#Daily baby care essentials

[alqaisi-group]

Huggies Simply Clean Fragrance-Free Baby Wipes – Gentle Care for Sensitive Skin, 11 Convenient Flip-Top Packs (704 Wipes)

Experience the gentle, fragrance-free clean that your baby deserves with Huggies Simply Clean Baby Wipes. Perfect for sensitive skin, these wipes come in easy-to-use flip-top packs, providing convenient, long-lasting care for your little one.

Get It Now !!

[transmutationisms]

TIME SENSITIVE! 

HELP SAMAH TAKE CARE OF HER 6 MONTH OLD BABY

Hey everyone i want to draw your attention to @samah-h, a young palestinian mother who wants to raise funds to take care of her family, including her baby who is only 6 months old.

you might have seen Samah's story around, but recently she has had to create a new GFM campaign. so, please make sure to support her now, and donate at the new link below.

Born amidst the bombing and destruction, Samah's infant son does not have access to infant formula, diapers, and basic healthcare. As these products grow more and more scarce due to the israeli blockade, market prices for them have been soaring at alarming levels. Living in tents under the constant threat of eviction due to war and disease, the situation is dire. They need these funds as soon as possible.

Right now samah is looking to raise the first $5k so that she and her family can cover:

the high cost of living and basic survival needs in gaza 

Travel coordination and securing safe evacuation 

Essential healthcare for the baby 

Infant formula and diapers

 Warm clothes and supplies to protect him from the cold

In her own words: “Living in tents is exhausting and filled with daily challenges; we have no clean water, electricity, or proper medical care. Every day we struggle to survive amidst constant bombings and the dangers surrounding us. Your support gives us hope that we can provide a better life for our child.”

This gfm was vetted by @bilal-salah0 so please dont hesitate to lend a hand. Please share and donate any amount you can, this family needs to raise this amount ASAP so that their baby can be taken care of the way he needs.

$10 / $5,000

[savespot]

Hello Everyone!!

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[samah-h]

We have reached our first goal thanks to your support!❤️

Thanks to your generosity and solidarity, we have successfully reached our first goal of raising €1,400 to secure passports. This is a significant step for our family, and we are deeply grateful to everyone who contributed and supported us in this crucial phase. Words cannot express how much your support means to us during these difficult times. 🙏❤️

However, our journey is far from over. We now move to our second goal, which focuses on securing travel coordination and providing for the basic needs of our 6-month-old baby. Born amidst the bombing and destruction, our baby is currently suffering from a lack of infant formula, diapers, and basic healthcare. Living in tents with scarce resources and the spread of diseases, the situation is dire.

With the high cost of living in Gaza, securing these basic needs, in addition to coordinating travel, has become extremely challenging. The expenses associated with transportation and evacuation are overwhelming, and we need your continued support to help ensure our baby can escape these devastating conditions.

Our second goal is to raise €5,000 to cover :

Travel coordination and securing safe evacuation

Infant formula and diapers

Essential healthcare for our baby

Warm clothes and supplies to protect him from the cold

Covering the high cost of living and basic survival needs

Living in tents is exhausting and filled with daily challenges; we have no clean water, electricity, or proper medical care. Every day we struggle to survive amidst constant bombings and the dangers surrounding us. Your support gives us hope that we can provide a better life for our child.

VETTED BY @bilal-salah0

1605€ / 6400€

Please, share our campaign or donate whatever you can; every contribution makes a huge difference.

[jawadalzenati]

🇵🇸Urgent Appeal for Help

Meet Jawad: A father, husband, and son, struggling to protect his family amidst the ongoing war in Gaza that has lasted for over a year.

Jawad lives with his parents, siblings, wife, and baby girl, Malak. After losing his job and seeing their lives shattered, he’s fighting daily to meet their basic needs and provide medical care for his wife and 5-month-old daughter.

What They Need: Funds raised will cover travel expenses and essential living costs for his family of seven.

Every Contribution Counts: No amount is too small. Your support is crucial for their safety and a fresh start.

How You Can Help:

1. Donate to make a difference.

2. Share this campaign to spread the word and help us reach our goal.

Jawad is deeply grateful for any support you can offer. Together, we can help them find hope in this dark time.

✅️Vetted by @gazavetters ,

my number verified on the list is ( #238 )✅️

@xinakwans @xinakwans @xinakwans @xinakwans @xinakwans @xinakwans

@ibtisams @t-800 @roadimusprime @salam-and-sadaqah @socialjusticeforall @c-u-c-koo-4-40k @gazavb-blog @90-ghost @northgazaupdates2 @fundraiser @fundraise-blog @palestine-gofundraisers @remindertoclick @sn0wcake @tamamita @thedigitalbard @dlxxv-vetted-donations @anneemay @orchidvioletindigo @lesbianmaxevans @winolas-boosts @roadimusprime @vampiricvenus @tamamita @butchfeygela @xinakwans @certifiedsexed @orchidvioletindigo @palhelp @tamamita

[yahya-abu-zour]

Hello my friends...

🚨🚨🚨🚨🚨

Iam YehiaAbu Zor 33 years old ,my wife is pregnant and iam father of 3 childrens.

My story begin at 21 Oct when isrealian defense forces destroy my house and excude my dreams of living as all humans.

I spend 9 months in hills "north of Gaza strip "

and the attacks by IDF never been stopped even one day, our lives become unbelievable .

There's no food to eat, no clean water,no house and no safe place to escape from war, hospitals and schools are destroyed .

My children live in dangerous environment, they suffered from panic attacks for several times and from gastrointestinal and respiratory diseases due to pollution result from waste, garbage and poor sanitation.

Please help me to buy new home

and evacuate my family to safe place that provides safety and security.

"small donations can make big💔🙏

difference "

👇

In a war-torn village, a baby was born under harsh conditions. He had no healthcare and insufficient food to satisfy his hunger. His mother tried her best to provide for him, but the war had taken everything from them.At night, they slept on the cold ground in a makeshift shelter, with no blankets to keep them warm. The baby's constant crying reflected the pain of hunger and fear. Without medicine or enough food, the future seemed bleak.Yet despite all the suffering, the mother continued to fight, believing that hope would come someday, and that the war would end, bringing peace and a better life for her little one.

This child is in Gaza, and he is crying because there is no food, milk, or diapers for him. His parents are asking for help from everyone to provide these essential supplies for the child. I don’t have money, and the child’s father is also struggling. We need donations to help provide for our baby.

We need your help to support our family and provide the basics of a decent life. Every donation, no matter how small, will make a big difference in our lives.😭🇵🇸🙏💔

A child is suffering from severe rashes and infections in sensitive areas of his body due to the use of unsuitable cloth diapers. His condition is getting worse, and his family is desperately seeking treatment for his skin and relief for the sensitive areas affected. They are in urgent need of help to provide the necessary care and medications for their baby. They are pleading for assistance to help give their child the relief and comfort he desperately needs.💔

We are struggling to find clean water, and the available water does not meet safety standards. With no access to clean water in our homes, we are facing a serious crisis. We are making an urgent plea for help, as the lack of water is putting our lives and health at risk.💔🙏

We are forced to cook our🇵🇸 food over firewood, and as a result, the food is often unhealthy and harmful. The lack of proper cooking resources is making it difficult to provide safe and nutritious meals, putting our health at risk.😭

Our home was destroyed by the Israeli occupation, and we no longer have a safe place to live. We are left without shelter or access to proper healthcare, struggling to find safety and basic care for our family.💔

🚨🚨🚨

We are a simple family from Gaza, and we have suffered greatly from the difficult circumstances we live in here. The difficult economic conditions and the unstable security situation have made daily life very difficult. We need your help to support our family and provide the basics of a decent life. Every donation, no matter how small, will make a big difference in our lives. Thank you for your generosity and solidarity. Our prayers for peace and well-being for you and your families.

Vetted by @gazavetters my number verified on the list is ( #30 )

@irhabiya @commissions4aid-international @wellwaterhysteria @junglejim4322 @kibumkimxap @kibumkimxap @kibumkims @neechees @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @heritageposts @heritagepostsbot @heritagepostswithjax @toiletpotato @fromjannah @omegaversereloaded @vague-humanoidot @evillesbianvillainarchive @ot3-old @ot3-old @ot3showdown @ot3showdown @ot3showdown @amygdalae @amygdalaemotions @amygdalaenigma @amygdalaedamage-blog @amygdalaexploration-blog @ankle-beez @ankle @anklebanger @anklesdown @anklexbiters @anklexbiters @dykesbat @stuckinaprill @stuckinaprill @violentrevolution-blog @mar64ds @lacecap @lacecappedhydrangeas @watermotif @socalgal @socalgal69 @socalgall @socalgal9900-blog @socalgal76-blog

[luveline]

i think it would be adorable seeing a conversation of spencer freaking out about pregnant!bombshell and hotch just calmly telling him all about different ways to help and them talking about new dad fears :((

pregnant!reader, 1k (sorry it was more about the pregnant part than the new dad fears!)

Hotch doesn’t know what Spencer’s going to say when he knocks, but he ushers him inside his office regardless. He has the appearance of someone with grief to share; Hotch immediately starts to think of the people he and Spencer have in common. 

“I need your advice,” Spencer says desperately. 

Hotch puts his pen in its holder. “Of course.” 

“She won’t sit down.” 

Hotch lets himself relax. “Ah.” 

“She’s acting like she isn’t pregnant at all. I want her to be happy, but she keeps running up the stairs. What if she falls?” 

“Y/N has very likely thought of that possibility already.” 

“Then why doesn’t she stop?” 

Hotch chews his cheek for a moment. “Spencer, sit down.” 

The chair squeaks as Spencer sits, scrubbing at his face roughly. 

Hotch has watched Spencer grow up, in a way, moving from twenty three to thirty quick as blinking, and he’s watched him fall in love with you, and now he gets to watch Spencer have daily conniptions over your apparent lack of self-preservation. He’s enjoyed it, genuinely, and he doesn’t mind offering some wisdom now as a partner who’s made enough mistakes to know better. 

“Spencer, you can’t make her sit down if she doesn’t want to. And she’s four months pregnant. Pretty soon, she’ll have no choice but to sit down. It’s best if you let her stay active as long as she can, so she stays as healthy as she can.” He leans back in his chair. The smirk is unbidden, but he can’t help it. “But you know this.” 

“Her ligaments are weakening, because of the baby. The pregnancy. It’s about to get much more painful for her,” Spencer says. 

“So?” Hotch prods gently. 

Spencer nods. Glances out the window down into the bullpen, before dragging his chair closer to the desk. “Hotch, it’s like she’s two different people. Or three. There’s the crying one, and the happy one, and the…” 

“The hates you one?” he offers. 

“Yes. Which is luckily quite rare, but terrifying.” 

“Just hormones, Spence.” 

Spencer breathes out. Hotch can’t help the immeasurable wave of fondness he’s feeling for his colleague. He genuinely wants to round the desk and pat Spencer on the back. This is all a learning curve, a way of life. Partners have been wrestling with their scary pregnant wives for long before he and Spencer came around. 

“The happy one is worth it, though,” Hotch guesses. He had some lovely days with Hayley. 

“You know what she’s like,” Spencer says.

Hotch can imagine. Before your pregnancy, you adored Spencer. You’ve doted on him since you met him, and if the glimpses Hotch has seen of you these last few months are any indication, you are immovably in love. Yesterday, you brushed the sesame seeds off of Spencer’s sandwich one by one because he doesn’t like them. The day before, you’d pushed your chair next to his and drawn circles into his arm the entire workday (while, impressively, still managing to finish your assigned consults). 

“There’s a common theme, I think, when she’s angry. She’s usually uncomfortable. I’ve started to go through a checklist,” Spencer says. He sounds guilty. 

“I think it’s a good idea. I noticed you’ve been keeping candy in your bag.” Hotch laughs. Spencer joins in. 

“Just the essentials.” 

Hotch doesn’t doubt that you’re on every prenatal vitamin you could ever need, that Spencer has researched pregnancy from the latest journals to the very rarest myths. He has no doubt that you’re well taken care of. You’re going to be fine. Spencer has no need to worry about you. Hotch might have cause to worry about Spencer, though. 

“Reid, I’ll tell you a secret. It might not work for you, but it worked for me.” 

Spencer holds his hands together. “What is it?” 

“The next time you want her to slow down,” —Hotch lays it out carefully, without judgement for you or any private teasing, just genuine care for the both of you— “you can distract her with the baby.” 

“I’ve tried that,” Spencer says. “She tells me I’m worrying.” 

“Not about the baby’s health. If she thinks everything is alright, it likely is. I mean about the future.” Spencer doesn’t seem to understand. Hotch searches for an example. “Baby shoes, clothes. I once calmed Hayley down from an hours-long meltdown by telling her I thought Jack would have her eyes.” 

“That works?” 

“It’s probably much nicer for her to have you encouraging positive thoughts than negative,” he says gently. 

“I guess I worry too much.” 

“Not too much, Reid. I’m just telling you what worked for me. When it’s over, you’ll miss it. A few years later.” 

They smile. Hotch watches with a distinct fatherly pride as Spencer retreats down into the bullpen where you stand talking animatedly to Anderson. You’ve been on your feet all day, in kitten heels no less, and you look tired but not unhappy. 

Spencer joins you for a while. You show no signs of moving. Hotch figures he’ll give Spencer time to act on his advice and goes back to his paperwork, losing track of time, ignoring the beep of his watch that signals lunch time. 

He finishes his paperwork a little while after. 

“I wonder what she'll have,” he hears Spencer saying. 

“She’ll have my hands,” you insist suddenly, your voice floating up the steps. You’ve always had one of those tones that attracts attention, even when you aren’t shouting. “Don’t girls often get their mom’s hands? And their dad’s noses?” 

He’s expecting Spencer to cite an article on genetic lottery, but he doesn’t. He sounds the polar opposite of how he’d panicked in Hotch’s office. “I think so. I got my mom’s hands, too. She had short nail beds.” A pause. Hotch glances out the window to find you sitting in Spencer’s chair, a sandwich laid out in two halves on a napkin, a tray of vegetable batons in your hands where they rest on your bump. “I hope she has your everything.” 

You lift your chin. Spencer taps your noses together. 

“Can I get you a drink?” he asks hopefully. 

“Yes, please. Anything you’re having.” 

Hotch isn’t smug, exactly, but he is admittedly very pleased at the outcome of his advice. 

[littlelamy]

hii id like to request reader is know as the “purse lady” around town because she always has such nice purses but it drives rafe crazy because the purses are taking over the closet

hope you like it! ⭐️ everywhere you go, people comment on your purses. the vintage leather satchel you picked up at a farmers' market, the sleek designer tote you waited months to snag, each one is a piece of your identity around town. you’re “the purse lady,” and you wear the title proudly.

everyone in town loves it. everyone, it seems, except for rafe, who’s starting to regard your closet with a look somewhere between dread and defeat.

it didn’t bother him at first. one purse turned to five, five became ten, and soon they seemed to multiply overnight. he’d open a drawer expecting socks and pull out a sequin clutch. shelves once reserved for his shirts were now home to crossbodies and totes in every color he couldn’t name. it got to the point that he wasn’t entirely sure where his things were anymore.

“uh, hey, baby,” he says one night, in that careful tone he uses when he’s pretty sure he’s losing the battle, “do you think maybe…we could, y’know, thin the purse collection just a little?”

you glance up, already deciding you’ll ignore this conversation. “why would i do that?” you say, your voice light but not remotely budging. “they all have a purpose. you know that.”

he stifles a sigh. there it is—that classic, endearing excuse. you say it like every single purse is a tool for survival, an essential part of daily life. and he gets it, kind of. most of them hold stories he can see you’re not ready to let go of—trips you’ve taken, places you love, even a few gifts from people he’s never met. but now his once half-empty closet is practically spilling.

“i’m just saying,” he tries again, with a softer look, “that closet space is getting a little… tight.”

you laugh, patting his cheek with that sweet, dismissive touch. “you have plenty of room, rafe. you wear, what, the same five shirts? trust me, we’re fine.”

the way you brush him off makes him laugh even as he sighs, but he knows the struggle won’t end. one night, he catches himself staring at each one—a metallic hobo bag, a leather satchel, a chain-link crossbody. he’d even memorized the rotation by now, making sure every one of them makes it back to its designated spot when you switch things up.

and then, as he studies a purple suede clutch that’s recently claimed space near his shoes, something shifts. he realizes, maybe for the first time, that these bags aren’t just things—they’re a part of you, as real as your laugh, as familiar as your favorite coffee cup. they’re tokens of a life he’s glad to be part of, each one a marker of a memory he’s happy to share.

he decides that night to stop counting, to stop wishing for more space. he’ll let them take over, and the next time he stumbles on one of your totes, he’ll remind himself it’s a small price to pay to be in the orbit of your beautiful, chaotic world.

besides, he thinks, there are worse things than being the boyfriend of some obsessed with purses

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01

[communistkenobi]

Hi everyone. As we all know things continue to get worse in Gaza, and Mohammed and his family desperately need funds. You’ve all been really helpful in raising funds for this campaign so far and I thank everyone who has spread these posts and donated. (verified, entry 174, row 178)

They have had to recently increase the funding target to €90k - these funds are paying for essential items like children’s diapers and food, which have skyrocketed in price and fluctuate daily. The price of a single pack of diapers is €50 ($53 USD) right now, and baby milk, as well as food staples such as rice and flour, are similarly expensive. While this graphic shows some of the cost inflation, price surges continue to worsen. A worm-infested bag of flour currently costs $100 USD.

They are still planning to evacuate as soon as that becomes possible and need to save up money for crossing the border, as well as for paying additional fees/taxes, which are absurdly high and taking advantage of Palestinians’ desperation to charge extortion rates while they attempt to flee and purchase basic necessities.

I know there are a lot of campaigns and donation posts going around right now. Mohammed and his wife have four young children and are taking care of them as best they can. You can read more about their family here:

I have been speaking with Mohammed every day. He is extremely kind. Please share his campaign and donate what you can.

[haytham-awad]

Hello, my name is Haytham Awad, a communication engineer living in Gaza. Before the war, I had a life of stability and safety, working at a communication and internet company. However, since the aggression against Gaza began after October 7, our lives have been turned upside down. We have lost our jobs, our sources of income, and our sense of security

In response to this crisis, a group of dedicated volunteers and I have come together to support the displaced people of Gaza. We have been tirelessly delivering food parcels and meals, providing clean drinking water, and distributing essential health packages. We supply vegetable baskets, offer primary care for children, and hold joyful sessions to bring a smile to their faces. Additionally, we distribute nappies and milk for babies, provide food to shelter centers, and install toilets too. Many have fled, their homes, with only the clothes on their backs, so we also provide clothing and, in special cases, cash assistance for those who have completely lost everything. We also focus on addressing the basic health needs of displaced women and children, but we cannot do this alone. We depend entirely on the generosity of donors like you

Your contribution, no matter how small, is urgently needed and deeply appreciated. It will bring relief to those who have lost their homes and are struggling to meet their basic daily needs. Your donation will provide food, shelter, and essential supplies to people living in extremely harsh conditions.

By donating, you become a vital part of their stories of hope and resilience. Your generosity will make a tangible difference, bringing light and comfort to those in desperate need.

Thank you for your kindness and support. I will keep you updated with images and videos, showing the profound impact your donations have on the people here, in Gaza.

With heartfelt gratitude,

Haytham Awad.

@killy @heritageposts @turtletoria @valtsv @annabelle--cane @anneemay @tamamita @taffybuns @tamarrx @prinnay @prisonhannibal @pcktknife @schooloutfitideas @officialspec2 @t-800 @4ft10tvlandfangirl @heritageposts @pcktknife @ot3 @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @effen-draws @aria-ashryver @paper-mario-wiki @valtsv @ankle-beez @jezior0 @komsomolka @appsa @imjustheretotrytohelp @neptunerings @victoriawhimsey @punkitt-is-here

https://www.gofundme.com/f/providing-assistance-to-displaced-people-for-a-better-life

[satorhime]

. ･｡･ self checkout ࿐ nagi seishiro.

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ content ㆍ﹒fluff, aged up!nagi, pro footballer!nagi, height difference (reader is shorter than nagi), shopping trips, slightly suggestive, established relationship. f!reader. w.c. 2k & not proofread.

── ◜ ⪩⪨ ◞ synopsis ㆍ﹒nagi enjoys running errands if the two of you go together. & ໒꒰ྀི ´ ꒳ ` ꒱ྀིა notes: baby’s first blue lock fic !! honestly i’m supa nervous bc i haven’t written 4 them before n i’m still figuring things out but i hope u enjoy reading this anw <333

“this date is so tiring,” nagi laments for the fifth time since you stepped through the automated sliding doors of the neighborhood supermarket. he blows out a breath from his puffed cheeks, sounding as if he is on the verge of collapsing while you browse the shelves for pantry essentials and late night snacks. “when can we go home?”

a trendy song from a summer spotify mix croons over the tinny speakers overhead, its bubblegum pop lyrics interrupted every now and then by a cheery voice advertising new items and upcoming discounts. the supermarket is busier than when you and seishiro usually stop by, which isn’t all that surprising considering it’s the end of the day. college students carry armfuls of instant ramen and sugary sodas for study sessions and old ladies browse for medicinal teas while parents push full carts of groceries, ignoring their wailing children who press their little noses against the frosty glass of the freezers, begging to be given overpriced ice creams locked away inside.

and you resist the urge to roll your eyes with exasperation, glancing over to where your boyfriend leans heavily on the handle of the cart he has been tasked with pushing for you— his long fingers tapping away at a mobile game on the screen of his phone.

“that’s because,” you begin, wagging a finger at him when you turn around and toss an item into the bottom of the cart. “it’s not a date, sei. i told you that i had to run errands today and you insisted on coming with me when you hate it.”

“‘s’boring at home when you’re not there, so it seemed like a good idea at first,” he shrugs, rolling the cart further down the aisle when you’re on the move again. slothy, midwinter gray eyes drag lazily over your body— taking in the way your faded t-shirt (which is, really, just one of his old ones) rides up a little on your body, exposing the cute little dimples in the soft part of your back as you stand on your tiptoes, struggling to reach one of the higher shelves in the freezer section.

you are well aware that nagi hates daily tasks. things such as making the bed in the morning, washing the dishes after dinner, or visiting the laundromat once a week requires too much energy from your drowsy footballer boyfriend, but it makes you happy to know that he tries, even if he falls asleep while doing it; that he will do anything if you are involved, and nothing if you aren’t.

like right now, he abandons his mobile game and the shopping cart in the middle of the aisle without care to come over and help you, making a mother of two-under-two glare at him viciously. he snorts, sliding his hand into the back pocket of your denim shorts, a romantic comedy habit of his when the two of you are walking anywhere together. nagi’s head tilts cutely to one side, blinking owlishly up at the shelves. “which one d’you wanna get, shortstack?”

“i am not short,” you huff, twisting your mouth to one side at his teasing, but you point to the item you want— an assorted pack of ice lollies. “shelves are designed against short people. and i dunno— are we in the mood for ice cream or popsicles?”

it’s hard to make a decision because freezers full of summer treats line both sides of the aisle. tubs of gourmet gelatos, variety packs of creamy ice candies, and an endless selection of mochi with custard fillings in the middle that make your mouth water at the thought of bringing them home with you.

“i’ll eat them no matter what anyway,” he shrugs, unwilling to be the one to choose, but then his gray eyes glance down at your lips, then back to the items in front of you. you swear that his eyes darken to a stormier color, even though his expression never changes. “you make cute sounds when you suck on ice pops, and you always taste sweet after. get those.”

and then he faces forward, browsing the selection of ice creams with interest, as if his words didn’t short circuit a current in your brain. you’ll never understand how seishiro can say the most outlandish things so casually, only to return to what he’s doing while you’re left attempting to calm your fast heart.

“ice pops it is,” you say, a little winded. “make sure to get the second pack, and not the first.”

“mhnn, why’s it matter? the second one’s farther back. they all look the same to me.”

“they’re not. the first is one everybody has touched or returned.”

“that . . . makes sense,” he considers it, then he nods, lips formed into a little ‘o’ shape. “okay, we’ll get the second one.”

you watch as he steps forward, pushing the first pack of ice lollies aside to select the second as you requested, reaching the item with ease and heavens, it’s moments like these when you are reminded just how much bigger seishiro is. he’s always towered over your shorter height and it’s so, so unfair how he uses it to his advantage, making your tummy burn at the sight. frosty air wafts from the open door of the freezer, bringing chills over your heated skin. “‘s a good thing i was here, since you’re so little— there was no way you could reach it.”

“‘m not little,” you mumble, all pouty because nagi is squishing your cheeks between two finger pads. “you’re just so tall. it’s unfair.”

“want me to be shorter?” he asks, and before you can ask what he means, nagi drops the pack of ice pops into your hands and deflates dramatically, bending down to drape himself over your frame. his head tucked against your shoulder, the footballer’s milky fringe tickling the skin of your neck as he closes his eyes. “man, now ‘m even more tired.”

“seishiro, you’re heavy.”

“i know,” he sighs, eyes shuttering below thick lashes, but he makes no effort to move away from your body. instead, his hand slithers under your shirt. making you shiver because his fingertips are dewy and cold from the arctic blast of the freezer and the frozen treat he picked up. you hiss, squirming under his touch as his fingers trail across your belly. “but i’m tired ‘n’ you feel s’soft, like a pillow.”

“nagi, off,” you wheeze, his extra weight making it hard for you to properly breathe. it’s easy to forget how solid he is, straight lines of athletic muscle that usually has you cow-eyed and cooing, as long as it’s not weighing you down in the middle of a supermarket. you try to shake him off, but the midfielder only squeezes you against his body even tighter, his slightly damp lips pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. “we’re never gonna get anything done like this, you lazy boy. if you don’t wanna walk, go wait in the sitting area with the grandpas.”

he sighs in defeat and shakes his head, pressing his lips together in that cute frown he pulls whenever he’s thinking. then, he’s dropping his arms from you suddenly. “mmhn, got a better idea.”

“and what’s that—”

you face nagi, only to catch your boyfriend with one foot in the shopping cart as he tries to hoist himself over the railing and inside of the basket.

“sei, you can’t fit in there—!” your eyes flicker between him, and the elderly man judging the two of you at the other end of the aisle. “you’re too big.”

“you’re always saying things like that,” he says, and the innuendo intertwined in the words flies over your pretty head because with one boost, he’s hopping over the railing and sinking into the cart, the metal rattling in protest. you stand there, dumbstruck as he settles. “now i can stay with you without walking.”

“yeah, but now that means i have to push you,” you grumble. “i should leave you here and get a new cart.”

but it’s hard to refuse when your boyfriend is that cute. his impossibly long legs are folded against his chest so that he can fit inside the shopping cart comfortably, taking extra care not to crush any of the delicate items surrounding him. the lower half of his face is buried into the collar of his soft hoodie as he absently chews on the drawstrings, but you can still see the sanrio bandaid you put on him yesterday after he got a nasty elbow to the cheek during football practice.

even though you two are already receiving strange looks from other shoppers passing by, you grip the handle, pushing the cart and your boyfriend dutifully, rolling it onto the next aisle.

“you look ridiculous,” you tell him, but you’re grinning. “but here, you’re on list duty. what do we need to get next?”

nagi’s eyes dutifully scan over the shopping list open in the notes app of your phone, his fingernail scrolling the screen lightly.

“it says ‘ramen because my greedy athlete bf keeps eating it all’ so y’need to get . . . oi, you mean me—”

“i wonder who wrote that there,” you whistle innocently, plucking the device out of his hands, wheeling him away fast.

the rest of your shopping trip is a blur, except for you turning a corner too fast and nearly dumping him out of the cart or the weird looks shoppers continue to give you because by the time you’re lining up in the queue, nagi is buried under the items because he takes up too much space. there’s a bag of rice on one shoulder, a pack of ramen on the other and fresh radishes sprouting from the snowy peaks of his head. not to mention, he’s still holding the pack of ice pops, condensation dripping over his hands.

“you’re making them melt, sei.” because he runs hot a heated blanket in the summer, and you can sympathize with the poor popsicles being defrosted in his big hands.

“‘m gonna eat one so they won’t— oh, hey this one is lemon,” he says, prying open the cardboard lid and tearing open the plastic wrapper of a lemon crème ice pop. tongue peeking out to lick before he’s holding it over his shoulder for you to taste next. “try it. i don’t sound as cute as you when i eat them.”

“sei, you’re not supposed to open those before we—” but nagi pushes the cold treat between your lips insistently, your eyes rounding wide, whining in protest as the ice pop hits your sensitive teeth. but it does taste good— creamy, sweet and sour flavors coating the surface of your tongue. “oh, it’s sh’good. we should get another pack.”

“see? y’make the cutest sounds when you suck it.”

“shut up, seishiro.”

you begin placing the items on the conveyor belt, listening to the irritating bleep, bleep, bleep of the scanner as the cashier rings up each product. you’re not frugal, but you peep at the total on the screen every now and then with a wince.

“that’s it for you, or are you buying the man in your cart too, ma’am?” the cashier asks, glancing at nagi as he finishes off the melting ice pop in the shopping cart, chin resting on top of his knees.

“no,” and you giggle, cheeks warming as you roll your eyes in exasperation. “this one is already mine.”

[whoskimii]

dad nanami fluff fic please 🥹 how would he make sure his kids are healthy and safe always????

dad nanami :( so cute oh myyy <33

⋆౨ৎ˚ notes > dad! nanami x daughter! you. he's just so dedicated fr :( daddy materialllll. tell me if i missed anything!! ^^ ౨ৎ warning : you may have butterflies in your belly while reading this!! 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

listen, we all know nanami for his really meticulous and responsible personality, right ? but please the fact that he's actually younger than gojo :)

when his baby daughter was born, he felt like the happiest man in the whole world. he felt spoiled. almost as if he didn't deserve it. but unfortunately, his wife died during childbirth.

of course it took him a lot of time to get used to his wife's absence, but at least he had you. and that was already more than enough to him. he was grateful.

he would be a really caring and protective daddy for his daughter, no matter her age. but since he already lost his wife, he wouldn't be able to deal with another loss. so, his fatherly instincts multiplied because of that. it made him a bit stricter but it was for the best. he still loved you more than anything and anyone.

as you grew older, he let go a little. but!!! he still followed firm parenting strategies. even as a teenager, you studied, ate and slept at the same hour everyday. it just reassured him to know that you had a consistent daily routine, something that you could cling onto even if he was away for a mission. he knew you were a good girl and you never ever ditched that routine even if he wasn't there to keep his eyes on you.

to ensure that his kiddie ate healthily, he would def be involved in meal planning. he would always make dishes that gave you vitamins, minerals and essential nutrients. you were his little girl so what kind of dad would he be if he didn't make sure you ate meals good for your health ?

look at me and tell me he wouldn't make sure that you participated in physical activities, like sports or even martial arts. so ? yeah, that's what i thought. he would definitely go on runs with you. it's givin' daddy & daughter bonding time :(

he would always always always make sure that you felt safe at home. that's why he would listen to you if you had some issues. your boyfriend cheated on you ? and that dumbass knocked on his door to apologize to his daughter ? he would def look down at him and lean on the door frame before slamming the door right in front of his nose.

health check-ups ? health check-ups. daddy nanami would always schedule medical check-ups and vaccination if needed to monitor and maintain his baby's health. you'd go to the dentist often and even other specialists. your health is like, his top priority.

if you had a weak immune system (like me frfr ⋋_⋌) you would defff have a personalized healthcare plan. he would also always limit exposure to illness, especially during flu season or outbreaks of contagious diseases.

he just wants you to stay safe and healthy and happy :( can you blame your dad ?

love me some daddy nanami (,,>ヮ<,,)!

⋆˚�� kimi 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[dixons-sunshine]

Saw your birthday post and I’m here to say dad!daryl especially during pregnancy would be act like a caveman. You’re growing his child? He’s hunting for a mounting of food (more specifically animals especially deer) and presenting them to you like he’s at an altar. You want something. He’s already got it. Craving something that’s lots to the old world? Don’t worry he’ll do his best and if not he’ll find a suitable replacement. Dad!daryl would do anything for you already, and now you’re with his child… you really get to see how far he’d go.

Let’s not mention if you were ever in a position where he thinks you’d be in danger because he’s animalistic ensuring that you and his baby are okay.

Thank you for listening to my ted talk

Also happy early birthday!!

No because I think about this on a daily basis. You'd think I'm lying but I'm not. The amount of times I think of Daryl as a dad should be illegal lol. My own thoughts under the cut. (Sorry this isn't a proper fic. I didn't know how to write this in a way that would be in a way you deserve, but I loved this so much and didn't want this to go to waste, so I'm doing this. Hope it's okay!)

Basically everything you said is so freaking true. As far as I'm aware, aka on what I've seen in movies and what my mom has told me, the correct meat is an essential part to a pregnant woman's diet. Oh, boy, once you're pregnant and the doctor says that you need protein? You be rest assured that Daryl is not resting until he finds you the best goddamn venison he can. No rabbit or squirrel meat for the love of his life and his unborn baby. Y'all deserve only the best. He'd even fight tooth and nail if he could only find a small deer and there wouldn't be enough venison for everyone in the community and everyone wanted some. You needed it more than they did, and he'd hold someone at gunpoint if he needed to.

I've also wondered a lot about Daryl finding whatever you're craving. A few nights ago, I was really craving chips (fries) but I couldn't go buy any, so I had to make my own. While making it (at 3am if I may add) I thought about Daryl making you what you're craving during your pregnancy. If he can't find what you're craving outside the walls, he's gonna try his damn best to make it. Fries? He's picking potatoes out of the community's garden to make you that. You want a sandwich? He's gonna make you a sandwich. You want some crisps (chips)? He can't make it, but he's not gonna rest until he finds you some. It may be stale, but he doesn't care. Anything for you.

I've seen a couple of videos where the guy stands behind his pregnant partner and raises their belly to relieve some pressure. Daryl would do that! I read it in my favourite dad!Daryl series (Blood Ties by @celtic-crossbow. If you haven't read it yet, I highly recommend it!) and I was like “yes, he would totally do that!” Anything that would help make you even the slightest bit more comfortable, he'd do it. Also, I feel like it would bring a sense of comfort to him when he does that. It'd make him feel more connected with his baby before they're born, y'know?

Don't even get me started on Daryl being extremely overprotective of you. He doesn't want you to be in any sort of danger in general, but the need to keep you safe when you're carrying his baby increases by a tenfold. Your escapades beyond the walls are put on a hold for the foreseeable future. Anything you need beyond the walls, he'll get it for you. And if you don't want him to leave you, he'll get someone else to do it for him. He wouldn't ever let you willingly put yourself in danger, and if you ever were in danger, the people responsible for it would pay dearly.

I have a lot of thoughts on this but my brain isn't working with me right now. Thank you so much for sending this in! I really loved this so much.

[abibliophobiaa]

Chapter Two: Miscommunication

summary: times goes on, and so do you. but what happens when you bump into the one person you thought you would never see again? (6k words)

eddie munson x pregnant!reader || strangers to friends to lovers, unplanned pregnancy, and then they were roommates, forced proximity.

warnings: sickness (r morning sickness); mention of drugs; mention of child abuse.

mini series masterlist

previous chapter || next chapter

——

Life didn’t magically stop merely because Eddie had ended up being completely different than who you thought he was. Still, nothing quite eased the ache of knowing you’d foolishly trusted another person who’d only gone and let you down. And even so, you quarreled daily with the fact Eddie didn’t really owe you or this baby anything. He’d done as you’d asked; he’d provided an outlet that afternoon, had loved you in the dark — for a little while. You often fought the urge to blame yourself for believing the front he’d put on. The whole ‘I don’t do this often.’

Because apparently he had, based on the fact he’d needed you to remind him more than once who you were. It wasn’t like it was often one found a woman dressed in a Princess Buttercup costume, and then proceeded to go back to a hotel with said woman.

You could do this on your own. Had convinced yourself of as much when you’d started looking for places to move. The only thing was…the city proved to be expensive. It had been one thing having joint salaries when you’d lived with Paul to help cover the cost of rent. Now you had another eventual mouth to feed, a baby to clothe in a few months time, and other expenses to think about like diapers and car seats and furniture.

Two weeks after you’d told Eddie about the baby and he’d essentially shot you down, you’d gotten a phone call from Robin Buckley. You had spent years together in acting classes at your college in the city a few years ago. Became fast friends back in the day and still kept up with one another. It just so happened, when you’d caught her up on life, that she had a basement apartment at her friend Steve’s place that he and his wife, Chrissy, rented out to her. Side entrance, privacy, and apparently a pull out couch in the living area that you could crash on until you found an apartment of your own.

You hated the idea of putting her out like that, but she insisted. And soon enough you shared teary goodbyes in Micah’s living room, her arms around your form, as Jeremiah clapped you on the back. They both wished you well and promised to call, and you hopped in the car and watched as the city faded into nothingness behind you.

Cityscapes and towering buildings turned into endless trees and charming Mom and Pop shops. Busy intersections became citizens walking their dogs and running on side streets. It even smelled different, the air cleaner and crisper somehow, not bogged down by car fumes and smoke.

The Harrington home was beautiful. Large, imposing walls. Gorgeous interior filled to the brim with countless photos of Chrissy and Steve throughout the years. Married for the past two of them, and sickly in love judging by the way they answered the door together, Steve’s arm around his wife, with Chrissy bouncing a baby girl with sandy blonde hair on her hip as you’d entered.

The immediate thought of Eddie’s dark hair knocked the wind out of you — the realization your own child might have his hair. Dark ringlets, and chocolate brown eyes. You hated that you even cared. It had been one night, and even if it had changed nearly everything for you, it meant nothing to him. He’d made that part very clear.

That first evening spent in Hawkins was done so around their dinner table. Steve had put together some pasta and meatballs, and you all chatted about your lives. You, and your old job, of which Steve snapped his fingers together immediately and suggested you come work at the high school where they’d needed some help in the library.

Robin seemed so hopeful for you, eyes shining as he told you, “See — it’s all gonna work out, babe. I told you.”

The apartment itself wasn’t large or anything. An open space for the most part, with a connected living room and kitchen. Robin had the closed off bedroom, and there was a makeshift bathroom with a small shower stall inside, and not nearly spacious enough. But it would do for now, and was way more than you could have ever hoped for or expected.

Your first purchases had been some clear tote boxes to keep stored away under your pullout bed. One for your clothes, one for the clothes you thrifted for the baby, and one for the miscellaneous items here and there like toiletries, diapers, your shampoos and conditioners and make up. It wasn’t much, and you’d likely run out of room soon, but it worked for now.

Those first two weeks passed in a blur. As promised, Steve was able to get you in for an interview at the high school library. It paid well enough, came with health insurance, and time off for maternity leave — though you didn’t know how they knew you’d need it, but you’d like to thank them if you ever found out. As you exited, you happened upon Steve and Chrissy’s awaiting stares, her excited giggling bursting to life when you’d said you were hired and would start that following Monday.

Later, as you all shared yet another celebratory dinner — this time for your new job position — and your baby decided it definitely didn’t like meatloaf, you stumbled into Chrissy on your way out of the bathroom, the back of your hand pressed to your mouth. Her eyes were soft as she led you back over to sit on the edge of the shower and fumbled around in her cabinet for something wrapped in a tiny package.

“Apparently ginger helps with the nausea,” she explained as your eyes widened at the wrapped candy settled in your palm. Confusion lined your furrowed brows and she continued, “For the morning sickness.”

“Oh — I-I’m…”

“It’s okay, you know. I kind of figured it out right away. Steve says I have a sense for these things.” She settled down on the toilet beside you, her knee knocking against the outside of your jean-clad thigh. “Is the father not…”

“No.” It came out as a shaky exhale, heart thumping loudly in your ears. “He’s not around, no. It’s just us.”

“Then you’ll stay,” she urged, reaching across your lap to clasp her hand around yours. “For as long as you need, okay?”

Life settled into a new normalcy. You went to work every morning, waved to your new coworkers as you passed, and began learning the names of the dozens of kids that would filter in and out of the library. And during your lunch breaks, you’d often walk around the track with Steve, talking to him about your day, his day, the weather. Trivial things, but it brought you comfort. A sense of familiarity in the unfamiliar you found yourself in.

The holidays, though different this year, were spent with people who wanted the best for you. Chrissy and Steve had been kind enough to buy you a basket of things for the baby, and Robin had as well, trying to lighten the burden however they could.

It was right around that time you’d learned Steve not only had Melody as a daughter, but a gaggle of twenty-something’s that Robin joked he’d been something of a mother hen to. They welcomed you into the fold without question, excited to have a new friend in their close-knit group.

It was also during those initial weeks you’d spent hours talking to Micah and Jere about how you really thought this was the best decision for your life right now. That you needed this change. And they promised to come visit often when you had your own place, especially since Micah insisted she planned on ‘spoiling the hell out of her niece or nephew.’

Soon enough, unfamiliar streets became solidified in your memory. You learned the best coffee shops and the shortest routes to get places you needed to go. You realized the next door neighbor, Tabitha, always walked her dogs at two in the afternoon and waved as she passed every time. That Pete down the street had the freshest veggie garden every spring and summer, and he promised he’d give you his extras when the seasons got warmer. You even enjoyed your coworkers. Appreciated their presence and help as you acquainted yourself with the school setting, and looked out for you like you'd been there for years.

Hawkins became a home. You didn’t know how or when, but it had. And it was then you finally allowed yourself to pause in front of your bathroom mirror one evening. To stop and stare at the reflection there, turning to the side, curiously tracing the space presently unchanged. Tried to imagine your empty arms being full in a few months, tried to imagine their little face. Tiny hands and little toes, the only person who knew what your heart sounded like from the inside.

They’d be yours and they’d be happy, growing up in a place where they’d only know love, and that’s all you ever wanted.

——

As the weeks progressed and 1994 bled into 1995, you progressed. Eyes drifted in supermarkets, trailed over the girl with no husband in tow. A bunch of close-minded town folk. Mother’s seemed to eye you wearily as you walked, children tugged closer to their side. Whispered when your back was turned to friends, asking quietly if you were simply gaining weight only in your middle of if you had some sort of scandalous secret, reaching up to grab canned soup or Robin’s favorite snacks.

It happened to be the only thing you didn’t like about Hawkins. The fact your business quickly became everyone else’s business. It was bad enough that you worked with teenagers these days. Many of whom preferred coming into the library lately to merely talk to someone they saw as closer in age, and therefore their personal information dump. You gave little more than properly timed nods and gentle reassurances, before you wished them on their way back to whatever classes they seemed intent on skipping.

Luckily, as the holidays came and went, you had the fortune of your increasingly close knitted friend group that consisted of Steve, Chrissy, and Robin — as well as the youngest Harrington, Melody.

Melody with her bright laughter and wispy curls, who reminded you constantly of who you were doing this all for. Uprooting your life, making changes, doing what you wanted to for once. That same little presence that had made itself more prominently known those weeks, current jeans swapped for ones you thrifted at the local store that accommodated the small bump that had decided would no longer be confined to your old clothes. That same little presence your thumb brushed over as you stood in the cereal aisle with Robin and held aloft a box, asking if you needed anymore back at the apartment.

“I mean, we already have two boxes, babe,” she said, shrugging, “but if you’re craving it, buy it. I don’t wanna mess with those angry hormones or whatever you got going on right now.”

“I don’t get angry.” The petulant pout on your lips spoke otherwise.

“You cried when I drank the last of the coffee the other morning —”

“That’s different,” you grumbled, tossing the box into the shopping cart. “I think we got everything. Is there anything else that you can th —”

“Robin Buckley in the flesh. Get your ass over here right now, I missed you so fucking much.”

You stiffened on the spot, heart clenching tight within your chest. You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t think, couldn’t move, couldn’t utter a word. The voice had come from behind you, but the realization dawned instant. The timbre of it, the inflection of his words, the jovial nature and affection lacing the sentiment toward your friend.

And Robin understood. You watched as clarity drained her features, a sickly pale color overtaking her cheeks. As her mouth dropped open and she glanced over your shoulder to offer him a smile. You’d never told your friends much about the father. Hadn't even so much as uttered his name once since he’d hung up the call. Had only said he’d been someone you knew briefly and never saw again. Someone who’d known about the baby, and yet wanted nothing to do with it, sparing you from further heartbreak in some ways by rejecting you both outright. Now he was here, standing behind you in the cereal aisle in Hawkins, no longer in California.

With the tip of your head, you muttered, “I’m fine. Go say hi.”

Head bowing over the railing of your shopping cart, you listened as Robin and Eddie’s laughter filled the aisle. As he likely picked her up and spun her around, based on the sudden thump of feet you heard a short while after.

“And who is your friend here?” he asked, stepping closer to you. And when you turned, he stiffened, voice a little high and tight as he choked, “Buttercup?”

“It’s me,” you offered weakly, feeling very much like you’d stepped into an episode of The Twilight Zone. “Guess you’re back from California.”

The words came out harsher than you intended. Barbed in a way that felt unfamiliar to you. Especially with Robin standing uncomfortably in the distance, shifting on the balls of her feet, eyes dancing between the two of you like she didn’t know who she should focus her attention on solely.

“And you’re…here. In Hawkins,” he murmured, sounding a little breathless, hand reaching out to touch like he thought you might float away into the wind before his eyes. You didn’t even think he noticed what he was doing, but you stepped back all the same, an arm coming to cross over your chest, head angling away from him. “I, uhm. Sorry, sorry — can we talk?”

Hurt seared anew in your chest, eyes meeting Robin’s briefly. The other woman shrugged, and you faced Eddie once more. “I don’t know what we could possibly —”

“Five minutes,” he offered, biting at his bottom lip. “Just…five minutes.”

“I’ll go up front to check out. Give me the car keys,” Robin said, just as your resolve crumbled a bit and you dipped your head curtly. You did as told and she flashed you a weak smile, pushing the cart along. Her head whirled around. “Don’t forget you have an appointment soon. I’ll come get you if you’re still talking after five minutes.”

“Thanks, Rob. We won’t be long, don't worry.”

You waved, following Eddie out the sliding front doors to the supermarket, stomach lodged high in your throat.

——

Of all the things you imagined he might say if you saw him again, “You know, I really hoped you’d call,” was definitely not one of them. And it was exactly what he’d said as you stepped out into the street, tugging your winter coat tighter to your body to block out the chill in the air.

Hot anger pooled in your veins. Fists balled up at your sides. Those angry hormones Robin spoke of? You felt them building at his statement, forming a cyclone of whirling emotion, anger like acid on your tongue as you snapped back, “Are you kidding me? I did call you, Eddie. I fucking called you to tell you I was pregnant and you hung up on me. I can’t believe you just said that. You know, I already thought you were an asshole, but that took the —”

You’d started walking away from him, wanting to run back inside the store and pretend this whole ordeal had never happened. Five minutes had been a joke, you’d only made it thirty seconds before he’d gone and opened his mouth and infuriated you further than you already had been toward the man.

But then you heard it. The choked whoosh of breath, the wobbly, “What did you just say?”

There was another sharp inhale of breath. Staggered, like he’d suffered through it, his palm coming to rest over his sternum. Fear propelled you toward him, a hand coming to rest over his back as he hunched forward a bit, trying to catch his breath.

“Eddie…what’s happening right now?” Your voice was so quiet you worried he might not have heard you over the harsh gasps he tried to draw into ragged lungs.

Something like a moaned curse ripped from his lips and he dropped down into a crouch, back against a lamppost, seemingly the only thing holding him upright. You got down on your knees in front of him, rubbing along the taut muscles of his shoulders, tensed in his panic.

“Hey…” you whispered, completely confused as to what the hell was going on. And yet, he looked so broken, forehead on his knees, arms around his shins, trying to get a hold of himself. “Deep breaths, okay? Follow me.”

He listened to your words as you coached him through a few deeper breaths. Watched as his shoulders loosened up, as his lungs started to expand further, and the wheezing died down into a quiet whisper. Finally, he looked upward — at you, at your face, and your own breath faltered. Watery, his eyes were watery and you could see the confusion there. The unfathomable and unimaginable hurt.

“Why…why does it seem like this is the first time you’re…hearing this…”

“Because it is, god damn it,” he groaned. “Did you really think — you thought — I wouldn’t have —”

“I don’t really even know you,” you retaliated, following after him as he shot up and began walking the opposite direction of the store you’d come from. “Will you slow down?!”

“Should I be concerned that there’s a woman chasing you across the parking lot, Munson?” Robin barked out a laugh, pushing your shared cart along the parking lot, stopping when she reached where you presently stood, watching Eddie walk back and forth, still trying to gather himself. To you, she whispered, “Is he okay?”

“I’m…I’m not sure,” you said, frowning when he turned back around and brushed the back of his hand along his eyes, then glanced down at your midsection, hidden behind the layers of your now zipped jacket. “Hey, Eddie? I think we need to go somewhere and talk.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, nodding, those curls around his shoulder bobbing with the movement, “yeah, I think we can start there.”

“I have an hour before my doctor’s appointment,” you told him, then glanced at Robin. “If Eddie drives me to the diner, can you drive my car? And I can always walk to my doctor’s office.”

“I’m not making you walk in the cold.” Eddie shook his head. “I’ll — I can drop you off or something.”

Robin took your keys hesitantly, eying you both once more. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Robin asked you quietly. At your nod, she added, “This doesn’t sound like Eddie if he’s who I’m thinking he is. He’s a good guy, babe. Just…maybe hear him out, okay? No angry hormones.”

“No angry hormones,” you promised, and watched as Eddie and Robin loaded up your trunk with the groceries you bought.

Once your friend pulled out of the parking lot, it was time for you to climb into Eddie’s van. He rushed around to open the door for you, and held a hand out as you clambered up on in, heart thudding at the fleeting contact with the man after two months without. Hated that even now you felt that immediate rush, the jolt in your system that you’d felt that night.

He hopped in on the other side and watched your face as you angled your head over your shoulder at the back of the vehicle. Your yet unvoiced immediate thoughts as you took in your surroundings were quieted by his rapidly uttered, “I…can make it safer. For —” He glanced down again, “well, you know.”

Uncomfortable silence settled over the vehicle, the gentle hum of whatever music Eddie had put on immediately lowered when you jolted to life at the first blaring notes that spilled out. Scenery fluttered on by as your forehead pressed against the glass window, fingers curled into a fist on your lap, tension roiling in your form.

The diner appeared out of the corner of your eye, its neon glowing sign declaring they were open twenty four hours catching your eye as you dropped down from the passenger side door and joined Eddie on the sidewalk. He opened the door for you as you both approached and helped pull out a chair, that boyish smile on his face you so vividly remembered playing on his lips as he dropped down across from you and asked the nearest waitress for some water and a set of menus.

“I just want a giant plate of fries,” you groaned, practically tasting them in all their potatoey goodness.

“And a plate of fries for the lady, please!” Eddie called out just before the waitress slipped out of earshot. “I…it’s good to see you. You look great.”

“You too.” Your fingers balled up your straw wrapper, rolled it along the table mindlessly. “So, I guess we should rip the bandaid off and start at the beginning?”

“Beginning is good.”

“About a month after we’d been together I started feeling sick. So naturally I went to the doctor and, well, surprise.” You gestured vaguely to your form. “That’s when I called you. Or I thought I did? But the look on your face back there….Eddie, I’m so sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” He laughed, a dark sounding laugh that made your fingers twitch around your glass, refraining from reaching over to comfort the man. “You tried to tell me. Fuck — I’m going to find out who it was. But you have to know I’d never just…abandon my kid. Please know that. I might be scared as shit, but I wouldn’t abandon them like that. Wouldn’t abandon their mother like that either.”

“So you’re okay with it?” Fear gripped your chest, head lifting to look at him over the top of your glass of water. “Because you’re oddly calm about this at the moment and I just want to remind you this isn’t some kind of thing someone can half commit to. I — we have at least eighteen years ahead of us.”

“I understand that,” he said earnestly, an edge of harshness to his tone. His eyes narrowed a bit. “My dad was a piece of shit. I’m not about to follow in his footsteps.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurted, swallowing thickly, “I didn’t mean to insinuate anything by it. I’m just —”

“You’re a mother, I get it.”

It was the first time someone acknowledged it. The first time maybe you’d even acknowledged it. A mother; you were a mother. Not going to be — a present state.

“Yeah, I guess I am.”

“I…I want to be there. In any way that I can. I know you’re doing most of the work right now, but I want you to know I’m here.” He exhaled deeply, hand coming to swipe over his jaw, rubbing gently. “I want to be here. For you,” he glanced down, “and them.”

“Okay. I guess we’re doing this.”

“We’re doing this,” he agreed.

Silence settled over the two of you as a waitress appeared with your drinks and the plate of fries you decided you might as well share with Eddie. You wanted it to be awkward. Wanted it to be stilted, but he was just as charming as the night you’d first met him. Boisterous laughter, jokes that made your sides hurt, wide grins that made something swoop low in your belly.

“How was California?”

“Good — warmer than here at least. We recorded the album and we’re really happy with the result. It’s very true to our roots, which is what we wanted,” he said, tossing another fry into his mouth. “We might do a tour, but we have a year. Which…works out, given our current circumstances. Just how pregnant are you right now anyway?”

“Four months,” you told him, sipping at your water.

“How are you feeling?”

“Uhm, in the beginning I was really sick. But luckily the past couple of weeks have been better,” you explained, offering him a smile when he grimaced. “I have pictures. I’ve kept copies in my bag…it’s silly, I know. Do you want to see them?”

“Can I?” He pressed his fist to his mouth as you slipped your hand into your pocketbook and fished out the small black and white images of varying stages throughout the past couple of months. You laid the first one in front of him, laughing as he squinted to try and figure out what exactly he was looking at. “It looks like a bean.”

“It kind of was. That was the first appointment,” you told him, handing him the most recent one after. “And this is my most recent appointment.”

His fingers glided over the curve of the spine. The shape of the head. Marveled at it with glassy eyes, your fingers curling over the leather of his jacket, right around his wrist to offer him some modicum of comfort. Allowed him to have a moment to let it all sink in. It had to be overwhelming. It had been, and still often was, for you to sit down and really accept that all of this was real.

He’d only had minutes to accept the news that his life as he knew it had changed, you had months.

“We should leave for my appointment soon,” you said, tucking away your napkin on the table.

“Would it be weird if I asked to come?” he asked, sounding so hopeful, younger than you knew him to be.

“It’s not weird. I mean, they’re half you, right?” you told him, watching him sign his signature on the receipt handed over by the waitress in passing before tucking it away. “But, uh, sure. Yeah.”

He lifted the picture of his unborn baby once more, grinned to himself, thumb brushing over the curve of their head. “Thank you.”

——

Father.

Eddie Munson hadn’t really ever had a good example of what that word stood for. For him, ‘father’ was the man who only came around every so often to ask his mother for money when she’d been alive. For drugs, to get himself out of a horrible situation, to try and pay a bill. For Eddie, father was the guy who taught him how to hotwire a car, the man who gave him his first black eye, someone who blamed his son for his every lot in life.

But as he grew, father became morning coffees with Wayne outside as the sun rose high over Hawkins. It meant putting up a Christmas tree around the holidays that looked more like a bush with lights than anything else. It meant learning how to fix cars with his hands, encouraging words to get him through high school, a call late at night when he was out of town working on his dreams of making music.

Right now, father was the word the technician had used when she asked you to confirm who he was to the baby when he sat down in that little office with you. It was the word she used when she asked him to fill out paperwork on his history, the word his soul screamed at him when he finally heard that tiny heartbeat working overtime.

His little ‘Party Favor’ he’d teased as you both walked back out toward the van after scheduling your next ultrasound. Twenty weeks, the big one, they’d told you both.

“Please don’t call our baby a party favor ever again,” you’d grumbled as you hoisted yourself up into the passenger seat, but he knew from the smile tugging at your lips when he settled down on the driver’s side that you hadn’t meant it.

“Where are you staying these days?” he asked, thumb curling around the steering wheel. “So I can drive you home.”

He hadn’t expected you to rattle off Steve’s address, but when you did, his eyes widened and you immediately asked, “Do you know where that is?”

“Kind of,” he said, turning his head to take in your pretty features. While he knew it probably wasn’t the best time to be admiring you as such, you looked so damn breathtaking his stomach twisted with it, “seeing as he’s my best friend.”

“Why am I not surprised? This day just keeps getting weirder.” You laughed, staring out into the streets as a gentle snow began to fall. “I happen to move to your hometown, where I also happen to then move into your best friend’s house.”

“I didn’t know you knew Robin.”

“It’s a small world.”

“And apparently getting smaller,” he said, eyes ahead on the road as he pulled out of the parking lot. “Thank you. For letting me come.”

The answer was silence. You’d curled up against the car door, forehead against the glass, mouth parted gently, lashes flush against the tops of your cheeks. His eyes drifted downward, to where your pocketbook rested next to your hip and your arm curled over your middle. Peaceful, you looked so peaceful — just like that night you’d spent together, where he’d watched as your eyes had started to flutter closed halfway through the movie and he’d held his breath as you rolled over and sought out the heat of his body.

He hadn’t lied. He didn’t have nights like those often. Had never even intended to go to that party that night. He’d only gone because the rest of the guys wanted to get out of the hotel for a bit and ended up rushing to put together a costume with less than a day’s notice. You’d sat at that bar, hunched over and bored and he’d been curious. He just never expected you to turn around, nor had he expected spending hours laughing with you over your drinks, or finding yourselves twisted in bedsheets.

And so much changed in a short four months. A stranger — you were mostly a stranger and now you were having his kid. Today, you’d been an acquaintance? A friend? He wasn’t sure what to think about it all. He still hadn’t fully processed the fact he would be a father in a few months to an innocent human being. Something so impressionable and his to raise.

He supposed that was also a conversation for another day. Something else to ponder after he dropped you off for the night and laid down for bed. Sighing, he shifted the car into park and glanced up at the front porch lamp hanging on the front of Steve Harrington’s doorway. He waved as Chrissy poked her head through the front curtains and noticed your sleeping form in the front seat.

Steve appeared in the doorway next, baby Melody on his hip as Eddie dropped down out of the van and rushed around the vehicle. “Say hi to Uncle Eddie,” Steve called out, holding up the baby’s hand in a little wave.

He waved back at the girl with a beaming gummy smile and tugged the door open, catching your shoulder as you rolled against the seatbelt a bit, eyes jolting open. “Hey, hey. You fell asleep, it’s just me.”

Your eyes searched his face in the night, and his heart lurched at the way they softened in recognition. “I’m sorry. You were talking and that was so rude of me I —”

“All good. I’m glad you got some sleep,” he chuckled, holding out a hand as you dropped down from the front seat and wobbled a bit before steadying yourself. “We’re here.”

The two of you made your way into the household, varying degrees of curious stares gliding over your forms as you stepped through the threshold. The first of which being Chrissy, who seemed unsure whether she wanted to keep her eyes on him or you.

“So you two have met it seems,” Steve said, “guess we don't have to get introductions out of the way.”

“We’ve met,” you muttered quietly, dipping your head as you yawned. A hand splayed over your midsection and Eddie watched the trail of your gaze stop on him. “Thanks for driving me today. I’m really tired and I should probably get to bed early.”

“Uh — y-yeah. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight everyone.” And you were gone, back trailing down the hallway toward the downstairs basement, the door shutting behind you with a resounding click.

There was a beat of silence, then, “Why didn’t you tell me she was living here?”

“What do you mean, you asshole? First time I see you in months and that’s the first thing you say?”

“That’s her.”

“The girl from the party?” Steve asked, mouth agape as Chrissy stepped forward to take the baby from him. She bounced their daughter around the kitchen island, pretending she wasn’t listening with her back to them, but Eddie knew better. Couldn’t fault her for wanting to protect a friend. “That’s the girl you couldn’t shut up about? Buttercup?”

“I need a drink. A strong one,” Eddie rasped, pulling out one of the island barstools. Propped his elbows on the counter and pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes. “First I’m thinking when I see her at the store, ‘wow, maybe I get a second chance at this.’ Has to be, since she ends up here of all places. And then I find out she’s pregnant with my baby and I —”

“You hung up on her,” Chrissy interjected. Steve raised a brow in her direction. “Sorry. I just…you didn’t see her when she came to town.”

“But that’s the thing.” He paused to thank Steve as he dropped a glass in front of him on the table. “I didn’t know. I would have been on a plane if I knew. I hate thinking she’s been alone in all of this. And I know the day she was referring to. We’d had some stupid party after we’d finished the album and played some of the new songs for fun and we had some people over. She talked to someone, but I swear it wasn’t me.”

“We believe you,” Steve promised, settling down beside his friend. A hand curled around Eddie’s forearm and gave a tight squeeze. “How are you feeling?”

He groaned a hoarse cry of ‘fuck’ into his fist, head shaking back and forth. “I’m scared, man. I tried to be brave for her today, but I don’t even know the first thing about kids. In what universe did someone think I’d be fit to be a dad?”

“In all of them, Ed,” Chrissy sighed, coming up to rest a hand on her husband’s shoulder. Steve reached over and slid his palm over her smaller one, oozing that sweet fondness that most people only ever dreamed of. “You’re a good man. Don’t sell yourself short. You have a few months to figure out all the rest.”

“You told her you’re going to be there for her, right? I mean, if that’s what you want?” Steve asked, eyes intently searching his best friend’s face.

“Yeah.” Eddie sighed, taking a large gulp of his drink. “I mean, not much I can do right now, but I’m going to be in whatever way she wants me to be.” His hand swiped down the front of his face.

“I’m going to put her down for bed and head up. Love you two.” Chrissy moved to exit the room, dropping a kiss to the top of Eddie’s head and shoving the back of it teasingly into the kitchen island. Once he’d bursted into a laugh, she bounced the baby higher on her hip and said, “And Eddie. It’s going to be okay. You have all of us too. You’re not alone; neither of you are. Don’t forget that.”

He sure hoped so.

Long after Chrissy had gone up for bed, and Eddie grabbed his jacket from the front coat hanger rack, Steve stopped him in the doorway. Pulled him in for a hug Eddie would normally end up throwing a fist into Steve’s stomach jokingly for. This time he clapped him on the back and let his lungs fully deflate. A sigh he’d been holding onto all afternoon released, the tension in his body along with it.

“To me, it looks like you got a second chance with her. Might look different than you thought it would, but you got a second chance. Whether that’s as co-parents, friends, or more — you still have something,” Steve told him, stepping back to open the door for his friend. “I’d take advantage of that opportunity. Not everyone gets one.”

And damn it, he decided he would.

——

let me know what you think! 💌 see you again next week for chapter three, titled ‘roommates.’ 😉