furrow as he watches Ryan for a few moments, and the boy’s facial muscles don’t move at all.
“Uh, bud? Ry? Can you see the TV okay?” Eddie asks. 
“It’s kinda blurry, isn’t it?” Ryan asks, scrunching his face up to squint even more. “Is it ‘cause it’s an old TV?”
You swivel your head towards your boyfriend and the two of you share a knowing look. Eddie’s shoulders sag with relief, a simple solution to an issue that’s nagged at him for weeks may be within reach. 
“It’s not blurry,” Luke blurts out from his place on the floor in front of the couch. His Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle coloring book is flipped open in front of him, half colored and half covered in butter stains from the six-year-old’s fingers that keep digging into the popcorn bowl. “TV’s fine,” Luke follows up, spewing a few kernels out of his full mouth. 
Movie pushed from your mind at this new revelation you may have stumbled upon, you turn yourself on the couch to face Ryan better. Eddie adjusts his arm that was around you to simply wrap his arm around your middle and lets his fingers glide softly over the cotton of your t-shirt. 
“Um, Ryan?” you ask, watching his adorable little face as it pinches up this way and that to watch the animated singing soldiers on the television. “Where do you sit in your class?”
Now Ryan’s face just scrunches up in confusion; to him, this question came out of nowhere. 
“By the bulletin board and the bathroom key hanging on the wall. Right behind Lorraine Poe,” he says.
“Oh, sweetie, no, I meant, like, towards the front, towards the back…” you trail off. 
“Kinda middle I guess,” Ryan answers with a shrug, turning back towards the movie. 
Eddie lets out a gentle sigh and you lean your body back against his. His large, warm hand rubs over your belly for a moment as he watches his son’s profile.
“Can you see the board okay?” Eddie asks. “At school?”
“Sometimes,” Ryan answers, the song in the movie pulling most of his focus. 
“Sometimes?” his dad questions.
“Yeah. Sometimes my teacher writes so small that I can’t always see what it says, though.”
You frown and tilt your head down onto Eddie’s shoulder.
“Have any of the other kids said anything about her writing being too small?” you ask. 
“No.”
“Ry?” Eddie clears his throat. “I think maybe we should take you to an eye doctor.”
This captures the eight-year-old’s attention back from the screen. He pulls his knees up to his chest and wraps his arms around them. It makes your heart ache at how small and vulnerable he looks like this, the fear of going to the doctor evident on his cherubic face. 
“Why?” he asks softly. 
“Well, it sounds like you’re having trouble seeing. The board at school is blurry, the television here is blurry,” Eddie points out. 
“I don’t want to go.” Ryan shakes his head.
“Why not, sweetie?” you ask as you reach forward to move some hair off of his forehead. 
Ryan’s fingers start to fidget where they’re pressed up against his jeans and he begins to gnaw on his lower lip—a few nervous habits he picked up from his father.
“What if there’s something wrong with my eyes?” he asks in a small voice. 
“Ryan, honey.” You lean forward out of Eddie’s grip so you can wrap your arms around the eldest Munson brother. “There is nothing wrong about needing some help to see. Plenty of people do.” You hold him against your chest and rub your hand up and down his arm soothingly.
“I don’t want glasses,” he mumbles. 
Being a kid is hard enough already. Add how soft spoken Ryan is and add new glasses on top of it, and you can understand where he’s coming from. Some jerky kids might say some mean things. But that’s not a reason he shouldn’t get his eyes checked out. 
“Hmm,” you muse. “You know, I can think of a very special little boy who wears glasses. He’s probably the coolest kid there is besides you and Luke.” 
“Who?” Ryan is clearly curious, but still hesitant about where you’re going with this. 
“You don’t know?” you ask him with a smile. “You only read about him every night before you go to bed.”
Ryan gasps in delight, sitting straight up in your arms. 
“Harry Potter!” The excitement on his face has your heart gushing from the inside out.
“The Boy Who Lived!” you cheer. “He’s a super powerful wizard and he needs glasses to see.” 
A shy but genuine smile starts to appear on Ryan’s face and Eddie subtly gives your waist a small squeeze of appreciation. 
“There’s also Superman,” Eddie adds. 
“Clark Kent wears the glasses,” Luke corrects his father, eyes never leaving the TV. You do your best to hold in a giggle; wherever Eddie’s geeky knowledge ends, Luke’s begins. 
“And Clark Kent is Superman,” Eddie says, picking up a piece of popcorn and tossing it at the back of Luke’s head. 
Ryan seems more at ease now, his body posture more relaxed and less rigid as he settles back into the couch cushions. You go to snuggle back into Eddie’s side when Ryan looks up at you with those big brown eyes that are identical to his father’s and slips his small hand into yours. 
“Will you go with me?” he asks, voice soft.
You could almost cry at the question. He wants you to go with him. The love and trust he has in you in this moment of fear and uncertainty means the world to you. Eddie doesn’t miss the emotion on your face at the comfort you bring to his son. He knows he’s so lucky to have you, the woman of his dreams, but the fact that you and the kids wholeheartedly love each other as well? It’s enough to make Eddie tear up any time he thinks about it for too long.
Before you give Ryan an answer, you look at Eddie, wanting to make sure that this is okay with him and that you’re not overstepping. Eddie gives you a nod, his eyes shining with pure adoration.
“Of course I will, Ry.” You press a kiss to the top of his head, and he then lays it down on your shoulder.
“Thank you,” he answers, just loud enough for you to hear.
There’s no reason he has to thank you. This moment, this trust and love he’s giving to you as a parental-type role means the world to you. You’re clearly not the babysitter anymore—you’re their dad’s girlfriend, but a new relationship is blossoming between you and the boys as well. The strong ties that always bonded you and the kids are being bronzed, never to fray or be broken. This is starting to feel in the neighborhood of motherly and it feels more amazing than you could have imagined. 
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Ryan keeps his hand in yours the entire time you sit in the waiting room of the tiny optometrist’s office. The fact that you’re his comfort in this situation has you practically beaming enough to be one of the models on the posters that surround you of people who are overly excited to have a new pair of glasses. Ryan has always loved and felt safe with you, but this is different, and you both know it—even if neither of you know how to put it into words. 
“Ryan Munson?”
His small hand is surprisingly strong as he grips yours like a lifeline at the sound of his name. Before you stand up, you lean in to whisper in his ear.
“I’m going to be right next to you the whole time. I promise.”
The words have Ryan loosening his vice grip just enough that you’re able to feel your fingers again. The two of you are led into a small office that has model after model of the human eye and a large chair directly in the middle of the room.
“You must be Ryan,” the doctor says as he steps into the office and shuts the door behind him. He’s an attractive man with a kind smile, right around Eddie’s age. “I’m Dr. Barnes. It’s very nice to meet you.”
Ryan gives him a nervous smile as he climbs into the large chair. “Nice to meet you too.”
You take a seat in a yellow hard plastic chair near the door and the doctor turns around to introduce himself to you as well. After he shakes your hand, his attention goes back to his patient.
“Tell me a little bit about what’s been going on with your eyes, Ryan,” Dr. Barnes says as he sits down on a rolling stool. 
The boy shifts in the large chair, the nervousness still very prevalent. “Um, well I-I haven’t been able to see the board very good at school. A-And at home the TV is all blurry.”
“Well, we definitely have to fix that!” Dr. Barnes says with a sympathetic sigh. “Gotta be able to do your work at school and then come home and watch cartoons. It’s a good thing your mom brought you in.”
You freeze, half a sputter coming from out of your mouth because you don’t know what to say. It’s a logical assumption on the doctor’s part, but if you let it slip by without correcting him will Ryan think that’s weird? If you correct the doctor will Ryan take that as meaning you don’t want to be called his mother? Or would Ryan feel like you’ve crossed a boundary if you just go on letting Dr. Barnes think that you’re his mom?
“She’s the best,” Ryan says, saving you from speaking at all. The anxiety immediately leaves your body at his words. The way Ryan smiles at you from his chair while the doctor sets things up has your heart soaring. His look practically says, yeah, I said you’re my mom because that’s what I want.
Somehow you manage to keep it together without crying—you’ll do that in front of Eddie later. Dr. Barnes turns out the main lights and puts a focused light on an eye chart just above your head. You watch as he tests Ryan’s vision by looking at different charts and signs full of numbers and letters of all sizes before he lowers the phoropter in front of the eight-year-old’s face. Ryan almost goes cross eyed trying to look at the machine as it gets closer to him, and you can’t help but chuckle.
“Okay, I’m gonna show you two different lenses and you tell me which one is clearer while looking at that chart. Sound good?” Dr. Barnes asks.
“Uh huh,” Ryan says as tries to find the right angle to look into the machine. His voice is much steadier now. 
“One or two?”
“Uh…one.”
Multiple strengths are tried out and it seems like Dr. Barnes asks Ryan to pick between “one and two” about a million times. Even you’re getting fidgety in your seat by the end of it, so you can only imagine how antsy Ryan is. 
It was pretty evident to you that Ryan would end up needing glasses, but the little boy looks less than thrilled when the two of you head back out into the main area so you can find some frames.
After spotting a few pairs that he likes, Ryan starts to find it fun, seeing which ones look better on him and which ones make him look silly. In the end, he settles on two different sets of frames—which Eddie already said he’s cool with because he’d bet good money that one pair would either get lost or broken before the year is out. 
As you’re paying, Dr. Barnes makes sure the copy of Ryan’s prescription is all filled out before he hands it to you. The paperwork comes with a smoldering smile from the optometrist, and as flattering as it may be, it still makes you feel a tad awkward.
“I suppose I’ll see you back here in a few weeks, huh?” Dr. Barnes asks, directing the question at you instead of Ryan.
“Oh,” you say, caught off guard by the flirting. You look down and shake your head, but you see your ringless hand and understand why the man probably thinks you’re a single mom. “His dad,” you start, wrapping your arm around Ryan’s shoulders, “he, um, my boyfriend will probably be the one coming here to pick up the glasses with Ryan.”
“Ah,” Dr. Barnes says with a nod. “I guess I’ll see you soon then, Ryan.”
You look down to see Ryan squeezing his lips together, trying not to laugh as he nods his affirmation. He clearly understands what just happened and his expression makes it difficult for you to keep your laughter held in as well. 
The glasses will be ready in about two weeks and the little Munson doesn’t seem bothered by the fact that he has to wear them anymore. 
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After the eye doctor, you take Ryan out for lunch at Schoop's Hamburgers, just the two of you. Both of you order milkshakes and you hold a finger up to your cold lips.
“Don’t tell Luke or your dad, they’ll be so jealous!”
Ryan just giggles and takes another sip of his strawberry shake while trailing an “X” over his heart with his right index finger. 
“Daddy’s taking me to pick the glasses up?” Ryan asks as you’re throwing away your garbage.
“Maybe,” you admit with a shrug. “Depends on our schedules that week. But I have a feeling your dad will want to be the one to take you.”
“Because the doctor wanted to kiiiiiiss you?” Ryan asks in a mischievous little voice that you’d expect from Luke more than him.
“Yes,” you acquiesce with a chuckle. “But I’m sure he’s just as excited to see what your new glasses look like.” But it’ll definitely be mostly about Doctor McFlirty, you think.  
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When you get home, Eddie’s at the kitchen table, looking over some bills. As soon as you and Ryan walk through the door, Eddie pushes it to the side and stands up.
“Hey, how’d the appointment go?” Eddie looks back and forth from you to Ryan, not sure which one of you will speak first. 
“He did great,” you tell Eddie, throwing a wink Ryan’s way.
“I picked out some glasses and they’ll be ready in two weeks!” he proudly tells his dad. Then his eyes light up and he lets out a small giggle. “And the doctor wanted to steal your girlfriend, Daddy.”
“What?” Eddie’s immediately defensive and looks towards you, eyebrows raised.
You can’t help but giggle right alongside Ryan at Eddie’s expression. “He tried flirting with me, but I told him I was with you.”
“He was bummed,” Ryan adds.
“I’m taking you to pick those glasses up,” Eddie tells his son, jabbing his thumb into his t-shirt clad chest. 
“You were right!” Ryan says with a laugh, looking over at you. 
“Do I know your Dad or what?” you ask as the two of you high five one another. 
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A couple of weeks later, the glasses are finally in. Eddie takes Ryan by the office after he gets off work to go pick them up. 
The smell of roasting garlic fills the air as you make dinner and Luke is watching television when they get home. Ryan bounces in, excited about his new glasses. There’s a proud gleam in his eye as he stands in the middle of the entryway, taking in the view of the apartment clearly for the first time in a while.
“Let me see, let me see!” you say as you step out of the kitchen. “Aw, Ry! They look even better than the display ones you tried on at the store!”
The rectangular black frames complement his dark eyes and honey brown hair. You’re overcome with how handsome of a young man your little Ryan is turning into. 
Luke kneels on the couch cushion and turns around to see his brother. 
“Lemme see.”
Ryan does a one-eighty to show his little brother. All Luke does is give him a thumbs up before he goes back to watching The Fairly Odd Parents.
“It feels kind of funny,” Ryan tells you, rubbing his left eye beneath the glasses. You can already see fingerprint smudges on the lenses and you’re grateful you remembered to buy lens cleaning cloths the last time you went grocery shopping. “What does? What feels funny?” you ask.
“Seeing things that are far away!” he says, both excitement and a slight bit of irritation in his usually calm tone. “Almost makes me a little dizzy.”
“Doctor said that’s normal,” Eddie says, resting his hands on his son’s shoulders. “Your eyes will get used to them real quick, then it won’t feel that way.” He raises an eyebrow and looks at you. “And this doctor also seemed a bit nervous around me.” 
You giggle and bound over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “He’s threatened by what a wonderful, sexy man you are.”
“Gross,” Luke mumbles from the couch.
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Soda almost sprays out of your nose at Eddie’s story about a difficult customer who came into work this morning, when one of his co-workers pops his head into the breakroom.
“Hey, Eddie,” he says, rubbing a hand over his bald head, leaving small streaks of grime behind. “There’s a phone call for you.”
“Oh, okay,” Eddie says. He crumples up the tin foil you brought his sandwich in and tosses it in the large trashcan behind him. Not in a particular hurry, Eddie stands up and stretches his arms over his head. He smirks and presses a quick kiss to your lips when he sees you checking him out. Your gaze continues to look him up and down as he takes the few steps over to the phone on the wall. 
“Hello?” Eddie asks.
The chicken sandwich lying on the table in front of you looked good when you first arrived to have lunch with your boyfriend, but now that you’re full it looks as if it’s taunting you. Crinkling fills the room as you pack it back up in its foil. Just as you’re lifting your can of diet Dr. Pepper to your lips, Eddie’s face clouds with worry and he lets out a frustrated sigh.
“Yeah, uh, I’ll be right there,” he says into the phone. 
“What’s wrong?” you ask, slipping your leftovers into your large black purse. As Eddie hangs the phone back up, you walk over to stand at his side, careful of getting your clothes dirtied by his coveralls.
Instead of answering you, Eddie lets out another sigh and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Gimme a second, baby.”
You watch, confused, as Eddie steps across the hall into his boss’s office. There seems to be a short, quick conversation before your boyfriend comes back out and slips his hand into yours.
“It was the school,” Eddie tells you as he leads you towards the exit and out into the parking lot.
“Are the boys okay?” you ask, feeling your heart rate pick up as you walk briskly towards his truck. 
“Luke’s in the principal’s office,” Eddie tells you with an agitated huff. “He got into a fight.”
“He what?” Your eyes almost pop out of your head. “Is he okay?”
“Just a little banged up, according to the principal,” Eddie says as he opens the passenger side door for you. 
“Poor baby.”
Long strides lead Eddie around his truck, and he situates himself in the driver’s seat. He gives a humorless chuckle as he starts the engine.
“Wayne wasn’t fucking kidding when he said Luke is a little version of me.”
“First of all, we all say that,” you tell him. “Second of all, you fought at school?”
“Oh, baby,” Eddie says with a soft laugh as he pulls out of the parking lot and onto the main road. “Remind me to tell you some stories when we get home.”
When you get to the school, you and Eddie practically jump out of the truck and head towards the building. Once you’re both inside, you feel rough calloused fingers tangle with your own. His eyes are straight ahead but you can tell Eddie’s nerves are on edge as he gives your hand a soft squeeze.
Luke is sitting on the bench outside of the principal’s office, his legs dangling over the edge, swinging back and forth. He’s watching his black and white sneakers disappear beneath the wooden seat before reappearing again, taking no notice of you coming down the hall. Only his profile is visible from the angle you’re approaching from. 
“Luke,” Eddie says as the two of you walk up to him.
The young boy jumps off the bench and turns to face the two of you. You’re startled to see his eye already bruised and purpling, along with a small cut on his bottom lip. There’s the instinct to pull him into your arms and take care of him and tell him it’s all going to be okay. But Luke’s grinning up at the pair of you; a stark contrast to the evidence of the brawl on his face.
“Oh, hi! They told me they called Daddy, but I didn’t know both of you were coming!” The excitement on his face to see both of you is adorable yet seems out of place since he must know he’s going to get in trouble. 
“Luke, what happened?” Eddie asks at the same time that you ask, “Are you okay?”
“M’fine,” Luke answers your question with a shrug. “My hand hurts more than anything.” The boy cradles his right hand against his chest and it’s the first time you see his scraped and bruised knuckles.
“What happened?” Eddie asks again, this time with less patience. 
Luke’s eyebrows furrow, a little “v” creasing his forehead. The pride from the fight vanishes from his eyes as he recalls the situation. 
“Stupid Trevor Brown opened his big fat mouth on the playground!” Luke says sternly, even louder than he usually is. “He said to Brandon Simpson that Ryan’s glasses made him look like a loser.”
“So you hit him?” Eddie asks.
“No, I told him he better shut his damn—uh, dang mouth. Trevor just laughed and said Ryan was a nerd! Then I hit him.”
Eddie sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose as he squeezes his eyes closed. Secretly, he’s proud of his son for sticking up for his brother, but he has to compose himself so he can tell Luke he shouldn’t have done that. The paradox of being a parent.
“Luke, you should have told a teacher instead,” Eddie tells him. “Hitting someone is not the way to shut them up.”
“Well, punching him in the mouth did the trick,” Luke points out. 
You try not to laugh, covering it up with a cough. Eddie’s better at keeping himself composed but you know he would be grinning if he could.
A door squeaks open and the principal steps out of his office with another young boy, a huge bruise blooming on his jaw and dried blood caked under his nose. Luke definitely came out the winner of the fight. 
“You sit here and wait for your mom now, Trevor,” Principal Andrews says, gesturing to the bench Luke was just sitting on. “Ah, Mr. Munson. Thank you for coming.”
“And this is his girlfriend!” Luke announces proudly, coming to stand in front of you. The small boy is wiggling his way out of any trouble with you by seeming so thrilled to have you there and showing you off proudly.
Eddie nods his head at the principal, ignoring Luke, and shakes the man’s hand. You gently pat Luke’s curls, hoping he takes the hint to shut up.
“I’m sorry for the trouble,” Eddie says, and you silently wonder how many times Wayne had to say that to Eddie’s principal growing up. “This one is in for it, I’ll tell you that.” Eddie nods his head towards Luke. “Can someone just let Ryan know Luke won’t be on the bus coming home?”
“Of course,” Principal Andrews says. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Luke. We’ll be better behaved then, won't we?”
Luke turns to head down the hall without answering, but Eddie grabs the back of his t-shirt and pulls him back. He puts his hands on Luke’s shoulders and spins him around until he’s facing the principal again.
“Luke,” Eddie warns him.
“Yes, Principal Andrews,” Luke says in a monotone, eyes on the shiny white linoleum tile below his sneakers. Deciding he’s done with talking, he slips his smaller hand into yours, deciding he’d rather hold your hand than his father’s right now.
“Thanks again, Principal Andrews,” Eddie says before the three of you walk down the hallway towards the exit.
It’s utterly silent until you get into Eddie’s truck. You’re not sure what to say, because this is between father and son. Eventually, you decide you’ll just be a referee if it comes to that. 
Eddie silently pulls the truck out of the parking lot and starts to head home.
“Luke,” Eddie finally says after seven minutes of terse silence. It feels like he’s said his son’s name about a hundred times already today. “I don’t like that you hit someone. But I am proud of you for sticking up for your brother.”
In the rearview mirror, Eddie can see how Luke grins at that, which makes Eddie smile in turn. 
“I wasn’t gonna let those buttheads talk that way about my brother,” Luke says. “I know I’m not s’posed to hit—I do. But if someone says something about a person I love, I just get so mad, and it comes out all violent.”
“Holy shit,” Eddie mumbles under his breath, loud enough for only you to hear. “He is my mini-me.”
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When you get home, you take Luke into the bathroom so you can clean up and bandage his wounds. His knuckles are still sore and stinging when you finish, so he sits on the couch with a bag of frozen corn on them. Eddie plops down next to him as you lean against the wall between the bathroom and living room, wiping off some antibacterial ointment that you accidentally got on your own hands.
“You know I have to punish you, right?” Eddie asks, raising his eyebrows as he looks down at his youngest son. 
“I know,” Luke says with a sigh. 
“I want you to go in your room until dinner time. Try and work on your homework if your hand starts to feel any better. And no dessert after dinner tonight.”
“And then?” Luke asks, looking up at his dad nervously, afraid of how long he’s going to be grounded.
“And then tomorrow you wake up, get ready for school, and keep being a wonderful brother.”
It takes a minute, but a smile slowly spreads to Luke’s face as he realizes there’s no punishment besides the minor consequences he’ll have to endure tonight.
“Now, go on. Get to your room,” Eddie says.
Luke gets up and heads towards the hallway before stopping and turning back to face his father.
“Don’t tell Ryan what happened, okay?” Luke says, wincing at the chill from the vegetable bag against his scrapes. “I don’t want him to know that someone said mean things about him.”
“I won’t tell him,” Eddie assures his son. Luke turns back towards the hallway, but Eddie calls him and he faces his dad again. “You’re a really good brother. Ryan is very lucky to have you, and I know he’d have your back too. I’m very lucky.”
“Aww, Dad,” Luke says, wrinkling up his nose. “So mushy. But… I know I’m lucky too. Always felt that having you and Ryan. Never with Mom though. But now I got someone pretty cool who loves me like I’m her kid and that’s even better.”
Luke continues down to his room and Eddie is filled with the overwhelming feeling of love. Love from the kind words from Luke—which are rare within themselves–the love that his two sons have for one another and that special bond, and love at the fact that Luke recognizes that you love him and Ryan as if they’re your own children. You practically see them that way anyway. 
You walk in from where you’re holding up the wall, emotional yourself over Luke’s words, and take a seat next to your boyfriend on the couch.
“How ya feeling?” you ask, bringing your hand up to play with one of Eddie’s stray curls.
“I’m so fucking proud of my son,” Eddie admits with a hushed laugh. “I know I had to tell him the whole ‘violence isn’t the answer’ spiel, but I would’ve done the exact same thing that he did. When I was a kid or even now.” 
“He’s such a good brother,” you say, an adoring grin on your face as well. 
Eddie wraps his arm around you, and you snuggle into his side.
“So, I believe you had some stories to tell me?” You tilt your head up to smirk at your boyfriend. 
Eddie chuckles and gives a shake of his head. “Oh, you better buckle up, princess. I’ve got some wild tales.”
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mcytblrconfessions · 4 months
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i think the mcyt fandom needs more violence and psycholgoical warfare (war warfare if ned be) so you guys need a feature whre theres a poll unrr each ask like EXECUTE ANON?😈 LET THEM LIVE?😇 (poll options self explanqtpry ) and i dont kno wheere you would go with that actually im sou ry its like 4:30 am es t and im like whqt i imagine being high is like as someone thats neber been high ive been scrolling thruogh this blog dor an hour like ipad baby coco lelln i feel myself goong crazy i need an lutlet ignore this if yuo fuckign want i do still think the i idea has pot etial though
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