#It is 11:30 I need to be up very early

[neo-neos]

Pain is like water. It finds a way to push through any seal. There's no way to stop it. Sometimes you have to let yourself sink inside of it before you can learn how to swim to the surface.”

― Katie Kacvinsky (The Eighth Sense 2023)

[apomaro-mellow]

Steve gets the wrong number and starts texting an interesting guy. Steddie, modern au, no upside down

Steve had been feeling pretty good. He’d gone out, had a nice conversation with a girl at the bar and gotten her number. He didn’t feel sparks but she was nice and cute. They didn’t talk about anything too deep but when Steve had asked for her number she put it in and then left with her friends.

He tried not to be too desperate. But he wanted to let her know he was serious and that he would (eventually) be good boyfriend material. So a little before midnight, he shot a text to her to make sure she was alright.

[11:47] Hey this is Steve just making sure you got home okay 🙂

He had debated on the emoji but figured it was harmless and innocent in the end. He put his phone down and got ready for bed, expecting her to text back after a couple of minutes. Unless she didn’t get home safely. Steve tried not to think about that.

After changing his clothes and brushing his teeth he checked his phone. He lit up when he saw that Misty had replied.

(11:52) Sure did Steve-o (11:53) Thanks for your concern 🫡

Misty texted a little different from the way she talked. A bit more…well he wasn’t sure how to describe it. Misty seemed like a really straight-laced woman. She was in the process of getting her education degree.

Steve shot back another message, saying that he had a good time tonight and he really hoped to see her again. There it was. A clear intention. If she responded positively, he’d ask her out right then. But the reply didn’t come as quick as he wanted. When it got around 12:30, Steve finally called it a night. Misty had probably gone to sleep as well.

-------------------------------------------

[11:47] Hey this is Steve just making sure you got home okay 🙂

Eddie stared at the text he just received. He racked his brain for whoever Steve must be and what he had done all day today, wondering if he met someone but their name just slipped his mind.

But nope. He had spent this lovely Saturday at home, lounging around in his apartment on his day off. He hadn’t gone out. And he hadn’t met anyone named Steve. The message came when he was in the middle of making his near-midnight dinner of mac and cheese. Whoever this guy was, he was clearly checking in on someone.

Eddie looked at his surroundings. Decent place, a bit cramped but big enough for just him and for anyone who needed to crash on his couch. He had popped out earlier to get some cigs and he had in fact made it back safely.

(11:52) Sure did Steve-o (11:53) Thanks for your concern 🫡

And who said he didn’t have impulse control? He thought about it for at least two minutes before sending the message.

[11:55] I had a nice time tonight. Hope to see you again.

Eddie looked at the new text, his chewing slowing to a stop. This Steve guy had met someone, spent some time with them, and was now trying to set up another date. There were a few ways to go about this. For just a moment he considered what a rational person would do, just a moment though.

A rational person might’ve said right away ‘wrong number’ or ‘wires crossed’. But Eddie’s brain didn’t function on rationality. So even though Steve clearly meant to text someone else, Eddie thought of the best way to reply. It did take him a bit to send it, the macaroni was calling to him. But by 1, Eddie had sent something back.

(1:07) You saw me?  (1:09) From my apartment?  (1:10) Creepy

He went to bed, thinking he’d wake up to a very confused man and when morning came he wasn’t disappointed.

[8:13] What are you talking about? It’s Steve? From the bar?

Eddie checked his clock. It was ten in the morning. Who got up at eight on a Sunday? Eddie’s first thought was a church-goer. Those folks were early risers. But they didn’t frequent bars too much.

(10:29) Sorry man (10:30) I think you got the wrong number (10:30) I didn’t go to a bar last night.

Once he sent it, Eddie belatedly hoped the words weren’t too blunt. It couldn’t feel nice, getting a number error. But after a moment of thinking, he started coming around to the idea that maybe Steve wasn’t such a catch. People didn’t give wrong numbers after a good time. Maybe he actually was a creep.

[10:36] Oh. Well, I’m sorry to bother you.

Eddie rolled from his back onto his stomach. Curse his soft heart. He didn’t know anything about this man and somehow he felt sorry for him. But he wasn’t about to go gushing to a stranger. Who knows what kind of interactions Steve had with this mystery number? So instead, he went the typical Eddie route and tried to lighten the mood.

(10:38) Probably dodged a bullet (10:38) They could’ve been a serial killer (10:39) Or worse someone who jogs in the morning

He put that little dig there just to feel out Steve. If he wasn’t at church, maybe he was the kind to go and workout in the morning. In the middle of making his coffee, Eddie realized he was trying to learn about the dude and thought he might be courting danger. Then he heard a ‘ping!’ and any ideas of caution were thrown to the wind.

Leaning against the counter, the only sound was the percolating as he read what Steve had said.

[10:46] Okay confession. I did actually go for a jog this morning. Is that weird?

Eddie started to visualize this man and another alarm went off in his mind that he promptly shooed away.

(10:47) No not weird at all (10:47) It’s perfectly natural for an insane person (10:48) Didn’t you go drinking last night? (10:48) And then you went for a jog this morning? (10:49) You might just be more scary than a murderer (10:50) Scratch that (10:50) This seems like text book serial killer behavior (10:51) Bet this is how you scope out your targets

The coffee finished brewing and Eddie starting pouring it and it was only then he realized the wall he’d sent Steve accusing him of being a killer. It looked like texts from a crazy person. He looked crazy. His friends had complained more than once about him sending these streams of texts instead of keeping it all in one response. Steve was going to see that and leave him on read, or just block his number.

[10:57] Damn guess I better come up with a new tactic.

Eddie didn’t realize how hard he was smiling until he tried to drink and spilled hot coffee on himself. Alarms were ringing in his head again but he might as well be deaf.

Part 2

[gch1995]

I just turned 28 years old last month, and it really is gross, overrated, and stupid just how much the US glorifies the 18-25 year old crowd. It’s really sad how the media starts treating you as “early middle-aged” as soon as you turn 26, especially those of us who are women.

As if the majority of us were really all that developed, fun, fulfilled, happy, self-confident, and emotionally mature in our late-teens to early twenties as the media often portrayed us in movies…In reality many of us had barely finished puberty, or were still finishing it, didn’t know what the future held, felt deeply insecure, felt deeply lonely, feared commitment, got offended too easily, had our heads in books for school, and didn’t put too much effort into being physically healthy with shitty food options…

As if the majority of us who are relatively healthy, well-adjusted, and practical Millennials aren’t going to live another 40-60 something years before we die of aging related illnesses or natural causes somewhere between our 80s-90s…That actually means 40-45 years old is when the “middle” technically starts, but the media so often encourages for those of us in our late twenties to thirties to start viewing ourselves as “middle aged.” Just because we’re no longer “baby” adult Zoomers, it doesn’t mean we’re past our physical prime. I’d argue we’re even more in it than we were in our early twenties, but the US media will never admit that because it’s too shallow and creepily youth obsessed.

As if we still haven’t spent more years as a legal minor than a legal adult by the time we reach our 30th birthdays…

As if many of us between our late twenties to mid-thirties (sometimes, even late thirties-early forties) still don’t often get asked to see IDs by bartenders at bars and restaurants when we ask for a drink, and often look physically interchangeable with people between their late-teens to mid-twenties, anyway…

As if many of us between our late 20s-30s still don’t get viewed as “kids” by our Gen X and Boomer coworkers at our jobs, anyway…

As if the average woman of 35+ isn’t still far more likely to naturally and safely carry a perfectly healthy baby to full term with minimal to nonexistent complications up until we reach our late 40s. No, the media encourages those of us who are young women to have a complete meltdown over such a low increase in risks for that usually only start to outweigh the positives a whole decade after our 35th birthday as soon as we turn 30.

I could go on and on, but yeah, you’re not even at the halfway point in life until you reach your 40s. Those of us who are younger Millennials/Zillennials in our late 20s-early 30s still have between another 6-18 years before we get there, and elder Millennials have just barely started “middle age.” In a way, you could argue that they are technically still a part of the young adulthood cohort, too. They are still in their early 40s, perimenopause usually doesn’t start in women until the late forties, and a number of sociologists and psychologists don’t even begin referring to people as “middle age” until they reach 45.

I think it's really funny when tumblr posts are like we need characters that are old pathetic washed up elderly losers with their entire lives behind them lamenting the fact that they wasted their time on earth and have no future as the end draws near. Like 28 years olds or something.

[xan-izme]

Double Life 12 (ATSV x Reader x Batfam)

A/n: Just a chapter full of fluff for now(Or is it 🤡)

Part 11, Part 13

You stared at the therapist with a blank expression. Irritation was clear in your eyes. Your defining silence and small glare did not affect the therapist.

"I was told by your father, that this isn't your first session with a therapist." The therapist, Mrs. Dean spoke with a firm yet soft tone. She very beautiful. Maybe in her early to mid 30's. Her hair up in a neat bun, but some curls managed to poke out in a graceful way.

". . . yeah." You gave a short response.

"Well, you already know the drill. So, I'll dive right in. You originally lived in New York. How are you adjusting to Gotham." Mrs. Dean crossed one leg over the other while waiting for your response.

"It's okay." Your eyes seemed to be more interested in looking around the office.

Mrs. Dean nods and intertwined her fingers while letting her hands lay on her lap. "And school? I've heard your practically a genius."

"I guess." You spot a hand drawn picture on Mrs. Deans desk along with a little teddy bear. There was a small corner that looked like it was for kids. It had dolls. Other types of toys. A small table for kids.

Mrs. Dean noticed you looking at her little kid corner. "I work with a lot of kids that your age and younger. It helps the younger kids feel more comfortable."

You nod and let out a small thoughtful hum and focused your eyes back on Mrs. Dean.

Mrs. Dean gives you a small smile. "Back to you."

Bruce had put you into therapy. Which you were not happy about of course. You didn't need therapy. It made you feel weak, and it's not like you can tell your therapist everything. Most of your trauma was due to your life as Spiderwoman.

You got back from your session. Walking into the manor your hit with the smell of fresh baked sweets. You get curious and walked into the kitchen where you see Alfred baking and Damian doing his homework on the counter.

"Hmm. Smells good." You spoke as you walked into the kitchen.

"Sister!" Damian spoke up. His tone with slight excitement. You walked over and ruffled Damians head. "Hey cupcake." You mumbled with a small soft smile. Damian turned his head up to you as you wrapped your arm around the youngers shoulder.

"Ah, Ms. Y/n. How was your therapy session?" Alfred spoke as he pulled out the first batch of cookies from the oven.

"Oh, it was great. Had a wonderful time." Your tone was clear with sarcasm.

"Seriously?" Damian piped up, seemingly not taking your sarcasm into note. You chuckled as you smiled down at Damian. "Your funny cupcake." You ruffled his head once more and smuggled him with a hug and kisses.

"Ugh- stop!" Damian struggled to push you away. You were surprisingly strong. (He wasn't actually even trying)

Alfred watched the sweet scene in front of him with s fond smile upon his face.

Jason walked in. Looking like he just woke up with messy hair while wearing boxers.

"Where's my kisses?" Jason spoke up while staring at you and Damian. You and Damian frown at the sight of Jason.

"I can punch you." You gave the older man a "sweet" smile as you held Damian close to you.

Jason flipped you off while Alfred had his backed turned. Which you and Damian returned by flipping him off together.

You and Damian were watching a drama show while eating popcorn. It was fairly silent. Damian had his head on your shoulder while you had your head on his.

". . .Sister." Damian spoke up in a quite tone while you two kept your eyes on the tv. You let out a small hum of acknowledgement.

"Do you hate it here?"

Damians question made you pause. You lean your head away from his to look at him. Your brows furrowed. "Why would you think that cupcake?''

Damian stared up at you, his expression a little sad but mainly conflicted. Wondering if he should tell you what was on his mind. Worried if he does say what was on his mind, whatever you respond with might confirm with what he asked. "Well. . . I overheard the argument you and father had."

You let out a sigh while turning your head away, clenching your jaw. "Right. That."

Damian frowns and held his head down. You turn your head back to stare down at Damian with small frown. ". . . Hey. Look at me."

Damian slowly looks up at you. Expecting some sort of deep frown or a sad look on your face. But he's greeted with your usual soft smile.

"What I said to Bruce was. . . wrong. I didn't mean it. But most importantly. I don't want you thinking I hate being here. I got you here with me, what's to hate?" You pinched his nose and hugged him. Damian hugs back while letting out a small sigh of relief.

While hugging Damian, you glanced down and see a bruise underneath back of his shirt. You frown and lean away from the hug to tug on the shirt and get a better look at the bruise.

"What is this?" Your tone turned protective. Damian was quick to pull away.

"Nothing! . . . I bumped into a bookshelf pretty hard in the library yesterday."

"Oh. . . Okay." You still had a small doubtful look on your face. A still a little worried.

A week goes by and your back in Ms. Deans office.

"So, do you have any friends?" Mrs. Deans asked with a small smile.

You were seated across from Mrs. Dean. "Yeah."

Mrs. Dean nods. "You don't talk much about them."

"They don't live here in Gotham. But we keep in contact." You were referring to your friends in the Society. It was a lie about keeping in contact part. Of course, you knew you were the problem for that.

"I see. Have you tried to make friends here in Gotham? In school or outside of school?"

You shook your head with a small bitter smile. "A lot of people already know I'm Bruce's daughter. Hard to make friends who, actually want to be friends. You know?"

Mrs. Dean nods in understanding before asking another question. "I'm sure there are a lot of pros to being Bruce Wayne's daughter."

You let out a chuckle. "Yeah. I got a little brother. A dad. Money. I was broke as hell."

Mrs. Dean chuckled at the last part.

"Anything I want I could ask for. I can get it. . . But sometimes I want go to the past."

Mrs. Dean's brow raised at your words. "Now why is that."

You paused for a moment. You had a faraway look on your face as you spoke. "Everything before. . ." You sighed as your mind wondered back to her.

"Never mind." You mumbled as you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. Mrs. Dean seems to already know what you were about to say. But she doesn't press you about it. Not yet at least.

"You mentioned your brother?" Mrs. Dean thankfully changed the subject. She watches your uneasy expression turn into a fond smile. "Damian. Yeah. He's a tough one. He acts so tough and mature, but in truth he's just a little baby. We weren't close at first. . . he actually hated me."

You chuckled to yourself as you thought back to your first encounter with Damian.

"What changed?" Mrs. Dean tilted her head.

You seem to think deeply about her question. ". . . I guess I kind of saw myself in him."

Mrs. Dean became more interested by your words.

"I used to do that too when I was younger. I acted like an adult. Thought if I did that people on the streets would take me more seriously. No one would mess with me if I acted tough." You had that faraway look on your face again. Thinking back to the past.

"I never really got to act like a kid. Felt like that was the only way to be taken seriously by others. To be trusted to do things on your own. I saw that In Damian. But that's not how a kid should act or worry about." You held your head high and gave Mrs. Dean a confident look.

"I don't want him to worry about stuff a 12 your old shouldn't even worry about. I know I probably can't give him what he already has. But I got my love. And that should be enough. . . right?"

Mrs. Dean smiled. "Yes. I'm sure your love is enough."

"Ugh, why the hell is this level so hard." You grumbled as you set down the controller. Getting frustrated over a game and a certain level you couldn't pass.

Tim chucked as he watched you stress over it. Jason right behind him reading a book. "How long have you been stuck on this level?"

"A week." You mumbled as you turn to look at Tim. Catching Jason make an amused face at your frustration.

"Shut up Jason." You glared at the older.

"Wha- I didn't even say anything!" Jason looked offended.

"Your stupid face did." You huffed in annoyance. Tim laughed and hopped over the couch and sat next to you. "Can I help?"

Your eyes lit up with hope. "Oh my gosh really?" Tim gave you a smile and nods. "Yes! please help."

Since Tim already played this game and finished it. He showed you multiple ways to beat this level. You had fun with Tim. You and Jason would argue here and there. But overall, it was fun.

As it got dark. Tim and Jason suddenly got an Alert on their phones. "Sorry Y/n. Me and Jason have to go. But I'll play with you next week."

You were a little sad. And confused at the sudden rush, but you understood. "Oh, okay. Bye."

Jason ruffled your head as he followed behind Tim. "Hey!"

Jason quickly ran out the room as you threw a pillow towards him.

"Do you ever feel left out?" Mrs. Dean asked as she watched you play with a small ball you picked out from the kids corner.

"Left out? No not really." You tossed the ball up in the air and caught it.

"How about I sum out the question. Do you feel left out in your family? With the Waynes I mean."

You hum as you thought about it. "Sometimes, I guess. Everyone treats me good. But I kind of feel like, an outsider sometimes."

"Do you think it's because of the way you were raised that you assume that. Suddenly living one life then now to this." Mrs. Dean watched as you let her words sink in.

"Yeah. I guess so. They knew each other longer and stuff. So that's probably why I feel that way. . . but. It kind of feels like something more."

Mrs. Dean's Brow raised "Why do you think that?"

You shrugged as you fumbled with the small ball in your hands. "It's like they all have this, thing. Like a bond with each other that I probably won't understand. . ." You seemed to think about it before shrugging "Maybe because they are all guys? I heard fathers have deeper connections with their sons."

Mrs. Dean hums and leans back into her chair. "Well, that can be some cases. Do you think Mr. Wayne doesn't pay much attention to you than your brothers?"

You shook your head. "No, he gives me attention. He's. . . a good man. He wouldn't neglect any of his kids. He's also a busy guy. So, if he's not around much I don't hold it against him."

Mrs. Dean nods. "You seem to be a very open-minded person."

It was late in the night when you had awoken from a nightmare. You tried to go back to sleep. But your mind betrayed you. Keeping you up and refusing you sleep for what felt like hours.

So, you wondered downstairs. In hopes of getting something that could make you fall asleep. You slowly enter the kitchen that was engulfed in darkness. Before you could reach for the light switch. The light was turned on by another.

"Ms. Y/n."

It was Alfred.

"Hey Alfred. Sorry I just came for something to drink." You mumbled as you approached the fridge.

"A nightmare?" Alfreds question caused you to pause. "How did you-"

"I know the look of a child who has come out from a bad dream Ms. Y/n." Alfred shooed you to sit at the counter as he made you a warm drink.

You just sat in silence as Alfred spoke.

"Do you usually get nightmares?" Alfred still has his back turned to you as he made your drink. ". . . Sometimes. Nothing too bad. Just need to lay off the horror films I guess." You let out a small chuckle.

"I see. Your father had a lot of nightmares as well when he was around master Dameon's age." Alfred slides the cup to you. You take the warm cup into your cold hands. The warmth sending a sort of satiation through you.

"Bruce?" You took a sip from the warm drink as you eyed the Butler. Alfred nods as he turns to clean up. "Especially after Master Bruce's parents passed."

Your expression dropped slightly. Both parents at such a young age.

"Must have been hard." You mumbled as you thought to yourself.

Alfred glanced to your slight glum expression.

"Yes. Same for Master Dick, and Master Tim. Along with Master Jason. All boys lost their parents at young ages. Master Damians mother left him with Bruce after the death of his grandfather. It took him awhile to move on after that."

You stayed silent as Alfred spoke.

". . . Why are you telling me this." You were lean back against your chair as you stared up at Alfred with slight confusion.

Alfred turned back around and handed you a treat.

"Everyone here has lost someone. Your brothers and Master Bruce will understand your pain. You don't need to hide it."

And with that the butler walked off back to where he had come from. Leaving you to let his words sink in.

"You have trust issues."

You couldn't help but let out a chuckle at Mrs. Dean's words. "Whoa, I just got here. And I'm very trusting. I'm here talking to you. I tell you my feelings and thoughts."

"Yes. But you don't tell me the full truth. Which I don't expect you to. But having trust issues doesn't mean you don't trust someone when it comes to talking about your feelings and thoughts. Trusting someone with yourself is different with trusting yourself with another. You, Y/n don't trust yourself."

"What are you going on about." You lean back into the chair as you gave Mrs. Dean a look of confusion.

"You don't trust that you would do the right thing. You don't trust yourself when it comes to situations that involve you being needed. You make yourself look bad, but not too bad to the point where others don't trust you." Mrs. Dean flips a page from her clip bored.

"You always talked about others in a good honest light. I ask a question about you, and you would either answer in short answers or divert the conversation about another."

"Come on now. It's not like that." You chuckled a little with a lazy smile. Mrs. Dean narrows at how nonchalant you're acting. You're acting. You're a good actor. And she sees it.

And you know she knows.

You are acting smug about it. But why. Why are you playing around like this-

Mrs. Dean catches you glancing to the teddy bear on her desk with a knowing look.

You smirked as you see realization creep upon Mrs. Dean.

There was a nanny-cam in that toy bear. You spotted it on day one. Yet you didn't say anything. You spoke about your thoughts and feelings to her. Most of it was true as well. You were yourself in the sessions you had with her.

You did all that while knowing of the nanny-cam.

"How did you. . ." Mrs. Dean spoke in a low tone. Almost like a whisper as she stared at you with wide eyes.

You simply smiled. "Like you said. I'm practically a genius."

---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---___---

@huening-ly, @mariadvorak @superherosdystopiafreak @chelluv, @houseissofine, @esposadomd, @greyeyedmockingbird, @1-800-daisy, @c0c0-puffsxxx @arthurswife @h0rr0r-10ver-69 @josiepapen @natashanice165 @amber-content @mahbeanz @azurewisteria @seraph101 @skepvids @lara20aral @iwasveronica @jackrabbitem @nickey-diano @idonthaveanameforthisacc @sekidekiboombeki @masters-blog

[st4rgzer]

can you do Spencer x fem reader where she doesn't work for the bau but they have been together for like a year and live together and she's really sad that Spencer is gone all the time and always leaves and cancel dates bc of work and it makes her feel unwanted. She tells him this and he gets annoyed and calls her clingy bc he's stressed and then feels so bad and requests a week off work and spends it all with her doing whatever she wants!

CLINGY. (spencer reid)

summary: reader is having a hard time getting the attention and care she needs from her partner, spencer reid.

genre: angst + fluff

cw!: drinking, swearing, feelings of unwontedness

a/n: i went down a slightly different route but i still hope you like it!! tysm for requesting!🫶🏼

you were practically brimming with excitement as you shimmied into a mauve colored silk maxi dress that hugged your figure perfectly. you had your makeup done hours prior and you bought this dress with all the joy in the world. you were giggling in anticipation as the clock ticked closer to 9pm, the hour you and spence had settled on after a week of him canceling and postponing your date. this was a special one. you bought him a beautiful chess set, very valuable. he had had his eyes fixed on it for months, and you bought it for him as a special gift in hopes that he would ease up on you after a few little arguments you had been having over his work. it was just a little rough patch and this date would surely fix everything up back to normal.

time passed as you waited with a glass of wine in your hand for him to get home. the clock struck 11:30 and you started to get worried, he hadn’t answered any of your calls or replied to your texts.

the sound of rattling keys followed by the twist of the doorknob made you jump up. as the door opened, it revealed a very disheveled looking spencer reid, he was in no form ready for a formal dinner.

“spencer” you walked towards him, a prominent look of worry on your face

“what the hell happened? i had to cancel our reservation- i thought you were in trouble! i tried calling you but you gave no signs of life, i was worried sick!” his hands anxiously pushed his hair out of his face as you went on and on.

“can you just- just shut up! okay? stop talking. god you’re suffocating me you are so clingy!” he spoke with annoyance dripping from his words. your mouth fell slightly agape as you processed his words. clingy. he called you clingy, and he told you to shut up. you felt like a fool. the chess set wrapped neatly in purple paper and tied with a black bow that was placed on the kitchen counter, the lipstick stain on the wine glass. you felt like your whole world just fell apart. everything you did was stupid and you felt like a fool, and maybe you were clingy, but you thought that with spencer, you didn’t have to worry about being too much.

you didn’t say a word before turning on your heel and stepping out, running to the bathroom as tears threatened to drop. he tried to reach for you but you were already gone.

he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, cursing to himself. he wasn’t mad at you, he wasn’t annoyed with you, he could never be annoyed at you. you were everything and more to him and he vowed to himself to never take you for granted, but that was exactly what he had done. and he regretted his words the moment they left his mouth.

he knew it was too early and the wound was too fresh to apologize yet, but it killed him to not go running after you and just hold you against him. his heart ached and broke even more when he saw the gift on the counter. he already knew what it was, of course you bought the chess set he had only mentioned once but yet, you remembered.

his head dropped between his arms as he shut his eyes tightly. his frustration was seeping through him, the anger wasn’t aimed at you, it was aimed at him. he spoke without thinking and wasn’t able to control his own emotions, thus making you feel unwanted, a feeling spencer never thought he would invoke in you.

meanwhile, you sat in the bathtub, knees tucked in and pressed against your chest. you squeezed your eyes tightly as tears fell loosely and at a rapid pace. quiet sobs could be heard in the silent room, leaving room for only your thoughts, a perfect recipe for you to spiral.

three knocks interrupted your crying. you looked up and sniffled, wiping your cheeks with your arm before talking

“what do you want” your voice was broken and fraile, hesitant to your annoyed tone.

“can i come in? please?” his voice was soft and gentle, his tone familiar and welcoming. very different from the harsh reid that presented himself to you earlier.

he could hear you sniffle as you hesitated to respond.

“sure…” your voice was uncertain, but it was enough for him to open up the door softly and enter. he sighed at the sight of you curled up in the bathtub. his eyes wide and puppy like, a look of remorse and lament on his face.

he waveringly stepped closer to you, getting into the tub with you. you shifted and let him maneuver you onto him, back pressed against his chest as he held you tightly. you turned your head and looked up at him with red eyes and mascara running down your cheeks, yet he still thought you were the most beautiful girl in the whole world. he tucked loose strands of your hair behind your ear and stroked your head softly, eyes scanning your features before he found a way to articulate his words.

he cleared his throat before talking, “im sorry. i know you probably hate me right now, and i deserve every bit of anger you have towards me, but i want you to know that im sorry. i never meant those words, hell, i shouldn’t have even opened my damn mouth. im stupid for taking your love for granted, because you deserve so much more than what i’ve been giving you recently. but it isn’t because of you, if im mad at anyone its at myself. i love you more than life itself and you should never settle for 2am phonecalls and postponed dates. that being said, you know that its been because of my work and i cant do anything about that, but i can do something else. i told hotch whats been going on over the phone and he agreed to giving me 3 weeks off of work, i know it’s not much but i promise i’ll spend every minute making everything up to you.”

your bottom lip quivered at his heartfelt apology, and you broke down in tears at his overwhelming care for you. you felt stupid for ever doubting him.

“i love you” you said as your head dropped to his chest, his hand rubbed your back soothingly.

“thank you for the chess set, i love it, and i love you even more” he smiled down at you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head

“you’re welcome, i love you too” you sniffled, tiredly speaking as your eyes fluttered shut.

he caressed your hair and felt your heartbeat slow down, followed by quiet snores. he laughed quietly. he sat up slowly and managed to pick you up bridal style without waking you up. he propped you onto the bed and changed you into one of his sleep shirts, the ones you liked. he got into bed with you and covered the both of you with the blanket. you moved in your sleep, missing spencers warmth, curling up to his side. spencers arm came behind you and wrapped around you waist, letting you nestle further into his side. he pressed a kiss onto your forhead before clicking the lamp light off and eventually, falling asleep as-well.

taglist: @ilovesadiesink @sp3ncelle @lvtilzs @sunshine-on-marz

[gayphob1a]

STWG Daily Drabble 11/29/23

prompt: modern au

Eddie is harshly woken by his phone ringing at— JESUS christ, 4:30 AM.

The number isn’t saved in his contacts, and normally he would just let it ring or hang up the call so he could go back to sleep, but his brain is a little fried so early in the morning so he answers it like a reflex.

“Hello?” he asks. He can hear the sleep in his own voice and hopes to god this call isn’t something important that his slow, rough voice will make him look bad for.

“Robin!!”

A very loud, very drunk voice screams the name Eddie doesn’t recognize into the line. He lacks the wherewithal to really sus out what’s happening, so he summons every ounce of intelligence to the best of his ability to mutter: “huh?”

“Robbie I’m so drunk and my phone died. The bartender let me use his to call you. come pick me up.”

The guy is whining directly into Eddie’s ear. it should be annoying, should be grating to his sleep-addled brain, but he can’t help but think he sounds cute.

“Uh, hey man, this isn’t Robin. I think you got the wrong number,” Eddie says.

The guy on the other end of the line goes silent, and Eddie imagines he’s pouting over there, probably too drunk to remember he needs to speak into the phone.

“Hey,” he says. “You okay? Are you going to be able to call this Robin person?”

“I did,” the guy whines again. “You’re not Robin.”

“No, I definitely am not. I’m Eddie. And who are you?”

“I’m Steve. Will you please come pick me up?”

He considers this, chuckling lightly to himself. This Steve sure is trusting. Eddie could be a murderer just waiting for a cute boy like Steve to call him up, and he says as much, but apparently all Steve hears is:

“You think I'm cute? Wait, how can you tell? Are you in the walls or something?”

Is he in the walls? Jesus this guy really is ass blasted, huh. And Eddie can’t leave a fellow bad late night decision maker to fend for himself, can he?

“You sound cute enough sweetheart. sit tight, I'll be there in 15 minutes.”

“mmkay!” Steve sounds purely elated to have Eddie on the way, and hangs up before he has the chance to confirm where he is. It’s no matter really, there’s only one bar in the area that’s open this late, and it seems the bartender picked up on that lacking piece of information as his phone pings with a location pin a minute later.

It’s one of Eddie’s usual haunts so he gets there in 10, familiar with the route and aided by the complete lack of traffic at this hour.

He wonders if in the last 10 minutes Steve has forgotten all about him. He is just a stranger he drunk dialed after all, and Steve’s so far gone his short term memory must be nothing at this point.

But when he pulls up and enters the building, he sees the most beautiful face he’s ever seen alone at the bar. He hopes to any god that will listen that Steve at least remembers his enthusiasm about getting home so he can see the way that elation shows on his handsome features. The bartender who’s been babysitting, and appears to be forcing him to drink water, points to the door and Steve turns around, his face alighting with all the brilliance of precious gemstones.

“Eddie!” He shouts, throwing himself off the stool to stumble over to him. He nearly falls to the ground, but Eddie is there to hold him up.

Their faces are inches apart, and Eddie can’t help but notice the way his drunkenness flushes his cheeks, giving the scattering of moles across his cheeks a beautiful backdrop.

“Hey pretty boy. Let’s get you home, okay? Where do you live?”

“With Robin,” Steve says, his face betraying the fact that he really thinks that’s the answer Eddie needs.

“Mhm,” Eddie patiently hums. “And where does Robin live?”

“With me, silly.”

“Oh boy, you’re really out of it. Why don’t I take you back to my place, get some food in you, charge up your phone, and we’ll go from there.”

“Is food the only thing I'll get in me?” Steve asks, pressing in closer to Eddie’s grasp.

It startles a laugh out of him. One that starts deep in his chest and rolls through his body, throwing his head back and shaking his shoulders.

“Steve, you barely know me. You’re just lucky I happen to be a very nice, very respectful guy, who is going to

feed you and nothing. else.”

Steve pouts a little as Eddie puts an arm around his waist and pulls him out to the car, loading him in the passenger seat and buckling him in.

It seems Steve has zoned out on the ride, either lulled by the movements or, god forbid, incredibly carsick. Either way he sits in silence with his face pressed against the cool glass while Eddie lets him be alone with his thoughts for the short drive home.

Getting up the stairs to Eddie’s apartment is a challenge. It’s like Steve is doing his absolute best to go ass over tea kettle down them. Eddie braces himself behind him, hands on his waist to keep him steady, trying his absolute darndest to ignore the lines of hard muscle under his sweater.

Now is NOT the time.

They make it inside with little incident, Eddie plopping Steve down on the couch to disappear into the kitchen after fishing Steve’s phone out of his pocket and plugging it in next to him.

“So, I’m not much of a cook,” Eddie hollers. “But how do you feel about grilled cheese?”

No answer comes.

“Steve?”

Nothing.

Eddie peeks out of the kitchen to find a snoring Steve, sprawled out on the couch like a starfish. Somehow he’s even cuter like this. It brings a fond smile to Eddie’s face as he covers him in a blanket, tucks a pillow under his head and leaves a trash can by his side just in case.

It’s almost 5:30 now, and the exhaustion hits him all at once. Eddie gives the man sawing logs on his couch one last once over before going back to his own bed and crashing, hoping for at least another hour or two of sleep.

When he wakes, it’s with an unexpected sense of excitement, expecting Steve to be on his couch ready to have a coherent conversation and a real introduction, but when he makes his way out to the living room, Steve is gone, his pillow stacked on top of the neatly folded blanket.

He shouldn’t be sad about this. Steve is, after all, just a stranger who was drunk and couldn’t even remember his own address. He was probably embarrassed, confused, hell maybe even scared to be waking up in a stranger’s house with vague memories of how he got there. He tries to focus on that aspect of the situation, rather than his own disappointment. He does not succeed.

Eddie sits down on the couch, in the very same spot Steve laid his head the night before and wraps himself up in the blanket. He buries his face in it, inhaling the faint scent Steve left on it and wonders why he even cares. It wasn’t as if they had some big whirlwind romance in the span of the hour they were together; but Steve was so sweet, so cute, so excited to see him after speaking on the phone for just a couple minutes. It wasn’t anything more than a random act of kindness, but maybe Eddie wanted it to be.

It’s as Eddie is thinking it over that his phone pings with a message. Eddie groans, it’s probably just Gareth, or maybe the bartender from last night checking that everyone is safe. Though even that is wishful thinking. He checks anyway, trying his best to tamp down any wishful thinking until he sees the unknown number on his screen with one simple word.

[463-291-8275]: Thanks.

Eddie feels a lump in his throat, his chest filling up like a balloon. He doesn’t know what to do, what to say, doesn’t even know if it is Steve, but shit he fucking hopes so.

[Eddie]: Steve? How did you get my number again?

[463-291-8275]: Uhhh… i definitely didn’t try like 10 variations of Robin’s phone number to find the one number i mistyped when i accidentally called you last night

Eddie frantically adds the number to his contacts before texting back, thanking whatever powers that be for giving him another shot.

[Eddie]: Wow I must have left quite the impression on you Stevie 😏

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: you could say that

Eddie smirks to himself, trying to ignore the blush that warms his face at Steve’s words. He tries to come up with what to say next, how to segue into asking him out on a date, but before he can, his phone buzzes with more messages from Steve.

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: so i know this might seem a little strange since we barely talked before i passed out in a drunk heap on your couch

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: thanks for not killing me btw

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: but um would you maybe want to hang out sometime?

Eddie jumps up from the couch, pumping his fist in the air like he just won the lottery. then, like he’s just remembering he lives alone, he yells at no one in particular: “FUCK! YES!” There’s an angry knock on the wall from his neighbor, but he doesn’t care in the slightest.

[Eddie]: idk about that Stevie

He goes to reply in his typical teasing fashion, but Steve’s reply comes in immediately before he can finish the thought.

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: oh

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: i totally get it

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: last night was probably weird for you

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: feel free to block my number i’m so sorry

[Eddie]: Woah, slow your roll there big boy!

[Eddie]: I said I'm not so sure about hanging out with you.

[Eddie]: But only because I’d rather take you out on a date

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: oh

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: Oh!

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: date! yes! date is good

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: i’d love to go on a date!

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: better even

[Drunk Steve 🥵]: i was fighting demons trying not to kiss you in the car last night

Eddie has to set his phone down so he doesn’t throw it to the ground and shatter it, opting instead to fist his hands in the pillow Steve used last night and shove it in his face to scream. He has to regain his composure before he texts back, doing his best to keep cool.

[Eddie]: A date it is then. Can’t wait sweetheart ❤️

[donutz]

Catnap & Dogday being silly with reader

Request from Wattpad—! Here you go Zeki aph☆

—☆You are a smiling critter in this, if u want to know which one(but don't know what animal or insect to pick) you could start out as a sheep!

It’s early in the morning, and the kids have woken up(some of them, those are the early birds).

You and PickyPiggy help out with the breakfast, surprisingly you two never get tired of it.

PickyPiggy is very familiar with food so of course she won't get bored, but you? It can be confusing on why you never get tired.. Of cooking and baking for the kids.

Both of you cook everyday, at least for breakfast. Cooking over 500 pancakes, bacon(sometimes), and eggs isn't thattt bad!!

That's what PickyPiggy and you say.

So while you were cooking pancakes, you were by yourself. PickyPiggy already took care of the bacon. Seems.. Weird. Because y'know, bacon is pork. But she doesn't know that so let's keep it a secret.

You had 400 already done, just 100 left. Then you and Picky have to work together to set the table and place down the plates of food.

You finished pouring out the batter for a few pancakes then sat down somewhere on the couch.

You're cooking for all the kids, but the little ones come first. The little ones are 1-6, the youth is 7-10, then the older ones are 11-17. Why do the little ones wake up earlier? You're not sure.

Since there isn’t anything to watch except Smiling Critter videos. You decide to watch that. While it was playing, you kind of— zoned out..

‘Why don’t I have hands instead of hooves’?

Then Dogday and Catnap came out of nowhere.

“Sheepy”!

“...”

Dogday jumped on you while Catnap crawled on the couch and sat next to you.

“What’cha doin?!” Dogday asked, he was always so interested in what you do in your everyday life. It’s just a routine, sometimes it doesn’t always stick to that but it’s okay.

“Waiting for the pancakes to cook—” While you were speaking, apparently PickyPiggy woke up and wanted to check on the cooking.

“Oh that’s great! Your pancakes are amazing! As always!” Dogday always compliments you on your cooking.

“What’s the ingredients for em? Again..?” And for some reason he couldn’t remember the ingredients every single time you told him. But you don’t mind.

(This is a real recipe by the way you can actually make this, it’s how I make pancakes!) While making eye contact with Picky, you were stating the ingredients.

“So I first use 1 cup of pancake flour”(You can use any, I think, I’m not sure since I’ve been using the same one every time I make pancakes)

“Then a ⅔ cup of water(If the flour looks like it needs more water you can do a full cup!)” You were hand motioning to Picky to flip over the pancakes since they should be done by now. She did it so you don’t have to worry too much, now.

She’s taking care of the pancakes now that you’re explaining the ingredients to a very interested puppy, and a very much listening kitty.

“Then three slices of butter, after getting the pieces I put it in the microwave, for 30 seconds or 1 minute, depending on how big the slices were”

“And to add some yummy flavor to it I use cinnamon, as much as you want really, also if you want to make it really sweet, you can use milk”!

“After putting the ingredients together, you mix 'em up! And now you pour the batter on the griddle, as much as you want”.

“Also if it’s too dry you could add more liquids(any of them, the melted butter, the water, the milk) or if it’s too liquidy you could add more flour”.

“... Wow! Sheepy you’re so cool when it comes to cooking and stuff!” The puppy was wagging his tail at how amazing you were with your knowledge about making food.

Then he gave you a big hug, he was on your left side so you put your left arm around his back.

“Thanks—”

Then Catnap rubbed his head against yours while purring.

Even if Picky is still in the area, she’s too sleepy to process Catnap’s affection.

You didn’t want to sleep here on the couch so you suggested to the polar opposites that, “We should move to our critter bedroom or something”.

While you three were walking to the critter room, remember how I said that some kids were early birds? Yeah, and someee of those kids were out of their bedrooms. So you and Catnap had to deal with having them go back into their rooms, since Dogday isn’t too good at that stuff.

He sometimes gets.. Manipulated by the kids.. They reason with him and tell him that it’s okay to stay out of the rooms. Then he goes, “Okay!” It’s not annoying, but it is annoying that the kids were taking advantage of Dogday’s kindness.

After that frenzy, you guys were actually heading back to the critters’ room.

Luckily, the workers thankfully had sympathy for the critters so you all actually have a place to rest. Even if you don’t need to sleep.

All the critters, except Picky, were playing around in the room. Then your trio came in and walked in on a party. Like a teenage birthday party, it was actually crazy. And somehow Craftycorn was drawing during all of this??

Catnap, Dogday and you were going towards your bed, just sitting on it, watching the madness. There was so much laughing, the room could be mistaken for a bunch of 3 year olds.

Then, KickinChicken threw a pillow and it hit Catnap’s face..

The room went silent, though, Craftycorn was still drawing.

“Oh! Sorry Catnap! I’ll try not to hit you again”!

He slowly turned his head towards the chicken, looking scary as ever.

But then you scratched the underside of his chin with your wrist(since you’re a sheep and have wool) or if your critter actually has hands then you scratched under his chin with your hand.

“Sorry about him, continue.” And then the playing started again.

And yes, Catnap started purring.

[moonlight-records]

Christmas via letters| OP81 (HAC #10)

pairing: op81 x reader

summary: after you break your phone and waiting to buy a new one, you decide the only logical way to contact your boyfriend is via letter for the holiday season.

warning: fluff!

fc: none!

wc: ??

a/n: I FINALLY CAUGHT UP!!! day 10 of moonlight records holiday advent calendar!

day 1 | day 2 | day 3 | day 4 | day 5 | day 6 | day 7 | day 8 | day 9 | current day | day 11

My dearest Oscar,

Oh my dear, Oscar, I do hope this letter finds you well. How these are very troubling times we have entered. I write this letter to you in the darkest of nights as slumber is near impossible. With you thousands of kilometers away my bed is so terribly big and empty and I am so terribly cold when I’m not in your embrace. Oh how I long for your embrace and to see your handsome face again.

Seriously though, hi babe! Did you like that opening? I hope so because that opening put a LOT of brain cells to work and we both know that I typically never have the brain cells. Now, you’re probably wondering why the hell am I sending you a letter when we can text or video call even though you barely answer your mom or me though since you’re always napping or flirting with Lando or Logan but I’m letting that go right now.

I am so glad you asked because my phone is…broken!! Isn’t that SO fun?! Before you ask, I am already one step ahead of you. Imagine it: a cold, bitter, and rainy Tuesday morning. I’m heading to class. Am I running late to class? Yes. Was it because I got myself a sweet treat? I am just a girl babe, just a girl. Anyway, I am making up for a great time and I will be early to my 8:30 class. Well, about that. I’m looking at my phone and I trip over my feet. Phone goes into a pothole puddle and is completely ruined so I have to wait till my next paycheck to buy a new one while trading in my old phone to get like a piss poor discount off my new phone.

I think I sent you a message on Instagram and TikTok from my laptop about it. I forgot that you aren’t on social media often like me which is very valid so I decided to send you a letter! Besides, I’ve always wanted to write Christmas letters but nobody I know wants to write letters anymore so you, my most loyal subject, are going to write Christmas letters with me! If you want, that is but I hope you do! Unless you want to be on social media to talk to your totally amazing, beautiful, funny girlfriend because I would not complain about that. Maybe you’d finally look at all those super funny cat memes I keep sending you! Well, hope to hear from you soon love

With much love,  Y/N

My sweetest Y/N, 

I will not be talking in the 19th century. I don’t think I can do justice compared to you but I can confirm that this letter has found me well and I will cherish it deeply.

Listen babe, you knew that when you decided to accept the first date you gained a very sleepy and polite cat from what the fans are deeming me. This should not be a surprise to you or my mom. Though I am not ignoring your text messages to flirt with Lando! Babe, how could you ever think that I would do such a thing? Lando is just a dork that needs constant supervision. Now Logan, on the other hand…babe that is my emotional support American. Are you telling me I CAN’T flirt with my emotional support American? Come on Y/N, you should’ve known that when you said yes to being my girlfriend that it was me AND Logan. We are obviously a package deal.

You dropped your phone in a pothole puddle? That’s…disgusting oh my god. I actually almost gagged at the thought of you reaching into the puddle to grab your phone. No wonder why my phone hasn’t been blowing up as much, babe I am so sorry. Both about your phone being ruined but also for my lack of checking in. Honestly I’ve just been recharging socially to answer emails and stuff. It’s taking much longer since you’re not here to cuddle me…still not an excuse. I wanna emphasize that I’m not excusing my lack of check in for the past few days. Promise to get better on that.

You know what, when you get your new phone, I will not only have opened all your wonderful videos but I’ll even send some back. Just you watch. Though in the meantime since you do want to send letters this holiday season, I guess we can so, do you have anything fun planned for the holiday season?

Sincerely, Oscar Piastri

Dear Oscar,

You answered!! Oh my god, baby you don’t know how excited I am for this. Also god, please do not remind me about the puddle. The thought still makes me shudder and gag. Though babe, you know me. I am not upset at all with you not answering all the time because it doesn’t really upset me. You know that because I know that you answer when I really need you to, which is like once in a blue moon. Like when I got the flat that one time and you so graciously got me an uber home. That was like what? Three months ago? Besides that, babe, show me a sign of life and I’m content for the day. Though are you admitting that Logan gets more attention than me? I might have to find our dating contract and revise that I get equal amount sir sleepy Piastri. But you’ll send me silly Tiktoks?! Oh Oscar, if you want to marry me, you should just ask me but this is so much better.

Oh! I don’t know. I’m helping mom this weekend decorate since it’s going to be the warmest weekend to handle the outside decorations. I’m going to attempt to help with the inside decorations since mom got grandpa’s Christmas village since we finally cleaned his house out. After that I’m kind of going with the flow, you know? Though mom has trusted me to do all the online shopping this year AKA she sends me screenshots and then tells me to order it with her credit card and hoard everything in my room, so. Eventually I will sit down one day and attempt to wrap though mom will probably redo it.

I know one day my friends want to go ice skating and see Wicked again. Now I am all for seeing Wicked again but ice skating? Babe, I fear if we go ice skating that you’ll get a call from me with all of us in the hospital. We can barely stand on our own two feet on a regular day and I know you’ve seen us. You know how clumsy my friends and I are but ‘tis the season, I guess!

Oh! We’re hosting Christmas this year, which will be very interesting. I mean, we got the space for sure but now that means fighting my cousin’s off so they don’t steal my plushies. Gotta defend ‘Mr. Artbag’ and ‘Sir Giggles’ you know? Do you have any plans for this upcoming holiday season?

Waiting for these cat memes, Y/N

To my darling Y/N,

Oh my dearest Y/N, the thing about our dating contract is that it has sadly ended up with me back in Australia so you cannot have it. Though I am willing to revise the contract to make sure you get an equal amount of attention as Logan, though I need something in exchange. Luckily, I have found the contract and as I review our agreement, I think if I give you an equal amount of attention, you have to let me buy you one thing you want every month. Would you be willing to agree to those terms? I’ll throw in 5 cat memes a week free of charge.

Oh that’ll be fun. My sisters wanted to go shopping and since I haven’t seen them I decided to go with them. I really became the bag holder though I wasn’t that upset because I did manage to find some of your Christmas gifts and actually get them with the assistant of my sisters. AKA they asked me what I was looking for and they found it by some miracle. I wish I had that special touch to find things I need–like mothers do you know? Anyway, besides that I don’t know. Mom’s almost done decorating and dad got the tree since ours sadly broke (we’ve had it for almost 10 years, we needed a new one) and they already decorated the tree. Though I might take Rosie and Basil out to grab some gifts.

Wait, you guys are going ice skating? Well, surprise, I’m actually coming out to visit for a bit. Logan and Lando want to hang out before Logan heads back to the states for the holidays so if you guys could try to schedule that about two weeks later when I’m around, I would love to go with you guys, though I would ask if Lando and Logan could possibly join? I have no issue in becoming a personal ambulance, especially if Lando is going to go ice skating. Save us all.

What are you doing for New Years? If you’re not doing anything, mom and my sisters would love to have you over. They miss you and they’re going insane without you having a phone to text them life updates. To be honest, I also miss waking up to all your messages and memes and getting real time updates about your life. Can I buy you a phone? Please?

Hope you get your new phone soon, Oscar Piastri

To the polite sleepy cat,

I talked to my lawyer about this new agreement in our contract and we have agreed to the terms you are requesting. Though I am not exactly happy with the terms about buying me one gift a month but you promise to send 5 cat memes so it’s fine. Though I will say, I am okay with it just being 5 memes a week free of charge if you cannot find any good cat memes. As long as it is a meme of any sorts I will overlook the buying me something for once a month.

Though on a serious note, YOU’RE COMING TO VISIT?! Oh my god, babe this is the best news I have ever heard. Yeah of course! I already asked the group and they would love to have Logan and Lando join us with ice skating! We were planning on getting dinner after if that’s okay with you guys? We’re not sure where we want to go yet but I’m sure we all can figure something out when we all meet up! Also, yes I made sure I was all bundled up, I’m not that crazy! Besides, I want to be able to smooth my dear boyfriend before the season starts without getting him in trouble for starting the new season a bit under the weather. 

Ha! Jokes on you, I already ordered my phone. I’m just waiting for it to ship because of course it wasn’t in stock when I went to get it in person. You know me, I just need a simple phone so I was going to get the same one as before. Sadly, it seems that my phone has become popular because they sold out in person! Oscar, do you know how devastated I was to venture out on my weekend to find out it’s out of stock? Truly, a dark day for me but my phone should be here before this letter is sent out. Promise that I’ll send you all my funny memes to make up for these lost times.

 As of right now, I don’t think I’m doing anything for New Years. I don’t know what the group wants to do yet but I think they’re all spending the holiday with their significant others so I would love to stay with you and the Piastri family! Are you kidding me? How else am I supposed to see Rosie and Basil? 

Well, this is probably coming around the holiday so, merry Christmas my love.

You’re probably napping, Y/N

To the golden retriever,

Hopefully, this reaches you before I arrive. I’m glad to know that your lawyer agrees with these new terms. Do you accept memes via powerpoint presentations? I have taken some time out of my very very very busy schedule to compile a list of the top ten, not five but ten memes that I have seen this week that I believe you will enjoy. Most of them are from the same meme trending on TikTok but I think these stories are right up your alleyway along with some cat memes. 

I’m glad you were all bundled up. Not that I would personally care if I got sick if it meant getting my mandatory kisses and cuddles that I’ve been longing for. Any trouble is worth it if it’s so I can see you. I’ve spoken to Lando and Logan and they have agreed that planning for dinner would be the best. Lando has done his usual request of no fish please and thank you. Damn. I was hoping that you didn’t order it so that could’ve been the free gift of the month on top of your Christmas presents. Whatever. Buying you a book will be a great second option and you can’t yell at me!

Oh haha, very funny. I knew this was going to be an issue when I brought you home but I’ll let it go, only because that means you’ll give me extra cuddles later for feeling bad. Kidding, kidding, but seriously. I’m glad that you can come over for New Years. It’ll be fun and everyone will be glad to see you.

Also, I appreciate what you did with the lipstick on this letter. Y/N, you truly flatter me. You think so highly of me that you’ll give me a kiss through the letter? Oh, be still my beating heart. I hope you like my washi tape decorations. I know it’s not on the level of kissing a letter but I think for the first time, it’s great. I also hope you like the polaroid attached as well, if it stays attached. Mom is pretty proud at capturing my failure of trying to build a gingerbread house.

See you soon & at New Years Eve, Oscar Piastri

[pedroscurls]

training partners (pt. 11)

summary: hugh tries to keep his thoughts at bay, tries to calm down, but he can't help but worry about you. pairing: hugh jackman x fem!reader warnings: implied age gap (hugh is 55, reader is in late 20s-early 30s), no use of y/n. word count: 2.1k a/n: just a short chapter! needed to have these two make up ASAP bc i miss them lol. gonna be some good fluffy / smutty chapters (to make up for the angst lol) before we get back to it. as always, this is purely fictional! i mean no disrespect to hugh jackman. prev part. - next part.

Hugh watches you leave the hotel room and there’s a part of him that wants to go after you, but there’s an anger that’s still bubbling within him. All he can think about is Jack putting his hands on you. All he can see is that man’s smug face thinking he could get away with the abuse and damage he’s caused you. 

He didn’t realize that your wounds were deeper than what you showed him. Hugh curls his hands into fists, his fingernails digging into the inside of his palm. He needs to calm down, needs to understand it from your perspective. 

But he can’t. 

And every time that he tries to, Jack just appears in his mind. The same smirk he had that night. The threatening tone of voice he had. He should have hit him when he had the chance – his reputation of the “nice guy” be damned. 

He’s pacing the room. He can’t settle down and every few minutes or so, he’ll glance at the door in hopes that you’ll walk through it. 

But you don’t. 

And he’s left feeling disappointed every time. 

He grabs his phone, hovering over your contact name to give you a call, but for some reason, Hugh can’t bring himself up to just press the button. He has to give you your space, even though he doesn’t want to. You haven’t been gone that long – maybe an hour max – but he can’t help but the tug he feels in his chest, the pull that he feels for you. 

So instead of calling you, he just sets his phone in his pocket and turns on the television. Hugh isn’t paying attention, but he needs to have some background noise to drown out the thoughts that swarm his mind. He walks to the patio and sits down on the chair, running a hand over his face in frustration. 

He doesn’t even know where you would have gone – this city still being so new to the both of you. Hugh does glance back into the room and notices that your camera is missing, so he has to wonder if you’re distracting yourself by doing the one thing you love most. 

Hugh shuts his eyes, resting his head back against the chair as he tries to quiet his mind, and tries to meditate to ease the nagging thoughts that linger. He focuses on his breathing, focuses on a center point in the middle of his forehead, but then he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. His eyes fly open and he reaches for his phone, seeing your contact name across the screen and his heart jumps at the sight. 

Hugh opens the message and breathes a sigh of relief. You tell him that you’re heading back and Hugh quickly stands from the chair and grabs his hotel key card to leave the room. He quickly jogs to the elevator and repeatedly presses the down button – he needs to see you and he can’t just wait for you in the room. 

—

This was your first argument with Hugh and you hate it. You hate it because at the center of it all is Jack. Even after all this time, he’s still trying to ruin your life. You knew that Hugh would react the way he did after telling him what you dealt with in your relationship with Jack, but you didn’t expect him to raise his voice and you certainly didn’t expect him to not understand. Hugh had always been very level-headed and had always tried to put himself in other people’s shoes to understand their perspective, but with you and with this topic, he just couldn’t. 

All he could think and see is Jack hitting you. Abusing you. Saying untrue, hurtful things. And you didn’t need Hugh to focus on that. You should have known better and you shouldn’t have expected him to overlook that. 

Truthfully, you had expected (or rather wished) that he would just have pulled you into his arms and tell you that you’re safe with him. You didn’t want to leave the hotel room, didn’t want to leave him but you couldn’t stay either because you knew that if you did, things would have been said that both of you would end up regretting. 

You had only left for over an hour, taking photographs of the city – using your ability to take pictures as a way to distract you, but as the minutes passed, you feel a tug in the center of your chest, a pull in the pit of your stomach. 

You start to miss Hugh, can feel that you’ve already settled down from the emotions you felt during your conversation, so you send him a text that you’re heading back to the hotel. 

—

You climb out of the cab and begin walking inside of the hotel, glancing down at your phone. You let out a sigh when you realize that Hugh hadn’t texted you back and you’re afraid that he’s still angry, still livid that you begin to second guess if coming back was even a good idea. 

But as you slowly look up, you see him standing there with his hands in his pockets and eyes filled with so much relief at the sight of you. The corner of his lips turn upwards and he begins walking towards you, closing the distance and pulling you instantly into his arms. You let out a sigh of relief, cheek resting against his chest as your own arms snake around his frame. 

Hugh presses a soft kiss on the top of your head, using one hand to rub your back. You both stand in the hotel lobby, arms wrapped around each other as you focus on the rhythmic beat of his heart. You can feel tears begin to trickle at the corners of your eyes, so you pull back just enough to look up at him. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry.” 

“I know,” you reply, biting your lower lip. “Can we go back to the room?” 

Hugh nods and presses a soft kiss on your forehead. He pulls away from your arms and takes your bag and camera, draping it over one shoulder as he reaches over to take your hand in his. It doesn’t take long before you both make it back to the hotel room and Hugh’s setting down your things very carefully on the dresser. 

He turns around and looks at you, can see the way your eyes are glistening with unshed tears. Hugh slowly reaches out for your hand and gently pulls you to him, free arm snaking around your waist. 

“I shouldn’t have raised my voice,” Hugh whispers. “I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. I should have just listened and–”

You shake your head and move your own hands to rest on his chest, thumbs brushing against the fabric of his shirt. “I can’t blame you, but I also shouldn’t have left.”

“You had every right to leave.” 

“But I shouldn’t have.”

“You were right. We would have said some things that we both would regret. Space was what we both needed,” Hugh says softly. “I just – I love you so much.” He stares into your eyes, his own tears pooling at the corners. “And I just want to protect you and keep you safe and–” he feels his breath catch in his throat. “I’m sorry.” 

Slowly, you bring a hand up to his cheek and feel him lean into your touch. He turns his head and gently presses a soft kiss on the inside of your wrist before he turns his gaze to you. “Jack is my burden to carry,” you begin. “I told you because I needed you to know that the things he had done is the reason why I am the person I am today. I’m weak. I’m not brave. I’m–”

“You’re the strongest person I know,” Hugh interrupts. “The bravest, the kindest…” he sighs quietly. “I just can’t help but feel protective over you, baby.” 

“You will always be my safe place, Hugh,” you whisper, feeling several tears trickle down your cheek. “But I don’t need you to save me,” you repeat. “I just need you to be here with me.” 

“I am here,” he replies. “I’ll always be here, but I also need you to understand that I can’t help but feel this way too.” You nod slowly, biting your lower lip as Hugh continues to speak. “I don’t ever want to think about you being hurt or even about someone else hurting you… and I can’t–” Hugh sighs. “All I can think about is Jack putting his hands on you, thinking that he still has this much control over you…”

“But he does, Hugh,” you answer. “He still has this much control over me, but I am trying not to let him.”

“I know, baby. I know,” Hugh sighs as he holds you tighter to him. 

“This isn’t your fight, baby,” you whisper. “It’s mine, and I know that I’m in a much better place now. That’s because of you. You give me confidence and the strength that I never knew had always been there.” 

“Okay,” he sighs. “Just know that if he does come back around, I don’t know if I’ll be able to hold back,” Hugh admits. “Just– I love you,” he says softly. “And I don’t ever want to argue with you. I hate it, actually.” 

“I love you too,” you reply. “And I don’t think there’s anyone out there who likes to argue with their partner.” 

Hugh nods, leaning in to peck your lips lightly, bringing a hand to brush the fallen tears from your cheek. “Are we okay?” 

“Yes, Hugh,” you answer. “I’m sorry if I made it seem like we weren’t.” 

“Just don’t ever want to hurt you,” Hugh admits.

“You won’t,” you reply. “I trust you. I’m safe with you.”

Hugh nods and then wraps his arms fully around you, face burying into the crook of your neck. He feels a sense of relief wash over him and more at ease now that you’re back here with him. There’s still a lingering frustration that he feels in the pit of his stomach as his mind drifts to Jack, but all he cares about is having you here with him. 

In his arms. 

“Can we just spend the rest of the day in bed?” you whisper against him and he pulls back just enough to look down at you. 

“Whatever you want to do, baby, we’ll do. You hungry?” 

You nod and then pull him back towards the bed, climbing in and pulling him down with you. “Yeah, but can we just– Can you just hold me for a bit?” 

Hugh smiles and turns on his side, watching you do the same as your back faces him. He comes up to press himself against you from behind as his arm drapes over your waist, resting his cheek against the crook of your neck. Gently, he peppers kisses along your skin and hears you let out a relieved breath. 

“I love you,” he whispers into your ear. “So much that it scares me sometimes.” 

“Me too,” you admit, moving one hand to rest over his own hand that splays against your abdomen. “I’m scared that I’m going to wake up and this would have all been a dream.” 

Hugh shuts his eyes and pulls you closer to him – if he could spend the rest of his days like this, he would die a happy man. “I’d be disappointed if this is all a dream,” he chuckles. 

“Really?” you ask quietly, biting your lower lip as you close your own eyes, resting back against him. 

Hugh nods against you and kisses the back of your shoulder. “You’re the best thing that’s happened to me,” he admits. “Meeting you all those months ago… I didn’t expect that crashing your gym session would lead to this, would lead me to you.” 

“About that…” you giggle, turning to lie on your back as you stare up at him. 

Hugh slowly opens his eyes, staring down at you with an arched brow. “What?” 

“Apparently, we were set up.” 

“What?” he chuckles, brows furrowing in confusion. 

“Our trainer thought we’d hit it off. She just didn’t think we’d get together so fast.” 

Hugh smirks. “Well, I knew the minute I saw you that I wanted to get to know more about you.”

“I was on all fours, Hugh.”

“Exactly,” he winks, hand moving down to rest on your hip. “How could I resist? And then you were listening to The Greatest Showman? It was like a dream come true.” 

“Such a sweet talker,” you tease. 

“Only for you, baby.” Hugh grins, leaning down and pecking your lips as he props his head up on his hand. “Remind me to thank her,” he says. “Because of her, I’ve fallen in love again.”

“You really are the perfect man, aren’t you?” you smile. 

“Hopefully only the perfect man for you, baby,” Hugh whispers, leaning down and capturing your lips with his own.

---

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[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19

Summary: A trip to the thrift store becomes overwhelming for Harris, and you and Eddie have to work as a team. But the real test of your relationship's strength is the crisis that unfolds days later.

Warnings: financial insecurity, school lock-in, missing child, police presence, mention of kidnapping, mention of drug addiction, blood (no gore)

WC: 8.5k

Chapter 19/20

Divider credit to @saradika

Eddie has already been awake for two hours when the phone rings. One part of parenthood that he hadn’t anticipated is that children do not understand the concept of weekends. Harris had flung himself out of his racecar bed promptly at 6:30 in the morning, crawling under Eddie’s sheets and poking his nose until he woke up.

“Har, go back to sleep,” Eddie had grumbled, the last word extended in a whine. One cheek was smushed against his pillow, muffling his complaint. “It’s Saturday; you don’t have school.”

In response, Harris pursed his lips into a perfect pout and used his thumb to peel Eddie’s eyelid open, getting as close to his face as possible. His morning breath was tinged with the scent of chocolate; Eddie groggily made a mental note to better supervise his nighttime teeth brushing routine. 

“‘M hungry.”

That’s how Eddie finds himself pouring his third cup of coffee while his son keeps his eyes glued to the TV screen, watching Doug stutter and stammer in front of Patti. Eddie smiles, a blush creeping into his cheeks when he realizes that that’s probably what he looks like around you.

“‘Lo?” He cradles the receiver between his ear and his shoulder, wincing as he clumsily clinks the carafe into place. There isn’t enough coffee left to slosh over the side, a small miracle in and of itself, although he’ll have to brew some more if the caffeine doesn’t kick in soon.

“Hey, baby.” Your voice is sleepy yet sweet, smoothing all the creases of the morning. “Did I wake you up?”

Eddie laughs and takes a sip from his favorite mug, the one that proudly declares #1 Dad. It’s stained and chipped, but he’ll never throw it out. Wayne had bought it for him on his very first Father’s Day; ironically, Eddie had bought him a #1 Grandpa mug that year, probably from the same kiosk at the mall.

“Not even close,” he says, tongue flicking to the corner of his lip to catch the drip of coffee that’s pooled in the crevice. “Someone was up bright and early this morning.” His gaze flits over to the bowl of Cheerios snug between Harris’s criss-crossed legs, mostly uneaten despite his earlier protests that would make an outsider believe he was starving. “How was your sleep?” he asks, swinging back to your conversation.

You switch the phone from one ear to the other. “It was good. Would’ve been better if you were next to me, though,” you add, twirling the cord around your forefinger. If you could, you would capture the safety of his embrace and bottle it, releasing a bit each time you craved his gentle touch. “I might’ve even let you be the little spoon.”

He balks at this with a playful scoff, nearly spilling his coffee with the sudden movement. “Yeah, right,” he chuckles, licking the side of the mug before the bitter liquid can slide off and hit the ground. “I’ll believe that when I see it.”

Admittedly, his skepticism is rooted in truth; whenever you do get the chance to cuddle in bed, he’s always the one wrapping his arm around your waist, often taking the opportunity to snake a hand up your shirt and let the pads of his fingers brush over your breasts. It isn’t always a display of sexuality or desire–though you can’t say you mind that–but a connection, a way of ensuring that you stay close. 

“Just a few more weeks until we get to find out for ourselves,” you tease, though he needs no reminding. Only sixteen days remain until you officially move in together, and he’s not ashamed to admit that he’s counting down. “Speaking of which,” you continue, glancing at the clock, “I was wondering if you and Harris wanted to do some furniture shopping for his new room.” You knew that he would be keeping his racecar bed; it’s unlikely he’ll part with it until he’s outgrown it completely. “Y’know, a new dresser or nightstand or something.”

There’s an extended pause on Eddie’s side of the line. You think the call dropped and are about to hang up and redial when you hear him say,  “I, um…I don’t get paid until next week…” He nervously scratches the countertop with one fingernail. 

“Oh.” You grapple with a response, trying to strike a balance of empathy without condescension. “Well, I was going to surprise you, but I sold some of Grandma’s old—”

“No way,” Eddie interjects, firmly but not harshly. “I’m not having you spend your money on me. We can just wait until payday.”

“I want to buy this for Harris. I…I probably should have cleared out Grandma’s room months ago, but I couldn’t. I mean, I could, but it felt wrong because I had nothing to put in its place.” You don’t care that you’re babbling on, forging ahead with your impromptu monologue. “It would’ve been too empty, but with you and Harris here, it won’t be empty anymore.”

Eddie tucks his thumbnail between his teeth. “Are you sure?” he prods, not wanting to sound ungrateful. 

“Positive.” You’re much more assured in your reply. “If she knew Harris before she got sick, she would’ve spoiled the hell out of him, anyway.” The moment she saw him happily digging into the Oreos, she would have ensured that the cupboard remained stocked with Double Stuf. “In a way, s’like she gets to spoil him now.”

You can sense Eddie’s resistance tempering with an audible exhale. “He’s an easy kid to love, that’s for sure,” he muses, buying time to process the influx of emotions flooding his body. There’s the obvious gratitude that you’re so eager to take care of his son, but it’s cut with the insecurity of him not being able to do so. If you’re going to buy Harris furniture, it should be because you want to, not because he can’t. What if you hold this against him? What if, in the future, there’s an argument and you fire back with a retort about his shortcomings as a father?

Except…you have never done that. Ever. Not that night in the emergency room, or when you’d found out about the CPS report filed that evening. Not even when Eddie had made it his personal mission to tear you down, pulling insults from the depths and hurling them at you with reckless abandon. 

You hadn’t brought up the way he’d helplessly panicked when confronted with the possibility of Harris’s learning disability, or how he’d let anxiety overtake him when he officially received a classification. With everything the two of you had endured, you’d never once echoed his anxieties about his parenting abilities; it was quite the opposite. With you by his side, he feels as though he can take on whatever challenge life chucks at him. 

“Eds? Is everything okay?” Your tone is thick with concern; Eddie realizes that you probably think you’ve upset him. “We don’t have to go—we can do something else, or—”

“Sweet girl,” he says in one exhale, both to reassure you and to remind himself that you’re his, and he’s yours. Love surges through the phone lines when he speaks. “We can pick you up in an hour, if that works? I should be able to wrangle Harris by then.”

“Y’sure?” And, Christ, how his heart sinks when you shrink inward, reflexively making yourself smaller when you’re worried that you’ve offended someone.

Eddie doesn’t answer you directly, instead, calls out his son’s name. “Hey, Harris?” He frowns when Harris completely ignores him in favor of watching the cartoon. Using his free hand, he cups his mouth in a makeshift megaphone, amplifying his voice. “Harris Wayne Munson!”

The sudden sound jolts him out of his TV-induced stupor. “Huh?” 

“Go get dressed and brush your teeth; we’re gonna go shopping with Ms. Sweetheart!” Eddie grins as Harris turns to him with a wide smile of his own. “C’mon, let’s go!” 

Harris jumps up without further hesitation, inadvertently tossing his bowl from the makeshift table of his legs. Milk splatters, instantly soaking into the carpet, and the Cheerios topple out and land in a soggy pile. “Nooo, my bref-ist!” His big eyes well up with tears. “Daddy, you made me drop my bref-ist!”

“You, uh, wanna deal with that?” You can’t hide your amusement at the usual Munson chaos. 

“Probably should, huh?” Eddie jokes back, stretching the phone cord as far as he can and reaching for the paper towel roll. “I love you, babe. See you in a bit.”

“I love you, Eds,” you tell him. “And Harris, too, of course.”

Some more static and shuffling; then, an energetic voice greets you. “Hi Ms. Sweetheart! Daddy made me drop my bref-ist,” the little boy reports. 

“I’m sorry to hear that, Har.” You’ve perfected the art of mustering up sympathy for children’s not-soearth-shattering issues, a skill that every preschool teacher must possess. “Why don’t you help him clean up? That way, I can see you even faster.”

Harris pauses, mulling over his options. “Yeah, okay! Gotta go! Bye!”

You hear the clunk of him struggling to replace the phone on the hook, followed by Eddie saying, “Let me say good-bye before you hang—” click. 

Pulling your own receiver from your ear, you stare at it with mild amusement. Never a dull moment with my boys. 

Your boys drive up to your building just over an hour later. You stand up from the bench outside the entrance and smooth down your shorts where they’ve creased. 

“Hey, Sweetheart.” Eddie lets the pet name roll off of his tongue. He wants to kiss you as you slide into the passenger seat, but he withholds his affection for Harris’s sake. It seems silly, considering you’ll all be living together, but he doesn’t know how his son will react to the romance aspect of it. Will he be happy? Excited? Disgusted by any display of affection?

You give his hand a subtle squeeze, turning around to greet Harris. “Ready to shop till we drop?”

“Till we drop?” Harris wrinkles his nose, glancing between you and his dad. “Why would we drop?”

“It’s just an expression,” you explain, catching a glimpse of the smile tugging at the corners of Eddie’s mouth. “Just means that we’re going to shop until we’re too tired to shop anymore.”

“I never get tired,” Harris declares, sticking his legs straight out so his flexed feet push up against the back of the driver’s seat, nudging Eddie slightly forward. “Grampa Wayne calls me an ‘Energizer Bunny.’” He bounces up and down in his booster seat to prove his point.

Eddie reaches his right arm around, keeping his left firmly gripping the wheel, as he moves Harris’s feet from where they’re planted into his lower back. “So, Har,” he starts, easing his weight onto the brake as he approaches a red light, “we’re gonna look for a new dresser for you, and maybe a nightstand.” He takes a deep breath as he delivers the news: “That means we’re not making any pit stops for toys. Got it?”

You want to interject, to let Eddie know that you don’t mind splurging on a small treat for Harris, but you bite it back. Whether or not you have the spare funds is irrelevant: this is the boundary he’s set for his son, and you have to respect it, regardless of your desire to spoil him.

Harris, however, does not accept the announcement as readily. “Not even, like, a little one?” he presses, holding his thumb and forefinger a millimeter apart. “Even if I’m really, really good?” He gives a hopeful smile, eyes blinking expectantly.

Eddie looks at you, serving as your cue to provide your input. You nod your approval, trying to hide your delight in being asked to make a parenting decision, regardless of how menial it may seem. He peers up through the rearview mirror at his son’s waiting face. “If you’re really, really good,” he acquiesces, features pinching into a grimace when Harris’s exuberant squeal echoes through the sedan. “You have to use your inside voice and stay next to us the whole time. Deal?”

“Deal,” Harris confirms. “Deal, Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Deal.” Laughter bubbles up inside you and you let it spill out uninhibited. You know that telling a child he can get a toy is an easy part of parenthood, but you silently swear to never take for granted being included in that choice. Harris joins you, though he’s not quite sure why he’s laughing, but your joy is contagious. 

You lean your head against the car window, listening to the buzz of the radio filling the silence. Harris hums along, more on-key than the average five-year-old, which you can safely attribute to him having a musician for a dad.

“I’m not getting a new bed, right?” Harris says with sudden urgency. “Because I wanna keep my racecar bed.”

“Mhm,” you affirm, smiling when Harris relaxes back against the headrest. “Your racecar bed will be in your new room, don’t you worry.”

“Okay.” That response satisfies him until he thinks up another question. “An’ you’re bringing your bed, Daddy?”

Eddie chuckles as he pulls into the Goodwill parking lot. He picks a spot close to the store, right next to a green Ford with a faded “Clinton ‘96” bumper sticker. “Um, no. I’m not bringing my bed.” 

“So are you getting a new bed?” His eyes dart from side to side as he assesses the size of the car. “Where’s it gonna fit?”

“I’m, uh, not buying a new bed, either.” Eddie kills the engine and unbuckles his seatbelt, swiveling to face Harris, who is more confused than ever. “Ms. Sweetheart and I are going to share her bed.”

Harris kicks his feet, processing this new information. “But you didn’t get married yet,” he points out, “so how can you share a bed?”

You rest your palm on Eddie’s forearm in quiet reassurance. “Some people share a bed before they get married,” you explain simply, knowing that less is often more when talking to young children.

“When are you gonna get married?” he asks, more curious than meddling. “Because it’s taking forever. My friends’ mommies and daddies are already married.”

Eddie doesn’t acknowledge the fact that Harris essentially referred to you as his mommy; instead, he slowly exhales. “I’d like to marry Ms. Sweetheart someday, and I think she’d like to marry me, too.” He looks over at you with a sheepish grin, and you give his hand an agreeing squeeze. “But, for now, we’re just going to try out living together. How does that sound?”

“I guess that’s okay.” Harris isn’t completely thrilled with his dad’s response, but he relents anyway.

“While, we’re, uh, on the subject,” Eddie continues, the tips of his ears flushing pink as he carefully considers his words. He chews on the inside of his lower lip. Is he really doing this? Is he opening his son up to this relationship? “You know that Ms. Sweetheart and I love each other very much, right?”

“Mhm.”

“Sometimes,” Eddie continues with only some trepidation, “sometimes, when grown-ups love each other a lot, they hold hands o-or kiss. Would that be weird for you? If Ms. Sweetheart and I held hands, or kissed?”

You avert your gaze, partly from bashfulness but mostly so Harris doesn’t feel any pressure from either of you. 

The little boy looks at the car’s ceiling, centering his focus on the overhead lighting. Finally, with utmost certainty, he declares, “just no tongue-kissing.”

You snort out a laugh while Eddie goes bright red and sputters, “where did you learn about that?”

“Young and Restless,” Harris reports nonchalantly. 

Eddie rubs his eyes, pressing his thumb and forefinger to his lids until his vision blurs. “Remind me to tell Wayne to stop letting him watch the soaps,” he grumbles to you, turning back to his son. “Yeah, no tongue-kissing.”

You easily lace your fingers with Eddie’s as you walk through the front doors of the Goodwill. Harris starts making a beeline for the toys, but Eddie uses his free hand to pivot him in the direction of the furniture department. Harris huffs but complies, trudging alongside you. 

There’s a bright blue nightstand on display that immediately catches his eye. “Look!” he points, smiling so wide that all of his baby teeth are on display, “can I get it? Please?”

Eddie smiles warily, flipping over the white tag hanging from one silver drawer handle. He breathes a small sigh of relief when he sees the price is within the range of what he’d like to spend; rather, what he’d be comfortable asking you to spend. 

“Looks like we’ve got a winner,” he says, posture straightening with the announcement. He runs his fingertips over the surface, checking for any chipping paint or splintering wood, but the finish appears to be intact. “I’ll go tell someone to set it aside for us.”

He sets off in search of an employee, leaving you alone with Harris. You swallow the nervousness building in your throat. You spend nearly every day taking care of children, but you’re suddenly inundated with the memory of losing him at the flea market. Those few minutes when you couldn’t locate him were some of the scariest of your life. 

And yet, it hadn’t prevented Eddie from giving you another chance.

“Are you excited to move in with me, Har?” you ask, reaching out to ruffle his curls.

He nods, then looks straight up at you so that you’re staring at his nostrils. “Ms. Sweetheart?” The position of his neck changes his voice’s pitch so it’s froggy. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Can you marry my daddy?” His eyes shine with potential. “And then you can be my mommy for real?”

You crouch down to his height, heart melting at his request. “Harris, I love your daddy very, very much. And I love you very, very much, too.” You poke his nose gently, and he giggles. “Being married is a big responsibility—”

“‘Sponsibility?”

“Mhm. Responsibility. It means a really important job.” You slide your heart pendant across the chain on your neck anxiously. “And your daddy and I want to make sure that we’re ready for that kind of responsibility before we do anything, okay?”

Harris nods, but you can tell from his crinkled nose and furrowed brows that he doesn’t fully understand. You can’t blame him; it’s an abstract concept, one that even you often have trouble comprehending. “But I can tell you one thing: whenever your daddy wants to propose, I’ll say ‘yes.’” You smile at the thought of Eddie asking you to be his wife. 

“Is that where he gets down on one knee and asks ‘Will you marry me?’” You’re about to respond when he adds, “and then someone runs in and yells about being their long-lost ‘dentical twin?”

Yeah, no more soap operas for Harris. 

Finding a dresser proves to be a much more difficult task than picking out the nightstand. Everything that Harris likes is out of budget, and everything within budget is too worn down or small. There’s one that’s in good condition and isn’t too pricey, but it’s covered in hand-painted unicorns. 

“That’s for girls!” Harris groans, stomping his feet. The last word is stretched in a whine. “I can’t have girl stuff!”

“We can paint over it. Whatever color you want,” you quickly jump in, trying to avoid a meltdown, but your efforts are fruitless. Fat tears stream down his cheeks; he’s already determined that the dresser is tainted. 

“No! No, no, no!” he howls, throwing himself on the floor. He smacks down on his tailbone, fanning his tantrum’s flames. He quiets for a moment, too shocked to cry, but then he’s screaming louder than before. 

It’s as though he’s lost control of his body, arms and legs knocking into the lower shelves without care. You can’t block him in time before he knocks over a lamp—a Nickelodeon-themed one that would have been perfect in his new room, ironically—and it shatters on the ground. Ceramic splinters, scattering across the linoleum like roaches in the light. 

People start to stare, some with sympathetic looks, and some glare angrily at the child daring to interrupt their shopping. Eddie’s face blazes, vision swimming as he wracks his brain for a solution. 

You’re faster, slapping a few bills into Eddie’s palm and jolting him from his thoughts. He watches you scoop Harris off of the floor, trying to avoid his flailing limbs. 

“Go get the nightstand and pay for the lamp,” you tell him, straightforward and precise. “I’ll get him to the car and calm him down. Keys?”

Eddie blinks, the information swirling around him but not quite penetrating the surface. It’s when you hoist Harris onto one hip and balance his weight in one hand, using the other to make a ‘gimme’ motion that it registers. 

“Y-Yeah, sorry.” Eddie fumbles for the car keys and tosses them to you, the two of you working in tandem. A well-oiled machine. You nod gratefully, wincing as Harris’s foot makes contact with your thigh. “I’ll be right out.”

You’re able to bring him to the car, struggling to unlock it and hold on to Harris. After a few failed attempts, you manage to open the passenger door and sit him on the seat. 

“Harris, hey, Harris?” you start, keeping your voice soft and even while trying to pull his attention. His sobs are slowing down but he’s definitely breathing too rapidly for your comfort. “Hey, bud. You’re okay, all right?” You extend your hand and he tentatively places his own palm on top of it. “You wanna give my hand a squeeze?”

He does it, the motion grounding him enough that he can focus on your body in front of him. You don’t want to touch him, knowing that his senses are already overstimulated from the tantrum. Instead, you relax as his squeezing grows stronger and his breaths gradually even out. 

“There ya go, Har. Just like that.” You smile warmly. “That was a really big feeling, huh?”

“Uh-huh.” His voice shakes and hiccups. He swipes at the tears on his cheeks, smudging them into his skin. 

You reach into the center console and grab a tissue, wiping the mucus from his nose and lips. “Good as new.” With no trashcan nearby, you shove the used Kleenex into your pants pocket. “Can you tell me what made you so mad in there?”

“D-Don’t want girl…girl st-stuff,” he stutters through ragged breaths. 

There’s a time and place to discuss the optics of categorizing interests into ‘boy’ and ‘girl,’ but you know better than to have that conversation now. “Oof, that’s why you were angry! That’s a lot to handle.” You gingerly tuck a curl behind his ear. “But, Harris, did you see what happened when you started hitting and kicking?” He shakes his head. “Well, you knocked over a lamp and it broke. You could have gotten hurt, or someone else could have gotten hurt.” 

Harris’s face falls as you speak, absorbing what you’re explaining. “I-I didn’t mean to,” he sniffles. “‘M sorry.”

“I know you didn’t mean to,” you sigh, “sometimes, when we have big feelings like getting angry, we do things we shouldn’t without even realizing.” You pause for a moment, biting your lip as you consider your words. “Do you want to hear what helps me when I have really big feelings and I can’t scream and cry?”

“Mhm.” He nods again, little tongue peeking out to swipe up the tears above his mouth. 

“I take a deep breath and close my eyes,” you start, demonstrating both actions. Inhale for three, exhale for three, and repeat. “And then I picture myself being in my favorite place in the world.” You smile at him, blinking back the sadness that comes with memories of holidays at Grandma’s. “Wanna try it together?”

Harris responds by closing his eyes and breathing in slowly. “Good job, Har,” you softly praise him. “Now breathe out; make sure you’re thinking of your favorite place, okay?”

“Thinkin’ about the zoo,” he whispers, voice raspy from shrieking for so long. “Daddy taked me there and we saw so much animals.”

“Zoos are a lot of fun,” you agree with a laugh. “I’ve never been to the one in Hawkins. Maybe we can go over the summer?”

“Yeah! I wanna show you the flamingos!” His grin stretches across his cheeks “Do you like flamingos?”

Like most people, you don’t have a strong opinion on flamingos, but you respond with an enthusiastic, “I love them!”

“Love who?” Eddie’s voice breaks into the conversation. He’s rolling out the nightstand in a cart, keeping one hand on top of it to hold it steady. “Me?”

You laugh, opening up the back door so he can wedge the furniture next to Harris’s booster seat. “Yes, Eddie. I love you very much, don’t worry,” you tease, seizing the opportunity to inconspicuously check him out. His biceps flex as he maneuvers the nightstand, and you have to tear your gaze from his denim-clad ass when he stands up and triumphantly wipes his hands on his pants. 

“C’mere.” He pulls you in, pursing his lips in an exaggerated pout and planting a smacking kiss on you. 

While you giggle, Harris is not as amused. He claps his hands over his eyes and groans. 

“No tongue-kissing!”

You’re wrapping up storytime, your students fidgeting with their shoelaces—some fidgeting with their friend’s shoelaces—eager to move onto the corresponding art activity Will has planned. 

“Okay, we’re going to use our walking—” Your announcement is cut short by Principal Sinclair’s voice coming over the loudspeaker. Her tone is typically warm and excited, but the way she speaks so sternly sends chills through your entire body. 

“This is a lock-in. All staff and students must remain in their classrooms until notified. I repeat, all staff and students must remain in their classrooms until notified.”

You breathe out, though you’re still concerned about the cause of the lock-in. It’s usually some kind of medical issue that requires emergency services to have unblocked access through the halls. You hope that whatever it is isn’t life-threatening. 

Will locks the door wordlessly, and you repeat your directions to the class. The kids walk to their seats, asking non-stop about what a lock-in means. 

“We just have to stay in the classroom,” you find yourself repeating, losing patience with each iteration. You’re thankful for small miracles; your class has already gone out for recess, which means you don’t have to break that news to them. 

Will is helping the kids glue multicolored strands of crepe paper in the shape of a rainbow, complete with cotton ball clouds. You’re unclogging a bottle of Elmer’s when the classroom phone rings, startling you. You place the glue bottle on the table, promising Joshua that you’ll be right back, and answer it. 

“Hello?”

“We need you to come to the office immediately,” the secretary’s clipped voice informs you. “Bring your personal items. We’ll send someone to assist Will.”

Stupidly, you nod before remembering she can’t see you. “Y-Yes, of course. I’ll be right there.” You hang up, tell Will the plan, and bolt out the door. 

What the hell is going on? Why are they having me break the lock-in to go to the office? You hike your purse higher up your shoulder, trying to ignore the dread pooling in your stomach and creeping up your throat. 

Something is wrong. Something is really, really wrong. 

Your feet can’t carry you fast enough. You nearly stop breathing when you see Eddie pacing in the lobby, Marion and Paula standing off to the side and speaking with Chief Hopper. The two teachers wear matching worried expressions. 

As soon as Eddie spots you, he’s charging over. “Oh, thank God,” he murmurs, throwing his arms around you and hugging you tight. You can feel the tears falling from his eyes, wetting the crook of your neck. His hands squeeze against your back and your shoulder blades as his body is wracked with sobs. 

You weave your fingers through his hair, holding him as close as you can. You’re desperate to know what’s going on, but you doubt he could explain if he tried. Instead, you continue comforting him while Principal Sinclair walks over. 

Her strides are long and purposeful, and she meets your own terrified gaze with her own. “Harris went missing during recess,” she says quietly, “and Mr. Munson let us know that you might be an asset in locating him.”

Harris went missing. Bile inches up your esophagus and you swallow it, wincing at its burn. “Why would he—” You stop mid-sentence; his motive is not important right now. All of your focus needs to be on finding him. 

Chief Hopper approaches you and Eddie, tapping your boyfriend on the shoulder with two fingers. Eddie looks up, wipes his face with the heel of his palm, and clears his throat, but a fresh batch of tears threatens to spill over anyway. 

“We’ve just collected statements from his teachers,” Hopper reports, looking down at his notepad. “They said that nothing seemed out of the ordinary, that Harris was just playing with his friends one moment and then gone the next.”

“No,” Eddie shakes his head. “No, something had to have happened.” Harris had wandered off plenty of times, like at the flea market. The difference was that he was easily found. “If you haven’t found him, then he’s either hiding, or someone…” The thought is too painful to finish. 

Hopper looks over at the principal. “You’re certain that the playground is secure?” He asks her, not accusing, but waiting for confirmation. 

“Yes, absolutely secure,” she affirms, nodding her head. “The gate can only be opened from the inside, so no one can access it off of the street.”

You know this, of course, but it doesn't bring you closer to finding Harris. 

“We’ve taped off the playground,” Hopper continues, “and we’ve got a search squad going now. Considering that Harris has been diagnosed with a disability, we’re beginning this investigation right away.”

“Mr. Munson,” a second officer chimes in, “is there anyone who would be inclined to take your son? Perhaps a non-custodial parent or an estranged relative?”

Eddie’s blood runs cold. “His mom, um, isn’t in the picture. Never has been.”

Hopper cocks one brow. “Never?” he asks disbelievingly. “How soon after he was born did she relinquish her rights?”

“She, um,” Eddie swallows, rubbing his nose in embarrassment, “she never did. Never relinquished her rights, I mean. She just kinda split.”

“So there was no formal agreement that she could no longer be involved in Harris’s life?”

“N-No,” he stammers, shame seeping from every pore. He’d always meant to start the legal proceedings, but that takes time and money…and maybe a small part of him had always hoped she’d come around and do the right thing. 

He looks over at you now, the way you’ve stepped into a mothering role like a puzzle piece. Like any parent, you’d made some mistakes, but you’re also the most compassionate person Eddie has ever known. 

He thinks of the times he’d tried to make his ex get clean, to want to get clean, and to be there for Harris. The weight of disappointment caused his chest to ache every time she’d mumble, “I’m gonna, but not right now” or “I don’t need help.”

Perhaps it’s unfair to compare the two of you; after all, you hadn’t struggled with addiction. But Eddie can’t help himself. You’d loved Harris before you’d even loved him, he realizes. And he’d never had to ask you to. 

“Do you have any contact information for her?” Hopper taps his pen against his notepad. “Nine out of ten times in these situations, the child is with someone they know.”

What about the ‘one’ time? What happens then? Heat pulses in Eddie’s cheeks, sweat beading on his forehead. He doesn’t need Hopper to answer the question; he already knows what that means. 

“It’s from five years ago, so I don’t know if it’s still accurate.” He stumbles over his words, thinking about the last time he’d called her; it was the invitation to Harris’s birthday. “I don’t know it by heart, but I have it in my address book at home.”

Hopper gives a brusque nod to his colleague and to your boss. “We’ll give you a lift. And, uh, it’ll be good to set up your place as a home base.”

“Yeah, yeah, right,” Eddie mumbles, simply going through the motions without processing them. He’s on autopilot, a robotic version of himself. If he was able to fully absorb his surroundings, he would note the irony of him sitting in the back of the cop car because they’re helping him instead of escorting him to the county jail. 

You don’t let go of his hand the entire ride there, your thumb rubbing the soft hairs on his knuckles. “We’re gonna find him,” you whisper reassuringly, pressing a kiss to the back of his hand. 

But Eddie is too embroiled in his own thoughts, imagining every possible tragedy that could have befallen his son. As soon as Hopper pulls up to the apartment complex, Eddie is flying up the stairs, two at a time, unlocking the door as fast as he can. You run in behind him, watching as he flings loose papers and pens from a kitchen drawer. He’s kicked over the boxes he’s already packed; clothes and some of Harris’s toys are scattered across the floor like a poorly-designed booby-trap. 

He holds up the tattered black book, flipping through it until he lands on the right page. “Here. Right here.” He frantically points to an entry at the top, fingertip jabbing into it over and over. 

Hopper takes the book from him, careful not to rip the already weathered materials. He dials the digits and frowns when he’s greeted by the automated we’re sorry, this number is no longer in service, far too chipper for the circumstances. He tries once more in case he dialed incorrectly, but he gets the same message. 

“Disconnected,” he says gruffly, hanging the receiver with a clank. “Is there anyone else?”

Eddie can only shake his head somberly. If Wayne got Harris from school early, he would have told him. He wasn’t even sure how much of Harris’s maternal family knew of his existence, let alone his location. If someone took his son, it was more than likely a complete stranger. 

Hopper’s walkie crackles with static; you and Eddie stiffen with anticipation. “Hey, Chief?” comes from the garbled voice on the other end. 

“I’m here.”

“We’ve got a kid here at the school who says he spoke with Harris Munson right before he went missing today.”

Eddie stands up, walking closer to Hopper. Part of you expects him to grab the walkie and try talking straight to the other officer, but he doesn’t. 

Hopper presses the small black button and speaks. “Copy. Does he know where we might locate him?”

There’s a deafening silence for a few moments; no more than ten seconds pass, but it feels like a lifetime. Finally, there’s some information: “No known location; just says that Harris told him he was having ‘big feelings’ and needed to go to his favorite place.’”

“The zoo,” you murmur aloud, drawing confused looks from both men in the room. “When he got upset on Saturday—at Goodwill—I taught him to do some deep breathing and picture being in his favorite place, and he told me it was the zoo. But I…” you swallow, furrowing your brows, “I told him to picture it, not actually go there.”

“Zoo’s too far for him to walk, and no bus driver is going to let a kid that young ride by himself,” the chief points out. 

You nod, biting your lower lip. “He might not be at the zoo, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t trying to get there.”

Hopper thanks the other officer and turns to you and Eddie. My guys are deploying the search party as we speak.” He takes a deep breath and makes direct eye contact with you and Eddie. “We’ll do everything we can to bring your son back safely.”

Eddie buries his head in his hands, collapsing back against the living room wall and sliding down to the floor. 

You look over at the police chief. “Can we help? Join the search…or something?” Anything besides sitting around and waiting for answers. 

“Absolutely. We’ll keep an officer stationed here in case Harris comes home.” 

You nudge your foot against Eddie’s. “C’mon, babe.” You try to keep strength behind your words, to be what Eddie needs right now, but it gets harder with each passing second. “We’re gonna go look for him.” He looks up and notices that you’ve extended your hand, and he takes it, pulling himself up. 

He doesn’t say a word, but he follows you and Hopper out the door. He’s gnawing on his lips so violently that some skin peels off between his teeth; flecks of blood dotting his usually perfect mouth. 

“We’ve got some time before sunset, so that’s on our side,” Hopper says as he drives back the way he came. “We’ll start in the woods near the school, and we’ll move from there.” He peers back at the two of you through the rearview mirror with a determined gaze.

“My uncle,” Eddie says suddenly, no certain expression on his face. He’s practically catatonic when he talks. “I want Wayne to wait at the apartment. I need to tell him…” If Harris does return home first and sees police officers surrounding the place, he might get scared and run off again.

Hopper scratches at his beard. “We’ll let him know, all right? Don’t worry about that.” He radios the instructions to a colleague, who confirms them and signs off, before pulling into a grassy area and killing the engine. “Let’s go. If Harris is going to come out for anyone, it’ll be you two.” He slams his door and then helps you and Eddie out of the backseat. 

Before you can even begin, you hear a group of people shouting Eddie’s name. You look over to see Jeff, Jess, and Robin waving and walking towards you. 

“We came as soon as we heard,” Robin says, giving you and Eddie a hug. “We’re gonna help you, and we’re not leaving until we find him.”

Jeff offers a tight smile, one hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “We’re here for you man,” he promises, sincerity in its purest form. “Viv is gonna stop by later and I’ll take care of Ettie.”

It’s a kind gesture, but Eddie’s stomach sours at the thought of still searching later. He needs to know that his son is safe now. 

Harris’s name is echoed over and over, bouncing off of trees and shaking the leaves as you and your friends call out for him. 

“Harris!” you cry out, throat raw from your constant shouting. “Harris, it’s Ms. Sweetheart!”

“Harris!” Eddie’s voice is even louder than yours; the power behind it is palpable. “Harris, it’s Daddy! Please come out! You’re not in trouble!” he adds, cognizant of the little boy’s fear of making people mad. 

Every squirrel that darts across the forest floor has you whipping your head around, heart leaping at the prospect of Harris emerging from where he’s hiding. 

He has to be hiding; your mind won’t let you imagine what could happen if the wrong person saw him walking by himself, determined to get to the zoo…

“Harris, Aunt Robin and I will buy you any toy you want!” Jess yells. “And all the ice cream you can eat!”

The five of you take turns making promises to nobody; they’re secrets shared with the wind. Each unanswered call leaves you feeling more defeated, especially with the sun hanging lower in the sky. It will be dark soon, leaving Harris even more vulnerable than he already is.

Will joins the group a few moments later, bringing granola bars, water, and flashlights. You can only stomach about a quarter of your snack, having completely lost your appetite. Eddie doesn’t even bother to eat, fueled by adrenaline rather than food.

“Principal Sinclair is also looking,” Will tells you and Eddie. “She’s with Lucas and Erica over at Merrill Wright’s farm. It’s closer than the zoo, but he’s got some animals, so they wanted to check there.” He pauses, casting his eyes down for a second before looking at Eddie. “Everyone’s helping out with this. They all want to find Harris.”

Tears well up along Eddie’s lash line; he blinks them away to keep his vision clear. “Thanks, man.” He coughs to clear his throat, emotions forcing their way through. “That means a lot.” For a moment, he sees Will as he was when they first met: an overwhelmed little freshman, unsure of his place in high school, let alone in the world.

What if Harris never gets the chance to find himself? What if he doesn’t get to grow up and learn new things, make his own mistakes, figure out who he is?

You put an arm around Eddie, unknowingly pulling him from his intrusive thoughts. “Can you try to drink some water? Please?” You know better than to nag him about eating right now, but the last thing he needs is to get dehydrated.

He cracks open the bottle and takes a few sips, not realizing how thirsty he was until the liquid covers his tongue. He downs it all without taking a breath, the plastic crinkling as he siphons out every last drop of water.

“Take mine,” you tell him, offering it with the best smile you can possibly muster, but he shakes his head.

“You need it, too.” He’s not wrong, but you have no issue letting him drink from your bottle if he’s still thirsty.

You take a sip and pass it to him. “We’ll share.”

Another hour passes, the pink and orange hues becoming deeper purples and reds as the sky darkens with night. Some people start to call it quits, returning home to their own children, breathing secret sighs of relief that they have children to return home to. Your group remains intact; no one is even considering leaving until they physically cannot move any longer.

With just overworked flashlight bulbs illuminating your path, you continue trudging through the woods. Hopper’s shift was over hours ago, but he’s steadfast in his pursuit to find Harris.

Eddie’s exhausted physically and emotionally, feeling like every part of him has been drained and can never be replenished. His son is missing; he might have been kidnapped, and he doesn’t know if or when he’ll see him again. All he wants is to hold him again, to hear his little laugh as he tells a cheesy joke he learned at school, to watch him sound out new words or draw a picture or just fall asleep in his own bed.

Hopper’s walkie crackles; he clutches it tight and holds it so he can hear it clearly.

“Chief, we may have a sighting.”

A light flickers behind Eddie’s eyes; he doesn’t want to get his hopes up, but he can’t help himself. He listens intently as the other officer relays the information.

“Doris Driscoll just went outside to let her cats in for the night, and when they didn’t go inside, she went looking. Found them behind a bush, eating crackers out of a little boy’s hands. He told her his name is Harris. Matches the descriptions the father provided.”

Eddie grabs your hand, gripping it with whatever strength he has left. You feel a surge course through your veins as Hopper motions for you to follow him to his car. He turns on his siren and guns it down the road, swerving in and out of traffic to get to the old woman’s house as fast as he can.

Please, please let him be here, you silently pray, subconsciously screwing your eyes shut and holding your breath. The only thing worse than not knowing where he is might just be a false alarm that he’s been found. 

Hopper slams on the brakes behind an ambulance parked in front of the Driscoll residence, their open doors allowing the fluorescent lights to stream through. Eddie watches, wide-eyed, as an EMT wheels a stretcher over to it. 

A stretcher carrying Harris. 

“Harris!” Eddie cries in simultaneous relief, exuberance, and fear. He instinctively reaches for a door handle, quickly remembering that he’s in a cop car and had to wait for Hopper to let him out from the outside. 

You’re already crying; everything you’d been holding back to maintain a solid resolve for Eddie is crumbling as soon as you’d seen his son. You scramble out of the car, right behind him, and run to where the emergency technicians are treating Harris. 

He’s awake and alert, and he spots the two of you right away. “Daddy! Ms. Sweetheart!” He tries sitting up, but a technician gently guides him to lay down again. “No, that’s my daddy and my almost-mommy!” he protests. “I gotta see them!”

You and Eddie reach him at the same time. He’s covered in dirt; it’s smudge along his cheeks, his arms, and his legs. He’s even managed to get some on the tip of his nose. Some blood is smeared on his right knee where he’s seemed to have scraped it, and the EMTs spray some antiseptic on it and apply a bandage before he can even feel the sting.

“Oh, thank God.” The words rush out of Eddie’s mouth, and he puts his palms on his son’s cheeks and presses kisses all over his face. “You’re okay, you’re okay…” He turns to the technicians, worry pinching his brows together. “He’s okay, right? There’s nothing wrong?” He pushes some of Harris’s damp curls from his forehead. There aren’t any visible bumps or bruises on his face, which eases a bit of his nerves.

One technician nods. “Right now, it seems like he’s just got some minor lacerations, but we’ll run the gamut of tests to rule out more severe injuries.” She looks over at the police chief, who stands a few yards behind you. “We’ll take it from here.”

Hopper gives a small, sad smile; it’s then that you remember that his own child had passed away nearly twenty years ago. She was only a little older than Harris is now. 

Eddie follows your gaze with red-rimmed eyes, the realization setting in for him, too. “Thanks, Chief,” he says, just loud enough so Hopper can hear him. Hopper nods, placing his hat atop his head before walking away.

The EMTs check for any broken or sprained bones, shine lights into Harris’s pupils, and ask him a few simple questions to assess for a concussion. “We’ll have to take him to the hospital, just to be sure,” they say to you and Eddie, “but barring any extenuating circumstances, you should be able to bring him back home tonight.”

“Okay, yeah, okay,” Eddie breathes, crouching down a bit so he’s eye-level with his son. “Har, can you tell us why you ran away from school? You’re not in trouble; I promise.”

Harris looks down at the blanket draped across his lap. “I had really big feelings, and I tried thinking about the zoo like you told me,” he glances at you, “but then the feelings didn’t go away, so I decided to go there.”

You take his small hand in yours. “What were the big feelings?” you ask gently, free of judgment and filled with concern.

He thinks for a second, then states matter-of-factly, “Mad and sad.”

“Mad and sad?”

“Mhm,” he mumbles, wiping at his nose with his free hand. “‘Cause of Ms. Marion and Ms. Paula.”

You freeze, trying to regain your composure before Harris can pick up on your uncertainty. “What happened with your teachers, Har?”

“They were saying mean things about you and Daddy, and it made me mad and sad.”

At the sound of his title, Eddie speaks up. “Mean things about us?”

“Yeah, like, that Ms. Sweetheart is probably teaching you how to read, too,” Harris explains, “and I said that they’re lying, that you’re really smart and read to me all the time. And that Ms. Sweetheart isn’t your teacher; she’s my almost-mommy.”

Eddie clenches his fists, veins prominent as his body goes stiff. His anger isn’t at the insult, but at the way they could speak so brazenly about a child’s family, disregarding the hurt it causes. He doesn’t care what those women think of him, but he’s furious that they upset Harris.

“They keeped laughing and telled me to go play,” Harris continues, getting choked up at the memory. “I tried to do my breathing and my favorite place remembering with Charlie, but it didn’t work. And I got lost going to the zoo–the real zoo, not the one in my imagination–so I hided with the cats until the nice lady found me.”

You and Eddie share heartbroken looks, pushing aside your respective emotions as you tend to the little boy laying in front of you. “Get some rest, Har Bear,” you murmur, kissing the top of his head. “You had a long day.”

He falls asleep after a few minutes, constantly checking to make sure that the two of you are still by his side. As soon as his breathing steadies and his eyes remain closed, Eddie turns to you, exhausted and running on fumes. Wet brown doe eyes pleadingly gaze at you, lids heavy with sleep. You wrap your arms around him, unable to get close enough. He moves slowly, every action a delayed reaction, but he gradually embraces you, too.

“Stay. Please.” The words are muffled by the way his mouth is mashed into your scalp, but you hear them perfectly fine. “And if we get to go home tonight, come back with us. I need you both close to me.”

“Of course.” Your own lips press against his perspiration-soaked shirt collar. “I’ll stay as long as you need me to.” You pull back ever-so-slightly, brushing tears from his cheeks. “He’s safe. He’s safe, and he’s here, and we get to keep spoiling and loving him.”

Eddie absorbs this as best as he can, mind still spinning as the adrenaline crash hits. There’s so much he wants to say, but for right now, he just carves out space in his body for yours. Your light whisper keeps him grounded, pulling hi away from the spiraling that usually overtakes him in times of crisis.

“I’ve got you.”

--

[hopplessilse]

The nanny

Joel miller x f!reader 18+ explicit

Other stories:

Part 2 the nanny

Serie masterlist insta!Joel Dylan's stepfather

Fetish teacher!joel x f!reader

Summary: You've worked for the millers for a while, you love Sarah she's an amazing little girl. Your favorite part of going to his house is being able to see Mr. Miller, and how good he looks in his dress suit.

Warnings: Age gab (in her early 20's, he's middle 40's) pet names, Hard Sex, teabagging, almost got caught, unprotective v in p.

A/N: He has money, he is humble, he has problems with his wife, he loves Sarah and we love him, let him give us good love. if you want a second part let me know sweethearts <3

At the Millers' house, you were drawing with Sarah in the living room, it was afternoon. The Millers almost never asked for your service for many hours, this time it would be all day, until 9 p.m. or until they told you.

Mrs. Miller had an event of her company, which she would attend from 5:30 to 11:00 p.m. On the other side, Mr. Miller worked in the morning but returned home in the afternoon, around 4:00, and would be busy with zoom meetings.So you'd take care of Sarah until he was done.

From the moment you set foot in his house, you found Mr. Miller fascinating. But you were professional and you needed the job, he always treated you well and you were the same, they always asked for your opinion on things, they trusted you in any situation.

He's a good father to Sarah, he's a good husband, despite the constant fights they had lately, he's always respected her, you can see the love he has for her.

Although… You couldn't get it out of your head that day when you were in the pool.

When Mrs. Miller called you to babysit Sarah in the afternoon, you thought you'd be alone, but you'd not. Mr. Miller was working from home. From the pool you could see him through the window that looked out onto his office.

You could see the way he stared at you while he was on the phone, how he looked away from the computer as he typed to check you out. When you took Sarah to bathe and put her on her nap. The way he smiled at you when you went to say goodbye to him, the way he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you close to him to kiss you on the cheek.

Today he would have a morning event at work, something a bit formal. His wife, Mrs. Miller, made him buy a suit. He was a man who liked casual clothes, a pair of jeans, some plaid shirts or simple T-shirts. You were deeply grateful to Mrs. Miller for making him buy that suit, because god—" You never thought he could look better than in his plaid shirts.

He is tall, broad, broad-shouldered, in fact his body is very well proportioned thanks to his work. He is a contractor but before he was dedicated to all the loading and repairing part, now he is more in the area of design and site preparation. although it is still doing repair work. His arms are wide as are his forearms, broad back. You could imagine something else wide.

He had a strong profile, stood out in the most beautiful way, his jaw covered by his dark, grayish beard, and his lips decorated by a mustache that barely touched his upper lip.

And his eyes… Well, his eyes were two big, round dark spheres, which every time they looked at you, made you feel like you were the only person in the room, with that intensity of eye contact that brought you to your knees.

You heard his heavy footsteps down the stairs as he spoke to his wife. You looked up as you felt him enter the living room, right in front of you, wearing dark dress pants, light blue shirt, with the last button open exposing his exquisite tan collar… A dark blue tie hung from his hand.

His hair, fresh out of the shower.

"How do I look like?" he said, adjusting his tie behind his neck

"You look better than in your jeans." His wife got up from the couch to walk over to him and help him tie the knot

He looks good in everything, he looks so good

"And the jacket?" his wife looked him up and down

"I'm not going to wear a jacket," he said, buttoning the last button of his blue shirt

"It's a formal event, you must wear it"

"No, it's too early and hot to wear it" he buttoned the buttons of his sleeves as he walked towards Sarah and you

He sat down in the couch behind Sarah to see what she was doing, while exchanging a few words with her, Mrs. Miller went to get the jacket and threw it to the side of him in the couch, he just looked at her seriously as he leaned on the back of the couch and his legs remained open.

"You take it, and you'll tell me if you don't use it," she told him before going upstairs to her room to get ready

After Mrs. Miller left, the air changed. At least for you it did. You felt Joel's gaze on your neck, a feeling of nerves ran through your entire body, although you decided to ignore the fact that his knee almost touched your shoulder, you decided to give all your concentration to Sarah while she told you about the animals you were painting.

A few hours had passed since Joel had left, Mrs. Miller was about to leave, right at the door saying goodbye to her daughter. She, like Mr. Miller, looked beautiful. She wore a purple dress that highlighted her warm skin.

You had a good time when you were alone with Sarah, one of your favorite activities was playing Taylor Swift music and singing at the top of your lungs. You enjoyed swimming, making brownies, and drawing. She was a quiet, obedient and above all honest girl, she even told you secrets from her school.

She loved being with you. Once on vacation when you weren't working, she asked her parents to talk to you so you could spend the afternoon with her. Despite being 8 years old she was a responsible child with her homework, she always reminded you to do it.

You knew things about her, like she knew things about you. You were best friends.

Hours passed, Joel was already at home, but he was in his office working as he had meetings by call. Normally when one of them arrives you always put Sarah to take a nap and go home, after a long day for everyone it was the best solution to lower her energy.

"I don't want to sleep, I want to get in the pool," Sarah said as she pouted sitting on her bed

"You know the rules, no pool after 6 p.m., and you have to take your nap." You said as you closed the curtains a little and turned on her vanity light

"Can you convince my dad to leave us?" you looked at her and she smiled at you, cocking her small head

"No, I can't," you laughed and saw her eyebrows gather in anger

"He won't say no"

"And why wouldn't he say no" You looked at her with a thoughtful face

"Because he likes you," she smiled at you and her hazel eyes sparkled

You opened your mouth in surprise

"And where do you get that?"

"Because he was telling my mom again that you were one of the best babysitters I've ever had."

"Do you think that?"

"sure" she smiled to you

"Well anyway I can't do it honey, you'll have to take your nap, on the weekend we'll probably be able to swim okay"

She just went to bed with a pout on her face

"Can I at least read the story myself? it's just that I'm not very sleepy."

"Do you want to read it alone?" You took the book off the shelf and gave it to her

She just nodded happily.

"Okay, I'll let you read the book, but you promise you'll fall asleep?" You pointed to it as a warning

"Yes, I promise"

"Little hand" you made your hand a fist, placed your thumb on your lips while extending your pinky finger in her direction, she did the same as you, and they joined their pinky fingers in an embrace.

You walked to her door and waved goodbye, telling her to keep quiet so her dad wouldn't hear her.

You closed her door slowly, then walked down the hall and headed for the stairs. The house was dark, you had left a lamp on the side of the stairs to light them.

Going down the stairs you turned to enter the living room. When you looked up you jumped and put your hand to your chest, Joel was sitting on the couch with only 2 lamps on that reflected a dim light in the room.

He had reports on the coffee table and his laptop was resting on the edge of it. He looked up at you. He was wearing dark square glasses, in his hands he held a notebook and pen and, he was still in his clothes from this morning.

"God!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he said, leaving his notebook and pen on the side of his laptop along with the rest of the papers.

"Don't worry" You got your posture back by watching it from the entrance "I thought you were in your office"

"I was there, but I needed air, I couldn't last another minute"

You both stared at each other, you trying to control your nervousness as he looked you up and down.

"Sarah's already fallen asleep?"

"Yes, she just fell asleep" You walked over to the couch where he was, your bag resting a few feet away from him. You took it, looked at him and just smiled and walked away

His raspy voice rang in your ears.

"Hey, I wanted to know if you couldn't stay another hour" You looked at him confused "I'll be busy with another meeting"

"Oh okay sure, no problem" He just gave you a smile and started typing on his computer, you just sat next to him on the couch, saying nothing.

Sitting next to him, you couldn't help but look at him and see how sexy he looked in the dim light in the room. What would it be like to be loved by him? How would it feel to be touched by him? What would it feel like to kiss him?

No, you can't think that, it's Mr. Miller we're talking about, that's not healthy or right, he's married and has a daughter, a daughter that you take care of in the trust of their house.

The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up below his elbows. You could see the hair in his arms, and his veins underneath them.

He was so focused on what he was doing.He looked calm, you couldn't think why he and his wife were always fighting, you would be very happy by his side.

You came back to reality when his eyes turned to look at you, and a smile appeared on his face. You just settled back on the couch, a nervous smile on your face. Joel stopped writing and leaned back on the back of the chair, and like this morning, his legs spread, his knee touching yours.

"So… How's college going?" He put his left arm behind the couch, leaving his hand behind your shoulder.

"Mmh I… I don't go to college anymore, I graduated a few months ago."

His brows furrowed, "Mmj, and what was your career?"

"Architecture" you smiled as you nodded and looked away from him

"You haven't looked for a job yet"

"Yes, I have, but… Since I'm still new to the field, they don't accept me in any of them" You played with your fingers as you watched them intertwine.

"If you want, you could be an intern in the construction I work in"

You looked at him and your eyes softened "for real"

"Of course" a soft grimace was on his lips, causing his eyes to become small and the edges of their eyes to appear wrinkled.

You just smiled at him in the same way, and when you lowered your head to your lap, you felt his hand, the same hand behind you, caress your hair. You turned to look at him and his eyes wandered over your breasts that were slightly shown by the collar of the shirt, his eyes ran over it until they reached your face.

"You are so beautiful, did you know that?"

His eyes were even darker with the light, his lips parted. It didn't help you stop your thoughts.

"Yes, I know," you said in a whisper as you saw his lips, his face, his eyes

His hand went from being in your hair to being on your cheek. He stroked you with his knuckles slowly, as he watched the places where he caressed you. You didn't take your eyes off him. He came closer to you being inches from your face, while his hands rested on your jaw, following the shape of it to your chin and resting his thumb on your lips.

"You have beautiful lips" His thumb caressed your upper lip to your lower lip slowly.

You didn't know what to do or how to react, you never expected this from him. Why was him this way just now?

He came up to you and left a kiss on your cheek, close to your lips. You could feel his breath brushing your lips. Until you just decided to put your lips together with his.

You closed your eyes to the contact. Your lips moved in time, slowly as he held your face with his left hand.

The kiss only intensified when you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, sliding your hands down his chest. You parted for lack of air, but your foreheads stayed together.

"Is it okay for us to do this?" you asked him, begging him to say yes, that he wanted to kiss you, to feel you… But a little part of you told you it was wrong

"I want it, I've wanted it for a while" He caressed your face and brushed his nose with yours "Do you want it to happen?" He looked straight into your eyes

"Yes.." you swallowed seeing it "But… your wife."

"Don't worry about her, she won't know this happened"

You stared at him gasping for breath, thinking of a million things that could happen. If she found out you would lose your job, you would be embarrassed if your parents knew the reason why they fired you, it would be a torment in your head if they separated because of you. You didn't want to be the other woman, but if it happened one time, you put the feelings aside, you could enjoy it.

You could have this experience and not be left wanting.

You joined your lips with his, making your teeth collide, the kiss was intense, your tongues caressed each other, asking for more. You couldn't help but slide your hand from his chest to his crotch, you felt a bulge through his dark pants. You massaged him up and down, feeling his harder length.

You heard him growl with pleasure from your hand, your movements so soft, your hands on him and your panties getting wetter and wetter.

Your hands went to his belt, undoing it with a speed that showed how impatient you were.

"shh calm down, I know you want this cock inside you honey"

"I want it in my mouth too" you looked at him with puppy eyes as you got off the couch and knelt in front of him, you positioned yourself between his legs and guided your hands to unbutton his pants and unzip him.

"oh baby, you will be the death of me"

He settled better on the couch, he helped you lower his pants, staying in boxers, he placed his right hand on your head, caressing it.

You guided your head and your hand close to his member that was still covered by his boxers. You could perfectly see the shape of its length, the thickness of it. You placed your mouth on it, leaving a trail of kisses along its length on the fabric. A growl left his lips, prompting you to pull the hem of his boxers down a little, making his head peek out.

You turned to look at him, he smiled at you and nodded for you to continue. You licked your lips and placed a kiss on the tip, this made his hips rise a little, he was asking for more, but you wanted to play with him a little before putting him in your mouth.

You stuck out your tongue and ran it along his length as you landed your lips and gently sucked on the sides of his member. Your hands wandered over him, you touched the tip of his head with your right hand and felt how he moved due to the cold contact of your hand on his very warm length.

"Come on baby, show me what that little mouth can do." He told you in a low tone and with his raspy voice.

You pulled down his boxers so you could free his member. Your jaw dropped when you saw it. It was thick, definitely not too long but it wasn't small either, it was a size that you considered perfect. Its length rested on his stomach which was still covered by his blue shirt.

"I know you can take it, show me how well you suck it."

Damn, with that language I would let him do whatever he wanted to me

You took his length with your right hand, a smile forming on your face when you realized that your fingers were not touching your thumb on the other side. first time you had one like this and you were going to enjoy it. You left kisses on the tip and then put the head of his member in your mouth, delicately sucking it, while you heard moans and grunts come out of Joel's mouth.

Both of his hands were placed on your head, urging you to take more of his length into your mouth, and so you did. You opened your lips wider to give him access to more of him, his hands guiding you up and down as a trail of saliva ran down his member. Your right hand didn't stop moving, it followed the same movements as your head.

you wanted to give him more, you wanted him to feel satisfied by your mouth. You took his member from your lips, only touching it with your hand, you looked at him through your eyelashes and you could see how excited he was, his eyes screamed for your attention. You lowered your head so you could kiss his balls.

You put one in your mouth as you slowly sucked him, while your right hand masturbated his member. You looked at him and watched with his head thrown back while moans and moans left his lips. He lowered his head to look you in the eyes, you saw how his teeth pressed together, how his neck would tense and his neck veins would show through his sweaty skin, his eyebrows united in excitement .

You continued sucking and touching his member while he undid the knot of his tie and tossed it aside on the couch.

Joel leaned over to you, pulled his testicles out of your mouth, and grabbed you by your armpits to pull you up.

"I don't want to come in your mouth honey, I need to do it inside you" as he told you that he placed you on his lap, each leg on one side of his hip.

You were wearing a shortboard skirt, so he had easy access to your underwear. With his hands he pulled your skirt up until it folded up to your back, and with both hands he pulled your panties down. You lifted one leg so you could pull it out of your panties and leave them hanging by just one.

He slid his right hand between your legs so he could caress your clit that ached for attention. You moaned at the touch of his calloused fingers on your soft skin. You were so wet that you could feel the remnants of your wetness on your inner thighs.

"Hell sweetheart, does this tight pussy cry for attention?"

You suppressed your moans by biting your lip as you looked straight into his eyes, the only thing you could see in them was your reflection as his eyes were darker than they were, you could see how he needed this as much as you did.

"Just fuck me please," the words came squinting from your lips as little whimpers followed.

Without telling you, he placed you on top of his cock, you felt how he guided the tip in your entrance making you sigh, without further do, he entered you suddenly. You let out a loud moan that caused you to bend over and bite his shoulder so you could silence your scream.

He began to move and penetrate you tightly while holding you firmly by the hips. Your breasts were a few inches from his face, practically bouncing off his chin. The place became a sauna of sweat, moans and gasping breaths from both of you. You straightened up so that you could take control of the situation, seeing your action he let you take control and ride him.

He looked so good from above, you could feel the firmness of his hands, as they traveled from your breasts, to your hips, waist and buttocks squeezing them firmly, he spanked you to encourage you.

"You're so good, God you look so beautiful from here," he said in a voice choked from lack of breath as he approached your breasts and kissed them over the fabric biting a little over the top.

"Shit" you couldn't control your moans, the more you felt your orgasm build, as you watched the gestures on his face, the way his neck tightened, your hands on his hair, on his face as you leaned in to kiss him. A deep kiss that led him to stick you to his chest, hold you in place and penetrate you hard.

His balls bounced off your ass, echoing around the room as it mingled with your whining between his lips.

"I'm coming Joel" his name came out mostly in the form of a moan

"Come on baby, let me hear ya"

Your orgasm hit you hard, you couldn't help but let out a loud moan that echoed through the room, whining coming out of your lips as joel penetrated you mercilessly. Joel's moans were present as he kept pace with his lunges. From one moment to the next you could feel his movements losing pace as moans came out of the back of his throat.

You knew he was about to end when the sound of an engine came through the entrance. You froze, you knew it was his wife, you looked at him and he had his eyes closed as he penetrated you, you knew he was concentrating because he heard him too.

"Joel," your voice cracked from the friction your was receiving.

The grip of his hands around your hips intensified as he opened his eyes and looked at you, his movements were slowing down but you could see through his eyes how he was collapsing little by little.

It wasn't enough a couple more thrusts and the sound of a car door closed, so that he came down hard inside you, silencing his moan on your lips as he penetrated you deeply a couple more times to empty itself completely into you.

Hearing the keys in the lock, you both got up, you fixed your skirt while he quickly buttoned his pants and shirt. You got away from him by taking your things.

Joel adjusted his hair as his wife's heels echoed across the floor of the house.

You could feel Joel's fluids trickle down your inner thighs. You could feel your cheeks red and hot from all the blood that went down your face, the heat you felt emanating from your body.

His wife thanked you for taking care of Sarah. Before leaving you were saying goodbye to his wife and you turned to look at him, he was behind her a few meters away from you, he smiled at you, but this time it was different, it was a smile you had never seen, your eye contact ended with a wink from him.

You didn't know how the hell you were going to work for them.

You didn't know how you were going to walk into that house every day and see him leave, see him come home from work while you take care of his daughter.

But if you knew anything….. This wouldn't be the last time it would happen

[being-addie]

Sunday Resets

Setting aside time for yourself is so important. I don't think people understand how vital it is to pay attention to your body and just take a day to let your body r-e-l-a-x. We're all so busy fighting to reach the top, that while climbing the corporate ladder, we lose ourselves somewhere along the way. Burnout, depression, and monotony come into play when we don't listen to our bodies telling us they need a break.

Once every two weeks or so, on a Sunday, I turn off all my notifications and have a day dedicated to me. Giving my body some TLC, resting and preparing for the next week. If I have plans on a Sunday, such as brunch or a meeting, I shift that day to Saturday, or at the very least, a day where I have at least 4-5 hours to spend leisurely.

Things I like to do on my Sunday resets:

Wake up early/sleep in: Depending on my mood, and how much sleep I've had during the week, I'll either be up at the crack of dawn or still in bed till it's nearly noon. There's no shame in staying in bed till 11:30 if you're particularly exhausted, but I recommend waking up at least before 11 AM because then you'll feel tired and groggy (of course, this doesn't apply to everyone)

Clean my room: I always make my bed without fail, and if my room is messy, then I'll clean it. Clean the vanity table, my desk, closet, art cupboard and bookshelf, and then the bathroom. If my mom needs help around the house, I do that too.

Food: I make myself a good breakfast, taking time to move around the kitchen and just breathe. I'm getting to eat good food, the sun is shining and I'm alive. It's great. Sometimes my dad cooks for the whole family and we just sit and eat together.

The Everything Shower: I take my Everything Shower on Sundays, where I wash my hair, deep condition, use a hair and face mask, exfoliate and do a face massage. I don't shave because I get my waxing done in a salon. I then slather myself in cocoa butter lotion and apply lip balm. Then do my hair routine (curly hair). It takes a few hours, but it's worth it.

The Next Week: I prep for the next week by cooking something I can take to my classes, like granola bars or homemade pita chips. I also sit down and plan my schedule (any dinners, meetings, parties, etc) and make a rough plan of my goals for the week, like assignments and deadlines.

Errands: I usually make a list of things I need to do during the week, like any specific separate groceries that I use, art supplies I'm low on, or needing to top up the air in my tyres. Then I go complete all of those in the afternoon.

Walks: In the evening, I take a walk around the block with a friend. I usually am too busy to do this during the week, so getting some fresh air is always a treat.

Relax: The rest of the evening is spent relaxing. I watch Netflix with my family, chat with my younger sister, read a novel/play the piano/write poetry. We have dinner together and then either watch a movie or just spend the time talking about our week, or the news. It's fun.

Double-check: Before I go to sleep, I make sure to double-check that my work is done, my bag is packed, clothes are folded and all my devices are charged. I'm in bed by 10:30 PM.

Remember that not all Sundays will be like this. Sometimes I'm extremely drained, so I'll sleep in, order food and just lay in bed recuperating. It's okay to take a rest day. This guide is if you want to be more productive, and it helps the week go smoother. Be the person who has their life in charge. You've got this.

<3

[simdertalia]

🌺🌴 ACNH Paradise Planning Set: Part 1 🌴🌺

All the items you'll need to recreate The upstairs of the Paradise Planning office in your TS4 game. Most items came with only 1 swatch each. There are lots of items that I added extra swatches for. *See bottom of item list for links to the handful of items that have already been made in other sets. Set 2 coming very soon!

Sims 4, Base game compatible | 67 items

💡As always, turning the brightness down on my functional lamps will make them look better (not overly bright) due to my vertex paint issue in Blender. I am trying to figure the issue out.

Always suggested: bb.objects ON, it makes placing items much easier. For further placement tweaking, check out the TOOL mod.

Use the scale up & down feature on your keyboard to make the items larger or smaller to your liking. If you have a non-US keyboard, it may be different keys depending on which alphabet it uses.

I hope you enjoy! ☺️ Download below, all in a zip file or pick & choose!

Set contains: Buy: -Bongos | 3 swatches | 1192 poly -Books 1 & 2 | 3 swatches each | 236, & 274 poly -Bookshelf (long) | 3 swatches | 242 poly -Bowl Stack | 7 swatches | 558 poly  -Box 1 | 4 swatch | 78 poly -Box Stack | 1 swatch | 514 poly -Cactus | 3 swatches | 586 poly -Canisters | 5 swatches | 238 poly -Cart | 1 swatch | 1102 poly -Chips Bag | 1 swatch | 276 poly -Chips Bowl | 8 swatches | 866 poly -Coffee Table | 3 swatches | 434 poly -First Aid Kit | 1 swatch | 166 poly -Food Chocolates Plate | 4 swatches | 1982 poly -Large Wood Shelf | 3 swatches | 659 poly -Lei | 1 swatch | 1636 poly -Light Bulb Lamp (turn brightness down in game for best look) | 2 swatches (second swatch is whiter) | 544 poly -Locker 1 & 2 (2 items) | 3 swatches each | 954, & 1288 poly -Magazine Stack 1 & 2 | 3 swatches each | 581, & 421 poly -Mirror | 8 swatches | 986 poly -Notepad & Pen | 5 swatches | 44 poly -Open Magazine | 4 swatches | 140 poly -Paint & Brush | 5 swatches | 332 poly -Party Decoration (wall) | 6 swatches | 1252 poly -Pencil & Pad | 1 swatch | 594 poly -Pen Cup | 1 swatch | 432 poly -Picture Frame 1 | 3 frame colors, 10 images, 30 total swatches | 210 poly -Pillars (3 items, Small, Medium & Large) | 1 swatch each | 312 poly -Pillow Stack | 6 swatches | 1697 poly -Pizza | 2 swatches | 447 poly -Plant 1 | 5 swatches | 1101 poly -Polaroids & Postcard 1 & 2 (2 items) | 2 swatches each | 144, & 176 poly -Pottery | 1 swatch | 382 poly -Rug: Large & Small (2 items) | 2 swatches each (second swatch is brighter) | 480, & 10 poly -Seashell Bowl | 2 swatches | 2214 poly -Small Drawers (slotted) | 3 swatches | 81 poly -Soup Decor (2 items: Steam & No Steam versions) | 24 swatches each | 1270 poly -Spray Paint | 1 swatch | 182 poly -Starfish Bowl | 2 bowl colors, 4 starfish colors, 8 total swatches | 850 poly -Storage Cabinet (2 items: closed door & open door) | 7 swatches each | 222 poly -Storage Chest | 1 swatch | 2022 poly -Teacup (2 items: Steam & No Steam versions) | 11 swatches each | 188 poly -Teapot | 11 swatches | 746 poly -Tissue Box | 9 swatches | 606 poly -Toolbox | 1 swatch | 124 poly -Toolbox 2 | 2 swatches | 822 poly -Trophy | 3 swatches | 1040 poly -Wall Calendar | 1 swatch | 306 poly -Wall Clock | 3 swatches | 458 poly -Wall Flags | 3 swatches | 154 poly -Window Shade | 3 swatches | 124 poly -Wood Crate | 2 swatches | 730 poly -Wood Shelf | 2 swatches | 437 poly -Work Papers | 1 swatch | 83 poly -Wrench | 1 swatch | 124 poly

Build: -Floors Wood | 1 swatches | Wood -Walls Plaster | 2 swatches | Paint

Type “ACNH paradise planning 1” into the search query in build mode to find  quickly. You can always find items like this, just begin typing the title and it will appear.

As always, please let me know if you have any issues!

📁 Download all or pick & choose (SFS, No Ads): HERE

📁 Alt Mega Download (still no ads): HERE

📁 Download on Patreon

Will be public on August 3rd, 2024 💗 Midnight CET

Happy Simming! ✨ Some of my CC is early access. If you like my work, please consider supporting me (all support helps me with managing my chronic pain/illness):

★ Patreon  🎉 ❤️ |★ Ko-Fi  ☕️  ❤️ ★ Instagram📷

Thank you for reblogging ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

@sssvitlanz  @maxismatchccworld @mmoutfitters  @coffee-cc-finds  @itsjessicaccfinds  @gamommypeach  @stargazer-sims-finds  @khelga68  @suricringe  @vaporwavesims  @mystictrance15 @moonglitchccfinds @xlost-in-wonderlandx @jbthedisabledvet

*Veranka's Bakery Window: MediumDouble: This window is recommended if you are recreating this building in TS4.

*Maracas *Steam Diffuser *Wall Certificate *Aroma Diffuser *Soda Cans *Hammock

The rest of my CC

[rowretro]

𝕊𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕪

♡taglist: @firstclassjaylee @laurradoesloveu

♡Warnings: slapping, idk what else.

✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧

✧CHAPTER 1✧

Saturday morning, 11am. Rowan was still deep asleep lost in her strange dreamland. She never wasted her mornings waking up early like a positive healthy person who studies at 6am and gets on her parents good side. She simply can't. Why waste the only 2 days you get to sleep and take a peaceful break on being productive?

Compared to the 5 days she wakes up early, zooming around to freshen up, doing her makeup and going to school, especially these recent days as exams are nearing, and the stress starts taking a toll on her feeble state. 

That's right, exam season, the season I must say all students dread it's insane how a paper of useless questions that won't even be helpful in the future, can cause her to cry, lash out at her laptop every time it takes a while to load, and cause her to lose weight at an unhealthy cost. 

She wasn't going to wake herself up the one time she was sleeping soundly when all these nights she spent cramming and revising, highlighting notes, and trying to solve confuzzling formulas. She preferred her zombie apocalypse dream, where she was eating marshmallows in a rundown building's attic.

"Row! it's 11:47 get your ass up!" Jungwon yelled, no answer "Rowan. You'll have plenty of time to sleep later- we need to go to the mall" Jungwon reasoned as he softly opened the door, peeking in, hoping he's not walking in on anything awkward. To his luck she was buried under her thick duvet, snuggled up against another pillow, and sound asleep.

There's only one way to get her to wake up and come downstairs, all dressed and ready to go outside. "Row- get your fucking ass up now! Heeseung is waking up!"Jungwon finally said as he shut the door of her room, grinning mischievously as he heard her get up, rushing about here and there.

. . .

"I'm ready let's go-" Rowan froze mid sentence as she saw Heeseung sitting on the sofa, Newspaper at hand, Steaming hot tea, in the delicate, expensive teacup on the table before him. He eyed her up and down, eyebrows scrunched at the centre, s if scrutinizing her look.

Hee tended to be pretty protective, of course he was all for her style and love for fashion, but sometimes, all he could see was his little baby sister. Row bit her lip, nervous, hoping she didn't have to change. she was wearing a pretty tight pink top, flounce sleeves with a nice white ribbon in the centre, a rather ballet core top, with a short white skirt to match.

"Where are you off to?" he asked coldly, eyes piercing into her as he studied her makeup, not too natural, heavy on the eyes, visible manga lashes, so definitely not a date. "Jungwon, and I have to buy a few things at the mall-" she said as she turned to Jungwon who just grabbed his car keys. 

Heeseung nodded as he turned to Jungwon "Alright. take care, be back by 6 Won, we have a meeting at 6:30." Heeseung simply said as Jungwon smiled saying ok as he led Rowan out the door.

. . .

Sunghoon hummed to himself as he dried his hair, white t shirt somewhat sticking to his abs, and a nice dark denim pair of jeans that suited his stature very well, practically everything suits him. He smiled to himself as he sprayed a crazy amount of deodorant around himself. 

"ma im heading out with the boys ill be back very late don't know when so don't worry about me ok?" he said as he was about to walk out the building "Why would I worry about you?! im more worried about your sister." she said as Sunghoon playfully pouted "Favouritism much.... "

"No it's not like that... Sunghoon your sister's been getting bullied the past week... since she's joined high school, it's one of those things I was worried about... can't you go ask her what's wrong? like I don't know solve her little issue?" She asked as Sunghoon groaned.

He didn't defy. He couldn't, he'd feel guilty anytime he didn't do something his mother wanted, she wasn't strict or anything, just... she's his mom after all.  "Oi. tell me who he or she or they is." Sunghoon said as he sat beside his sister. Siyeon frowned, taking off her ear piece, as she folded the page.

"Why do you suddenly care?" she asked as Sunghoon shrugged "You're my sister- and I have the power to scare people so just tell me-" he said as the girl rolled her eyes "Fine... her name's Leiko, she's in a few classes above me and she thinks im going after her man- whoever he is... she often wears pink and hangs out at the Hera mall on Saturdays-" She added, waving around some cash as Sunghoon narrowed his eyes.

"give me a description and your problem will be solved within seconds. That girl won't even look in your direction my dear sister~" Sunghoon said with a smile as Siyeon smirked "Black hair, around 5'2 or something, she's probably wearing pink, and she'll most definitely stand out in a crowd." she said as Sunghoon rushed off.

. . .

"You wait here- I'm going to head to the men's room quickly kay?" Jungwon said as Rowan nodded. She stood by a bench, smiling as she admired her newly done nails. The school wasn't too keen on makeup and nails, but her brother's Heeseung so the teachers don't care. Row softly flicked the dangling heart charm on her nail as she could see a dark-haired, charming male heading her way.

She's seen plenty pretty boys before, never one this pretty. Dark, perfect eyes, perfect jawline, plump pink lips, and a very pretty nose, a few moles here and there. Then she realized he was actually heading in her direction. Stopping right before her, his glare piercing, as she froze in her spot.

Just like that. One hard, stinging slap around her face, his big watch making it all the more painful. Sunghoon didn't even have the slap planned when he was going to threaten the said girl... he just felt so... mad. The girl stumbled back, her heels not having mercy on her balance. 

"Come near my sister again and I swear you'll never see the end of this." Sunghoon said as Rowan gasped, annoyed, mad, confused. Before she could even ask, the male had already walked off. Who's sister? why? what did she do? What the fuck? "Fuck Row- your face... who the fuck did this to you?" Jungwon asked, noticing the reddened mark on her face "Let's just go home..." she said, exhausted.

✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧

𝕊𝕠𝕣𝕣𝕪

✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧♡✧

[nostalgiclittlespace]

Wishlist Ideas for Closeted Regressors

So, it’s a little early to be posting holiday stuff, but I wanted to get this out there so since I know a lot of people start their holiday shopping around this time. So, If you’re looking for agere gear as a closeted regressor, or you just want something that’s subtle, here are 12 ideas-with pics. Note: pics are not mine, they are screenshotted from Amazon. prices are in USD, as Im American. Happy regressing and happy holidays!

1.Kawaii water bottles, specifically in the style below. The straw on most of these is a lot like a sippy or bottle, so if you can’t have/don’t want one of those, then these are a great alternative! Just look up ‘kawaii water bottle’ on Amazon and a whole bunch will show up. Most are between $15-25 USD

2. Funko Pops. I actually use mine as action figures and play with them (just be gentle with them if you do this!) so they can be great agere toys and decor! You can find just about any character and any fandom too. The prices very greatly, depending on what character and where you buy from. Black Friday deals on Amazon and Five Below are great ways to find them for only a few dollars.

3. Fidget toys; they can make great Agere activities! Because they are designed to stimulate your senses, many function similarly to baby toys. Note: when buying in bulk packages, the quality isn’t great. So consider whether you want to invest in better quality or quantity. Most bulk fidget packs are about $25 USD on Amazon. Dollar stores often have similar products as well, though once again the quality is unknown.

4. Fleece throw blankets. They are super cute, soft, and cuddly! Not only can they keep you warm, but I like to use mine as a playmat. Once again, price can very greatly; typically anywhere from $10-30 USD

5. Coloring books. I think this one is pretty self explanatory, as lots of regressors love coloring. If you’re worried about rousing suspicion, then just ask for an adult coloring book; these often have more intricate patterns, but if you ask for a fandom themed one, it’ll still have some awesome characters to color! Typically around $5-10

6. Silicone night light. These are available in so many colors, animals, and foods—and they are appropriate for any age, thanks to their kawaii esc appearance; they usually cost about $15.

7. Snack boxes. If your dietary needs allow for it, then these can provide some really cool little space snacks. They’re all pre packaged and come with a wide variety of things, ranging from crackers to cookies. And if you want something unique, you can try snack boxes that feature food from other countries. Prices will vary greatly, mostly dependent on the size

8. Lava lamps. These are just cute and make for a neat visual stim. Plenty of colors to choose from too! If you wanted, it could be used as a sort of substitute as a baby mobile since it’s very colorful and relaxing to watch. These can go for anywhere between $20-40

9. Microwaveable plushies. Super comforting, and for any Littles with cramps or chronic pain, they can be disguised as heating pads. Many of these also come with a scent, typically lavender, though you can find them without too. Cost around $20-40, depending on brand.

10. Scrapbooking materials. Kind of a random one, but they can be used to decorate a journal, you can make a physical photo album like many of us had in our childhoods, etc. Just a fun craft project you can consider! Typically, scrapbooking kits that include some paper, washi tape, and stickers can be around $10-15

11. Onesie pajamas. Lots of options, and are great if you live somewhere cold! Usually $25-40. These can be animal shaped, character themed, or more subtle like a plaid pattern. Very comfy and make for great little space clothes.

12. Glow in the dark stars. They are cute, fun, and aesthetically pleasing. You can get them in a who,e bunch of colors too! Typically $5

[ruggiesbiologicalfather]

i've been struck by inspiration

here's my ranking of twisted wonderland students by how likely i'd be to let them behind the wheel of a car. this is gonna be a long one bc i'm including explanations of course. (and i know that in-game it's rare to be able to drive, we're ignoring that and pretending it's common to drive around)

1. Leona: canonically, he can drive and drive well. i feel like this was an easy one. but it makes sense!

2. Vil: he just has so many random skills that i feel like driving would be no problem at all. honestly, there's not much that i think vil CAN'T do

3. Trey: everything about him screams Responsible Driver. he would definitely play chauffeur for heartslabyul whenever they need to go somewhere. AND he'd have snacks in the glove compartment. 10/10 ride

4. Jamil: he can absolutely drive well - near perfect i'd argue. what's the alternative? let KALIM drive? get real. it's his duty to get where he needs to go safely

5. Jack: the self-discipline that this boy possesses is unrivaled. he would be locked in behind the wheel. he spent so long becoming the best driver he can be and by god, he's gonna prove it

6. Deuce: LISTEN TO ME, LISTEN! he's really good on that blastcycle which is more dangerous and difficult (said as a former bike/atv guy). a car is nothing to him. plus he's on his Honor Student streak so he's trying his best. my only worry is speed. slow it down, friend

7. Epel: similar to deuce. farm kids learn to drive really early in their lives. HOWEVER... driving safely?? hmmmm... his biggest flaws are going too fast and whipping around curves when no one else is on the road

8. Riddle: he would definitely follow all the road rules. to the letter. every trip would take an extra 30 minutes to an hour. no music, windows up, silence. he won't even let YOU be on your phone lest he become distracted. also ROAD RAGE. interstate driving would get very scary

9. Ortho: fuck it, let the robot give it a shot

10. Azul: i feel like once he figured out the mechanics, he would be fine on the road. however, if he got pulled over he would definitely argue with the cop and get us both arrested. so... i'm gonna pass

11. Jade: yes, we're getting where we need to go. but... nefariously. and there's something in the trunk. i feel like he'd also randomly go "oops" just to freak out his passengers. "what do you mean OOPS?" "don't worry about it :)"

12. Ruggie: there's a wildness to my boy that drove his ranking down. he would definitely drive a jeep with the doors off. music blasting, wind whipping around everywhere. it would be a fairly safe drive but not a particularly enjoyable one. also i would fall out

13. Silver: i don't know, i feel like he would be chill. i put him low bc briar valley doesn't have cars so his driving education would be quite scarce and he'd be a new driver. but he could get the job done. probably

14. Sebek: similar to silver but he needs to relax. malleus is fine, we're just going to walmart

15. Ace: he just gives off the vibe of "16-year-old kid in the car his dad bought for him." never lets anyone merge, hits curbs, can never figure out the speed limit, etc, etc. even worse if deuce is in the car! "ace, watch out for the mailbox!" "don't tell me what to- *BANG*"

16. Cater: gay people can't drive

17. Rook: distracted driver. god forbid there's wildlife around, he would turn 180 in his seat to look at it. this Oh Shit Handle is getting some use. also i KNOW his car would be shit. i don't care that his family is rich, he's driving a 2003 hyundai sonata

18. Floyd: LISTEN! there's a 50/50 shot that everything goes perfectly fine. like as long as he's in a good mood, he can get the job done. you definitely just have to check in before you buckle up. get ready to tuck and roll

19. Malleus: what is a car?

20. Idia: there's so much anxiety there i feel like one thing would go slightly left and he'd almost pass out. he's white-knuckling the wheel, praying that no one else is on the road. it's alright buddy, you can be a passenger princess

21. Kalim: No.

22. Grim + Yuu: okay, for this one it's a joint effort. yuu at the wheel and grim on the pedals. there's so much chaos and screaming. four-way stops don't exist. yellow lights are green and red lights are yellow. the horn has not stopped honking since the engine started. this is an emergency situation ONLY. like someone is bleeding out in the backseat and no one is answering their phones

23. Lilia: absolutely not. i will walk