#Owis family

[itmeansiris]

🍄: Oops 😬

[retropopcult]

"Sergeant Franklin Williams, home on leave in Baltimore from Army duty at Fort Bragg, singing with sister Sarah, brother Thomas and best girl Ellen Hardin while his sister Annetta plays the piano." Photographed 1942 by Arthur Rothstein for the Office of War Information.

[luv4sleepy]

Is it acceptable to post edits on tumblr…welp

[gnomebud]

covid again …

[ali3nboyfriend]

standing in doc martens for two hours.... do not fuckin recommend.

[scriptmyworld]

ashton: what was it like? waking up and having them there?

laudna: it was one of the greatest feelings…because it wasn’t like that the first time.

[jmeldog]

“The LORD said, “What have you done? Listen! Your brother’s blood cries out to me from the ground.” Genesis 4:10

[michellemisfit]

It’s barely past lunch time and it’s already been A DAY, so I figured everyone else should also suffer. Sorry not sorry.

Thanks @deedala for finding this video

[cnidariandreams]

[jpchathamandfriends]

When I was young, I thought divorce must have been the worst thing in the world, since my parents were so obviously unhappy with their marriage but divorce was an even worse option for them.

I also thought, that because I was able to listen to their problems with each other and talk them down, it was my responsibility to do that. At 5 years old I was already comforting my mom when my dad didn't buy her the birthday present she wanted, or when he said something thoughtless, because if I didn't then she might have kicked him out of the house for the night. My dad never needed reassurance as much as steering in a direction that wouldn't make my mom angry - don't buy that, don't comment on that, she has a haircut appointment on the calendar for today so make sure you tell her how nice it looks or she might start throwing things.

But because they always used the threat of divorce as a big horrible thing in their arguments, I was also against it. I didn't know enough to know that I didn't know any better! They never split up, partly because of me and my brother, and then eventually because their lives grew together too much. Now my dad has some form of dementia and doesn't watch what he says any more, and he hasn't respected my mom in decades so he can be pretty casually hurtful. And my mom has responded by treating him like a ghost in their own house - the only times she talks to him are to answer questions or tell him he's bothering her. Neither one has the support in place to live without the other, but my dad's going to be miserable and alone in his marriage for the rest of his life, and my mom will be miserable and alone in hers until he goes.

When I was young, I begged them to stay together, because I could see how much they thought it would hurt to split up and it was always my job to stop them from hurting each other. Now, I have the experience to see that they were hurting each other the whole time anyway. I don't think there's anything different that I could have done, with the mind of an elementary school kid. But I wish I had.

WHY are some parents like “ooo we hate each other but we’re staying together for the kids” no no NO you’re fucking fighting and screaming at each other every day you’re traumatizing that fucking kid and making it worse

[itmeansiris]

🍄: Quinn hasn’t forgotten the last incident 😬. It went much better this time.

[mvnces]

❰❰ MEDIC ❱❱ sender bandages receiver’s wounds / @ human decker?? 💋

The stitches were only a couple of days old when he had ripped them open. Doing work around his apartment, it had been an accident and it hurt like an absolute bitch. Maybe it hurt more than it should because the wound was still fresh as were the stitches.

But, with how desensitized he was to blood, the cleanup was easy enough. Decker had wrapped a bandage around it to prevent getting blood all over as he finished his work. Deal with ripped stitches and the blood at a later point in the day. Easy.

He had assumed that he could just manage to stitch up his arm again on his own. It wouldn't be as precise as a medic or a genuine doctor, though. It would keep him from having to make a trip back to the emergency room, at least, and keep him from having to explain to the nurses why he was there. Less than a week since the last time that he had seen them.

It was only the reaction to an off-handed comment he had made to Sarah when she called. (The call was actually, namely, from the girls who wanted Uncle Theo's opinion on their outfits for school). He had gotten three separate voices yelling at him for that — In the end, Sarah had chewed him out to the point that he had agreed to see a doctor to get it properly cleaned out and stitched up. And, well, he was scared of her enough to follow through with it.

"I tried to clean it up as much as I could," Decker offered out after being ushered back into one of the rooms. Silence had hung over them as he watched the other man work, the needle threading his skin back together. Again. He watched as the other man, Dr. Devereaux, cut the thread that had been used for the stitches. The bandages to wrap around his forearm came next. "I won't rip these ones open. Promise."

He would just have to be careful — And dodge Jasper when she was particularly energetic. It would be fine.

"Unless I'd get some sort of frequent visitor pass for next time."

[castielafflicted]

I got home like an hour ago which means I was gone for 56 hours. That is far too many actually! But I am in fact safe and did not forget anything and now can pass the fuck out on my own bed where I don't sink into the bed.

[tojisun]

the apple that rolled over to the tree

!! fluff; f!reader; parenthood!!; simon-centric hehe >:3 // divider by @/plutism!

there is a… kid attached to your hip when simon returns home from a mission, his exhausted body stumbling into the kitchen where he finds you and it.

“what—”

he can’t even fathom the emotion coursing through him at the moment, what with shock triumphing over everything. still, you’d probably need to give him credit for not losing his goddamn mind at seeing a whole child — he couldn’t have been more than two years old with how he’s only three apples tall — clinging to you like a baby koala.

“oh my god, you’re back!” you squeal, unfazed at how dumbfounded your fiance has become, before shuffling close to embrace him.

simon reciprocates the hug anyway.

you step back, your lips still wobbling in your tears as you stare up at him, all awed like you couldn’t believe that he was back and simon wishes he can press his promises to your lips because he will always find a way to come back, he swears on his life, but also—

the child.

“sweetheart?” he begins, soft as to not spook you or the kid. “who’s, uh, who’s that?”

the child shifts, turning his little face from where it was burrowed onto your neck at the sound of simon’s voice. he rests his head on your clavicle, smooshing his already chubby cheek, before the biggest brown eyes that simon’s ever seen stare up at him, all doe-eyed and jarringly innocent, and simon, he—

well, not even babysitting tommy’s kids prepared him for this.

“this is yasha,” you murmur, pulling simon’s attention back to you. “or yakov, or james if he would want an english name.”

the boy reacts to you calling his name, and simon watches as those curious eyes tip up at you in question. you swipe your finger over his nose, the little thing scrunching up at the ticklish feeling, and simon becomes breathless at seeing the unadulterated joy in your face.

it is all parts soft and tender, but also anxious and worried, and simon begins to puzzle out the pieces.

“he’s my foster child. or ours, i guess, now that you’re here.” your voice is so fragile as you reply to him, your hand now beginning to rub soothing nothings on the boy’s back. simon wonders if it’s more to calm yourself down than it is to comfort the boy.

your lips purse, hesitating, and simon waits because while he he’s pieced out what you want to ask, he knows that this is something you would want to truly talk to him about. it is something he knows you have mustered up the courage to bring up so he gives it to you, open and ready, and he hopes that his face and his gait show that whatever it is you would want to say, simon will always support you no matter what.

“si?” you begin, looking heart-wrenchingly small in your worry. “i think i wanna adopt him.”

simon hums, stepping close but also being careful not to crowd yasha, before he curls his arms around you two — his family — and nuzzles his face on your other shoulder. “i’d love that.”

he offers you a smile, and squeezes your arm in comfort, then he watches as the tears come, easily springing up from your eyes. yasha startles, whirling to look up at his mother in worry. simon’s throat constricts at the thought of you being a mother and him, a father; how, now, there is someone else for simon to come home to. someone to fight for.

jesus. he’d need to tell the lads and maybe get wasted as a celebration.

“owies?” yasha asks, chubby fist balling your shirt.

“they’re happy tears, sweetie pie,” you reply, crooning. “i’m just so, so happy.”

yasha hums, nodding, probably already distracted, and simon takes that time to straighten back up. he pushes your hair away from your face, before he pitches forward to press a kiss on your forehead.

yeah, he’s happy too.

.

yasha gets spoiled, not that simon’s complaining given that he’s been the one doing all the spoiling.

“really, si? a new toly?” you ask, arms crossed over your chest in your exasperation.

toly or anatoly, or tory because yasha still can’t speak properly, is the name that yasha gave to all of his new stuffed toys. it all started with a dog plush that simon bought from the supermarket on a whim and gave to the boy. it was laughably quick how yasha had abandoned his blocks to make grabby hands to the toy, before squealing out that name.

the next stuffed toy that yasha received, which was just the softest and roundest penguin plush toy that simon’s ever seen, was also named toly. so was that teddy bear you bought for him. or that reindeer he got for christmas. somehow, every single one had been named toly.

the only thing you and simon can find about toly was that anatoly means sunrise. simon was so sure it was the russian word for animal, because why else would yasha repeat it, but who would have thought that their little fish is so imaginative?

like, of course he’s going to name all of his toys toly because they are as warm as sunrises. see? smart kid.

but this one, this new toly, set off world records. it was a camel plush that simon saw at the airport when he was out, pretending to be a civilian.

(garrick had been assigned with him for that mission, and was quick to spot and mention simon’s on-duty purchase.

“it’s for my boy,” he grunted in reply, forgetting the fact that he’s yet to truly break the news to his squad. garrick had never looked as surprised, and next thing simon knew, the news made its way to their group chat.

price was amiable about the whole thing. mactavish? not so much.

he just about begged to see a picture of yasha — “and yer girl again, if you wouldn’t mind.” — or even visit him. then he invited garrick to come and price invited himself too, so now the guys are going to swing by some time soon.)

when simon gave it to yasha, their boy had stared at it for a solid minute — simon counted — before screaming and then running to snatch the toy from simon’s hold. he hugged the camel close to his person, his little head nuzzling against the plush face of the camel, all the while absolutely vibrating in unabashed excitement.

he picked up thundering footsteps and turned around just enough to see you literally slide into the room. yasha continued to hug the camel, ignorant of the distress he caused, while you looked on in your panic, buzzing with worry because you just heard your boy scream, damn it!

“he’s fine, bub,” simon said before you could ask, and he watched as you came down from your frenzy, your breathing slowing down at the rationalization that if simon was not panicked, then everything’s alright.

then, your eyes landed on the new stuff toy.

“really?” you asked.

in his defence, yasha adores camel-toly.

in your defence, yasha’s room is running out of space for his tolys.

…well, simon does have all that military money. gonna have to spend it on something else, right?

.

[charlie foxtrot]

sriley: link

john2: ????

sriley: new address.

garry: oh? congratulations.

sriley: thanks.

johnp: 👍

.

yasha was shy when saying hi to price, then outright cried when he saw mactavish, which made simon bark out loud in laughter. yasha only stopped sniffling when he saw kyle. in no time, yasha absolutely adored garrick to the point that he would not even let him go.

dinner was prepared and while you called them all to eat, simon ambled out of the kitchen, where he had been helping you, and walked towards kyle and yasha to pick up his son and seat him on his high chair. but yasha had only looked at him, his head tilted in question, before ignoring simon and clinging onto kyle.

hell, he had even let go of camel-toly so that he could use two chubby fists to hold onto kyle. surprised, simon didn’t even know how to react and watched as his sergeant offered him an apologetic smile before carrying his son to the dining room. kyle rounded the table and sat yasha on his high chair, only, yasha made a scene when kyle did so, and he released a lungful of screams and cries, breaking everyone’s eardrums and their hearts.

kyle stood there, worried and confused, and hovered because he did not know what to do. hell, none of them did, and then you walked out of the kitchen, rushing to yasha, and hummed songs to comfort your son.

you crooned when he made grabby hands to be picked up and you did so with no hesitation, your touch soothing the boy into quiet sniffles. but even then, yasha wouldn’t settle down as he wriggled in your arms, short limbs reaching for—

simon glowered.

yasha was reaching for kyle. you were quick to giggle, asking kyle if it was alright that yasha would eat with him, and simon had glared at his sergeant, daring him to deny their son of anything, before reluctantly nodding his approval at kyle’s happy trill of, “of course, ma’am!”

yasha had finally calmed down when you sat him on kyle’s lap, and his boy was even polite enough to actually eat his soft veggies every time kyle beckoned him to open his mouth for a new spoonful.

simon did not startle, but it was close, when your hand landed on his thigh.

“you okay, baby?” you asked, eyes furrowed in your worry.

“yeah,” he remembers replying with, his throat all choked-up because he knows yasha must be excited to have new people to play with, but still, there was something that stung when his boy chose garrick over him.

not that it was kyle’s fault because he is a dear for even doing all that he did for yasha, but simon had hoped that he would always be yasha’s favourite.

too lost in his thoughts, simon had almost missed yasha’s call.

“-ddy? daddy?” yasha asked, startling simon.

it was not the first time yasha called him that, but every time he did, it never fails to make simon melt.

“yeah? what’s up, buddy?”

simon pretended that no one was watching the interaction.

yasha giggled, hiding his food-smeared lips behind his little palms, before turning to use garrick’s front to hide from simon. you snorted, murmuring to kyle how you swear you would wash his shirt before they go, but it’s all buzz to simon because his son — his darling boy — wanted to play with him during dinner.

yasha peeked at him again, before giggling once more when he caught simon’s eyes. this continued on until dinner ended, with simon occasionally miming growling monsters to induce more hearty giggles from his son, and being rewarded with the happiest laughter ever.

simon turned to you, with his heart on his throat, and beamed.

“aww,” mactavish sang from somewhere beside him. “ain’t that adorable— argh!”

simon had swung his arm out and thumped his fist on johnny’s stomach. thank god, yasha had chosen that time to hide his face again on kyle’s stomach.

.

“unca’ john?” yasha asks in a stage-whisper because everyone within earshot just heard him even with his attempt to be quiet. it’s only their training that stopped simon from acting like he’s noticed.

“yeah, bubsy?” john replies, sounding so utterly soft that this version of him is so foreign to simon.

“this tory,” yasha says and simon discreetly peeks to see which toly is being introduced to uncle john — it’s the elephant one.

price gasps theatrically like he hadn’t seen yasha drool all over this elephant toy before, and puffs out, “how cute!”

“mhmm,” yasha says, nodding, then smacks the face of the toy on john’s face. the trunk smooshes against john’s nose, and thank god that elephant-tory is soft because that aim would have been lethal if it wasn’t.

“jesus—” price gasps out.

“language!” simon hisses, and ducks his head back down just before yasha could catch him peeking.

.

yasha is now four and he still gets teary eyed when he sees johnny. simon placates his friend and says it’ll pass soon. maybe.

basically, i wanted to write a fic wherein simon’s reaction to being presented with a child is “what— oh okay, sure why not” and (literally in 20 minutes) “i will kill everything for this child” and so here we are

a simon spinoff - it takes a rampage (to be a dad)

[helssent]

*cutely grabs mark by the neck*

WHAT IS IT MARK?

THATS RIGHT! IS NOT CHRISTMAS!!

*throws him out the window*

WH-

WHAAHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhh *fading scream and splat.sfx*

-💀🔫

[swappingforgood]

Morning After Part 1

I feel my boyfriend kiss my cheek as I take a picture. “Good morning, Liam,” he says in his cute morning voice. “Good morning, Matthew,” I say with a smile before feeling him bite me softly on the cheek. "Owie, why did you do that?” I laughed playfully as he responded, “I told you to call me Matty while I’m in this body; it makes me feel younger." You see, we both really are Liam and Matthew and we are definitely dating kinda, but we are most definitely not this young and cute. We are both married men who aren’t married to each other but with wives'. One day after a dinner party, my wife Melissa wanted to do a magic trick with the family, and so Matthew and I volunteered, as did our sons Peter and Jackson. What we didn’t know was that Melissa actually swapped our bodies for real. Everyone freaked out and didn’t know what to do, but Melissa reassured us that it would only last a weekend. Unfortunately, the boys had to go to work in our bodes in order to keep face, and with the wife’s gone, me and Matthew were left alone. We laughed and joked about how since we are in our son’s body that maybe we should kiss since they are dating, and honestly, when he gave me a peck on the lips, I went back for seconds. I honestly don’t know what happened. I just gave in to my teenage hormones and next thing I know I’m riding his teenage cock with my son's ass. So at least for a weekend, me and Matthew—I mean, Matty—will be in these cute twink bodies.