#((He doesn't forget his appointments lol

[nectardaddy]

dating higuruma hiromi headcanons (these are completely off the wall random)

HOZIER CODED MAN!!

giving too sweet vibes

loves you like it's a god damn religion to him

he's not very flashy about it though

kind of man to brush the hair out of your face like it's nothing

he never knows when enough is enough when you ask about his day. he'll go total jargon mode and you just stare at him lovingly even though you don't know half of what he's saying

this man can and will fall asleep anywhere

you want to watch a movie and cuddle on the couch? he's out cold in the first 10 minutes.

you couldn't reach him at the office when you know he didn't have any meetings or court appointments? mans is sleeping with his head on his desk straight snoozing.

don't try to have conversations in bed he's knocked tf out

genuinely doesn't mean anything by it, probably feels bad if he falls asleep when you wanted to talk but he's SO tired

would bring it up to you next chance he gets so you know he didn't forget

definitely sets like a 10 minute timer on his phone in between meetings to take a cat nap

you can't tell me this man isn't argumentative

over trivial things too it drives you up a wall

fun police lol

you try to tell him a funny story from your youth like visiting an abandoned building or sm

"yk that's trespassing right?"

"what are you gonna do? call the cops?"

definitely uses that shitty sarcastic tone with you too

"I might? I know a good lawyer."

"looks like I'm going to fucking jail then."

[danieyells]

Tokyo Debunker WickChat Icons

as of posting this no chat with the Mortkranken ghouls has been released, so their icons are not here. If I forget to update when they come out, send me an ask!

Jin's is black, but not the default icon. An icon choice that says "do not percieve me."

Tohma's is the Frostheim crest. Very official, he probably sends out a lot of official Frostheim business group texts.

Kaito's is a doodle astronaut! He has the same astronaut on his phone case! He canonically likes stars, but I wonder if this is a doodle he made himself and put it on his phone case or something?

Luca's is maybe a family crest?

Alan's is the default icon. He doesn't know how to set one up, if I were to take an educated guess. . . .

Leo's is himself, looking cute and innocent. Pretty sure this is an altered version of the 'Leo's is himself, looking cute and innocent. Pretty sure this is an altered version of the 'DATA DELETED' panel from Episode 2 Chapter 2.

Sho's is Bonnie!!! Fun fact, in Episode 2 Chapter 2 you can see that Bonnie has her name spraypainted/on a decal on her side!

Haru's is Peekaboo! Such a mommy blogger choice.

Towa's is some sort of flowers! I don't know flowers well enough to guess what kind though.

Ren's is the "NAW" poster! "NAW" is the in-world version of Jaws that Ren likes, and you can see the same poster over his bed.

Taiga's is a somewhat simplified, greyscale version of the Sinostra crest with a knife stabbing through it and a chain looping behind it. There are also roses growing behind it. Basically says "I Am The Boss Of Sinostra."

Romeo's is likely a brand logo. It looks like it's loosely inspired by the Gucci logo? I don't follow things like this, this honestly could be his family's business logo now that I think about it.

Ritsu's is just himself. Very professional.

Subaru's is hydrangeas I think! Hydrangeas in Japan represent a lot of things apparently, like fidelity, sincerity, remorse, and forgiveness, which all fit Subaru pretty well I think lol. . . .

Haku's is a riverside? I wonder if this is near where his family is from? It looks familiar, but a quick search isn't bringing anything up that would tell me where it is. . .

Zenji's is his professional logo I guess? The kanji used is 善 "Zen" from his first name! It means "good" or "right" or "virtue"!

Edward's appears to be a night sky full of stars. Not sure if the big glowing one is the moon or what. . . .

Rui's is a mixed drink! Assuming this is an actual cocktail of some sort, somebody else can probably figure out what it is. Given the AI generated nature of several images in the game, it's probably not real lol.

Lyca's is his blankie! Do not wash it. Or touch it. It's all he's got.

Yuri's is his signature! Simple and professional, but a little unique.

Jiro's is a winged asklepian/Rod of Asclepius in front of a blue cross? ⚕ Not sure what's at the top of the rod. A fancy syringe plunger maybe? It's very much a symbol of medicine and healing, so his is also very professional. Considering he sends you texts regarding your appointments, it might be the symbol of Mortkranken's medical office?

These are from the NPCs the PC was in the "Concert Buds" group chat! The icons are pretty generic, a cat silhouette staring at a starry sky(SickleMoon), a pink, blue, and yellow gradient swirl(Pickles), a cute panda(Corby), and spider lilies(Mina). Red spider lilies in Japan are a symbol of death--and Mina of course cursed the PC, allegedly cursing them to death in a year.

[eddiernunson]

Really Drives Me Mad | Older!Eddie x Fem!Reader | 18+

Prev Part l Master List |

Word Count: 10k

A SPECIAL HAPPY BIRTHDAY POST. (I’m 28 y’all)

Chapter contains: brief pregnant!reader, babies/kids…this is like a lil collection of blurbs. I have some head canons about each OC I can post if you’d like xoxo

I had ideas about their kids for ages, lol. This crazy lil family is chaotic

Still thank you to @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you and @bebe07011 for without you two this fic wouldn’t nearly be this good

Third trimester is a bitch. I barely have the bandwidth to write lately. I hope you enjoy

Two pink little lines stare back at you as Eddie turns the shower on, completely oblivious to the manic state you’re in.  

He offers you to join him, a temptation you decline with an intense amount of reluctance. You just claim you need your own bed, which was true.  

Eddie missed four weeks of work while you were on your luxe honeymoon, which means he now has several fires to put out. It keeps him busy for the week, making the doctor’s appointments and blood work you do that much easier when he passes right out on his couch at the end of his long days.  

The following week, knowing you're pregnant but not being able to tell him is pure torture. It doesn't help that for some odd reason Eddie seems more lovey, more affectionate. Your first instinct is to chalk it up to your newlywed status, but his affection feels different, the way his arms wrap around you each morning to wake you up, his gentle voice low in your ear. It's driving you up a wall not being able to share your secret with him.  

He seems to consistently have a hard time letting you go to leave for work (not that you’re complaining.) Though eventually you have to practically push him out the door.   

The ultrasound is nearly dull, the implantation in question is only a bundle of cells, but once you get a photo from the tech at the end of the appointment, it’s the very thing you needed to tell Eddie.  

After another early night of falling asleep you empty the face of the fridge, yanking every magnet off as you place the sonogram on the silver surface with a pink heart magnet right at his eye level.

-  

Eddie wakes in the middle of the night, a sudden urge to rise hitting him out of nowhere. His arm tightens around your waist, admiring your pretty face as he kisses your cheek. Your face falters only the littlest bit, twitching your muscles to shake off the tickle of his stubble.   

He finds himself starving, craving something only a feral racoon would also be satisfied with. He rubs his eyes as he walks down the steps. Sometimes he thinks he’s going to see you back in the kitchen chair in the dress and bathing suit, Dylan searching manically for a parking pass as if Eddie has imagined this whole dream scenario. Your love is just too good not to think he’d made it all up at times. He smiles to himself as he turns on the stove light, turning to the fridge for a snack.   

He feels frozen by the blank fridge at first, wondering where all the magnets got to. The black and white image staring him dead in the face suddenly registers, the heart shaped magnet falling to the floor as he rushes to pick it up to make sure his tired eyes aren’t fucking with him. They bulge out of his head when the significance of the photo occurs to him, and the hunger that woke him up seems to vanish.

His long legs take the stairs two and three at a time as he rushes back to you, hurling himself beneath the covers.   

The cold of his arms startles you, a gasp leaving your lips from the shock as you abruptly awoke. “Hmm?”  

“Are you fucking pregnant, sweetheart?” His eyes are unbearably soft, melted pools of milk chocolate staring intently at you.

A burst of sleepy giggles leaves your mouth, turning your body so you don't have to crane your neck. “You got up early.” You comment, weaving your fingers into his curls.   

“Skip the pleasantries, love.” He dismisses, scooping his arms beneath your back. “Are you fucking pregnant?”   

You pull him in for a kiss, your legs wrapping around his hips to pull him down against you. “What’s the sonogram tell you?”    

He chuckles against your lips, his thumbs swaying against your smiling cheeks. “You’re a little shit, you know that?” You nod, absentmindedly playing with his curls. “Fuck, I’m so excited right now, baby.”   

“Really?” You ask him, grinning.   

“I just found out my wife is having my baby. Are you fucking kidding me?” he asks, rutting his hips against yours desperately. “I’m rock hard, sweets.”   

Lucky for you and him, you opted for a pair of tiny panties and a t-shirt to bed, feeling his hardened cock against the thin lace fabric of your panties. Your fingers fumble to his boxers, hurriedly pushing them down his hips. “Then fuck me.”   

Eddie gently pulls the fabric aside, exposing it as his head perfectly brushes against your entrance. “God, my girl is soaked for me, ain’t she?”   

Your thighs tighten around his hips, jaw dropping as he teases you. “Want you, please, Ed.” Your eyes squeeze shut, relishing in the feeling of him pressed against you 

He pushes in, arms wrapping themselves around your torso. “Oh my god you’re having my fucking baby,” Eddie mumbles, face curling into your neck. “Gonna see your stomach all big when you’re carrying my baby, sweets, and you’ll be even hotter than you are now. Which I thought was impossible.”   

No words come to mind, mouth open and gasping at the way he moves in you. The cotton of your shirt is too hot, your hands shakily grabbing at the fabric to take it off. Eddie admires the sight he sees as your piqued nipples fall out of his faded black t-shirt, his eyes glazed over as he stares down at them. A moth drawn to the light, he dives into one, curling his tongue around the nipple with the perfect mix of teeth, pulling little mewls from you.  

“Fuck, we’re gonna be the happiest little family,” he chokes, kissing from your breast up to your neck, his voice filled with emotion.  

“Love you,” you sigh, gasping into his open mouth as his hips hit you harder.  

Eddie smiles, a wicked little grin as his hand curves over the swell of your tummy, thumb petting it gently.  

“Hold on to me, sweetheart. Hold on to your baby daddy,” you grin the line, wonderfully cheesy, but Eddie feels the way you tighten around him. Your arms curl around his back, pulling his body against yours.  

“Eddie, make me cum, please.” 

“Hold on, baby, I’m almost there, hold on,” he stutters, his deep voice starting to falter. His lips bend down to your ear, gasping desperately, bordering on whining. “Fuck– cum with me.”  

His lips wrap around yours, delicately connecting his tongue with yours as his hips stutter a final time, the little moans vibrating against your lips as he fills you up. As you collapse on the bed, sweaty bodies intertwined, he spends the twenty minutes until he falls asleep cooing, whispering in your ear how excited he is.  

You wake up the same way, with rounds two and three before he begrudgingly trudges off to work. 

- 

The sun accounts as a natural alarm clock as Dylan stretches his limbs wide, turning to face his girlfriend. His arm falls over Maya’s form, pulling her in as he starts to wake up. “Morning, Dylan,” she whispers, her pink lips spreading into a smile.  

He pulls her back against his stomach, hiking his legs under hers. “Mornin’.”  

She hums as he kisses the back of her neck, giggling as he takes a deep inhale of her shampoo. “You work today?”  

“No,” Dylan answers, caressing the strip of her exposed skin with his thumb. “I am seeing my dad today.”  

She smirks, turning to face him. “And your stepmom?” Dylan grits his teeth, tickling her stomach until she begs him to stop, hunching over the arm around her. “Okay, I’m sorry!”    

“Mmhm. I’m telling them, did you want to join me?”  

Maya squishes her face, seemingly debating on pros and cons. “I’m gonna pass on that, respectfully.” She can feel the questioning look Dylan gives her. “I have a long shift today, and I am exhausted.”  

“Next time, I’m dragging you with me,” Dylan insists, squeezing with his arms wrapped around her.  

“I’m counting on it.”  

As soon as Dylan opens the door, he listens in, waiting for a sound that never comes. Good, he waited long enough to come. He wanders into the kitchen, meeting his dad drinking orange juice straight from the carton. “Dad?”  

His dad freezes, removing the spout from his mouth, and wipes his face hurriedly. “Hey bud.”  

Dylan raises his eyebrow at him, pointedly glancing to the carton and back to him.  

“Don’t tell my wife.”  

Dylan smirks, rolling his eyes. “Speaking of the devil, where is she?”  

“Upstairs.”  

As if your ears are burning, the two men’s ears pick up the particular sound of someone coming down the stairs. Eddie prays you come downstairs with some clothes on. Your face lights up when you see Dylan, welcoming him into your arms without a second thought. “Dylan!” The familiarity you two share is still new, but wrapping him in a hug is like second nature at this point. “What brings you into this part of the world?”  

You leave the embrace, backing straight into Eddie’s arm. “Actually, I have some news I wanna share with you guys.”  

Eddie’s hand tightens around your arm, he’s mentioned Dylan talking about proposing last month, and this news felt right around the corner. He feigns ignorance, innocently asking, “Oh, what news would that be?”  

Dylan’s cheeks bloom in red, glancing down to his feet sheepishly. You just hoped you wouldn’t have to travel to a destination wedding while largely pregnant. “Uh, we–or, Maya,” he clears his throat, a laugh stuttering through it, “Maya’s pregnant.”  

The first thing you do is glance at your husband, both sporting wide eyes and slacked jaws. To say you’re surprised is a grand understatement.  

“Not the news you were expecting?” Dylan asks, watching the two of you share a silent conversation.  

In sync, the two of you switch back to him, twin smiles on your faces. Dylan had no idea what either of the faces in front of him could possibly mean, and there’s a part of him that wonders if this is happy news for either of you.  

“Um, no, actually,” Eddie barely holds back the sound of laughter in his voice. “That’s, that’s fantastic news, Dyl.” Truly, fantastic news. Eddie has been looking forward to being a biker grandfather since Dylan showed interest in being a father.  

You smirk, leaning into his shoulder. “How far along is she?”  

“Uh, 8 weeks, or so,” Dylan answers, squishing up his face comically.  

“Oh wow, so a week behind me, then,” you say nonchalantly, nodding at Eddie.  

“Wait, what?” Dylan asks, making sure he understood that correctly.  

You giggle, nodding as you sit your head in Eddie’s neck. “Yeah, I’m pregnant too, ironically enough.”  

Eddie leans into your ear, “So you’re gonna be a mom and a grandma in the same year…”  

Your eyes widen. “To think, I was just getting used to the idea of being a mom.” You lean back, meeting your husband’s pretty brown eyes. “Are we sure the kid’s gonna call me grandma?”  

Dylan picks up the conversation right away. “I mean, unless we’re gonna be completely honest with them, it doesn't make sense otherwise. You’re grandpa’s wife, therefore grandma.”  

Am I mom, then, too? You think to yourself, knowing you’ll point it out later. Your stomach rumbles, turning around to the counter to start making a breakfast of sorts. Your eyes hit the open orange juice jug and the lack of cup. “Did you drink straight out of the carton, again, mister?”  

Eddie avoids your eyes, looking at his son. “Hey, I didn’t say anything,” he surrenders, having a seat at the island.  

“How’s Maya been handling the pregnancy so far?” you ask, grabbing a pan from under the cupboards. “Because morning sickness is no joke.” You pause, leaning on the counter. “Not just in the morning, either.”  

“I think it’s some nausea, a bit of acid reflux, but to my knowledge she hasn’t been sick,” Dylan says, taking out his phone to text Maya about the news.  

“Bitch,” you mutter, the tone in your voice clear you’re joking. “We can’t all be so lucky. Eggs?”  

Dylan nods, grinning at the text Maya shoots back. “So dad, you’re gonna have a kid and a grandkid the same age as each other?”  

Eddie shrugs, taking another large sip from the carton. “Since my girl showed up, my life hasn’t been normal, and this just means it will never be normal again.”  

“You’re welcome,” Dylan laughs, rolling his eyes at the exasperated look you shoot at him.  

- 

Dylan’s phone buzzes, glancing at the unknown number as Maya fades in the middle of her sentence. “One minute, babe, I’m expecting a call from the interview I just did last week. Dylan Munson, speaking.”  

“Oh, Dyl-pickle, you sound so big!” Only one person has ever called Dylan that. He gulps, the sound of her voice bringing up old, sore emotions.

“Brooke. W-why are you calling me?”  

“Brooke? C’mon, I’m your mom, sweetheart,” she whines, her voice the sound of nails on a chalkboard.  

“Really, are you?” Dylan asks, getting up from the bed and starting to pace the hallway, his anger already building. “Ok, what college did I go to?” Silence. “What did I major in? What year did I graduate high school? When did I have my first kiss? Who’s my current girlfriend? What’s my best friend’s name? What sort of vehicle do I drive?”  

She doesn’t answer a single question, instead giving stuttered empty answers. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to answer any of that… We haven’t exactly been talking for the last fifteen years.” She says, somewhat accusatory.

Dylan sighs, rubbing his face frustratedly. “What, your phone didn’t work all those years?”  

“As far as I’m concerned, I’m not the only one who had a phone,” she protests, sounding incredibly defensive. 

“Yeah, well, you also weren’t a child for 8 of those years who begged his dad for his mom to come to one thing that was important to him,” Dylan retaliated, angry at her gaslighting. “My dad had your number, always left voicemails inviting you to my soccer games, to award ceremonies, to my birthdays, and you never answered a single call, let alone showed up.”  

“I’m sorry, Dylan, I am, but I was young then, you can’t blame me for wanting a fresh start.” 

“Actually, I can,” Dylan answers, now done with this conversation. “You had eight years to be a mom before I finally gave up on you. You don’t get to pick and choose when to be my mom, now.”    

“I’m sorry that hurt your feelings, Dyl. But I have two boys, and they really want to meet their older brother. Would you come down for lunch one day?”  

He nods, knowing that this sudden need to be a mom again wasn’t going to come for free. “No. I have no interest in being your life. Not since the day I turned 18.”  

“C’mon, Dyl–” 

“No, mom–Brooke. No. Don’t call me again, please. I need to go now.”  

She starts another sentence, but Dylan hangs up on her before he hears it. When he walks into the bedroom he shares with his girlfriend, he crawls into the bed next to her, feeling like the ten year old whose life got torn apart.  

It looks like Brooke still has that uncanny talent for making everything about her.  

- 

Eddie sits in his office, a small room decorated with frames filled with the faces of those he loves and papers strewn around the desk. He’s going over the receipts and payments, and silently regrets not having hired an accountant by now, but he’s far too stubborn to admit it.  

There’s a knock on the door and Eddie looks up in relief. Please, let there be a disgruntled customer to save him from the numbers. “Come on in!”  

Connor, one of the new apprentices he hired only a few months ago comes in, looking timid. The first few months he has a new hire they’re usually shy, and when their self confidence in their ability to do their job kicks in, Eddie truly starts to miss it. “Uh, hey, boss, there’s a client out there who wants to speak to you.”  

Eddie chuckles, leaning back in his chair as he rests his feet on his desk. “Don’t, don’t call me boss. What do they want?” 

Connor screws up his face. “Uh, I forgot to ask.”  

“Always ask, man. Tell them I’ll be right out.”  

“Alright, I’ll tell her.” Eddie sighs in relief, women tend to be more understanding.  

“Hey, send in Joe, will ya?”  

“On it!”  

Joe, a man who’s worked for Eddie for 20 years, older by ten years, walks into the office just a moment later. “What’s up, Ed?”  

“Give the lady a talk, will ya?” Eddie asks, scratching the itch on his right forearm. “Ask her what she wants.” Joe, tall, dark, and quiet, nods and shuts the door.  

He’s back in the office in seconds. The door’s loose knob has barely clicked shut before it’s abruptly opened again. “That fast?”  

Joe shakes his head, his eyes wide with a grimace on his face. “Uh, no, it’s…it’s Brooke.”  

Eddie scrunches his face up. “Brooke, like…Brooke?”  

“Yeah. You want me to–” 

“No it’s okay, I got it,” Eddie insists, a pit forming in the depths of his stomach. He rubs his face tiredly, fully unprepared to deal with this. 

“Dude, you sure?” He asks, having been with Eddie through the divorce.  

“Seriously, I got it. Thanks, man.”  

Eddie gets up from his desk, catching the eyes of his long-time employees on his way to the entrance of the garage. He’s fine. He’ll be fine.  

There she stands, looking around the garage holding her purse with two hands. She’s dressed like one of those Instagram moms, high waisted jeans with a loose blouse tucked in under a long coat. Her eyes land on him, her face lighting up as she exclaims, “Wow, the garage looks great!” 

“Thanks,” Eddie mumbles, sighing. “Is there a particular reason for…”  

Brooke smiles, and Eddie could almost see a genuine human behind the mask. “Um, do you mind if we go into your office?”  

Eddie raises his brows, perplexed. “I really don’t see the necessity for it.”  

“It’s not really a conversation to have in front of the guys, Eds,” Brooke comments, shuffling her feet as she crosses her arms.  

Eddie winces at the nickname she calls him. She really doesn’t know him well enough to call him such anymore. The audacity of it astounds him. “I’m not Eds to you…and my office holds things that are precious to me, that I honestly want to keep out of this conversation.”  

“Like I haven’t already seen pictures of your little wife,” Brooke grimaces, her tone switching from sweet to condescending in a split second, her eyes rolling. “Congrats on that, or whatever.”  

Eddie blinks, too exhausted to argue. “Alright, come on.”  

It's not like Brooke hasn’t been in his office before, Eddie thinks, they were happily married, after all. She looks around at the changes, her eyes seemingly fixated on where photos of Dylan’s previous achievements are proudly displayed. “Wow, he looks just like you,” Brooke mutters, a look on her face that Eddie can’t quite place.  

Eddie assessed the bulletin, Dylan’s graduation, first school dance, the Munsons spending a weekend at the Harrington’s, it certainly spelled out to her what she missed out on.  

He clears his throat, quietly asking for her to continue. “Right, um, I was wondering if you could talk to our son.” 

“Our son?” Eddie asks, barely holding back his laughter. “Last time I checked you said he was my son.”  

Brooke ignores it, faltering in her seat. “I tried calling him last week, but he shut me down.”  

“What do you need me to talk to him about exactly?” Eddie leans against his desk, his hands gripping the edge.

Brooke blinks, tilting her head. “When did you cut your hair?”  

“Irrelevant. What do you need me to talk to him about?” Eddie enunciates, already feeling the exhaustion of her mere soul sucking presence.

“My sons are asking questions about him, and they would like to meet him.” She inhales, as if preparing herself for what she was about to say, “I would love to reconnect with both of you, honestly.” 

Like an anvil, Eddie feels his stomach pull him all the way down into the floor. The silence she’s given him and Dylan for the last fifteen years has been stable, reliable even. The most reliable thing about her. This is turning off the road into a ditch with nothing to instigate it. “What did he say?”  

“Uh, he had no interest in it,” Brooke shrugs, leaning back in her seat.  

Eddie nods, having expected it. “Brooke, those pictures on the wall? My son spent so much time begging me to call and get you to at least one event, one time just to show that you still cared about him.” He pauses, watching her avoid his eyes. “I left dozens of voicemails in your inbox, and I know it was your inbox, because I remember the day it went from Munson to Prescott. I begged you to show up. Just once. The last time I did was for his graduation, but by then I had stopped telling him.”  

“He told our lawyers and the judge he wanted nothing to do with me. Forgive me if I thought he was telling the truth,” Brooke huffs, her voice sounding defensive.  

“He was a child, Brooke!” Eddie deadpans, narrowing his eyes. “A child hurt by his mother’s actions tearing apart his happy family. Staying with the stable parent was probably the more appealing option.” He scratches at the stubble on his face, glancing over to the sonogram sitting on his desk. He’d hoped Brooke hadn’t caught wind of that news, yet. “At first, he was really hurt, but after a while, he just wanted his mom. Who never showed up.” 

“Well, I might be a little late, but doesn’t it count for something that I’m trying, now?” She asks, folding her arms across her chest. 

“I think it counts more that he’s about to be a father and he has no interest in including you in his kid’s life.”  

Her eyes bug right out of her head. “Wait, what?”  

“Mmhm. Seems he’d rather give what was supposed to be your title to someone he’s known for less than a year.” Eddie flickers to the photo of you he has framed, a portrait of you surrounded by the sunset in your wedding dress. “You had eight years, Brooke. Eight. You don’t get to decide to be a parent when it’s convenient for you. I never had that luxury. I had to pick myself and my son up and find a way to get through it emotionally without falling apart at the seams.”  

She seems to start talking, but Eddie is on a roll. “I finally feel like I’m living my life, and not just surviving. If you reached out five years ago, I probably would’ve said yes. I even had a low enough self-esteem to hope it would mean something more…but now I have this woman, this beautiful person who showed me how much she believes I’m worth, showed me how much I am worth. Brooke, no offense, but when I look back on it, especially comparing the two, you treated me like shit.”  

“Uh, okay,” Brooke mutters, holding her hand out. “I did not treat you like shit.”  

“You never stuck up for me with your parents, forced me to do things I was uncomfortable with all the time, gave ‘our’ son’s teachers hell all the time, and, oh yeah, left me for the person you told me not to worry about. So, no I will not be talking to my son. If he comes to the conclusion to reconnect with you, then fine. But I will not be participating.”  

“Wow, you’re being harsh.” Brooke complains, grimacing. “Eddie, I was young. I made a few stupid decisions.”  

“You know, my wife is a bit young. Somehow, she already knows not to act like a stone cold cunt.”  Brooke stutters through an empty response, completely rendered speechless. “I think we’re done here.”  

“I’m not done!”  

“Well, I suggest you be by the time my pregnant wife gets here, because she’s not your biggest fan.” It gives him the utmost satisfaction to start looking through the papers. He glances back up to her expectant expression. “Safe travels back to Boston, hmm?”  

Eddie swears the smile on your face in the photo of you grows, glad the backbone he needed seems to have finally grown. “You’re not going to even–”  

“No. I’m not. I’m done here, Brooke. Give Kevin my condolences, yeah?”  

Brooke nods, reluctantly understanding she wasn’t going to get what she wanted. Eddie had indeed grown the self-confidence she never saw when she was with him. “Condolences?” 

“Yeah, for still being stuck with you. Close the door on your way out.”  

Brooke’s nostrils flare, her jaw locking. She turns around without another word, the slam of the door echoing through the garage as she storms out, every click of her heel enunciated.  

Moments later, Joe pops through the door. “Everything, ok, Ed?”  

Eddie looks up, his dimples pronounced on his face. “Oh just, peachy, Joe. Mind if I take off for the rest of the day?”  

“I would be concerned if you didn’t, man.”  

- 

The ringing of your phone stirs you from your slumber, having passed out on the couch mid snack. An app you downloaded on your phone for the pregnancy said the first trimester would have you feeling quite sleepy, and you didn’t believe it until you find yourself constantly falling asleep during your off days, and exhausted at work when you really shouldn’t be.  

Your sister’s name lights up the screen, and the quick assessment of the movie tells you you’ve been asleep for at least forty-five minutes. “Hey, Viti.”  

“Hey, sis,” she greets, an airy tone in her voice. “Sounds like you just woke up.”  

You haven’t broken the news to your family, yet, waiting to present the information in the form of a present next time you and Eddie make your way over to your parents’ house. “Had an afternoon siesta,” you sigh, watching the movie you’re tempted to restart. The twist of Carlisle’s death just isn’t the same if you don’t build up to it. “What’s up?” 

She sighs, a habit you’re all too familiar with. “Spit it out.”  

“Okay,” she starts, gaining her courage. “Me and Arlo got together the night of your wedding.”  

If you were attempting to get rid of any sense of sleep, it disappeared within a second. The information takes a second to register, eyes darting around the living room filled with wrappers you have yet to throw out. “Harrington?”  

She laughs, probably expecting a much worse answer. “Do you know any other Arlos?”  

“Guess not.” You pet the bangs in your eyes away from your face, trying to remind yourself of the look on your baby sister’s face when she was slow dancing with him. “Ok. How did it happen?” 

“You’re okay with this?” She asks, your heart melting at how little her voice sounds.  

“It was never my choice, Vi,” you answer, using the remote to restart the movie. “If you like him and trust him, then, yeah, I’m okay with it. So how did it happen? Tell me all about it. But if you’ve slept with him, then maybe not all about it,” You chuckle. Viti sighs exasperatedly and you can practically hear her eyes roll through the phone.

“Um, so we were kind of flirting a lot after the family dinner. I thought he was just being nice, but I was willing to be his friend. It got a bit more intense at the wedding, and he asked me to dance…”  

“I saw,” you admit, granted you only saw because Eddie pointed it out to you. “What happened after that?”  

You can hear the smile on her face. “He led me to a hallway, and then we went to the hotel room I was staying in…” She trails off sheepishly. Oh, that's all you need to know.  

“Damn, girl!” you laugh, opting to push away the mental image and simply be your sister's friend right now.  

“We went to dinner last week,” she says, a giggle laced through her sentence. “I really, really like him.”  

It had to be Arlo Harrington. “Then I’m really, really happy for you. Have you told everyone else yet?”  

“You’re the last to know, to be honest. I think Eddie even knows at this point.” You roll your eyes, because of course that’s why he was so peculiar this morning.  

“Just because I don’t necessarily approve of the choice of boy doesn’t mean I won’t be happy for you. Plus, I could get used to him, after all, Steve isn’t so bad.” That’s a damn lie, Steve Harrington has become one of your favorite people. “Tell me you got out of the hotel room before mom and dad discovered you.”  

“We heard them coming down the hall…” she says, giggling. “We were dressed as they were about to come in the door. Luckily, they were both pretty drunk, so they didn’t really catch on to what was happening. Well, until the next morning at brunch, I guess.”  

Note, send a text to your mom asking about what her perspective was, because there’s a chance she knew more than she let on. You think to yourself.

“Anyway, four weeks in Cancun. Spare me the dirty details but tell me all about it,” she giggles, moving the phone away from her face, “shut up, stop, shut up!’ 

“Let me guess. Arlo?”  

A burst of giggles runs through her body and you can hear the smile on her face. “Maybe,”

“You couldn’t wait until you were alone?”  

“She’s not really alone all that much these days,” Arlo’s voice rings out. You can picture the smug smirk on his face.  

“Arlo!” She chides him, and yeah, this might not be so bad, you decide.  

“I’m gonna let you two go,” you offer, dismissing any protests she let out. “Also, without the dirty details there’s not much of the honeymoon to tell. Well, except one thing.”  

“What?” 

“You'll have someone new to meet in seven months!”  

“No way!” 

- 

If there’s one thing you know, it’s Christina Perri’s A Thousand Years is the song for the last credit scene of the Twilight Series. As each character is shown with the corresponding credit, it gets closer and closer to the main cast.  

It might just be the hormones, but this round of credits just seems to hit differently, tears spilling down your cheeks as it gets to the Cullen family. The front door to the house slams shut, announcing the arrival of your husband. Odd, he’s about three hours early.  

The weight of the cushion next to you sinks down with a comforting arm wrapping around your shoulders. Your head falls easily into his embrace, curling into his lap as you sniffle. It’s ridiculous, the irrational reaction that takes over you, but damn do the editors know how to elicit a reaction out of the audience.  

His hand pets your shoulder, kissing your forehead. “You crying at Twilight?”  

You nod, furrowing your eyebrows. “Lose the smug attitude, mister. This is your doing.”  

He laughs under his breath, petting your hair. “Hmm, that’s not how I remember our honeymoon.”  

You tilt your head back to look at his face, fretting at the curls that are starting to resemble closer to a mullet. “Just because I begged for your babies does not mean you had to listen to me.”  

He rolls his eyes, leaning in to place a kiss on your lips that takes the breath out from your lungs. As he backs away, he hums with a peculiar look on his face. “What’s on your mind?” You ask, your brows knitting together.

Eddie sighs, petting the bare skin exposed on your hip. “Minor Brooke update, today.”  

Your brows instinctively rise, feeling every little muscle in your face tense up. “Oh?” 

“Yup. Are you interested?”  

You close your eyes, asking any entity out there listening for a lick of patience. “You piqued my interest. Lay it on me.”  

Eddie can’t beat around the bush, or he would never say it. “She came into my work today.” He pauses, allowing you to absorb the information before continuing. “Requesting that I convince Dylan to…let her back into his life, so to say.” You squint, remembering the few times that Dylan had confessed about his mom to you, always finishing by claiming he wants nothing to do with her and never will.  

“Yeah, good luck with that,” you comment, watching his eyes flicker back and forth between yours.  

“She reached out to him last week and when he refused, I guess the next most logical step was to drive the six hours from Boston and corner me at work.” Your teeth grit, angry at the fucking gall that fills Brooke whatever-the-fuck her last name is. God forbid Steve or Eddie ever accidentally tell you what it is, because the day it comes her inbox will be flooded with just a little piece of your mind, and she'll be lucky if profanities are the worst things you say.

“What are you thinking?” He asks, having watched your face move through the storm of emotions.  

“I was thinking that I fucking hate your ex-wife and if she has no haters then I’m dead,” you answer, dead panning.  

“I love you,” he sighs, tugging you in against his chest. “Are you hungry?”  

You look at the wrappers decorating the mahogany coffee table, “Surprisingly yes.”  

“Lets get a real meal in you, shall we?”  

- 

Eddie is present at every doctor's appointment, every ultrasound, birthing class, and even at 20 weeks, when you were inexplicably spotting, stayed with you throughout the 7 hour wait at the ER. He certainly helped you hide from the embarrassment of the doctor explaining the bleeding seemed to be brought on by intercourse and to start being a bit more careful.  

Only one time does a health care worker mistake Eddie for being your father, a mistake quickly fixed at the death glare he gives her. You don’t know how, as you look nothing alike and he has been doting on you too affectionately to be a dad, but you can’t help teasing him by calling him daddy as soon as she leaves the room. 

Well, that’s a lie.  

There is one other time he’s mistaken for your father, running into the maternity ward and anxiously stating your name to the front desk of labor nurses. The head nurse, a woman bearing silver streaks in her hair, calmly tells him to relax and sit down, only the baby’s father is allowed in the room with patients.  

“Well you better take me to my wife, then,” he deadpans, his eyes harsh enough to shoot daggers if it were physically possible. 

She stutters through her response. “Oh, you-you’re her husband? I’m so sorry I assumed–my mistake, she’s in the third door on the left.”  

He rushes to the door, ignoring her last pleas for forgiveness. He was far too busy focusing on how he knew he shouldn’t have gone into work when he knew you were due to go into labor any day now. He knew he should've told them to ask Joe for the solution, as he was basically acting owner while he was away.  

When he bursts through the door, you’re sat on the bed in the room with Bethany petting your face as you push through a particularly hard contraction.  

He waits and watches anxiously for you to get through it before announcing his arrival. As soon as your eyes land on him he sees your face crumple in relief and your hands reach out for him. “Baby,” you whine, seeking the comfort of his shampoo and cologne.  

“I’m so sorry,” he apologizes, planting a big kiss on the hand that was reached out. “Thank you so much, Bethany, for taking her.”  

She shrugs, dismissing his over exaggerated gratitude. “She’s been a champ. Let me know if you two need anything.”  

Eddie pets your hair, leaning in to plant a gentle kiss on your lips. “How’ve you been, baby?”  

“Only been an hour, and I am so over labor,” you whine, smiling pathetically. “Thanks for coming so fast.”  

Eddie was surprised he didn’t get pulled over, going 90 down the freeway. He turned a 20 minute drive into 8. “Made any progress?” 

“I’m only one centimeter dilated. We could be here for a while.” 

“I’m here every minute,” he says, grabbing a chair to sit by your bed. “I believe in you. We’ll listen to Taylor, listen to a smutty audio book, watch a true crime series, whatever you want, baby.”  

- 

True to his word, he allowed you to blast your Faves Spotify playlist, watched a few episodes of 48 Hours with you, and even sat with you as he let you play with the makeup you had packed in your hospital bag on his face.  

You made him look like a Captain Jack Sparrow, giggling as he animatedly talks in a pirate voice. The best thing about Eddie being there is that he wards off your parents and others who wish to visit you in your labor and acts as your advocate when the nurse is too rough with you and requests a new nurse immediately. Well, and his presence alone puts you at ease, of course.  

It feels like forever, but you’re eight centimeters dilated when a familiar face walks down the hall, passing his father as he carries the millionth cup of ice chips you requested. “Bud! Did someone text you about–” 

“She told me when Bethany was driving her to the hospital, but that’s actually not why we’re here,” Dylan sheepishly admits, his shoulders shrugging up to his ears as a pink blooms across his cheeks.  

“We?” Eddie catches on, blinking. “Is Maya also..?” 

“Yeah, we got here about three hours ago,” he squinted one eye comically, crossing his arms. “She’s about halfway there, now I think.”  

“Wow she’s progressing a lot faster than we did,” Eddie comments, it taking you far more than three hours to get to five centimeters.  

“It would be ironic wouldn’t it, if they had the same birthday?”  

“Irony is one word for it,” Dylan chuckles. “My girlfriend asked for ice chips about eight minutes ago, and she is not patient, so I’m going to get back to it.” 

“Let us know any updates, won’t you?”  

“I bet my kid will be born before yours,” Dylan answers, only somewhat joking. 

“Oh, you’re on, dude.”  

- 

As nurses and the doctor rushes around you, frantically assessing the baby while helping you with the afterbirth, birthing the placenta and ridding the bodily fluids that came out with the infant. Eddie cut the cord, watching carefully as the nurses quickly washed his newborn son off.  

He’s simultaneously whispering sweet nothings against your cheek, how proud he is of you, describing your son’s dark hair, his little mouth opening as the nurse's hand gently washes it. “Did so good, baby, so good, I’m so fucking proud of you.”  

“Is he okay?” You whisper, eyes half open as you stare up at your husband’s brown ones. “J-Josh, is he okay?”  

Eddie knows exactly what you’re asking, making sure his limbs are working, that he looks healthy, that the nurses don’t look too concerned about their results. He can’t help but answer, “He’s perfect.”  

Your favorite nurse, the one who got assigned after Eddie demanded it, brings him over swaddled in a hospital blanket and tucks him into your arms. The hormones and adrenaline overwhelm you as you stare at his face, selfishly grateful he looks just like his father, happily staring at the little button nose.  

“I love you,” when you stare up at your husband, you’re expecting his eyes to also be planted on the newest member of the little family. Instead they’re shiny and planted on you, his expression drenched in pure love.  

“I love you,” you sigh, leaning in for a sweet kiss. “He’s so perfect.”  

“I fucking love you so much.” 

The love fest eventually dies down, all the medical aides surrounding you finishing up and leaving the room as they steal one last glance at the happy little family.  

You’re lost in your own little world when Dylan runs in, seeing the little addition sat on your chest. Eddie looks up to face Dylan dressed in a hospital gown and a hairnet. His face is lit up with the same joy as the room is filled with. “You wanna meet your grandson?”  

Eddie nods, quickly stopped by his wife still lying on the bed sitting in the afterglow. “Go,” you insist, petting at the soft hair on your son. “Say hi for me.”  

He smiles, placing a gentle kiss on your knotted hair, followed by his newborn. “Be right back.”  

On the way over to the emergency surgery room Dylan explains that the umbilical cord ended up twisted around his son’s neck and they took Maya straight into an emergency C-Section. He sat with his girlfriend as they emptied the contents of her abdomen to allow the newest Munson to come into the world.  

Eddie asked several times to make sure it was okay if her father in law, her boyfriend’s father, to go into a room where she is this vulnerable. Dylan insisted that she said it was fine and since Eddie was here for the birth of his son it would be cool for him to meet his grandson, too, within the same half hour.  

Miraculously, after getting in his own scrubs, Eddie wanders in with Dylan as Maya is finished with her stitches. She’s still loopy from the general anesthesia, holding her newborn on her partially covered chest.  

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Eddie asked, knowing how against visitors you were.  

“Just come say hi to your grandson, Eddie,” Maya chuckles, passing up the newborn. “Meet Jace Edward Munson.”  

“Edward?” Eddie laughs, barely holding the mist that comes to his eyes. “What?”  

Dylan scrunches his nose, tilting his head to face the newborn now in his father’s arms. “You stepped up when she left. You were everything to me. You may have stolen a girlfriend, but that is small beans in the grand scheme of things, you know?”  

“Jace and Josh,” Eddie muses, laughter bubbling up his throat. “God, they even sound like twins.”  

- 

Kayla smooths over the dress she wears, nervously looking around the classroom. Are there enough learning centers set up? Will the children like the home center she put together? Will there be any difficult teachers during her first year?  

 For the first time, she’s on her own, placed in the very class she had spent so long working toward, kindergarten.  

Her little classmates with their parents, usually mothers, wander in with wide eyes, nervously holding onto their sleeves and looking around anxiously. She talks to each little one at a time, welcoming them and offering them many activities to distract them from wanting to stay with their parents.  

One little boy doesn’t need much, or any, peeling off his father as he runs in, his shaggy brown hair rustling in as he bolts straight to the building blocks. His dad walks in right after, carrying his bag dressed in a leather jacket and acid wash jeans.  

“Hi,” he sighs, sounding tired. “That’s Dylan.”  

“M or H?” Kayla asks.  

“M.”  

“Dylan, can you grab your bag from your dad and put it in the cubby?” Dylan runs to grab his bag from his dad, shouting in slight frustration as he’s pulled in for a hug. “Yours will have an M next to your name!”  

He listens, but doesn’t look back as he runs back to the blocks.  

“I’m Eddie,” the father says, holding his hand out. “His mom, Brooke, will pick him up after school, uh, she’s a bit of a hardass, so just beware.”  

Oh, goody. She gives him a strained smile, insisting she’ll be able to handle it.  

Eddie and Dylan end up being one of his favorite pairings for the year. But when Brooke walked in, she knew it became a big deal for something as small as Dylan putting his book in the wrong pocket in his bag.  

Kayla got along great with Eddie, as they turned out to be the same age. They saw one another around the school as Dylan got older, even became someone Dylan could rely on for a maternal figure when his parents ended up divorcing in fifth grade.  

About twenty one years after initially teaching Dylan, she’s a veteran teacher in her own right, having a monopoly over classroom #3 as she continues to be the answer for dozens of individuals when asked their favorite teacher.   

She sits in her lumbar chair that her coworkers raised the money for the previous Christmas as she finally is able to look over her newest class list. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until she came across 9th and 8th from the last name, two boys with J initials and the last name Munson. She’d been wondering if she would ever have the pleasure of teaching Dylan’s boys, or if he decided to skip town like most of his classmates.  

Their birthday right next to their attendance names indicated they had the same birthdate, so she was safe to assume she would have another set of twins. If they were anything like Dylan, they would be a fun sort of challenge for her, that she was sure of.  

On the first day the following fall, she keeps an eye out for her former student, keeping in mind it could very well be the mother that decides to drop them off.  

As she’s helping a particularly shy child settle into her classroom, she notices a parent helping their kid out of the wind breaker they’re wearing. As soon as the little girl is settled she goes to them welcoming them. She immediately recognizes the parent. “Dylan!”  

“Oh, Miss. Thompson! I didn’t realize you were still teaching!” He sheepishly admits, looking at the plaque now containing her married name.  

“I am just married, now,” she answers, answering him the same way she would a student out of habit. “Now, who do we have here?”  

“I’m Jace,” the little boy answers shyly, brown hair of this father but stark green eyes.  

“Well, Jace, would you mind finding your name at one of the cubbies for me? I think you’re put right next to someone named Josh,” she tells him, watching for any recognition of the other name she thought was his twin.  

“Oh, sweet!” Jace exclaims, running with his Pokémon bag.  

She gets up from her squatting position, her knees far too achy for doing it continually like she still is. “So, there’s another Munson on the class list, would you know anything about that?” 

Dylan chuckles, sighing. “Well, about that–” Dylan is interrupted by a little boy with dark hair hugging him, exclaiming his name. “Hey, Josh, we were just talking about you!”  

Josh laughs, tugging on Dylan’s arm. “Is Jace here?” 

“Yeah, he’s playing with the dinosaurs, if I know him.” 

“Cool!” Josh runs straight off, meeting his supposed relative at the play carpet.  

Kayla turns around in confusion, questioning what just happened.  

As if answering her, in comes another familiar face, holding a bag that looks comically small compared to his tall stature. “Ah, Kayla. I was wondering if you were still here.”  

“Eddie!” She greets him, giving a very frank hug. “I have to admit, I am very confused.” 

“That’s okay, you wouldn’t be the first,” Eddie comments, crossing his arms. “Me and my wife had Josh at the same time Dylan had Jace. They’re assholes, they like to gang up on adults, but don’t let them intimidate you, they can’t with their adults anymore, so they try it on teachers.” 

“Takes a lot more than that to intimidate me,” Kayla answers, looking back at the boys who gained ownership over the carpet with dinosaurs and cars. “I appreciate the warning, though.” She looks back to her old friend, seeing the smile lines on his face, still carrying his son’s things. “I’m happy you found someone, though.”  

“Thanks. His mom will pick him up after school,” Eddie tells her, going to the cubby with his kid’s name on it. “She’s not as bad as Brooke, so there’s no worries, there.”  

“Alright, can’t wait to meet her.”  

Eddie and Dylan share a look, one that Kayla misses as she starts to welcome in a few new classmates.  

- 

The bell rings for lunch for the rest of the elementary school and end of day for the kindergarteners. Mrs. Franklin, or Miss. Thompson, as Dylan knows her, helps all her students with their backpacks and jackets. It’s one thing to manage five-year-olds, it’s another to get them to stop wrestling and help them simultaneously.  

The Munson boys are certainly no help, Josh trying to stick his finger up Jace’s nose, pinning him down on the dirty floor as Jace wiggles underneath him. Kayla wished Josh would stop telling Jace he’s his uncle and he has to listen to him, that way she wouldn’t have to hold back her laughter so hard.  

“Okay, Mr. and Mr. Munson, break it up, your parents will be here any minute now. Get up.” They both switch their glances up to her, eyebrows raised over wide eyes. “Get up.”  

They roll their eyes, Josh reluctantly getting off Jace slowly and helping him up. Slowly but surely, parents start to pick their kids up, both Munsons waiting for their parents anxiously. You wonder in with your youngest, a little three year old by the name of Stevie. She holds onto your pointer and middle finger anxiously, eyes darting around at the unfamiliar noises and faces.  

Your son is seemingly nowhere to be seen, usually seen with his counterpart but you can’t see him around the crowd of parents kneeling with their kids and asking how their day was. The teacher,  someone both Dylan and Eddie insisted is the best in the school, approaches you kindly to ask which kid is yours.  

Before you can even answer Josh runs into you, happily glancing up at you as he wraps his arms around your legs. “Hi, baby,” you greet him, kneeling down as you pet his sweet face.  

You miss the peculiar look Mrs. Franklin, or Kayla as Eddie referred to her as, gives you. Surprised to say the least that the Mrs. Munson she has yet to meet is so young. Her brows furrow even further when Jace notices you, yelling, “Grandma!” as he also runs for a hug.  

“Were you boys nice to Mrs. Franklin today?”  

“Of course!” Josh smiles, and you squint through his bullshit.  

“Well we’re gonna make sure to be nicer or we’re gonna have to lose our tablet privileges, won’t we?”  

You get back up, smiling at their grumbly faces. They never listen to new adults, it was a field day at their first day of preschool. One glance to their teacher’s observant face told you all you needed to know. “Eddie didn’t warn you, he?”  

“No, but they did have a peculiar look on their faces when I mentioned meeting you. Should’ve known better, with those two,” you tilt your head, curious at what she meant. “Seriously, your husband needs to tell you more. I taught Dylan when he was in kindergarten.”  

“Oh!” you exclaim, somewhat surprised. “That’s really cool! Were you surprised to see Eddie wi–” 

“With another kid,” she interrupts, laughing, “yes, I was. I’m happy to see that he found someone else, Brooke, was, well, she was not a nice person.”  

Your eyebrows raise at the mention of your husband’s ex-wife, this being the first person she meets outside Eddie’s inner circle to having even mentioned Brooke. “So, I’ve heard.”  

“Hey mom,” you hear behind you, you shove the owner before you even see him, rolling your eyes.  

It’s very recently become a silly habit of Dylan’s to call you mom, due to your son asking why his brother calls his mom by her real name and not mom like he does. After the best attempt at explaining Dylan has a different mom who is no longer around, Josh is still confused and insists that you still act like his mom, so therefore, are Dylan’s mom. 

It was awkward at first, but now it’s a little inside joke. If you were told when you first got together with Eddie that Dylan would be referring to you as a maternal figure, you probably would’ve hit them on the head for fucking with you.  

“Hey, kiddo,” you tease back, mocking his twisted face expression. “They were apparently giving her a hard time today.”  

“Of course they were. You know we can ask one of you to switch classes, right?” Dylan asks, an aura of authority in his voice.  

Their eyes go wide, even though it was a threat in their preschool room, they have yet to consider this. You didn’t want to resort to threats but with their shenanigans, it's literally one of the only things that will work.  

“C’mon, your dad is making your favorite for dinner,” your shoulder cascades around Josh’s shoulder, telling him to say bye to his nephew and that he’ll see him tomorrow.  

Two years later, Stevie shows up with her dark curls down to her shoulders after her father, giggling as she says hi to the teacher.  

That was the last time Kayla taught one of Eddie Munson’s kids. Or, so she assumed.  

- 

The double doors to the high school flew open, big black boots echoing as the large leather jacket trails behind a slim torso. He takes the immediate left into the office, his presence large, with grey streaks leaking into his roots and an angry look on his face.  

The kind administration lady looks up to his expectant face, the curiosity quickly melting into confounded terror. “Can I help you?” 

“Apparently Stevie Munson is in the office right now?” Better be a damn good reason for peeling me away from one of the only moments I have left alone with my wife, he thinks, eyes observing around the office.  

“Yes, she is, uh, are you her–” 

“Her father, are you going to let me in the office or do I have to let myself in?” 

The surprise that fills her features would be charming if Eddie wasn’t so fucking annoyed. He’s used to the assumption by now, but for the moment he just doesn’t have any patience in his body.  

“You can go right ahead, Mr. Munson,” she peeps out, gesturing to the door marked Principal. Eddie’s not sure why he even asked, or how he had the foresight to ask, first. He’s surprised, honestly.  

The door opens to face the school principal, his daughter and a boy sitting two seats away from her nursing his face with an ice pack. “Mr. Munson, welcome in! Have a seat.”  

“No thanks,” Eddie answers, polite, but curt. He looks at his daughter, “What happened?”  

She opens her mouth to answer but is interrupted by the bald principal, “I didn’t ask you, I asked her. What happened?” He directs his attention back to his daughter.

She smiles at him, the same sweet smile his wife bares. “This guy touched my ass under my skirt, so I punched him in the face.”  

Eddie’s brows raised, teeth gritted as he sends a daggers at the boy he is now aware assaulted his daughter. “I’m sorry?” He asks, now directed to the principal.  

“So she says,” the principal says, eyes widening at how Eddie manages to look murderous. “Granted, even if Mr. Jackson did do that, it’s not a good enough reason to assault him. She will be suspended for two days.”  

Eddie laughs, loudly, shaking his head at the gall, the fucking nerve. This principal is extremely lucky it was him who answered his phone and not you. “Really? My daughter got sexually assaulted and your reaction to her defending herself is suspending her? Are you fucking kidding me?”  

“Mr. Munson, if you could please calm down and have a seat,” he starts, gesturing to the chair, yet again.  

“Oh, I am calm. You don’t want to see me angry,” Eddie answers, the Hulk flashing through his mind. “You deciding to punish her tells me exactly why this little shit felt confident enough to lay his hands on her, to begin with. I just think about all the other girls he’s done this to, too afraid to speak up, I wonder how many times he’s done this with no consequence to feel confident enough to touch under a skirt. What the fuck is this place? No-tolerance bullying policy? Utter bullshit.”  

“Mr. Munson, calm down before I call security–”  

“Don’t make me laugh. Seriously. Don’t.” Eddie sighs, pinching his nose. “If you do suspend her, I will press charges against him and I will sue this fucking school. If you punish him, like you’re supposed to, take him off his team for the season, put him in detention for a month, I don’t care, something with fucking consequences, I won’t. You decide.” 

He looks down at the little shit, whimpering as he still nurses the barely there bruise. “You better hope I don’t hear you doing this shit to any other girl in this school, or you won’t get into any college in the country.” He pauses, opening the office door to an audience. Maybe he was louder than he thought he was. “C’mon Stevie, let’s go get some fucking ice cream.”  

When you heard about how your husband stuck up for your daughter like that, you got on your knees for him in the bathroom. That might’ve cheered him up a bit.  

- 

The sounds are familiar yet foreign when you wake up to the blindingly white room, the chatter in the hallway and some heart monitor beeping. Two people immediately come into focus, Josh, sitting at the end of the bed on his phone, Stevie sitting concerned by your head.  

You moan, sitting up in your bed annoyed at the stark contrast of the back of your eyelids. “What the hell?”  

“Mom!” Josh shouts, getting up and standing on the other side of his sister.  

“Mom,” Stevie runs out of the room, calling for a doctor.  

You look to your son, brows furrowed. “What happened?”  

“You passed out at the grocery store. You fainted and you didn’t wake up until just now.”  

Your brows raise, because you haven’t felt off even the slightest. The dizziness hit you out of nowhere, going from fine to woozy in two seconds and falling flat on your face. “How long ago did that happen?” 

“Like twenty minutes? The ambulance got there pretty quickly,” he admits, turning his head to his sister and the nurse coming in the door. 

“Mrs. Munson! So glad to see you awake. I’ll let the doctor know and he should be able to give your results,” she says, sweet smile as she turns away.  

Stevie’s bottom lip is stuck out, quivering as she grabs the hand containing an IV line. You thought that was a bit much. “Stevie, I’m okay.” 

“Are you sure, because I heard the nurses saying it’s not normal to stay out that long after fainting. What if you’re sick?”  

“I’m okay,” you insist, watching both their worried faces. “Fuck, you called your dad, didn’t you?” 

“Uh, yes! He would’ve killed us if we didn’t!” Josh laughs, leaning back in his chair.  

As if summoned, your husband pokes his head in, his eyes wide as he walks in the room, hands out to you as his long legs take him to the head of the bed. “Fucking Christ.” 

“Hi, baby,” you greet him, leaning into the forehead kiss that he gives you. “I’m okay.” 

“Fainting in the fucking grocery store, fucking hell. My god, baby.” He looks over to his kids, “What tests have they done, so far?” 

“Just a blood test, I think,” Stevie shrugs. 

“They might do an MRI but that could take weeks of waiting.” Josh offers no comfort to his dad despite his best efforts.  

“I’m okay, really.” You insist to all their worried faces. “You didn’t call anyone else, did you?”  

“Uh, we called Dylan,” Josh says, wincing at your annoyed face. “And Jace.”  

“Fuck,” you mutter, intertwining your hand with Eddie’s rough one.  

The doctor doesn’t come as quickly as the nurse promised, but he comes within two hours. “Oh, hello, you have quite the visitors, don’t you?”  

You shrug, rubbing his thumb as it anxiously rubs your hand.  

“We have the results, inconclusively.” The air is tense, every one of the family seemingly expecting terrible news. “Congrats! You’re pregnant.”  

You knew nothing was wrong, but this was not what you were expecting. You’re forty-two, Eddie is nearly seventy. You weren’t even sure he could still get you pregnant. You meet your husband’s eyes, sharing a bewildered smile.  

In the meantime, shouts of disgust from your teenage kids fill the room, standing up with tense shoulders.  

“Gross!” 

“Ew! I didn’t even know you guys still did it! Oh my god! Ew!!!!”  

You bite your lip, shrugging. “Are you wanting to be a father to a newborn at almost 70?”  

Eddie smirks, leaning in for a kiss that makes your kids jeer again. “Bring it on, baby.”  

Steve calls an hour later, concerned for the text his name sake sent him. When Eddie informs him, you’re pregnant, twenty years of karma hits tenfold.  

When Steve and Jocelyn said they were pregnant with Eliza fifteen years after having Dustin, Eddie spent the pregnancy making fun of their oopsie baby. Asking if they knew what protection was, joking how they still had sex, telling them to keep it in their pants, the works.  

Now, Steve was more than happy to return the favor. “A baby at 70, you old bastard? What was that you told me twenty years ago? God, I’m surprised you two still do it, considering how low Eddie’s ball sack must be hanging.”  

“You wish you could see my ball sack, you asshole,” Eddie teases, laughing with you as you sigh. “You’re just jealous I can still keep it up, you geriatric bastard.”  

- 

Five years later, when Eddie and Kayla are older, he wanders into classroom #3 for the last time, holding his third son who ends up being notoriously clingy towards his older father.  

It’s ironic to the both of them how Eddie has a son for both Kayla’s first and last year of teaching, keeping tabs on one another for the duration of forty years.  

Eddie doesn’t say anything, letting Tommy down and dismissing her questioning look. Don’t wanna talk about it.

By the time Tommy is 18, Eddie is too old to give a shit, wondering constantly what Wayne’s opinion will be when he ends up knocking on heaven’s door.  

When you got into your sixties, Eddie was full of gratitude, thankful that you will no longer be confused for one of his kids despite his actual kids all calling you mom. He makes fun of your vision, stealing his reading glasses constantly despite his constant insisting that you get your own pair.  

Despite the smile lines by his lips and his eyes, the sunspots decorating his skin, you still stare up at him like you did when he was forty-seven.  

Your lives were forever intertwined from the moment you saw him, from the moment he saw you. He lies down in your bed next to you for the millionth time, his hand caressing your side, pressing kisses on whiskered lips, it doesn’t occur to you to ever be anything less than woefully in love with him.     

———————-

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[cevansbrat0007]

Hello 🤗 I am back to cause chaos lol I have had this thought for days. What about the reaction of Andy and or Ari if there girl goes and gets waxed down there and they usually go to a woman but this time it was a man ?

Summary: Ari doesn't approve of your latest trip to the spa.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Jealous/Possessive Ari Levinson, Arguments, Smut, Discussions of Personal Grooming Habits, Manhandling, Oral Sex (fem rec), Ass Slapping, Cursing, Minors DNI.

A/N: Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

You and Ari are in the middle of a conversation one evening, with both of you taking turns catching the other up on the events of your day. 

“Anyway, I can’t wait to try their new, revamped line of body butters they’ve got coming out next month.” You pause for a moment to shut the dishwasher before dutifully pressing start. “I remember the first time I used their hibiscus and papaya scrub – wait. Or was it the oil?”

You cast a glance over your shoulder at your handsome Bounty Hunter who’s been busy holding up a wall in your kitchen ever since he walked in the door less than fifteen minutes ago. You’re not the least bit surprised when you see him shrug, the poor man looking so lost it was almost comical.    

“Eh, I can’t quite remember.” Your fingers come up to tap your chin. “But whatever it was, it seriously had me smelling so good practically all flippin’ day.” 

Satisfied, you return your attention back to tidying up your kitchen. Since Ari had texted saying he’d already eaten and you hadn’t wanted to leave the clean-up to the last minute, you’d decided to tackle it before you got too tired and didn’t feel like doing it anymore.

“Now, Beast, if you find yourself hungry in the middle of the night you just go on and help yourself. And don’t forget about the biscuits.” You tell him as you move to wash your hands. “They are literally the backbone of the entire dish.”

A beat goes by before your rugged companion responds. And when he finally does, it’s with something you least expect.  

“So, I take it there weren’t any, uh, other lady waxers workin’ at that fancy spa place of yours today?” Ari coughs, appearing more than a little uncomfortable with the subject matter at hand. 

“Huh?” Confused, you lean back against the countertops before bracing yourself on your elbows. “That’s all you managed to get out of the last ten minutes?”

His sheepish response of “well, yeah” has you shaking your head in exasperation. 

“Of course there were. The staff at Ostara is almost all exclusively female.”   

“Oh. It’s just that…” He gazes up at the ceiling, almost like he’s waiting for the right words to come tumbling down out of the sky. “When I asked how your day was a little bit ago, you mentioned that someone named Michèle handled your waxing appointment. I just assumed it was a woman...” 

“Nope.” You reply, crossing your arms over your chest. “Michèle is most definitely a guy.”  

“Okay.” Ari blows out an uncertain breath the same time as one of his big hands comes to rub at the back of his neck. “Not too sure how I feel about that.”

“About what?”

He gives a lame shrug before jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “‘I guess I’m just not too keen on the idea of another man seeing you…like that. In fact I know I’m not.”

His words have your mouth falling open. “Beast!” You exclaim, slapping an incredulous hand to your forehead. “I promise that we kept everything strictly professional.”

“Never said it wasn’t.” He mumbles, even as he continues glowering at you from across the room.   

“Welp, now that we cleared that up I think I’m ready for bed.” You push away from the counter, intending to put an end to the discussion by heading upstairs. Although a part of you should’ve known that it couldn’t possibly be that easy. “If you decide you wanna join me, you might wanna try getting over yourself first.” 

“Now hold on.” He goes to reach for you as you pass by, but because you see it coming, you manage to dance out of the way. “Bird, wait!”

You simply didn’t have the energy to argue with him about something as trivial as this tonight. He could get over it, or he could go home.

“Slow down a second, woman!”

To your credit, you manage to make it all the way to the top of the stairs and into your bedroom without looking back once. Not that you needed to anyway since you could feel that your Bounty Hunter was hot on your heels. 

“Hey!” Ari growls, snagging a fistful of your oversized sleepshirt and hauling you flush against his hard chest. “You know I hate it when you walk away in the middle of a conversation. Drives me fuckin’ nuts every single time.”

Now that you knew to be true. It was part of the reason you always kept that move in your back pocket. Because it always bought you time while pissing him off. 

“You were being ridiculous.” You tell him, reaching behind you to twine your arms around his neck. “But if you’re finished, I suppose I could be convinced to let you take me to bed.” 

All is quiet for a moment as your eyes flutter closed, your body content to relax as you listen to the sound of his heartbeat. A hint of a smile tugs at your mouth when you feel two large, warm hands settle on your hips, followed by a whisper of lips tracing along the shell of your ear. 

“How ‘bout you finish telling me about why you let another man see what’s mine?” While Ari manages to keep his tone low and even, there’s no mistaking the fact that he’s pissed.

And just like that, the spell is broken. Immediately, you pull away – surprised when he lets you go. 

“Seriously?” You snap, almost tripping over your own two feet. “I already told you, the girl who usually does it called in sick. What else did you expect me to do, Ari? Skip it?”

“Well, maybe.” Ari grunts, his sensual lips curving into a frown. “Not sure why you even felt the need to subject yourself to that shit in the first place. I had no idea when I left you this morning that you were planning to abuse my pussy like that.” You watch as he runs an agitated hand through his chestnut locks. 

“Just so we’re clear, this is my body we’re talking about, okay? Which means I'm in control of what happens to it.” You perch on the edge of the bed, your entire body bristling with annoyance. It was a shame that your man refused to let this one ride.

“Bullshit.” He hisses before grabbing the bottom of his faded gray t-shirt and dragging it over his head. “I’m not talking about your body, I’m talking about my pussy. The same greedy cunt I find myself feedin’ damn near everyday.”

“Oh, don’t be crass.” Your tone is rife with indignation, even as you feel your cheeks heat. 

“Who the hell’s bein’ crass, Duchess? All I’m doing is telling the truth.” Next he goes to work on his jeans, unfastening the button and zipper before dragging them down his legs and kicking them into a random corner of the room, leaving him clad in only a pair of black boxer briefs. “I tell you all the time about how fucking greedy she is, don’t I?”

Okay, fine. But that didn’t mean he had to be so loud about it. So what if you hadn’t been the type to enjoy sex all that much before Ari came along? Now you couldn’t get enough. Where was the crime, officer?  

“I’m not that greedy.” You pout, doing your best to ignore the wetness coating your thighs.

“Baby.” Ari murmurs, bridging the distance so that he can bend down to take your lips in a brief kiss. “How many times have you been done – I’m talking absolutely spent – and she hasn’t wanted to let me go?” He briefly distracts himself by twisting one of your curls around his finger. “So I’ve gotta take you again. Fuck you even longer and harder so she’ll finally let us both get some rest.” 

“I–I’m not even sure I know what you’re talking about.” Except you absolutely did know what he was talking about. And it was absolutely true. Well, most of it anyway. 

“Is that so?” Ari murmurs as his voice dips, his tone pitched to arouse. “Then perhaps you need me to help jog your memory.” His leans in trail a line of soft, sensual kisses along the curve of your throat. 

“Maybe.” You rasp, tilting your chin up so as to grant him easier access. 

“I’ll do whatever you want so long as today is the last day I ever have to hear about you letting another man see what’s mine.”

“That is IT!” You snap, shooting off the bed so fast you barely miss smacking heads. “Fuck you, Ari Levinson! If you’re so hellbent on making something out of nothing then you can just see yourself out already.”

“I can’t help it if what I’m feeling actually feels like something instead of nothing.” You can’t help but notice the way his heated gaze tracks your every movement. 

“For the last time, I went to a salon and spa to see a licensed esthetician for a professional waxing appointment like I have done for ages. Today it just so happened to be with a guy.” This time when he tries to touch you’re quick to slap his hand away. “Nothing happened other than me enduring having hot wax poured onto, and then subsequently ripped off of, my nether regions. That is it.” You huff, poking him in the chest with your finger. 

“And I’m trying to tell you that you didn’t need to put yourself through all that.” You jump when he nips at the offending finger, gently catching it between his teeth. “Not for me. I don’t mind a little hair. Doesn’t bother me any.”

Well, you would be sure to file that one away for future reference.

“But I didn’t do it for you, you goof!” You yank your hand away, attempting to put some distance between yourself and the annoying, half-naked Bounty Hunter standing in front of you. “I did it for me. It’s part of my…my self-care, or whatever.” Your pulse speeds up when you watch him reach inside his boxers to adjust his rapidly hardening cock. “Okay? But I won’t use Michèle again if it bothers you that much.”

“Appreciate that.” Ari nods once, his perfect teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he slowly backs you into a corner. “But I wanna put it on record that I’m the type of man who’s gonna enjoy his meal however you’re fixin’ to serve it, sweet Bird.”

Holy shit. Why the fuck did that make your pussy gush the way it just did?

“M–meaning?” You gasp when you collide with a nearby wall. Grinning, Ari slips a wandering hand between your bodies, pleased when he finds you naked and wet for him. He cups your bare pussy, reveling in the way your sticky honey eagerly coats his palm.  

“I just don’t want you thinkin’ about depriving me because you’re in between appointments, or 'cuz your regular gal has to reschedule.” You let out a whimper when Ari grinds the heel of his palm against your swollen clit. “I’m afraid that’s not going to work for me. Or, I suspect, for her.” 

“You’re so bossy.” You whine, rising on your toes as he continues to tease you. “You really gotta work on that.”

“You think so, beautiful Bird?” He gazes down at you through lidded eyes, his easy grin bordering on indulgent. And then he applies more pressure, not missing the way your toes curl into the plush carpet as pleasure begins to overwhelm you.        

“Uh huh.” Your hands go to grip his forearm, perhaps hoping to better increase the friction. 

“Then I reckon I just might owe you an apology.” And truth be told, he recognized that he probably did. It was entirely possible that he let the whole Michèle thing bother him more than it ought to. Perhaps he’d sleep on it and see how he felt about it all tomorrow. Or not.

But for now, there was something else he could do to help mend things – provided he was willing to get a little filthy. 

Ari surprises you by removing his hand. But just when you’re about to pitch a fit, he drops to his knees in front of you. “Let me make it up to you, sweetheart.” He begins as his fingers trail their way along the soft skin of your calf. “Let me apologize for giving into some of my baser instincts, like the neanderthal you’ll probably wanna claim that I am.”

“Beast–” You open your mouth to respond, only to let out a surprised squeal when he picks up your leg and drapes it over one of his broad shoulders. “Jesus!”

“Hush.” He then leans in to bestow a hot, open mouthed kiss to your exposed pussy. He groans against your most intimate flesh, savoring the sweet, earthy taste of you. “Need to make sure she’s okay before I start apologizing too much.” Is all he says before he goes back to burying his face between your thighs, nuzzling at your glistening folds with the tip of his nose. 

“Are you sensitive anywhere?” Ari growls, his voice coming out slightly muffled as he circles your throbbing bundle of nerves with his skilled tongue. “Sore?”

“No.” You breathe, lightly running your fingers through his dark brown strands. “In fact, I feel ah-may-zing.” You finish with a tiny giggle.

“Good.” 

That’s your only warning before your world suddenly shifts as Ari tosses your other leg over his shoulder. Next thing you know, he’s back to standing at his full height. And you’re now touching the ceiling with your thighs locked around his head.     

“Omigosh!” You cry, the sound of your nervous laughter filling the room. “You’re gonna hurt yourself if you don’t – ooh…oh God yes…yesyesyes!” You smack your open palm against the ceiling as your Bounty Hunter begins to eat you like a man starved. 

“Oh don’t stop, Beast, please!” You sob, grinding your dripping pussy against Ari’s face, soaking his beard just the way he likes.  

Words, rough and unintelligible, rumble out from somewhere deep in his chest. And while you may not be able to understand him, you know exactly what he’s trying to tell you. His hands gripping your ass to hold you in place are enough to drive the message home. 

You were to take everything he gave you like a good girl. His good girl. So you do. You practically scream yourself hoarse as Ari takes his time tormenting you with every sensual flick, every tortuous swirl of his wide, flat tongue.

He gets off on the way he's making your legs shake, the sound of you unbridled cries and soft whimpers leaving him painfully hard. But still he doesn’t stop. He continues taking his time, worshiping you the best way he knows how.

“I’m sorry, baby.” Ari grunts when he finally comes up for air, his breaths coming in sharp pants. “But I’m still gonna need a little more time to work on my apology.” One of his hands delivers a swift blow to your ass, making you yip. “Really need to reconsider my behavior today while I put a fresh spitshine on my pussy.” He winks at you then, letting you know that he means every word.

“I’m sure she won’t mind.” He quips with a grin, his chin still shiny with your juices. “And neither will you.”

END

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[still-a-morosexual-help]

Actually the concept of Nightbringer is so funny?

It's a fish out of water situation like with S1 (and many other otome games) except MC won't be the fish

They're the one who's going to know the most about the Devildom's history and culture and customs (even thousands of years in the past) while the brothers have just been dropped on their asses fresh outta the Celestial Realm where, at this point in time, demons are thought of as purely evil beings who can't even conceive the idea of peace

The brothers should, rightfully, be the ones floundering because their bodies, self, magic, entire world, world view and concept of just about anything has being flipped on its head while MC who was scarily adaptable to new situations in S1 itself has been living in & out of the Devildom for years now.

The brothers are going to be given new high positions within the Devildom while still holding disdain for demons and MC's gonna be their "demon attendant" who they'll obviously see as a lower class of demon from themselves - giving them two reasons to disregard MC - except MC would be scarily competent and just seeming to quietly know everything while also being weirdly mysterious.... do you see what I'm getting at? MC's gonna be giving off a S1 Barbatos-esque vibe to the brothers😭😭😭 (though obviously less stoic)

Mammon's gonna say or do something and MC's gonna say "oooh I know that look" and Mammon's gonna be like "????We literally just met???"

Or Belphie's gonna talk about how terrible humans are and how he wants to kill them all and MC's gonna be like "haha yeah wow they're the worst huh" while trying to pretend they're not a human who was more than willing to kill another human for daring to point a gun at Belphie

Or the brothers are gonna be settling down in their new home and MC's gonna be like "lol remember to put aside some money for Beel" and Lucifer's gonna be like "wha-" and Beel's already eaten half the sofa

Or MC's gonna forget and mention a new anime that was supposed to come out and Levi's gonna be like "what's anime?" and MC's gonna have to sit there in silence for a while to process

MC's gonna instantly know how to make Lucifer's shitty black-darker-than-his-actual-soul coffee and that might be the reason why present Lucifer likes his coffee like that

MC's gonna know the brothers more than they even know themselves and that's driving me insane

Also pretending to be a "demon attendant" as if Barbatos who can see through timelines & alternate universes and Diavolo who can tell when people are lying won't instantly know. And MC who knows them so well is going to know that they know. Just constantly "haha yes I'm the sins' demon attendant that you definitely appointed haha👁👁" and "haha yes you're the sins' demon attendant whom we definitely appointed haha👁👁"

Also what's Solomon's angle here?? Because he doesn't start seeing demons as friends until after he meets MC in the future. At this point they're beings he can trick & use to achieve his goals (one of which is getting closer to Lucifer & making a pact). So he's definitely not helping MC out of the goodness of his heart and this is probably another way to achieve that goal (specially if he finds out MC's already made pacts with all 7 sins).

Anyway, sounds like fun times for everyone! Oh and also trauma for the brothers ig

[tokyo-debunkers-headcanons]

Vagastrom (+ Lucas my bbi 💖) and MC are absent-minded and forgetful

(I'm thinking about Leo's expression when MC forgot about their date 🙋🏻‍♀️)

This is me deadass lol! Thank you for sending in a request!

ALAN MIDO

Alan would be worried that something happened at first. He would get Sho to call MC and see if they were alright.

He wouldn't catch on until sometime later when they were at the garage and he asked them to grab him a tool that he left in the other room, while he worked on a car.

He would hear them walk away. He'd wait patiently, wondering if maybe they didn't know what the tool he asked for looked like. After a few minutes of silence he would slide out from under the car and find them doing something else. When they explained that they forgot as soon as they came into the room. It all clicked.

He'll actually be pretty patient with them. He understands what its like to not be the best at something (like him and tech) so he won't yell or get pissy when they forget something.

He'll drop a gentle reminder any time he sees them, especially if its something important like medication or an important appointment.

SHOHEI HAIZONO "SHO"

.

Sho will at first think something happened. He'll shoot them a quick text to ask where the hell they are. And when they tell him he forgot he'll roll his eyes and remind them.

With a brother like his (iykyk) he's used to that sort of thing, so it doesn't bother him too much.

The only time it will genuinely piss him off is if MC forgot that he was making food and they go out to eat. Like they grabbed fast food when he already made dinner.

I HC Sho as someone who hates wasting good food. So if there's one way to piss him off its that.

He wouldn't snap at MC but he would give them a bit of a lecture before a short while of silent treatment. Its not just about the food though. Its about the fact that he put so much effort into something and they just forgot.

Once he learned that it was kinda who they were he'll be more forgiving but he'll still get pissed.

LEO KUROSAGI

Okay Leo is petty when it first happens. If Sho gives them a littl a while of silent treatment, Leo will straight up act like they don't exist until they've either apologized with starbies or he's satisfied.

Once he learns its not their fault, he'll still be petty but he'll set alarms on their phone. He isn't going to spam call or text them. That's super desperate and ugly in his opinion (even if he wants to)

Leo is one of those guys who will stay mad if they forgot. The only time he won't is if it was an emergency (like they're dead)

LUCAS ERRANT "LUCA"

Our boi Luca doesn't get mad. He gets a little one track minded himself (obviously) she he's always patient with MC.

He'll pick up on it faster than Alan though, thats for sure. He'll give them gentle reminders every now and then and try to keep them on track when they're together.

If he's not with them he'll send them texts about what they may have to do. If they asked him to he'd even try to find ways to help: giving them a list, reminding them, setting alarms, etc.

He can't lie that it does upset him a little when they forget about dates or important things, but he tries not to take it personally. That and he'll tell MC how he's feeling and why.

[urdgealesisbaby]

Hello! Sorry for disturbing you! Could you please write a headcanon, fem reader, while struggles with depression and social anxiety, and if it's not too much, one with fem reader who loves reading and painting with Guren, Shinya, Ferid, Pantalone and Neuvillette? Thank you and if it too much, its OK, no worries 🤗

Hello! Sure thing!

I think these are my first Genshin headcanons too!

Guren Ichinose,Shinya Hiiragi,Ferid Bathory,Pantalone and Neuvillette with a reader that struggles with depression and social anxiety(and also loves reading and painting)

Guren Ichinose

-I think he's really okay when it comes to care for someone

-like he may seem a bit depressed himself but he knows how to make sure that you do feel good

-very careful around you

-need a bath? He already prepared it; need a new book to read? He already bought it

-kind of an ideal boyfriend I think of in these situations

-he really likes you so he is going to make sure that his precious darling is feeling good and anything doesn't hurt you

-really protective; someone bothering you? Already dead/scared for their lives

Shinya Hiiragi

-he is always a calm/chill man

-like for real he thinks that anything can be solved through a calm attitude

-if you have social anxiety he's going to make sure that you are comfortable wherever you two may go

-if someone dares to say something about you being too quiet or anything like that he will umm make sure they're not going to do that ever again.

-very careful around you just like Guren

-isn't the type to cheer you up with excitement or a happy face,he will just try to calm you down

-since he is kinda quiet himself he isn't like the extrovert that makes people happy with their excitement

-a very good listener

Ferid Bathory

-honestly out of all the people in the world,Ferid is a questionable guy when it comes to depression

-like he doesn't know what is that and how does he deal with it

-of course that once he learns that you have it,he'll make sure to document everything on this subject

-though his playful attitude won't help very much

-I think he'll just put on shows for you to make you happy

-or whatever he thinks that is happiness

-he may seem as just playful and manipulative on the outside, but I do believe that he can and will take care of his s/o if they're in big trouble

Pantalone

-I kinda believe that despite all that rich man stuff,Pantalone has social anxiety

-like yeah he's a Harbinger,he's dangerous,but he has anxiety

-I feel like he's not very popular among the Harbingers too,like he's just there with all his rich stuff(we don't forget about the Yelan stealing situation lol)

-he will understand what you are feeling very well since he deals with that too

-most likely his love language is either giving you comfort or bringing you expensive gifts

-uses his money to buy you the craziest shit ever just because he thinks that maybe that will make you at least a bit happier

Neuvillette

-he isn't a human so it may be a new thing for him

-though he most likely experienced sadness or even depression while being a dragon,he just didn't knew how to call it

-those feelings are certainly something he wants to share with you

-he will be very soft with you

-and by that I mean the fact that he'll sometimes forget that he's the ruler of Fontaine and he'll just focus all his attention on you

-you're really that one person for him,so if he sees you being sad he will be trying his best to cheer you up

-he'll proceed to make you some appointments to therapy

-if that helps you then he's more happy than ever to hear that

Thank you for the request and I hope you liked these!

[just-jordie-things]

ik you’ve written abt megumi a lot lately but i’m in deep right now lol😭 can i request a childhood friends to lovers with him and the readers met everyone that he knows except Itadori and Nobara? i feel like meeting them with him would be very chaotic and possibly embarrassing for him

childhood friends to lovers >>>

you're probably the only friend he made in grade school, unless you count tsumiki. honestly megumi isn't sure why you insisted on hanging out with him during recess or lunch, seeing his reputation was a little... well, you know how it was.

at first he's probably a little annoyed that you keep insisting on hanging around him, but eventually you're just a constant in his life. he wouldn't admit it, but on days that you stayed home sick or had an appointment during school hours, he was a little bit lonely.

(tsumiki teases him constantly and is always asking about you)

it's not until you admit a secret to him that he decides you probably are his best friend, and will finally admit it out loud. he'll never forget the nervous way you told him that you could see monsters, afraid that he would laugh and make fun of you for such a stupid thing. you're surprised when he sits down with you and tells you all about curses and jujutsu sorcerers and the annoying man that had essentially adopted him to strengthen his abilities in the hopes that one day he could kill those monsters.

(you fall a little in love with him that day in the fifth grade when he tells you that you don't have to be afraid of the monsters bc he'll always be around to scare 'em off)

you remain attached at the hip all through middle school, learning everything about each other during study halls and late nights staying up on the phone together. you talk to him about your cursed technique, and he spends hours with you trying to better understand it's capabilities. neither one of you have any other friends, and if you thought enough about it you'd probably realize you're social rejects. but neither of you care. you had each other and you understood each other, and that was all that really mattered.

the summer before high school, megumi tells you that it was time for him to go to a different school, where he could learn more about curses and follow the path to being a proper sorcerer. you tell him you're happy for him, that you're proud of him, and you know he'll succeed in anything he puts his mind too. he's blushing. you're holding back tears.

you don't want him to go. you couldn't possibly ask him to stay.

and then one day, just before the school year started, a weird man in dark sunglasses and the whitest hair you've ever seen approaches you while you're waiting for your order to be called at your favorite cafe.

he tells you who he is, and that megumi had spent many, many hours talking about you and your abilities. he hands you a brochure, and tells you that he wants you to enroll at jujutsu tech. at first you refuse, you're too afraid of the monsters, and you came from a family of non-curse users. you'd never even told them about your abilities. gojo tells you that he'd already spoken to your parents, and he'd convinced them to let you go to a private school under the guise of your outstanding academic record.

with that, you couldn't really refuse.

megumi is ecstatic when gojo brings you to the school. gojo doesn't think he's ever seen him so happy, and he's surprised when he hugs you tightly, overcome with joy that he didn't have to be apart from his favorite person.

you're both blushing.

in the two weeks before school starts, you help each other unpack and decorate in your little dorms, which are just down the hall from each other. you admit to megumi that you're not sure if this was the right path for you, and he tells you that no matter any anxiety you might have about your new life, he'd be there to help every step of the way.

your heart skips a beat when you look up into his azure eyes, knowing that he meant every word he said. are you supposed to feel this warm and fluttery for your friends? you're not sure, but you enjoy the feeling of butterflies in your stomach, so you don't think too much about it.

you spend almost every waking minute together before school starts. it's the best time of your life. you don't think you've ever been happier. megumi feels the same. he doesn't think he's ever laughed so much in his life spending all this extra time with you that he didn't get as much when you were still growing up.

the night that he's sent to find the cursed object that was sukuna's finger, you had been practicing applying your cursed technique with a teacher back at the school. apparently the blonde man with the spotted tie was the only one patient enough to train with you from the afternoon to well into the evening.

you aren't aware of the events that transpired with one itadori yuji. you had far too much catching up to do. megumi briefly mentions another student joining our class, but he doesn't give away too much information. he'd rather hear about how far you're coming along with your technique, anyways.

a few days later, your mentor Nanami tells you there will be yet another student joining you, a young girl this time. you're excited at the prospect of making new friends.

megumi dreads it.

gojo had already mentioned you (more specifically, he'd said "just wait until you meet (y/n)! I'm sure megumi will be happy to introduce you to his girl!") to the three of them on the last assignment they'd taken together. yuji and nobara had squealed at the prospect of their grouchy classmate having a girl. megumi doesn't know how yet, but he knows he'll have to get gojo back for that one.

it's not until a few days after nobara has joined the team that you finally have some free time away from training, and you suggest to megumi that all four of you should have some bonding time.

"we're classmates. we bond enough" he'd replied gruffly, going back to the book he was reading. but you gave him your best puppy dog eyes and insisted that you must meet them.

"you think they won't like me?" you ask when he continues to shoot the idea down.

megumi huffs, finally dropping the book to his lap and staring blankly at you. you scooted closer to him on his bed.

"you're not embarrassed of me are you, megumi?" you tease, grinning ear to ear.

"course not" he muttered, turning away in hopes that you wouldn't see his blushing face.

you can still see the red tips of his ears, and that feeling of butterflies that you'd been experiencing lately returned. you tease him for his blushing. he gives in with a defeated sigh, throwing his head back against the wall as he agrees to a lunch with your new classmates.

you clap your hands, and lean forward to press your lips to his cheek without thinking. he thinks his heart might burst he could die right there. he gets up and leaves the room hastily under the excuse of finding nobara and yuji.

when the lunch finally rolls around, he contemplates pretending to be sick so he didn't have to go. he couldn't possibly handle yuji and nobara teasing him- which was bound to happen.

but you're so excited, you'd spent all morning with him trying to find the right thing to wear- despite megumi repeatedly telling you that anything was fine, and he was just going to wear his uniform.

"well that's different, you look good in your uniform. it makes me look boxy" you told him, before grabbing a different hanger and heading back into the bathroom to change for the hundredth time.

he feels hot suddenly at the compliment. you continued to fluster him, and it was starting to drive him crazy.

when you emerge in a new outfit, megumi swallows his fear (and maybe his pride too).

"that looks good," he tells you as you look over the outfit in your mirror. "you look, uh, pretty"

you grin, finding it adorable how much he struggled to compliment you. you decide this is the one, and beckon him to come with you to meet your new friends at the gate.

"they're loud," megumi warns. "and... annoying" he adds.

"I don't mind," you shrug, not thinking twice about his cautious words. "I think it'll be good for us to branch out a little"

megumi's hands are closed in tight, clammy fists at his sides.

"i guess" he mumbles. he's never felt so much anxiety in his life before.

(y/n) reaches a hand out to his, gently prodding open his fist and linking her fingers through his. he stops in his tracks, and she turns to look at him, puzzled.

"what's been bothering you?" she asks, worried.

megumi looks anywhere but at her face. all he can think about was how soft the palm of her hand is, and how it seemed to fit perfectly in his. his heart's racing. his mind is buzzing with thoughts of her. but even with her standing in front of him, he can't bring himself to look at her.

"it's stupid"

(y/n) shrugs her shoulders. "so?"

its a simple response, but it seems to do the trick to get herself catapulted over his high, high walls, because he gives in and fucking admits it already.

"they kinda know that i... like you," he says, eyes dropping to hers to watch her reaction closely. "like you like... more than friends like each other"

her mouth forms a little 'o' and her cheeks and quickly turning a rosy shade of pink. she processes the words carefully, before her lips break into a smile, and she squeezes the hand she's holding.

"megumi," she says warmly. "why does that bother you so much? you don't want them to know?"

he sputters out nonsense.

"well I didn't need them going and- and blabbing off to you! I wanted to be the one to tell you first"

(y/n) chuckles, and drags him along with her so they can continue their walk to the gates.

"I already knew," she shrugged casually.

megumi thinks he's going to die.

"but I appreciate you finally telling me," she adds. "and for what it's worth, I like you too"

he wants to cuss her out for making him so anxious over nothing, but he's so elated that he bites his tongue.

(for now, later that night he'll chew you out for not telling him sooner. you'll giggle and kiss his nose and tell him you like watching him squirm. he'll pull you against him and affectionately call you the devil)

and for what it's worth, megumi wasn't wrong. as soon as your new classmates see your joined hands and megumi's blushing face, it is open season. you want to make them calm down for your sweet, shy boy's sake, but you can't help but giggle along while they childishly, relentlessly tease him for having a soft spot.

the soft spot grows larger as he ducks his face into the collar of his shirt. his hand squeezes yours a little tighter.

silently, you tell him,

any anxiety you might have, I'll be here every step of the way. ___

got a lil carried away. i love megumi he makes me soft :')

[sgiandubh]

LOL... she was also unhappy with Sam's absence from that event in Germany and his presence at the Glasgow event. In fact, she is never satisfied with absolutely anything about him. A tremendous smell of despair and rejection... https://www.tumblr.com/maximumwobblerbanditdonut/747778111526092800/1-hour-is-the-average-flight-time-from-paris-to?source=share

"The evidence doesn't lie, people do." 🙄 🙄 🙄 Jesus...calm down, woman...

Dear Calm Down Anon,

To quote The Genius:

Read her lips, people: she's been thinking about it.

I am currently in my book-invaded room, with boxes all around me, Baby the Diplodog taking roughly 3/4 of my king-sized Provence bed. I am also thinking, but the thoughts I do think might be of a more trivial nature:

don't forget to phone Lola (and now Baby)'s vet for a meet & greet appointment

get new, Romanian plates for Zorba the Car

phone the MFA and send back Greek Diplo plates with the customs' clearance

phone the MFA to get back my gasoline, accommodation and luggage shipping expenses

phone Mr. Zhou, my Chinese acupuncturist. My neck is killing me.

manage to tuck in four luncheons in town, three let's get some drinks and another two drop by for a chat - until Sunday

To obsess about S's Hyrox Rigmarole I and Rigmarole II is a bit much, when you have things to do, in real life.

This is also very enlightening, I think:

This is the kind of vindicative crap I just hate to read. People who write this particular kind of vindicative crap (or who paint a filthy portrait of you, publicly, to their friends of friends, just to seem RIGHTEOUS) are probably the same kind of people who would have sent anonymous letters to the Gestapo, telling them those very nice neighbors across the street are hiding Jews in their attic.

In her case, the plea is just ridiculous. Like the planet would give a flying fuck about some amateur competition's stats. Sure thing, it's childishly disingenuous of S to do that (if he did it). But as far as I know, these are not the Olympic Games or something. And even if a Hyrox Glasgow zealot would blacklist S, I think he and the fandom would survive it.

That woman's life must be so empty, even the echo in her parlor took some days off.

[winterwump]

Suggestion: cheon taejin x kwak jihan head cannons (general) please! If u have time ❤

General Headcanons for Taejin & Jihan

Here you gooo!!! I’m so surprised that you came to me with a request, but thank you. I’m dangerously in love with Taejin, so to have someone request something with him in it was fun!! ENJOY🤩

❎Cheon Taejin❎

Like most people, Taejin has his set of guilty pleasures. One that immediately came to me is that he loves trash tv. I mean like the over-produced melodramatic dramas that come on in the dead of night. He LOVES that shit💀💀💀

Tbh, I can make a whole list of hygiene Headcanons for this man just cuz I know he smells good, but Imma keep it short🥴:

Taejin is a FIRM believer in the power that good grooming holds. He takes extra extra care of his hair, using high-quality (and prolly overpriced) products. And he always makes it to his regularly scheduled hair appointments to keep the color on point.

I’m pretty sure he’s a bottle blonde, but he's so proud of that so there’s no point in making jokes about it.

Buuuut if you really wanna get on his nerves, just pretend like you can see his roots. That would drive him up a wall😵

For someone who lives in South Korea, Taejin is not a huge fan of foods that have an ass load of garlic in them. He knows that his diet has an impact on his body odor so he has to limit his garlic intake.

Taejin runs hot (I mean just look at him🥵)

 like he’s just one big space heater so he prefers - no he NEEDS to sleep with a fan going. Like, that bitch is up high and there are fuckin gale force winds in the room and he’s KNOCKED OUT like *watch dis* 

He doesn’t look like it but, Taejin is a light-ass sleeper. If it's not humming from his fan, then it needs to either shut up or go to hell💀

✳️Kwak Jihan✳️

He’s never been to an amusement park EVER. He’s always wanted to go to one, but he either doesn't have time or he just forgets to go.

He’s been to one of those fall-time southern fairs so that’s close enough (lol)

Ya’ll, when I tell you that  Jihan is sick of people asking about his eyes - I mean he is SICK of it.

Like 2 or 3 questions about his eyes are manageable, but after the 3rd time, he’s ready to go like the convo gets cut short.

This man is so unaware of how jarring his accent and dialect are. Like, if it's ever brought up when he’s in Seoul, he’ll be so confused “II’m speaking so normally tho💀” (As a Southerner, this is my life)

Despite what his hair looks like, Jihan doesn’t actually style his hair much if not at all. He has a perfect Shake-N-Go growing from his scalp (Lucky bastard lolol)

Oh and the same thing with his eyebrows (Tbh, none of these men do their eyebrows prolly)

He’s a sucker for soup. Soup of all kinds, but meaty soups with light broths are what does him in for real. Example: Dak Gomtang 

I feel like even though he’s young, Jihan watches the news (and by extension all TV) like an old man. I mean this exact picture *dis* 

I think he gets it from Jibeom, who gets it from Jichang, who prolly got it from Bakgu. They all do it and none of them acknowledge it🤣

Oh and the weather channel is his favorite (cuz I said so lol)

Okayy I hope ya'll like this one. I feel as if I misinterpreted the request so take this for now, and I will rewrite this in a shipping context. BYE!!!

[rindragon-from-twewy]

Uh oh! Someone left me alone with my thoughts again! I don't see many people talking too deeply about pre-game stuff beyond "Number One was a terrible person" so I'm here to throw my own poorly explained hot take in to the ring-

I'm not really built for theory crafting and tend to miss or forget obvious details so consider this... an AU proposal more then anything. (Tbh I mostly just wanted to draw smol Yuma lmao-)

Spoiler warning ofc and enjoy this horrifically long and poorly explained ramble-

So... I don't really know much about the general fandom age headcannons on characters. I won't be going in to specifics right now about what I think all the character ages are cuz this isn't about that but for context, I pin Yuma around 15-16, on the early 18 side if you really wanna push it. Mainly cuz... it'd be kinda weird for Kurumi (a school student) to be one of his main love interests otherwise- For the sake of argument, I'll say 18.

So anyways-

Makoto's like... what? 3 or 4 years old? Forgive me for not re-watching chapter 5 just to get my timeline correct here but that's roughly right. Meaning that Number One would've been about 13 or 14 when he agreed to participate in the experiments at most. And sure, he's the smartest person in the world but anyone can be susceptible to lies or manipulations, especially someone that young.

But then of course we don't know how long Yuma had the Number One title for. Surely it would've had to have been at least a little while- I doubt the unified government would go after the blood of the newly appointed "smartest detective in the world" the second he got in to office. So who's to say exactly how much this literal child had been manipulated beforehand?

I'm imagining a sort of... Nagisa plus Kirigiri scenario (the danganronpa characters lol-) where they'd been set on a very specific academic path nearly their whole lives. Sure, Yuma probably had been born a genius and his strong moral code was most likely all his own but... no matter what way you spin it, there must have been some negligence to allow someone so young to become so cut off from the rest of society. It could've been intentional, it could've been accidental. Either way, why is someone like Yuma, who is obviously younger then most of his peers, who could easily pass as a trainee detective simply because of how smol he is, make it all the way to the top on his sheer intelligence alone?

This rambling's getting incoherent, sorry, it's late and I'm tired-

Makoto's pretty manipulative, sure, but he only got to the CEO position cuz of all the blackmail he had- Man had zero control over the city to the point he had to let outsiders get smuggled in just to help him fix it. Makoto (and by extension Number One) is book smart. Not street smart. They can build the rain machine, they can run multiple government conspiracies, etc etc. But if Number One was a kid at the time, it would've been pretty difficult for them to manipulate, mansplain, malewife his way in to office imo. A kid can't manipulate a dozens of adults in to being the leader of the whole WDO, no matter how naturally gifted they are. I mean it's no secret that the unified government and by extension the WDO are just as shady as Amaterasu so why wouldn't they take advantage of a young and impressionable kid when the opportunity arises?

We don't really know how Number One truly felt about anything. We know how Makoto views it, we know what Yuma thinks about it but we don't know if Number One really understood what the repercussions of the experiments could've been.

So let me just... break down what I'd interpret a vague timeline of events to be (in this hypothetical... Uh... AU I guess?)

- Yuma gets in to the WDO somehow. Very young, very impressionable. He may be really good at solving crimes but like any kid, he doesn't know anything that he isn't taught about. Being surrounded by mysteries and crimes, all while constantly being praised by adults as being "just soooo smart!" Is probably what taught him that he didn't need other people and so never learnt (or potentially was never even allowed to) make friends.

- Growing up surrounded by a combination of Yes-Men and people who let the obvious child labour/ exploitation slide because "This little genius is such a special case, we gotta let it slide this once!" Made it so he reached to the level of Number One far faster then anyone would expect. And that then came along with abandoning his old name and identity, isolating himself completely for his own protection. (I like to think he may not even remember his original name because he was so young at the time (for extra angst ^vO))

- And so a completely isolated pre-teen, who's entire life up until this point has entirely consisted of gory murder scenes and tragic crimes he was personally responsible for solving, was approached by the unified government. Who knows exactly how much detail they went in to with explaining their plan? Maybe they said that it probably wouldn't even work out, given all the past failures. Maybe they came begging for his help, like many people seeking justice would have done before them. Maybe they simply told him it was for the sake of peace? Maybe he was in his angsty emo phase and thought having a clone would be cool, who really knows? A pre-teen is a pree-teen, they all do dumb things- either way, he agreed.

- And so things played out like they said in the game, Makoto was created, escaped, saved the citizens of Kanai Ward via isolating them. He keeps them fed the only way he knows how - through the WDO; the only organisation he's ever been able to rely on (and thanks to his authority level, of course). Yuma starts getting suspicious while also simultaneously maturing enough to realise just how wrong everything about his life is, gets his new identity, makes the contract with Shinigami and heads off to start fixing his problems.

Additional Thoughts:

It's like that thing in the original beauty and the beast movie where everyone suddenly realised that the witch probably cursed a 9 year old for not letting a creepy stranger in to his home-

Maybe that's why he stuck with the name Yuma after everything. Cuz he didn't remember his original name to fall back on. He could've been Number One for as long as he could remember for all we know!

Maybe he was so busy trying to run the whole WDO that he didn't even pay much mind to the experiments? Could've just agreed to shut them up without knowing what he was getting in to. Makoto really drove it in to the mud how horrible of a person Number One was but how can we be sure that's an objective fact and not completely opinion driven?

I'm like actually really curious what other's perspectives on this could be. Again, I don't know much about the rain code fandom's age headcannons but it's pretty obvious to me at least that Yuma's on the younger end of the cast- (And by extension, Makoto too-)

Maybe I'll fact check myself when I have the time- either way, it's an interesting AU idea at the very least. I'll probably delete the writing portion of this post if it turns out I'm horrendously wrong-

Its probably gunna turn out that Yuma's in his mid 30s or 40s and suffers from baby face syndrome or something cringe fail like that lmfao-

So. Yeah. That's all just a theory (minus most of the fact checking) A GAME THEORY- Thanks for reading! :D

[merakiui]

thinking about scaramouche who, after being defeated by the traveler and nahida, never regains consciousness in teyvat and instead wakes in another world entirely (a world from one of yae publishing house's light novels LOL). at first it seems fine because surely, even if he's reborn, he can still claw his way to the top and attain unfathomable power, yes?

wrong. very wrong.

scaramouche finds that in this particular world he is a nobody peasant working as a measly servant for an all-powerful monarch (you). given his position as a harbinger, he rarely had time to entertain such foolish pastimes as reading silly light novels, so he has no idea what sort of plot this world follows and whether you're a kind-hearted monarch or a tyrant. he supposes he should lie low for now until he learns more about this place and the people in it.

if only it were that easy.

some of the servants are rather cruel to him, and because scaramouche has never truly had to serve others before (rather it was the other way around) he's unaccustomed to the fast-paced lifestyle of a servant. the others like to tease and bully him, making him seem inept by slyly tripping him in the halls when important figures are around or by conveniently forgetting to notify him of his duties for the day so he's left to wander the palace aimlessly. he's scolded nearly every day and he hates feeling beneath everyone. scaramouche is one more "harmless mistake" away from committing the worst atrocity in all of history when he realizes that, if he really wants power, he shouldn't wait around like a fool! he's lord scaramouche, after all! how dare they make a mighty figure such as he get on his hands and knees and scrub mud from the floor tiles?!

his plan is rather simple: if he can work his way up through the ranks of servants and earn your trust, he will have his chance at assassinating you and taking the throne for himself. all he needs to do is become your personal butler and then he'll have far more access to you than he does now. currently, he's only caught glimpses of you or listened in on conversations in which you were the subject. your staff speak so highly of you. perhaps this will be easier than he thought.

but then, on the night of your birthday gala, someone tries to kill you. scaramouche, infuriated that there's someone else who might try to steal his spot at everlasting glory and kingship, is quick to defend you. he's only thinking of his own selfish goals when he does this, but everyone else sees his potential. tonight, he's proven to everyone that he is highly adept in combat. your would-be assassin flees and scaramouche attempts to pursue them, only to lose sight of them as they blend into the inky vastness of the night. he's so frustrated. if he had his power and strength from his original world, that person would have been dead the moment they stepped into his line of sight. he's silently fuming as he stands on the balcony overlooking the forest and town beyond the palace, assessing his next move.

he doesn't get too far into his thoughts before a cheerful round of applause is thundering through the ballroom, and he whirls on his heel, stupefied. they're...cheering for him. for him. because he's saved your life. because he's proven not only loyalty but strength.

scaramouche goes from a nobody servant to a hero in the span of one evening and you, so touched by his quickness to protect, appoint him as a knight. tomorrow morning, bright and early, he'll begin honing his skills alongside the rest of the royal military. this may not have been part of his original plan, but it's a solid start. even if he doesn't become your personal butler, he can work towards becoming one of your few most trusted personal attendants. and now that he has access to weaponry with this newfound position (and has memorized the layout of the palace) he will be unstoppable in his pursuits!

if scaramouche had read the light novel, he would know that it's a romance between monarch and knight. but with his murderous scheme, it's going to quickly become a different genre...

[a-writer-on-elm-street]

Hi there! I don’t know if you write poly Sinclair or not but if you do could I get a poly Sinclair x reader (female or gender neutral is fine) where the reader gets really mad at someone for not understanding what they want despite how many times they explain and so the boys comfort her/them and calm them down?

I’m getting really frustrated with my counselor for basically ignoring what I’m saying to the point where I want to scream and cry and I just really need some x reader comfort right now lol, but no pressure of course! Sorry if this is over stepping anything! Have a lovely day/night!

pairing: poly!sinclair x gn!reader

summary: when you get back from a difficult counsellor appointment, the sinclairs try to offer you some comfort

warnings: minor injury detail, blood

a/n: this isn't overstepping at all, i'm happy to write this for you! thank you so much for requesting, sorry it took a while, and i hope you enjoy! <3

also, sorry to hear your counsellor's being so difficult, i know the feeling when people don't listen to you. if you ever need to talk, my dms are always open :)

word count: 905

You were so frustrated you felt like you were about to explode as you walked through the front door of the house, Bo lounging about on the couch, Vincent clearly elsewhere.

It didn't take Bo long to notice something was up, as he stood up from the couch, proceeding to follow you into the kitchen. "The hell's wrong with you?"

"Nothing." You muttered, getting a glass of water as Bo stood beside you, leaning against the counter.

You'd just come back from a counselling session, and they hadn't listened to a word you'd said. You might as well have been talking to a brick wall.

"Well I think we both know that's bullshit, sweetheart." Bo argued, watching you as you leaned over the sink. "So what's the matter with you?"

"It doesn't matter."

Before Bo could say anything else, the front door swung open, Lester walking in with Jonesy happily circling his feet.

He was covered in dirt and smelled like wet dog as he walked into the kitchen, heading straight for the fridge. He didn't even register you and Bo at first, as he sat down at the table with a bottle of orange juice, gulping it down like his life depended on it.

But once he finally acknowledged you both, he became mildly concerned by the agitated look on Bo's face. "You alright, (y/n)?"

"Fine." You answered, turning from the sink, only to crash into Vincent, the glass in your hand falling to the floor.

And that was the final straw, the thing to completely shatter the wall you had put up.

Tears burned your eyes as you bent down to start picking up the broken glass, and you wanted to scream, you wanted to yell at everyone in the room right now.

But all you could do was try desperately to hold back tears as you focused on picking up the glass.

Vincent was soon kneeling in front of you, attempting to help with the cleanup, but if you were being honest, you just wanted to be left alone right now.

All your frustration was bubbling up inside of you now, and you were worried you'd end up taking it out on the brothers, which would've been awful considering they'd done nothing wrong.

You picked up another piece of glass, adding it to the small pile you were creating in the palm of your hand, desperately trying to block everybody out as you did.

But the second Bo's hands came over yours, you were unable to keep yourself calm, turning and shoving him away from you, forgetting about the broken glass that was now enclosed in your fist.

You winced when you felt the glass pierce your skin, warm blood beginning to run across the palm of your hand.

Bo immediately spotted the blood seeping through your fingers, urging you to drop the glass as you opened your hand.

You practically stayed there in silence as Bo helped you up off the floor, instructing Vincent to go and get the first aid kit, telling Lester to clean up the mess.

"And make sure you keep the damn dog away from it. We don't want no more injuries around here." He'd added, as he guided you into the living room, sitting you down on the couch and kneeling in front of you, his hands still cradling your injured one.

"You gonna tell me what's wrong?" He finally asked you, concern in his eyes as he looked up at you.

Silent tears were staining your cheeks as you looked at him, all the pent up emotion finally spilling out of you.

You eventually offered him a brief explanation, to which he was surprisingly understanding.

"Alright, well let's take care of that hand and we can all relax, okay?" He told you.

You gave him a quiet nod, just as Vincent returned with the first aid kit.

He quickly looked you over, his rough hands carefully wrapped around your own as he inspected the injury. And he concluded that it wasn't serious, deciding to simply clean it up and wrap it.

Once he was finished, Bo joined you on the couch, Vincent coming to sit on the other side of you. And you were even more shocked when Bo handed you the remote, considering he never let anybody touch the remote.

A few moments passed and Lester finally arrived in the living room, carrying a slightly stained mug in his hands.

"Thought I'd make you some herbal tea." He smiled, handing you the cup. "Heard it's good for stress and stuff."

You offered him a small smile, before taking a sip of the tea. And it took everything in you not to visibly cringe from the taste. It was fucking digusting, but you still appreciated the gesture.

Lester then joined you all on the couch, his eyes never leaving you as he watched you sipping the tea.

To be completely honest, Bo and Vincent couldn't stop their gaze from wandering to you either. They all just wanted to make sure that you were okay. You meant so much to them, and despite their callous lifestyle, they couldn't bear to see you hurting.

But as you sat with them in front of the TV, a cheesy romance movie playing on the screen, you found that you were at peace. Being here, with your boys, you were home. And you wouldn't want it any other way.

[Main Masterlist]

[sassyfrassboss]

Harry really wants us to believe that in the 15 minutes that he met with his dad - while his dad was on his way out the door and already getting late - he, Harry, managed to squeeze in the mandatory pleasantries, put forward his demands to be back in the royal fold, propose a basic outline of the pr plan and media strategy, assure his father it would work, coordinated media sound bytes nofor the next 3 weeks, made assurances that he and his missus would behave and not spill secrets at Invictus, also included inquiries about his father's health and diagnosis and managed to secure a firm affirmative for this royal return plan.

Harry, alone, did all of that on his own in 15 mins while he was jetlagged, coming straight from the airport? All that without a shouting match? All that one-on-one with Charles with no one present in the room? And actually succeeded with his mission of secure a temporary royal role for himself? In just 15 mins? Even though he hadn't had a direct face to face conversation with him in over a year? Ha ha ha ... Ya I don't believe it at all.

At the most (giving him the benefit of doubt) he probably Sai, "Pa, you were sick, so I think I'd come back."

Charles said something like "Sure, my boy. Anytime". The same way my dad would "sure" when I used to asked him if we could go to Disneyland in the summer break. That never happened but he always said "sure", and I'd then tell all friends we were going to Disneyland for the summer. This happened right up to highschool too lol.

We finally went 2 years back. As a cheer up present for me because I was getting divorced. I was 32 lol.

HAHA! Congrats!?

My go to is "We'll see..."

As to Harry and Charles. I guess what I want to know is when did these "warm conversations" happen.

In my experience "warm conversations" revolve around pleasantries and happy on-goings in life, not "Pa I want back in because you're sick and I this is how it's gonna go."

There may have been some phone calls in the past couple of weeks where Harry asks how Charles is but also, and people forget this, Charles doesn't have a cell phone. Reaching him requires contacting his staff and making an appointment. It's not as easy as you and I just picking up the phone and calling our parents.

Years ago when my dad announced he had cancer, I immediately asked how bad it was and if it was curable. When he explained that his local/rural doctor gave him six months I gave my dad a hug, walked out the door, went to the store and bought a few bottle of wine, chocolate and Kleenex. Drove back to my house where my dad, mom, husband (at the time), brother and brother's gf were...poured myself a glass of wine and starting talking game plans. A couple days later dad had appointments at one of the most, if not THE most, prestigious cancer research hospitals in the world, located in the city I was living. He is still with us and that was 12 years ago.

But when you find out that type of information that is how you react. You start talking treatments, appointments, logistics, overall outlook, etc. Only a true narcissist would use this as an opportunity to force his way back into a role he abandoned.

[houseofbrat]

And in this week's edition of

On Wednesday, 02 October 2024, William did his first investiture since his last one on 04 June 2024.

Later in the day, those who were celebrating their honours had whatever minimal spotlight they get taken away when Kensington Palace released photos of Kate hugging an actual & verified cancer patient.

Kate released her end-of-"chemotherapy" video on 09 September, and only three-plus weeks later did she finally & publicly acknowledge the existence of other people's cancer via this photo op with Liz.

It's a photo op because Kate is not going to be able to count this as a work engagement in the court circular, according to Hannah Furness in The Telegraph.

Yes, it's a great story for Liz and her family, but why couldn't Kensington Palace just release the photo of Liz's family the day after the investiture? Just so those receiving their awards could enjoy their brief moment of sunshine?

I guess the KP comms team could not have waited a day because William had to spit out this bonmot the following day, when he did an engagement with actual Olympians.

But William responded: "No I was so keen to come but I have to say after reading someone’s interview about Covid [looking at Adam Peaty - who tested positive during the games] I decided, because my wife was obviously having chemo, that I didn’t want to risk bringing Covid home, so Adam very kindly reminded me that that was still a thing! But we watched the whole thing. We were glued to it every day."

Kate "was obviously having chemo," guys! That's why they couldn't attend the Olympics in Paris!

But Kate could go and sit at Wimbledon for multiple hours in the sun and hug Wimby athletes, who could be transmitters of viruses.

But Kate didn't need to separate herself from her school-age children, who are well-known germ carriers just like all other young children. No reports of that. Ever!

But also William doesn't do "work" appearances when his kids are out of school. It's not like William, who was president of the FA last year (2023), when the women's World Cup was in Australia could take the time to either a) travel to Australia for it or b) attend a public watch party to show his support. He doesn't want to cut into his copious vacation time by showing real-time support for UK athletes.

But, hey, good on William for staying on the pr message that Kate did chemo because she had CANCER! Just one day after Will & Kate's photo op with Liz's family.

But then there was the cherry on top of these pr shenanigans released by Tom Sykes of The Daily Beast yesterday. Within this article, which is kind of/sort of about assumptions regarding Charles's health, there is a lot of reframing of recent decisions by Will & Kate from the past 18 months.

William also sprang into action. Just days after the news was made public he appointed a new private secretary, Ian Patrick, an experienced former diplomat who had worked for the Foreign Office for eight years. The implication was clear: William would be stepping up to a bigger, more global role. William’s plans, however, were then brutally knocked aside by his own wife’s cancer diagnosis which forced him to retreat from public life, and international travel, for several months.

LOL!! Nice try whitewashing that hiring, Tom!

Ian Patrick was hired because Jean-Christophe Grey quit or gave notice he was resigning in September 2023, and William had to find someone else to replace him.

After all, no one picked up that CEO job that Kensington Palace put out at the same time JCG said he was leaving! Was the CEO posting even real, given how the search was "suspended" eight months later? After another private secretary was in place? Did William ever truly want a CEO? Or was this just a face-saving cover because Jean-Christophe suddenly said he was done?

And hey, let's not forget that Will & Kate haven't done a tour since 2022! They made it known after Charles's coronation in May 2023 that they weren't going to do another tour until 2024. William isn't going to do a tour solo. When will this "more global role" be happening? 2025? 2026? 2027?

Now, of course, with Kate’s recovery, William is back and has a much higher profile than his father, who has spent the last few weeks gathering and conserving his strength for the Australia tour.

William barely works and is scheduled to go on VACATION for two weeks on 18 October. And then William is going to do "work" for six more weeks until he can go on vacation for another 3.5 weeks.

William will resume long haul international travel when he travels to South Africa in early November for the Earthshot Awards. It promises to be a high-profile affair.

Is William actually going to South Africa? Is this a confirmation, Tom? Or is this statement just an assumption by you?

The king’s other brother, Prince Edward and Edward’s wife, Sophie, Duchess of Edinburgh, who are neither great friends nor enemies with Charles, have successfully won the trust and affection of William and Kate and they are likely to be rewarded with a promotion when William’s reign begins.

Convenient, Tom, how you don't mention that Sophie wore a new (to her) tiara in June. Or that Sophie will likely get The Order of the Garter next year, either on her birthday in January or in the honour's list. What are you going to do, Tom, if Sophie wears another new tiara by the end of the year? Are you still going to play this game of Ed & Sophie just being neutral ("neither great friends nor enemies") to Charles?

This whole article is pure, adulterated spin on The Wales family pr blunders for the year. All the moves have happened because they had a grand plan. No mention of THAT MOTHER'S DAY PHOTO or other pr disasters from the spring. No, it's all going to a grand plan.

Executive power and influence is already flowing William’s way. Anyone who doubts that only has to look at the glossy Instagram video William and Kate published last month to announce her recovery from cancer. It wasn’t signed off by the king, and featured not Charles, but Kate’s parents, Mike and Carole.

William is walking around looking like shit terrible. So terrible that KP already gave quotes to InTouch Weekly to spin his gaunt & haggard frame. There's a stark difference in how he looks today versus how he looked when he filmed interviews for his Homewards documentary just a few months ago.

Kate can only tweet or do photo ops that aren't going to count as work in the court circular. Her future schedule is blank except for Remembrance Sunday and her Christmas carol concert.

Totally examples of "executive power and influence."

LOL!!

Is David Beckham going to hold William's hand at other future engagements this fall? Sophie has her own work to do. She can't babysit William on a regular basis. She just picked up a new patronage.

A patronage that would have been right up Kate's alley, if Kate was still going to "work" in the future.

Perhaps we should be asking if parliament needs to rectify that Kate's marriage should be morganatic in the future, if she's not ever going to do regular royal duties again.

[vodika-vibes]

"I'm going to beat you so bad that you're going to wish I was 17."

LOOOOL WOLFFE YOU JUST SIGNED YOUR OWN DEATH WARRANT 🤣

And I don’t think Fox will be forgetting about that Shiny anytime soon either . . .

Lol, poor Wolffe, luckily he can handle it. The Shiny, however, cannot.

Also, tumblr was being dumb about this post and I don't know why.

This is getting ridiculous, you decide as you rearrange the Chancellor's schedule to make room for his Physical, and flat out cancel his meeting with Anakin. It has been weeks, weeks, since you've been able to be alone with Fox.

You tap your foot on the carpeted floor, and glower at the schedule. Everytime you try, that new guy keeps redirecting you to Thorn, or Thire, or Stone and it's getting to the point where you're going to beat the Shiny to death with your datapad if he doesn't stop.

"My dear," Your gaze snaps to the Chancellor, "It appears that my meeting with Anakin has been canceled."

"He had a Jedi thing he needed to do. Something with the kid he's trying to raise." You reply honestly, for once. "So that gives you an hour of free time this afternoon, if you wish to duck out early."

"I might just." He muses, "Thank you, my dear." He pauses and looks you over, "You seem stressed, young one, why don't you take the rest of the day off."

You glance at the schedule, all the Chancellor has left for the day is a series of appointments with doctors, so you nod. "I think that might be a good idea. Thank you sir." With that decision made, you power down your datapad, and you head towards the elevator.

You hit the button that takes you to the lowest levels, and you make a beeline for Fox's office. Only to get intercepted by that one, damned, shiny.

"Welcome back!" He says cheerfully, "Commander Thorn is available if you need to speak with someone."

"I need to talk to the Marshal Commander." You reply.

"I'm afraid Commander Fox is busy." The Shiny replies brightly as he tries to herd you towards Thorn.

"Is he in a meeting?"

"No ma'am,"

Your smile twitches slightly, "On a call?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

"Then he can make time for me." You say flatly, as you turn to head towards Fox's office. You're stopped when a firm hand wraps around your wrist.

Your gaze drops to the hand wrapped tightly around your wrist, and then you look up at him, genuine surprise on your face. "The Marshal Commander has better things to do than talk to silly little girls."

The Bullpen is totally silent for a moment, and you see Thorn and Thire heading your way, while Stone hurries into Fox's office. And you smile nicely.

"CT-9735, correct?" You power your datapad back on, and switch to a different page, "How would you like to be reassigned? Let's see, the 104th and the 91st need people-"

"You don't have the authority to do that." His grip tightens around your wrist, and you don't wince from sheer force of will.

And then another hand wraps firmly around the Shiny's wrist, "Let them go." Fox's voice is very low and very, very angry.

"She seems to think that she can reassign me-"

"They speak with all of the authority of the Supreme Chancellor. If they want to reassign you, they more than have the authority to do so." Fox interrupts, and you're finally released, "What's more, at this point I'm considering reassigning you myself."

"Commander-"

"Personal Assistant Yuu has free reign to enter my office whenever they desire." Fox says flatly, "And if you have a problem with that-"

"She's a vain, shallow girl! She has no business bothering you-"

"There is nothing vain or shallow about them." Fox bites out.

"Sir, you don't know her-"

For a moment, you worry that Fox is going to just shoot him, but then his expression clears. He turns to you, a small little grin playing on his lips.

Stars, he's so handsome, you love him so much-

And then your train of though cuts off as he crashes his lips against yours, immediately setting one hand on your hip while the other lightly caresses the back of your neck.

You stand on your toes, your arms sliding around his neck as he lightly nips your lower lip, and you whine softly.

And when Fox breaks the kiss, you let out a groan of disappointment, but he just chuckles and presses his forehead against yours. "It's about time," You breathe out.

Fox grins at you, "I'm going back to my office. I'm taking them with me. The next person who tries to bother me is getting shot. Am I clear?"

Thorn has a wide grin on his face, "Crystal clear, sir! Have fun."