#elmo's daddy

[gifs-of-puppets]

Happy Birthday, Elmo!

[imp-imp-im-a-simp]

[smut-simp]

I SWEAR ON MY LIFE...

IF I SEE ANOTHER POST ABOUT BUDDY DADDIES LAST EPISODE, I AM GOING TO DROP NUKES ON THIS WHOLE PLANET(nah don't worry, i ain't that bad)

[ssahotchnerr]

girldad!aaron and reader with a daughter that’s got an imaginary friend and they always make sure to save a seat for it and talk to them and just include her imaginary friend.

imaginary

STOP SO CUTE cw; girl!dad aaron, fem!reader, mentions of food, domestic fluff <3

ever since aaron put on sesame street one saturday morning, elmo has been a frequent guest in the household. when he wasn't, according to your daughter, "on tv doing his job", elmo was joining her for tea parties, playing dress up, or anything else her creative, young mind could come up with.

at dinner, the sound of the chair buffing against the floor grabbed aaron's focus - she had, with all the strength she could muster up, pulled back the spare chair for her new friend to sit at, to join the family. aaron took that as a sign to indulge her, taking a small plate and filling it with the littlest amount of spaghetti, and setting it at elmo's 'spot'.

"daddy, can elmo sleepover?" your daughter asked, once her pjs were on and bedtime had approached.

"sure sweet pea," aaron didn't skip a beat, pulling back her duvet and getting her sheets prepped for bed. "but i don't want to hear the two of you up all night, deal?"

"deal!" she trailed across the room to her closet, swinging it open and perching up onto her tippy toes, "elmo needs my sleeping bag."

aaron easily grabbed it off the top shelf, holding it snug under his arm before gazing down at her.

"you better go show elmo how to brush his teeth. i don't need his dentist calling me with a cavity bill." aaron feigned his pensive look, and she very quickly ran out, yelling behind at elmo to 'hurry!'

when you returned with your daughter (and elmo) this time, aaron had already set the sleeping bag next to her bed. the top layer was pulled back, waiting. he even placed a small, stuffed bear on elmo's pillow.

"into bed you go," you hoisted her up, getting her tucked in and situated comfortably, resting her own favorite, stuffed bunny next to her.

aaron joined you after turning on her nightlight, tapping your hip once affectionally. "remember what i said."

"me and elmo go to sleep."

"that's right." you gave her a soft smile, placing a kiss on the top of her head, "goodnight, sweet dreams."

"now say goodnight to elmo daddy." your little girl's eyes fell into an almost harsh glare, after aaron kissed her forehead gently as well. she sat up against her pillow, her dark brown curls spanning across it.

aaron huffed a quiet laugh, soft enough for your ears only. "goodnight elmo."

[corroded-hellfire]

Finally His Year - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish Story

Collab with my soulmate @munson-blurbs 🩵

Summary: It’s Eddie’s birthday and what he really wants is you.

Note: In honor of JQ’s 30th birthday woohoo 🎉

Words: 4.1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

The Munson house is buzzing when you arrive. There are three unfamiliar cars parked in front of it, probably from the other people celebrating Eddie’s birthday with him. You have his gift tucked under your arm and a Tupperware of raspberry and white chocolate chip cookies in that same hand, using the free one to ring the doorbell. 

You barely have time to pull your forefinger back before the door swings open. Luke peeks his head around, grinning when he sees you standing there. 

“Good evening, madam-a-zell,” he says in a vague concoction of European accents—none of them even resembling French. “May I take your—ooh, cookies!”

Laughing, you reach over and ruffle his mop of curls. “These are for Daddy, Luke-miere.” When his face falls, you quickly add, “but maybe he’ll share.”

This placates him, and he skips off to announce your arrival. As soon as he says your name, you hear the sound of Eddie’s feet shuffling towards the entryway. 

“You made it!” He says with a huge smile. In your dreams, he pulls you in for a hug and kisses you tenderly. But this is real life, so he just stands with his hands in his pockets. 

“I made it,” you agree awkwardly. It takes a moment for you to remember everything you’re holding. “Oh, these are all for you.” You maneuver it all, handing him the cylindrical tube and then the plastic container. Luke loudly clears his throat, and you grin. “Unless you feel like sharing the cookies.”

Eddie takes the presents, shaking his head at his younger son’s interruption. “I’ll consider it. Thank you, Sweetheart.”

That stupid nickname. You love and hate it; as much as he calls you that, you know you’re not his sweetheart. Because he’s married. 

His wife—God, you hated that she held that title—was sipping a full glass of wine. Though she’s standing next to Nancy, the two aren’t exchanging any words. 

You should go over there. Brittany is technically one of your employers, so it’s best not to rock the boat. Unless, of course, you could ensure she’d fall overboard. 

Plastering a feigned smile on your face, you walk over to her. Before you can even get out a hello, she points towards Ryan and Luke. 

“They have to go to bed at nine o’clock, so just have them in their pajamas with their teeth brushed by then.”

Embarrassment crawls under your skin. “Oh, I, um, I’m actually here for the party. Not to babysit.”

Brittany doesn’t seem thrown off at all; she just rolls her eyes and turns to Nancy. “Didn’t realize people still needed parties after they turned thirty,” she quips. 

To her credit, Nancy just shrugs and walks to you, ignoring the snark hurled your way. She guides you over to where the rest of the group is chatting. 

“Can you say, ‘Uncle Dusty’?” Dustin asks little Tiffany Mayfield-Sinclair, gently bouncing her in his arms. “C’mon…Un-kul Duh-stee!”

“Elmo!” Tiffany claps her chubby hands together gleefully, unbothered by Dustin’s frustration. 

“I think your kid’s broken,” he grumbles, handing the little girl back to Lucas. 

“She was fine until you held her,” Lucas quips as he holds his daughter against his chest.

“Or maybe she just thinks you look like Elmo,” Steve offers with a shrug. 

“What is this, high school?” Dustin asks, looking between his friends. “Ganging up on me?”

Eddie shakes his head and gives a loud tsk. 

“It’s because you’re not part of the club, Henderson.”

“Oh, because I’m not a dad?” Dustin asks, gesturing with a motion that looks very similar to jazz hands. “That’s fine. Because I’m the coolest uncle these kids have. Someone has to be that figure in their lives.”

“Are they always like this?” you ask Nancy with an amused chuckle.

“Since high school,” Nancy confirms with a sigh. “The sad thing is, I can see how they’ve matured since then.”

You giggle at her response before there’s a weighted thunk against the front of your legs. Ryan’s chocolate eyes peer up at you, a huge grin on his round face. 

“Well hello, you,” you greet him, reaching down to ruffle his honey colored hair. 

“I’m so happy you’re here!” Ryan cheers. Warmth spreads in your chest at his words. You’re touched until he opens his mouth again to ask, “Luke said you brought cookies?”

“I did,” you tell him, tugging on a lock of hair that’s fallen into his eyes. “But they’re for your dad. It’s up to him if he wants to share with you guys.” Of course he will, you think to yourself. Eddie loves these boys more than Luke loves his Hot Wheels collection; and as you’re reminded by the five-year-old almost every day you babysit, that’s a lot. 

“Maybe after he opens his presents,” Ryan muses, more to himself than you. “Or after we have the cake Aunt Nancy made.

“Ryan!”

A little girl’s call echoes around the room. The older Munson boy gives you a quick smile before running towards the kitchen where Natalie Harrington is drawing a picture. 

Something Ryan said sticks in your brain though. You turn towards Nancy, brow pinching slightly.

“You made Eddie’s cake?” you ask. 

The deep breath Nancy takes lets you know there’s more to the story than she’s probably going to tell you. After all, she hardly knows you. The two of you had only met a handful of times since you started watching the boys last year and none of the visits were particularly long. It's an annoyed sigh that Nancy heaves out, her petite shoulders falling with the release. She’s not annoyed at you, if her kindness and body language towards you are anything to go on. So, what’s got her so tense?

“I did,” Nancy affirms. She’s quiet for a moment and at first you think that’s all she’s going to say. But the way her head bobbles slightly from side to side and her jaw muscles tighten and release, you can tell she’s picking her words carefully before she speaks. To her, you’re her friend’s employee so how much should she reveal? “Steve, um, called Eddie yesterday morning to confirm the time for the party today. Eddie was headed out the door just as Steve called. He said he was going to the grocery store. To buy his own birthday cake.”

“His own? Why couldn’t his wife get it? Or better yet, why didn’t she make one for him with the boys?” Your mind floats back to when you and the boys made a cake for Ryan’s birthday over the summer. It was messy and overly sweet, but the love and care put into it are what made it special. 

“That’s what I said,” Nancy grits out through a clenched jaw. After a few moments, you see Nancy’s body deflate. The tension rolls off her like a wave returning to the sea. “So, I made him one. Carrot cake with cream cheese frosting.”

“Carrot cake?” you ask, wrinkling up your nose. It’s not that you disliked the dessert, it just wasn’t what you would’ve pegged Eddie for on his birthday. 

“I know,” Nancy says with a small chuckle. She shakes her head in amusement, wavy locks of hair swaying at the movement. “He can’t be typical, right? Not chocolate or vanilla—or even strawberry, but carrot cake. That’s Eddie for ya.”

The party continues with casual conversations: milestones Tiffany is meeting, work updates for the “kids” (who were now full-fledged adults, but would always be freshmen to Eddie), and a tentatively scheduled reunion for their high school Dungeons & Dragons club. It only came to a stop when there was a crash in the kitchen. 

Everyone’s heads whipped around at the sound, worried that one of the Munson or Harrington children was causing chaos, but the reason for the clamor was none other than Brittany. She’d dropped the cheese and cracker board on the ground and was laughing like she’d just heard the funniest joke. 

“Oopsie daisy!” She cackles, nearly falling over with the force of her laugh. While the rest of you had been casually sipping wine or beer, she had been drinking like she was at a frat party. 

“Jesus,” Nancy mutters under her breath. 

Eddie glances at Steve, who nods at Lucas, and the two of them step in towards Brittany. 

“C’mon, time for bed, Britt,” Steve says as patiently as he can manage. He hooks an arm around her, and Lucas does the same on the other side. It’s obvious that this isn’t the first time they’ve done this. A well-oiled machine, ensuring that the kids are none the wiser.

Small miracles, you suppose. 

“We can do presents when they get back,” Max jumps in, trying to keep the attention away from the drunk woman stumbling away. 

Eddie nods in agreement, collecting the various gifts from the kitchen table and placing them next to his spot on the sofa. When he sits, he spreads his legs enough that you can imagine yourself between them, pressing kisses up his thighs to his—

No. Stop it. 

When Steve and Lucas return, Eddie reaches for the first package. Though the room is filled with excited murmurs and crinkling wrapping paper, you can still make out the quiet conversation between Nancy and her husband. 

“Did you hold a pillow over her head?”

“No, Nance.”

“Damn it.”

You tuck your lips into your mouth to stifle a smile. 

Eddie pulls out a pair of sneakers from the box: white with a black check mark on the side. He immediately slides them on his feet, wiggling his toes around to ensure enough room. “These are perfect! My old ones were falling apart.”

“We know,” Nancy says wryly as Steve proudly announces, “You said you liked mine, so I got you the same ones.”

“Aww!” Dustin coos, pursing his lips exaggeratedly. “You guys are twins!

Eddie discreetly flips him off before continuing through his stash. Theo and Natalie Harrington made him woven friendship bracelets, which he immediately slid onto his left wrist. When he opens Dustin’s gift, a mug printed with the words “rock ‘n roll” underneath a cartoon rock and dinner roll, Wayne proclaims that it’s even cornier than the ones in the trailer. 

Eddie’s face lights up at the present from Max and Lucas—a new Walkman and some heavy metal cassettes. 

A pit forms in your stomach: is your gift going to be enough? Will he even like it? Was this whole thing a bad—

“Holy shit.”

You look up to see Eddie staring awestruck at the now-unwrapped present; specifically, the present you got for him. It’s an autographed Metallica poster that you’d spotted at the mall months ago, before his birthday was even a consideration. You’d bought it and kept it safely in your room, waiting for the perfect time to give it to him. 

“Sweetheart, this is…” He just shakes his head, blinking misty eyes. “Wow. I, um…thank you,” he finally manages. 

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie had seen that same poster just last week. He had Brittany’s shopping bags clutched in his hands when he walked towards the record store. 

Kirk Hammett’s signature called to him like a siren. 

Eddie was just about ready to pay for it when Brittany marched over, plucking it from his grip and mumbling something about not having room for any more of his stupid music shit. 

That had been the end of that. 

“You’re welcome,” you say with a small shrug, as if it was nothing at all. “I saw it and immediately thought of you.” That wasn’t too much to say, right? It’s normal to think of someone when you see something you know they’d love, right? Even if that person is your boss?

Once Luke stops scavenging through his father’s presents like one might be hidden there for him, he looks up at his dad with wide, pleading eyes that he most definitely inherited from the man. 

“Time for caaaake?”

Eddie snorts and playfully rolls his eyes. A ringed hand comes down to ruffle the little boy’s curls.

“I guess we could have cake now.”

The Munson boys and the Harrington sibling duo cheer in excitement and beat everyone else into the kitchen. All you can hear as the kids disappear into the next room is an I’m okay! from Luke.

Steve taps you on the shoulder as you step over the threshold into the kitchen.

“Hey, could you give me a hand with the cake?” he asks. 

“Sure.” You follow Steve over to the refrigerator, silently wondering how many women had actually denied the handsome man anything when he asked in such a smooth voice. 

The cake looks delicious as Steve pulls it out of the fridge. Nancy definitely put in some work to make sure it turned out this lovely. The cream cheese frosting is smooth on all sides with delicate piping lining the edge of the rectangular sheet cake. In a beautiful scrawl that is far nicer than your own handwriting, she had written “Happy Birthday Eddie!” in black gel icing. 

Steve sets the cake down on the gray granite counter and reaches for a drugstore bag that has a pack of candles and a lighter in it. The two of you work as a team to plug the cake with the multicolored striped sticks and take turns lighting different sides of the cake. 

“You got it?” Steve asks as he steps over towards the light switches on the wall.

“Yep,” you assure him as you carefully lift the flaming desert off the counter. Turning around to face the table proves the most difficult part as you slowly spin your body while keeping the cake steady. 

Eddie is seated at the table, kids surrounding him on all sides as they clamor about what’s taking so long with the cake. Taking so long? You thought you and Steve worked pretty efficiently together. 

“Watch out rugrats,” Dustin says, clapping a hand on Luke’s shoulder and pulling him out of your way. 

You give the curly haired man a grateful smile before you slide the cake onto the table right in front of Eddie. As you go to pull your arms away, pale, calloused fingers reach up and rest against your skin for a moment.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Eddie says. 

All you did was carry a cake over but you’re more than glad to receive praise from your boss any time that you can. 

Steve flips the kitchen lights off and everyone breaks into a rousing rendition of Happy Birthday. Ryan stands right in front of you as you sing, and you rest your hands on his small shoulders. 

“Make a wish!” Luke calls from Dustin’s side once the singing ended. He watches as his dad purses his lips, thinking of a wish. The dim lighting in the room may be playing tricks on you, but you could’ve sworn Eddie’s eyes flickered over to you before he took a deep breath and blew out all thirty-something of the candles on the first try. 

“Yay!” Luke cheers while everyone else claps. “Whatcha wish for?”

Ryan scoffs and rolls his eyes at his little brother. “He can’t tell you or it won’t come true.”

“For my last birthday I wished for a pet,” Luke says. 

“Is that why you dug up the worm in the backyard?” Eddie asks.

“Yep,” Luke announces, a proud smile on his face. 

“Wormy Munson is missed,” Ryan says, patting his little brother’s shoulder. 

The attention quickly turns from squiggly little pets when Nancy asks the room, “Who wants a piece?”

“Me!” Four children’s hands shoot up at the same time, but Nancy just shakes her head at them.

“Birthday boy gets first crack at it,” she says as she slices a piece and transfers it to a Darth Vader paper plate. Nancy delivers that and a plastic fork to Eddie before returning to the counter to cut slices for the rest of the guests. 

When you get your piece of cake, you slip into a seat next to Eddie’s at the table. 

“So, carrot cake, huh?” you ask him with a playful smirk on your face. 

“Hey, gotta get vegetables into these kids somehow,” Eddie says, reaching behind him to tickle Ryan’s belly. The older boy laughs and moves out of his dad’s reach. 

“Broccoli brownies next?” you ask, a shit eating grin on your face before you pop a chunk of cake into your mouth.

“Such a smart ass,” Eddie teases, scooping some of his icing onto his pinky and wiping it off on the tip of your nose. Both boys giggle as you try to reach it with your tongue, trying to stretch it out as far as possible to lick it off. Though the boys found it funny, Eddie had an entirely different feeling wash over him as he watched your tongue snake out to try and lick the white substance off your face. His pants tighten and Eddie shifts in his seat, trying to hide his crotch further beneath the table. 

Guests drift in and out of the kitchen with their plates of cake, mingling with one another out in the living room. You offer to collect the paper plates up for the garbage once everyone is done. You’re carrying the stack back towards the kitchen when you hear Steve and Eddie having a conversation in there. It’s pretty clear this is just meant to be between them, but when you hear Steve’s question to his best friend, your feet become glued to the floor. 

“Think you’ll finally get lucky tonight since it’s your birthday?” 

Eddie snorts. “It doesn’t seem like it.” You can practically picture him nodding his head in the direction of his bedroom where Brittany is probably snoring her ass off as she sleeps off her alcohol. You really hope she has a hangover tomorrow. 

“Not what I meant, dude,” Steve replies.

This catches you off guard. Who could Steve possibly be talking about if not Brittany? Does… A sickening thought winds its way through your brain, claws taking hold in those places that are already prone to insecurities. Does Eddie have a girlfriend? It’s not like you would judge him for it after Brittany’s whoring around is common knowledge. But it drives an ice pick through your heart just picturing Eddie with his own awful, evil wife. Knowing he might be with someone who could be kind and caring should comfort you—but it doesn’t. It makes you want to tear your skin off to think of Eddie with anyone else but you. Because if he wasn’t going to be with Brittany, you wanted him to be with you. And if you didn’t even get a chance to show him what the two of you could be together? The idea threatened to destroy you. 

“Watch it Harrington,” Eddie answers Steve, his voice low. It’s the closest thing to a warning you’ve ever heard from him. 

A familiar toddler’s cry abruptly ends their conversation and your now-agonizing eavesdropping. Eddie shakes his head, giving Steve one last glare as he walks out of the kitchen, and looks over at a wailing Tiffany Mayfield-Sinclair. 

Ryan scrunches his face. “Daddy, play her the song!”

“Yeah, play it!” Luke echoes, hands pressed to his ears. 

Now you’re intrigued. “What song?”

Eddie sighs. “Boys, I don’t think anyone wants to hear me play—”

“Au contraire,” Dustin butts in with a smirk. He hands Eddie his acoustic guitar, propped up in the corner. “I think we’d all love a little concert.”

Eddie gives you a look that pleads help me out here, but you’re already invested. 

“Concert! Concert!” You chant, laughing when the others join in. 

He doesn’t say anything, just slips the strap over his shoulder and quickly tunes the guitar. 

“If…you’re…happy and you know it, clap your hands!”

Everyone in the room claps twice. Everyone except Tiffany, who is still wailing. 

“If you’re happy and you know it clap your hands!”

Same result. 

“All right, all right. Let’s skip to a different verse.” Eddie takes in the baby’s squealing form. 

“If…you’re…angry and you know it, do a growl.” He lets out the most ridiculous roar you’ve ever heard, and you can’t help but laugh. 

From her mother’s arms, Tiffany lets out a roar of her own. Your giggle catches her attention, and she reaches out for you to hold her. 

For a moment, Eddie believes his heart is going to implode from the sweet scene in front of him. He wills himself to concentrate on playing, but the sight of you holding a baby girl weakens his resolve. How many times has he daydreamed about you holding his baby girl that he shares with you? Probably too many times on the job for someone who deals with heavy machinery. In his mind she has your hair and his eyes—though he knows she’d probably gets his curls since both boys have them to a degree.

Tiffany bounces in your arms, enraptured in the music. If Eddie plays Old MacDonald, she’ll be mind-blown. 

The soft timbre of Eddie’s voice, enthusiastic enough to capture Tiffany’s attention without riling her up, has your heart beating double time. Though you’ve known from the beginning that Eddie plays guitar, this is the first time you actually get to witness it. It’s as sexy as you’ve always imagined—even if he’s only playing nursery rhymes.

“There we go,” Eddie murmurs as whatever had been bothering the little girl seemingly dissipates. He grins at Max and Lucas. “That should buy you about five minutes before the next meltdown.”

Sure enough, the crying starts up again, signaling the party’s end. Hugs are exchanged as everyone clears out; final “happy birthday’s” sent Eddie’s way.

There’s a small tug on your arm just as you’re about to grab your purse. “Can you tuck us into bed?” Ryan asks, eyes wide. Luke’s at his side, nodding in agreement. 

“Of course.” Always the babysitter, you think, but you truly enjoy being a part of their lives. The fact that they also enjoy it makes it even better.

The youngest Munson beams at you. “Maybe you can sleep over!”

“Uh, not this time. Sorry, kiddo.”

After teeth have been brushed and bedtime stories have been read, you retreat back to the kitchen. Eddie is clipping open bags of potato chips, and you start to gather any used paper platesto toss in the trash. 

“You don’t have to,” Eddie says, gesturing towards the stack of disposable cups in your hand. 

You cock your brow and smirk. “Do you really wanna clean all of this by yourself?”

“Fuck no.”

“That’s what I thought.”

He smiles back at you, shaking his head when he notices icing smeared on the back of a kitchen chair. “Should’ve put the boys on clean-up duty” he grunts.

“Then everything would just get shoved under the couch and they’d call it a day,” you point out, and he readily agrees.

Once the floor has been swept and the leftover food has been placed in the refrigerator, you have no valid excuse to stay any longer.

“I should get going,” you say, plucking your keys from your bag and twirling the chain around your forefinger. “I hope you had a good birthday.”

Eddie nods as he walks with you to the front door. He holds it open for you, then follows you out to your car. “Yeah, it was great. Especially your gift. It, um, meant a lot.” A slight rosiness tinges his cheeks, and he pulls you in for a hug.

You return it easily, your arms wrapping around his torso. Both of you hold on a beat longer than necessary, but you can’t seem to pull away.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, breath tickling your ear. He leans in; for a moment, it seems like he’s going to kiss the top of your head, but he takes a step back. Eddie’s done it so many times in his mind before that he almost forgot he doesn’t get to do it in real life. “Get home safe, yeah?”

“I will.” You duck into your car, giving him a small wave before you pull out of the driveway. As you drive, you watch Eddie trudge back into the house from your rearview mirror.

Once he’s inside, he closes the door and breathes out a sigh. He adjusts himself over his pants, painfully aware that he’s half-hard from a simple hug. Looking towards the bedroom he shares with Brittany, he pivots away and beelines towards the Tupperware of cookies you’d made.

Taking a big bite, he chews thoughtfully, delaying the inevitable. If only he could curl up next to you instead of her. He chuckles at the insanity of the idea and takes another bite of cookie.

“Happy fuckin’ birthday to me.”

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

Summary: Conflict arises with Harris's new teacher, filling Halloween with more tricks than treats. But it's nothing a visit with Ms. Sweetheart can't fix.

Warnings: allusion to Reader and Eddie's one-night stand, panic attack, Reader's grandma has dementia.

WC: 5.6k

Chapter 6/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Divider credit to @saradika

Guns N’ Roses t-shirt: check. Goodwill jeans with makeshift holes in the knees: check. Bandana tied snugly around his forehead: check. Arms littered with an assortment of temporary tattoos: check.

Eddie grins as he assesses his son’s costume, reaching into the thrift store bag as he pulls out the pièce de résistance: a denim jacket, only two sizes bigger than Harris would usually wear. It was a bit over what he’d been hoping to spend, but he’d reasoned with himself that it could also be worn after Halloween. It was an investment, he’d decided, not a splurge.

His smile falters when Harris indignantly stomps his foot, crossing his arms over his chest. While Eddie had hoped his son would go with more badass tattoo options, perhaps a skull and crossbones or even a snake, he had insisted on a Sesame Street theme. Cookie Monster munches on his signature treat as Harris pouts.

“No, Daddy!” he whines, twisting away when Eddie holds the jacket closer to him. “I can’t wear that!”

“C’mon, Har,” he tries, scouring his brain to come up with a convincing enough lie. “Axl Rose wore jackets all the time!”

Harris doesn’t just shake his head; he swivels his entire body back and forth in protest. “I don’t care! No one’s gonna be able to see my tattoos!” He holds out both arms in front of him; nearly every square inch (besides the section blocked by his cast) is covered. Eddie had spent most of last night diligently applying them precisely where Harris had asked, lest there be a tantrum. There was, unfortunately, a headless Elmo from when Harris had asked–no, demanded–that he try by himself. Still, Eddie figured that only one casualty was a win.

“Those are some sweet ol’ tatties,” Eddie muses, biting back a laugh at the two-dimensional Big Bird on his son’s forearm. “But wouldn’t it be cool if you wore the jacket into school and then–BAM!--took it off and surprised everyone with them?

Harris appears to consider this, mouth tucked into his cheeks. “Can I show Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Sure, bud. We’ll stop by her classroom when I pick you up.” Whatever gets us out of the house in weather-appropriate attire. “But first, show me your most metal pose.”

The boy opens his mouth wide and sticks out his tongue as far as it extends, scrunching his face dramatically until the corners of his eyes crinkle. His middle and ring fingers press into his palm, thumb crossing over them, with his forefinger and pinky raised in the quintessential rock ‘n roll symbol. 

Eddie swoops down and smacks a wet kiss to Harris’s cheek. “That’s my boy!”

Standing among the crowd of parents at pick-up, Eddie opts out of making banal small talk and instead chooses to look at the bulletin board. The previous art project that had been hanging against the faded blue paper–”self-portraits” that the students had made on the first day of school–have been replaced by finger paintings of orange blobs that vaguely resemble pumpkins. There wasn’t one for Harris because he was in Ms. Sweetheart’s classroom then, so it’s his first art project in his new class. He eagerly scans the board for Harris’s, frowning when he can’t find his name. 

Maybe it’s still drying, he tries to convince himself, imagining his son over-saturating the paper with globs of paint. It wouldn’t be entirely out of character.

Ms. Marion’s classroom is a sea of costumed children. A boy dressed as one of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles stands by his mom. A Cinderella, a black cat, and a Thomas the Tank Engine surround Ms. Paula. As soon as Eddie spots Harris, he smiles and waves him over, hurriedly scribbling his signature on the sign-out sheet.

He expects Harris to zoom past the other kids, fueled by the standard Halloween diet of sugar and chocolate, but he just kind of…mopes to the doorway. His shoulders slump dejectedly, and though he keeps his gaze low, Eddie can still see the film of mist staining his innocent eyes.

“Har, what’s wrong?” He waits for an answer, and when he doesn’t receive one–an oddity for his perpetually chatty son–he tries a new tactic. “Wanna show me where your artwork is? I must be gettin’ old, because I couldn’t find it on the board out there.”

“‘S not there,” Harris mumbles, scratching off a flaking piece of the Rosita tattoo on the back of his hand. “I didn’t get to finish.”

Eddie watches as the tears start to slip down his cheeks, and he brings him into the hallway before Ms. Marion or Ms. Paula sees what’s going on. He can’t be certain, but his paternal instincts tell him that they’ve contributed to Harris’s sad state. “Why not?”

“I-I t-tried, but M-Ms. Mar-Marion and Ms. P-Paula got m-mad at me.” The words come out between choked sobs. “‘C-Cuz I c-couldn’t sit d-down.”

“What do you mean?”

“I k-keeped st-standing up, ‘cuz m-my legs wanted to st-stand.” The explanation tumbles out of him so quickly, as though he’s trying to beat the clock. “And they s-said if I did-didn’t sit down, I c-couldn’t do art. But I k-keeped f-f-forgetting, and th-they t-taked away my pay-pay-paper and said, ‘sit in the c-corner!’”

Eddie’s breath hitches, and he has to clear his throat before speaking again. “Did…did that happen in Ms. Sweetheart’s class? The legs thing?” 

“Mhm,” Harris manages, “b-but she let me stand and d-do ju-jumps to get the wig-wiggles out. She just t-t-telled me not to do ju-jumps with s-s-scissors, ‘cuz of s-safety.” His breathing increases to a rapid pace, face flushing red as his chest heaves. “B-But Ms. M-Marion ye-ye-yelled at me!”

Eddie’s brows pinch together, and he gently presses his calloused palms against Harris’s narrow shoulders, desperate to prevent him from hyperventilating. “Harris, you gotta calm down. I can’t understand you when you’re crying like this!” Despite his efforts, his frustration bleeds into his tone, and he winces when the latter sentence ends with an unwanted snap. “Shh, it’s okay. It’s just an art project.” 

“Harris?”

The sound of your voice draws the attention of both Munsons. You let out a small oof as Harris flings himself against your legs, and though he practically flew the five foot distance between his father and you, now is not the time to remind him about using his walking feet.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?” You crouch down, taking his hand in yours, and notice his quick, shallow breaths. “We’re gonna breathe together, okay? Eyes on me.” You demonstrate inhaling for three seconds, holding for three seconds, and exhaling for three seconds. “Now let’s do it together.” 

He hesitates but ultimately follows your lead, and you guide him until his breathing slows enough for him to sputter, “I t-tried to sit, b-but I c-couldn’t.”

You haven’t the slightest idea what he’s referring to, but Eddie fills you in. You feel the heat of anger creeping through your body, not just for the way your co-worker treated the sweet boy, but for her insolent approach to teaching as a whole.

“We can go to my classroom,” you offer, silently sighing in relief when the boy nods in agreement. “I don’t know if I have the supplies to make the same project as Ms. Marion, but if you have a few minutes, you can draw something now. I bet Mr. Will would love to help you; he’s a super-duper artist.”

Just as you’d predicted, Will jumps at the opportunity to help Harris with his impromptu art project, encouraging him to draw something that makes him happy. While he does that, you comb through the mess left behind from the Halloween party you’d thrown. You’d sooner toss one hundred cupcake wrappers in the trash before attempting a conversation with Eddie Munson. He’s simply too unpredictable; kind and thoughtful one day, harsh and guarded the next.

One of the wrappers in your hand drops to the floor and you reach forward to pick it up, pinching the pleated material between your pointer and middle fingers. You can feel Eddie’s eyes on your form, the way the backs of your thighs are slightly exposed when you bend over, and you stand up quickly. 

“Are you the Magic School Bus lady?” He takes in your lavender dress with planets and stars stamped all over it. Oh. He wasn’t checking you out; he was just trying to figure out who you’d dressed up as. Good. Anything else would be inappropriate.

So why does a twinge of disappointment radiate through you?

You glance at your costume; with all of the commotion, you’d forgotten you’d even been wearing one “I mean, would I even be a teacher if I didn’t jump at the chance to be Ms. Frizzle?” You motion over to Will, decked out in green from head to toe with two yellow horns glued to a headband atop his mop of brown hair. “Have you met my trusty sidekick, Liz the Lizard?”

Eddie laughs. “Yeah, Byers actually used to play in my D&D club back in high school. Made some pretty sick art pieces to liven up that dingy excuse for a room.”

You look between the two of them, trying to do the mental math. “Will, didn’t you say you’re twenty-four?” And if Eddie is thirty, that means…

“I, uh, had a little trouble graduating,” Eddie sheepishly admits, ruffling the back of his hair and offering a tight grimace. “But I got there eventually. Class of ‘86, baby!” 

“Worked out for me,” Will shrugs with a grin, looking up from Harris’s drawing. “You were the best DM Hellfire ever had. Although, rumor has it that Erica Sinclair gave you a run for your money.”

Harris picks up a yellow marker, furiously scribbling a circle in the left-hand corner of his paper. You try peering over to see the whole drawing, but he presses his whole body against the table, successfully thwarting your plans. “No peeking!” he warns, not putting his feet back on the ground until you’ve averted your gaze. “‘S a surprise.”

You put your hands up in surrender. “All right, all right. I’ll be surprised.” You raise your eyebrows at Eddie, who shares a similar response in return.

“Dunno when he got so bossy,” he snorts before calling out to his son, “Har-Bear? Five more minutes. We gotta get home to trick-or-treat with Grampa Wayne.”

“Ooh, that sounds like fun!” you echo as Harris grabs a purple marker from the box. “What’s your favorite candy?”

“Hmm.” Harris uses his free hand–the one with the cast–to tap his chin, continuing to color with the other one. “M&Ms. But only the plain ones. Daddy doesn’t let me have the peanut ones ‘cause he says I could choke.”

You shoot a sly, knowing look at Eddie. “I’m sure that’s the only reason. Such a selfless father.” You cross your arms over your chest and cock your head innocently. “And what do you do with all of these confiscated peanut M&Ms, Mr. Munson? Donate them?” 

Eddie tucks his lips into his mouth to mask his grin. “Listen, the jig is gonna be up at some point,” he mumbles out of the corner of his mouth, loud enough so you can hear but soft enough that Harris can’t. “Let me enjoy my free candy while it lasts.”

“No judgment here,” you say with a small laugh, “they’re one of my favorites, too.”

“TA-DA!” Harris shouts, startling you, Eddie, and Will. He holds up the construction paper and smiles widely. To anyone without kids–or who didn’t teach preschool for a living–it would look like a bunch of colorful scribbles. But you can tell that he’s drawn a group of people standing by a tree (or a really, really tall flower) underneath the sun.

“Wow, Harris! That’s amazing!” you clap your hands together to punctuate your enthusiasm. “Who are all those people?”

Harris’s pointer finger travels left to right across the paper as he names each person: “That’s me, Grampa Wayne, Daddy, you, and Mr. Will!” The stick figure that represents you has a purple scribble on it, which you realize must be the costume you’re wearing. “An’ we’re all smiling because we’re happy!” Sure enough, each person has a curved red line at the bottom of their face. But there’s something else that catches your eye.

All of the people have a small space between them, except for you and Eddie. The circle that Harris drew to represent your left hand overlaps with the circle that is Eddie’s right. 

You glance at the real Eddie, and if he notices, he doesn’t give any indication. “I love it, buddy.” He takes the drawing and inspects it closely. “Yup, this one’s definitely going on the fridge when we get home.” He flicks the paper for good measure. “Go clean up the markers so we can head out, Axl Rose.”

Among the noise of markers clattering back in the bins, you lean in to Eddie, inadvertently inhaling the scent of his cigarettes and cologne. For a brief moment, you’re transported back to the night fate had led you to cross paths; the thought of his lips on your neck in the stairwell has you clenching your thighs and swallowing thickly as you murmur, “I can ask him to make a new one with just you, him, and his grandpa.”

Eddie shakes his head. “N-No. I like this one.” He lets one hand drop to his side and it grazes yours. His rings brush your knuckles, and you instinctively draw back at the sensation of the cool metal and the zing of heat that pulses at his light touch. “Sorry,” he mumbles, not making eye contact.

“S’okay.”

He blinks a few times and redirects his attention to his son. “What do you say to Mr. Will and Ms. Sweetheart for letting you do your art project?”

Harris’s little chest swells as he inhales deeply, storing up as much oxygen as he can fit in his lungs before bellowing, “THANK YOUUUUUUU!”

Eddie brings his palm to his ear canal, rotating his forefinger as though trying to repair a punctured eardrum. “Love the enthusiasm,” he says through gritted teeth. “Seriously, though. Thank you both so much.”

“Of course,” Will says warmly, picking up the marker bin and placing it in its space on the shelf.

“Anything for Harris.” You smile, motioning towards the little boy already by his father’s side. “Have fun trick-or-treating tonight, bud! I can’t wait to hear about all the yummy candy you got.”

Harris scrunches his nose in contemplation. “Are you going trick-or-treating, Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Nah,” you laugh, “I’m gonna stay home and give candy to all the kids who come by.” And pray that Grandma doesn’t curse them out, you silently add.

“Oh.” Harris pauses, grabbing his dad’s hand. “Okay, bye!”

Eddie chuckles as his son pulls him towards the door. “That’s my cue. Um, Happy Halloween,” he adds awkwardly, waving once before disappearing down the hallway.

There’s so much more that he wants to say: you’re the best; you saved the day; you should be my son’s teacher instead of that old, bitchy bat. But he didn’t have time. Maybe another day. At least, that’s what he tells himself. 

Wayne arrives just a few minutes after Eddie and Harris get home. As soon as his gruff voice comes over the intercom, Harris excitedly buzzes him in. “Grampa Wayne’s here!” he yells, even though Eddie’s standing right next to him. He grabs the pillowcase from the couch; it was originally white, but after Eddie accidentally threw in a red sock with the white laundry, it’s tinted light pink.

No sooner does the older man cross the threshold into the apartment, Harris is trying to drag him out again. “Let’s go, before all the good candy is gone!” he whines. His eyebrows pinch together and he drops his grandfather’s hand. “Oh, wait, I gotta show you something.” He scampers off into the kitchen, and Wayne winces when he hears the rattle of magnets falling to the floor.

“I’m okay!” Harris calls out, running back with a piece of paper in his hand. “Look what I drawed at school today!” He gives Wayne the rundown of who’s who.

Wayne analyzes each person in the picture, stopping at the overlapping circles between you and Eddie. “This is great, Har-Bear,” he muses. “Are, um, are Daddy and Ms. Sweetheart holding hands?”

“Mhm,” Harris casually confirms, taking the drawing back. “‘Cause they’re married.”

Eddie chokes on air as Wayne does a double-take. “Congrats, Ed,” he jokes, clapping a hand to his nephew’s shoulder. “Gotta say, I thought I’d at least get an invite.”

“Shut up,” Eddie grumbles, rolling his eyes. “Harris, why do you think that Ms. Sweetheart and I are married?” He wracks his brain for answers, but he can’t come to a logical conclusion. Did I talk about her in my sleep? Oh, shit, what if it was when I had that dream—

“Because you gived her a present,” Harris says, eyes innocent and wide. “And when grown-ups love each other, they give each other presents.”

“Oh, he gave Ms. Sweetheart a present, huh?” On the surface, Wayne’s words are as innocuous as Harris’s, but Eddie hears the teasing buried just beneath. 

Harris nods. “Mhm. He gived her a tape!”

“It was the Toni Braxton one that she came into the shop for…that day that, uh…” Eddie raises his eyebrows at his uncle, who nods in acknowledgment. He brings his focus back to his son. “It doesn’t mean that we’re married. People have to go on dates and fall in love before they get married.”

The young boy absorbs this information. “So you should go on dates and fall in love with Ms. Sweetheart!” His face lights up at the idea of it, and it breaks Eddie’s heart to let him down. 

So, he doesn’t. 

“Why don’t you hang that back up so we can get outta here and get you some candy, huh?” He forces a smile and watches his son scamper into the kitchen before turning back to Wayne and shaking his head. 

Harris peels a magnet off of the fridge, the one Eddie bought him on their Daddy-Son day. It has a sea lion balancing a beach ball on its snout, with HAWKINS ZOO printed in bolded letters along the bottom.  

Lowering his voice to a whisper, he speaks directly to his drawing. “When Daddy and Ms. Sweetheart fall in love and get married, I’ll finally have a mommy.” He presses his hand flat against the paper as though he’s sealing in the wish. He stays like that for a moment until his dad calls his name, and he clutches his pillow case as they head out the door. 

Eddie assumes that the love and marriage talk is done for the evening, but the feeling of relief doesn’t last long. The trio of Munson men is halfway down the stairwell when Wayne starts instigating. “Hey, Har, is Ms. Sweetheart pretty?”

“WAYNE!” Eddie grits his teeth and shoots a sharp look at his uncle. The last thing he needs is for Harris to get his hopes up about a blossoming romance between his dad and his former teacher. 

“Oh, yeah!” Harris gleefully agrees, oblivious to the mounting tension. He grips the railing and jumps from the second to last step onto the tiled landing below. “Super pretty! Like a princess.”

The eldest Munson turns to Eddie. “Didja hear that? Pretty like a princess.”

“I heard him,” Eddie replies tersely. 

“Daddy?”

No. Don’t ask me. Harris Wayne Munson, do not ask me what I think you’re going to—

“Do you think Ms. Sweetheart is pretty?”

Although he anticipated the question, Eddie still freezes. If he disagrees, Harris will inevitably want to know why not. And if he’s being honest with himself, he can’t name a single ugly thing about you. 

He does think you’re pretty. He thinks you’re beautiful. Gorgeous. Stunning. And even though he’s literally seen you naked, fully on display for him–a memory he revisits more often than he’s willing to admit–it’s the thought of what you did today that solidifies your beauty. The way you’d effortlessly calmed Harris down without Eddie even having to ask. The frown on his face almost instantly became a smile, the flow of his tears ceasing and turning into the giggles that brought sunlight into Eddie’s life. You did that.

Any woman can be sexy, but you? In that moment, you were perfect.

Fuck. 

“Daddy? Hello?”

At the sound of Harris’s voice, Eddie realizes that he physically hasn’t moved from his spot on the stairs. His hand is gripping the banister so tightly that it leaves an imprint in his palm. “Yeah, buddy,” he manages through his Sahara Desert throat. “I think Ms. Sweetheart’s pretty.”

“Like a princess?” Wayne’s eyes twinkle mischievously. It’s been a long time since he’s been able to tease his nephew about a crush, and he’s not passing up this limited opportunity. 

“Yeah. Like a princess.”

Education outsiders might think that Halloween is one of the worst days to be a teacher. The lethal combination of sugar and excitement barely contained in tiny costumed bodies seems like a recipe for disaster. But any teacher worth their salt will tell you that there is a day far, far worse than Halloween: November 1st. 

On Halloween, there is the expectation for fun. There’s a costume parade, classroom trick-or-treating, and even a little party. The kids are out of control, but who cares? It’s Halloween. 

But on November 1st, there is work to be done. And you’re expected to teach the months of the year to 10 four-year-olds who are suffering from candy hangovers and won’t stop asking why they can’t go trick-or-treating again today. 

You and Will are preparing for battle as students trickle in, excited to show off the candy stashes they acquired the night before. Abby Carver cries because she ate her Reese’s cup and now she’s sad that it’s gone. Joshua Harrington is continuing to “sling webs” at the other kids despite your incessant reminders that he is no longer Spider-Man. A fight over a KitKat bar breaks out not even five minutes into the day, and you confiscate it before someone causes serious bodily harm. 

Two fingers lightly tap on your shoulder—too high up to be a kid—and you whirl around with an irritated, “what?”

“Whoa,” Eddie says, concern etched into his otherwise soft features. He takes a small step back, nearly tripping over a rogue Lego that somehow made its way out of the toy area. He stumbles but catches his balance easily. “Everything okay?”

“‘S a warzone out here,” you try and joke, but you feel it fall flat. You’re too tired for humor. Grandma may not have yelled at the trick-or-treaters like you’d feared, but she did get increasingly angrier with each knock on the door. After the fifth time of her snarling at you to “shut the hell up” (like you could simultaneously be on both sides of the door), you’d relented and just put the candy bowl on the welcome mat, scribbling “TAKE ONE” on a yellow sticky note, adhering it to the plastic container. 

Two decades earlier, Halloween at Grandma’s house had a completely different connotation. She’d have a little pizza party all set up for you, and she’d buy a big bag of your favorite candy, in case you didn’t get enough during your door-to-door quests. And she’d always let you watch whatever spooky movie your heart desired, regardless of your parents’ rules. 

“That’s what grandmas are for,” she’d said with a wink, and the two of you curled up to watch Little Shop of Horrors. Her demeanor matched the hokey magnet on her fridge that read, If I knew how fun my grandkids would be, I would’ve had them first. You’d stay like that until you both fell asleep, only being roused by your parents arriving to pick you up. The good old days, before Grandma waking up involved watching the confusion in her eyes as she tried and failed to place you.

“C-Can I help you with something?” Your guard goes up immediately when you notice that Harris isn’t with him. The time you’d spent together after school yesterday had been nice, fun, even, but you couldn’t trust that today would be the same. Not after what happened a few short weeks ago. 

“I, um…I just swung by to give you this.” He reaches into the inner pocket of his denim jacket; it’s the same one that he lent to Harris when he’d forgotten his at home. A flash of yellow paper catches your eye, and he unfurls his palm to reveal a small bag of peanut M&Ms. “You said they were one of your favorites, right?”

You look at the treat, not willing to reach out and grab it. What if it’s a joke? An elaborate ploy to reel you in, just to shout “gotcha” when you finally let your walls come down?

“Are they poisoned or something?” you quip, crossing your arms over your chest. “Did you spike them with Ex-Lax?”

Eddie’s lips part in surprise before he collects himself. “Guess I deserve that,” he mumbles. “But, no. They’re not. I swear on James Hetfield’s life.” He drags his fingernail over his heart in an X-formation. 

You take the bag, inspecting it for any sign of tampering, but you come up short. The edges are sealed, and there are no pinpricks as far as your eyes can see. “Dipped into Harris’s stash for me?”

“Hey, these bad boys are technically mine for the taking until he figures out that he can eat them without dying.” Eddie chuckles lightly, peering at you through impossibly long lashes. “But, yeah, I was hoping you’d accept these as part of my apology. Or apologies, I guess. For, uh, for not calling when I said I would, and all of the awful shi—awful things I said to you.” His voice is barely above a whisper as he steps closer and says, “I am so fucking sorry.”

You make a small tear in the bag, tapping it against your palm until an M&M falls out. Popping the blue candy in your mouth, you allow the shell to start dissolving on your tongue before crunching on the peanut, hoping you can process what he’s said by the time you’re finished chewing. 

This is what you’ve been waiting for—an actual heartfelt apology. His brown eyes reflect nothing but shame and remorse, and you can tell by the way that he’s fidgeting with his rings that he’s anxiously awaiting your reply. 

His vulnerability softens you slightly, and considering you haven’t keeled over after ingesting the candy, you throw him a bone. 

“This fun size bag covers the ‘not calling’ part, but I’m gonna need a lot more candy if you want me to forgive you for what you said at the music store.” You keep your tone light; teasing, even, but there’s a layer of truth to it. He can’t merely waltz into your classroom with a gift and expect you to forget his hurtful words. 

Eddie nods, his frizzy curls brushing the tops of his denim-clas shoulders. “I know. I’ve said some pretty terrible things in my life, but that might’ve been the worst. And, um,” he fumbles his words, desperately searching for the right ones. Semantics has never been his forte. “You didn’t deserve that. It’s not true; your grandma didn’t want to forget you. And…neither do I.” When you raise your eyebrows, he starts to backtrack. “Because you’re so great with Harris; like, you understand him and stuff. He’s always talking about you.”

Daddy, do you think Ms. Sweetheart is pretty? The question replays like a song he can’t shake from his head, its melody familiar but the notes still keeping him on edge. Pretty like a princess, only instead of saving her, I’m the one who needs to be rescued. So much for Prince Charming, huh?

The M&M melts in your mouth while you formulate a response to his candid admission. Sweetness seeps into your taste buds as you try to straddle the line between careful consideration and overthinking. Speak too quickly and you might say something you’ll regret. Take too long and you’ll make this even more awkward.

“W-Well, I’m glad to hear that.” Short, simple, to the point. Your words are slightly slurred by the candy obstruction, but what else is there to say? You could add that you forgive him, but you’re truthfully not sure that you do. His words scarred, had taken your already mangled self-worth and snapped it into pieces, and so did his reasoning for hurting you. Despite the love and kindness you’d shown his son, Eddie had fully believed that you were responsible for spreading personal information that would wound him. It was exactly as Jeff had said: Eddie struck below the belt at the first sign of conflict, so determined to protect himself that he didn’t even realize that he was attacking the people on his side.

The sound of books clattering to the floor snatches your attention from him, and you whip your head to your little classroom library to see two kids standing over a pile of fallen books, guilty looks stamped on their faces. “I’ve gotta go,” you blurt out, dashing off to assess the damage. You’ve never been so grateful for your students causing mischief.

The hour hand crawls to the number two; at one point, you swore the clock was moving backwards. The chaos of the morning was only a preview of the rest of the day’s fiascos, but you and Will had navigated as best as you could.

“Jesus,” he murmurs once the kids have all been dismissed, gingerly rubbing his temples, “that was brutal. I can handle the day after Halloween; I can handle Fridays, but when they coincide? Nope, never again.” He slumps into a chair dramatically, letting his arms drape over the sides.

“Gonna have a glass of wine when you get home?” you joke, wiping Play-Doh residue from a tabletop.

Will nods. “Or a whole bottle.” His focus shifts to your desk, and he nods his chin in that direction. “I see you have something to look forward to tonight, too.”

You follow his gaze, widening your eyes when you see the object he’s referring to. A bag of peanut M&Ms–much bigger than the one you’d inhaled this morning–sits on top of your desk calendar; resting next to it is a cassette. You walk over, curiosity getting the better of you. The cassette is Guns N’ Roses’ Appetite for Destruction; you recognize the iconic cover as soon as it comes into view. It’s not your usual music choice, but you’ll listen to almost anything.

There’s a piece of paper taped to the giant yellow M&M bag, folded in equal triads. Messily scrawled across the front in black ink is Ms. Sweetheart. You gently pull the adhesive loose and open the letter, nervously running your forefinger across the irregular edge where it was obviously torn from a composition notebook.

Fun size mistake=fun size bag of candy

Family size mistake=family size bag of candy

I’m really good at fucking things up, but really bad at fixing them. I wish I could say that I didn’t mean to hurt you, but we both know that I did. 

You don’t have to forgive me, but I need you to know how sorry I am. 

-Eddie

P.S. Not sure if hard rock is your thing, but I saw this at work and it reminded me of the kindness you showed our favorite little Axl Rose yesterday.

“Who’s it from?” Will asks, breaking into your thoughts. “A secret admirer?” He brings his clasped hands to his cheek in mock dreaminess.

You manage a laugh as you fold the note back up and tuck it under the calendar. “If it is, he’s really bad at it, because he signed his name.” When did he even sneak in here to do this? Kind of scary that someone could walk in and you didn’t even notice.

“Aha! So it is a guy!” Will pumps his fist triumphantly, though you’re not quite sure what he thinks he’s won.

“Just Eddie Munson, thanking us for letting Harris draw here yesterday.” 

It’s not a total lie, but Will sees right through it. “Uh-huh. Thanking us? So that note is also for me? Can I read it?” He starts towards your desk, outstretched hand reaching towards where you’d tried to hide it, but you playfully swat them away.

You glance at the clock and frown. “If you leave a little early, I won’t tell anyone.”

Will flips you off; over the last two months, you two had developed a sibling-esque relationship that came out more once the kids had left for the day. He grabs his backpack from the supply closet and slings it over his shoulders. “You’re lucky I’m exhausted, or I’d stick around and keep bothering you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You roll your eyes, knowing full well that he’s itching to leave regardless. “Gotta save up your energy for when Marshall visits.”

Will blushes at the mention of his long-distance boyfriend’s name. He still wasn’t out to many people, but when you’d casually mentioned the date Jess had with a girl named Robin, he’d felt comfortable opening up to you. “I can’t wait!” His grin is so wide you swear it’ll stretch right off of his face. “Thanks again; you’re the best.”

That leaves you alone with your gigantic bag of candy, a Guns N’ Roses cassette, and an apology that you have no idea what to do with.

Once again, Eddie Munson has given you more questions than answers.

--

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[reallyromealone]

Title: demon daddy

Fandom: Yuuri on ice

Characters: Yuuri, Viktor

Fic type: fluff

Pairings: viktuuri

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, child reader, demon Viktor, very ooc Viktor, fluff, dad Yuuri

Notes:

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Viktor was feared.

A ruthless prince of hell who was now sitting in the livingroom with infant toys and an exhausted single dad "hi! I'm sorry for doing this but I have an important skating match I can't miss and I can't bring my son and I need you to watch him for a few hours! Ok thanks bye!" And the cute Asian man ran out as Viktor looked at the tiny babe who was barely two, chewing his fist as he watched his morning Elmo "so you got a name?" Viktor asked the little one who barely broke from the screen to glance at him then Viktor saw the note on the table.

'hi! Again sorry, this is super messed up I know but I have no one else to watch my son (name)

He's one and a half, he already has been changed and had breakfast so he should be fine till about lunch, he loves games and helping, again I am so sorry'

This is the weirdest summoning he's had in a while.

Shifting into a human form, Viktor sat on the couch as (name) babbled along to the song playing before the credits roll, turning to look at the other curiously and Viktor sighed "your papa is a fool to trust such a defenceless with a demon" he teased as he lifted the babe who seemed perfectly content being in his hold, the demon getting up to check the house out, looking at the photos on the wall "you got a hot dad" Viktor said simply and (name) looked confused before babbling and chewing his fist "that's dirty, where's your pacifier" Viktor said softly as he removed the little fist from the babies mouth "you are a messy baby, are all babies this messy" he found the pacifier in its little case and popped it in the boys mouth.

(Name) Played with Viktors fingers as they walked around the two bedroom apartment, the demon snooping through the humans belongings "little human, you might have a new stepdad if I have anything to say about it" Viktor couldn't take his eyes off the humans dad whom he learned through snooping was named Yuuri, a pretty single dad who was single.

"Yeah, we love the idea of me being your stepdad!" Little (name) squealed as Viktor lifted him up high and (name) grabbed his horns curiously "your papa summoned me, silly humans"Viktor teased as he wandered the house with the boy who eventually fell asleep in his arms.

When Yuuri for home, he wasn't expecting to see a handsome demon scrolling his phone with his son slumped on his chest, face smooshed against the demon as said silver haired demon supported his little bottom and used his tail to rub his back to lull him.

"So...."

"You summoned a demon to watch your spawn, human? You have guts" Viktor chuckled and Yuuri didn't know what to do as Viktor manifested up and close "do you know what happens now, human?"

"What do you want?" Yuuri wanted to cry, he didn't think this through, what he didn't expect was a kiss "you be mine, my pretty little wife"

Yuuri was nervous as Viktor got into his space, the kiss knocking the wind out of him "i- uh.."

"Papa!" The two looked down to the now awake (name) who clung to him "haaa!"

"Of course, little one"

This answer would have to wait as (name) needed food.

[appleteeth]

Note, I tried to think of the songs that are actually hated, not just overplayed.

Don't forget to share to widen the reach!

Edit: For the people saying I missed out [popular overplayed Christmas song], this was made in response to another poll with the sort of songs you'll hear on hard rotation throughout December. (If you do have to regularly listen to any of the songs I've listed, I am so sorry.)

[midnightmayhem13]

Loves me like im brand new

how our girls show affection! enjoys loves🩶

carol danvers

carol loves making you laugh. she'll find anyway she can to cheer you up. hearing you laugh is hearing an angel laugh. trumpets from heaven. your insecure? carol will kiss every part of your body and complement each and everyone. you failed a mission? carol will show you how amazing you are and how youre the baddest bitch she's ever met. she's a goofy person and will never fail to make you laugh or smile. or when she see that pout that she finds adorable but doesn't want to see often, she attacks you with kisses. you make her feel happy and like herself again, all she wants to do is make you happy. and oh lord you better watch out for the tickles if you don't feel like talking. but carol will always respect you if you want space. you two are very patient with eachother and give eachother time to think if one of you is upset. if carol could make you smile forever, she would.

sharon carter

this girl cannot help but spoil you. she's got money and you're the love of her life, why not? you try to refuse something when it's way too expensive. but she'll beg for you to accept it. but she loves buying you simple things. your favorite flowers, favorite food, if your talented with a specific weapon she buys you personalized versions of them. she doesn't only do this bc she thinks your worth every penny in the world, she gets some pleasure out of it. she loves buying you skimpy but beautiful dresses, lingerie, and that one perfume that drives her crazy bc it's your signature scent. sugar daddy vibes? sure. she'll look at you two through the mirror, hands wrapped around your waist and her face in your neck. leaving kisses wherever she can reach. admiring her girl. she also loves buying fuzzy blankets and soft pillows for your cuddle sessions. she'd spend forever in your arms if she could.

darcy lewis

your doctor lives for physical affection. it doesn't even have to be the traditional kiss or hug. women will bite you and lick you. and not even in a sexual way. she just wants to, and you look very yummy. but she'll melt when you hold her and kiss her head. her perfect day would consist of her laying on top of you while your holding her tight and planting kisses all over her face. when she's bored and youre near she'll just hold your arm and lean her head against you. every time you guys are next to each other you have to be holding hands. not buts. but if your not familiar with physical affection, she'll take it slow and work you up. but soon enough you'll be all over each other. and she'll sit in your lap. she doesn't care who's around or if there's a seat already next to you, your lap is her chair. if you wrap your arms around her waist and give her neck and shoulder kisses she'll internally scream. cuddling is an everyday thing for you to. you to also fall asleep as if you were puzzles. you fit together perfectly, so close only leaving little room to breath. and you guys do almost everything together and want to be together all the damn time. she's crazy for you, and so are you.

nebula

now, nebula struggles with showing affection. she never got it as a child or when she grew up either. other than gamora stuff hugs. but she's learned she loves holding and staring at you. she's never seen something so beautiful, so naturally she must admire it. from afar, from up close, hell even photographically. (big word for elmo) when she find out you like her touch, she holds you protectively any chance she gets. whether it's holding your pinky with hers or her arm around your waist, she won't waste a chance. when you fall asleep in her arms she'll stare at you. eyes full of wonder. wondering how such a thing could be so gorgeous. how she could ever deserve you. as much as she admires you, she cannot stand when other people look at you. with not a single of hint of attraction or love or anything, only her. only she can look at you like that. how dare they stare at her girl. youre hers and she doesn't share.

maria hill

while maria doesn't do the best job at focusing on her needs, especially while working, she makes sure your healthy. she makes sure you eat properly, drink enough water, stretch before you workout or go on a mission, and definitely getting enough rest after every mission. injured or not. you care so much for her and bring her lunch and constantly refill her water bottle and replace her coffee with a protein shake or yet again, more water. or dragging her to bed when she's working after work. she can't lose you, so she makes sure to take care of you. omg she goes crazy when you get sick. your immediately put on a schedule. lord help anyone who's there with you if you get hurt on a mission. she'll immediately make them work out and train with nat or steve so they'll be sore as hell. or she'll train them. they'll be shaking just after one set. but hearing you say your okay or 'everything is gonna be okay' calms her immediately. you'll sometimes sneak to her office and give her massages and kisses. you ground maria nd she's not big bad shield commander around you.

kate bishop

kate loves spending time with you. seeing your smile helps her know everything will be okay. you two often go out to walk lucky and bring a pizza along and sit and play fetch with your fluffy friend. or you guys have movie nights, holding eachother close, surrounded by blankets, of course devouring some pizza. i feel like she's a lil messy eater when her moms not around. so you kiss pizza sauce off her lips. ever since she got involved with clint you two spend any free time together. it can range from extravagant dates or a walk in the park whilst sharing headphones. when you guys aren't together you video call or just regularly call. but thanks to your job you can see her often. (avenger reader?🤷‍♀️) but you two have match bracelets omg. you guys made them one day when you built a pillow fort in her apartment. you guys also workout together and train together. you two are gonna get married one day

a/n my hopeless romantic ass enjoyed this too much anyways have a good rest of your day guys🩶

[pettypuppy-jonghyun]

Family | Lee Felix

Summary: you have a daughter that Felix adopted and you both are expecting a baby boy soon

Warnings: pregnancy

Notes: this is something that's been on my mind for a little because I have a daughter and I feel like her and Felix would get along so well🥹

"What are you up to?" Felix questions, coming around the sofa to peer at the project in your hand. "It's very tiny."

You smiled, raising up the little hat you were crocheting. "It's supposed to fit a newborn's head, love. Of course it's tiny."

His eyes softened immediately at the mention of your baby who was still on his way. Felix maneuvered the pillows so he could take a seat beside you, careful of the yarn you were using and your tools. He leaned in to take a better look at the small hat that was nearly done.

"It kinda looks like..." He trails off in thought.

"Cookie monster?" You finish with a laugh.

Although he was correct, it only semi looked like the blue character. It was missing the second eye and you had yet to attach the cookie fabric bites you made previously. Still, it was quite obvious what you were attempting to create and you were proud of it. The hat was supposed to go along with the nursery theme you and your husband chose.

Suddenly, both of your attention was changed over to a high pitched giggle echoing down the hallway. Your daughter emerged shortly after the sound, running into the living room with paper in her hand. Her little feet tapped quickly against the wooden floor as she rushed to Felix.

"Look! Cookie monster!" She exclaims, practically shoving the paper into his face.

Felix pulls at the paper, holding it at an angle so he could see properly. "Would you look at that?" He glances at you with a soft smile. "This is the absolute best drawing of Cookie Monster I have ever seen."

Your daughter grins, hands folded behind her back as she swung side to side, her cheeks turning pink. You couldn't help but laugh, finding it absolutely adorable how shy she suddenly became when complimented. It only lasted a minute before she ripped the papers from his hand, passing it along to you.

"Mommy!"

You take the photo, eyeing the details of perfectly scribbled circles of blue and black. "Wow, this is art! Darling, have you ever seen such a talented artist before?" Your eyes met your husband.

Felix's eyes gave away his emotions as he continue to interact with your daughter. The amount of love and affection he had for her always made your heart swell. When he officially adopted her and became her father, you felt your puzzle all come together and be complete. You entire world was right here and you wanted to soak in every moment.

"Mommy, show the baby," your daughter suddenly demands, her hand falling onto your stomach.

You nod. "We can show him. Come here." You helped her onto the sofa, scootching her right up to your side so you both sat comfortably.

Felix watched for a moment before cuddling closer, gently moving your crochet project to the side. His arm wrapped around the back of your head, right hand coming to cup yours. He silently watched as your daughter turned her drawing to face your stomach, speaking to her unborn brother.

"You think he'll like cookie monster?" She asks, peering up at the two of you. "Or Elmo?"

Felix snorts. "I sure hope he likes cookie monster. Everything he owns is that theme." His eyes drift over to the large bins full of baby gifts you still hadn't unpacked into the nursery yet.

You shrug. "Even if he doesn't, he'll grow out of his things before he has enough conscious to tell us."

You leant your head down onto Felix's shoulder, watching as your two most dear people in the world interacted happily with one another. They even were planning for the third addition to your life, which you couldn't help but feel so excited for. You close your eyes with a smile and began to drift off to sleep.

"Mommy is sleeping, shh."

"Daddy sleep too?"

You attempted to hold back your tears as you heard her call him her father with so much love. You felt Felix tense at the name, sighing softly before responding.

"Daddy too. We can all sleep with mommy."

[swee7dream]

cg!127's cg names cg!nct 127 x f!regressor!reader

genres age regression content, fluff warnings none . author's note this is the ilichil counterpart to this post ! i will get to wayv soon :3 dni if you sexualize age regression. i'm blocking and reporting you if you break my dni :P author's note requests are open ! especially wayv reqs are welcome <3

moon taeil (´ ∀ ` *)

moon(ie), illie

moon taeil is the most grandpa-coded cg i’ve ever seen in my life

but like, a cool grandpa. like the kind that listens to doja cat with you when her songs play on the radio as he drives you to the store for candy

on nights when the full moon is out he’ll point up at the sky, saying: “that’s my home” and you’re like “??? moonie’s an alien?”

duh! that’s why he gets you down for naptime so well, his alien moon powers! (his lullabies)

so when you begin slipping in public, taeil is well aware because you get giggly over nothing. your illie is an alien and nobody knows! just you! gotta keep it a secret so he doesn’t get taken back to the moon!

seo youngho (￢‿￢ )

daddy.

basically the chenle of 127.

he just loves how sweet it sounds coming out of your mouth! makes him want to crush you in a hug and leave kisses all over your cute baby face!

likes referring to the two of you as a duo, a package deal, a 2-in-1!

“daddy and baby gotta go to bed now, okay?”

“daddy and dolly are going on a picnic today, isn’t that exciting?”

“daddy and bug gotta be nice to each other. none of that pranking business.”

really hates pranks because all he wants is to keep you safe and here you are acting like you broke something just because you find his reaction funny! not cool >:(

lee taeyong (.❛ ᴗ ❛.)

bubu + mommy

king does not care what you call him as long as you’re comfortable. if you asked him his preference, however, he would say those two

has been reading up on the most random of subjects because every time you call for him it’s always to ask a question. his curious baby!

“bubu, what’s that bird?”, “how old is the oldest tree in the world?” “mama, can i eat hair dye?”

he sat you down for that last one, chucking out any home dye under the sinks and letting you know that the next time you want to paint your hair any pretty color it’ll have to be at a proper hair salon

nakamoto yuta (￣ω￣)

yuta + daddy

the way his name comes out like in a little song when you’re small warms his heart, how could he negate you anything?

daddy is more of a title he uses for himself. it comes out more natural to refer to himself as a daddy when talking in third person than his name

he says it reminds him of elmo so he doesn’t like it

has a strong hatred for elmo??? the one-sided beef is crazy and has no real origin. he just hates the red blob and namecalls it any chance he gets. he’s like an actual bully and only scoffs and rolls his eyes when you tell him he’s only 3 (and a half!)

“as if. and grass is purple, baby.” “it is?” “no, sweetheart. it’s not.”

acts so betrayed when you regressed by yourself and he catches you watching sesame street

kim dongyoung （´▽｀）

doie

you guys tried different names but ultimately, it was doie that stuck

fun fact: before you guys ended up finally choosing a proper name for doyoung, you called him bunny!

you were a bit sad to have to stop calling him that. you thought it was cute but also understood that doyoung didn’t feel like you could take him seriously when it was ‘bunny’ telling you it’s time to turn the ipad off and get ready for bed

to make up for it, doyoung took you to build-a-bear! you named your little rabbit bunny and he has a voice recording of doyoung’s voice playing the character of being doie’s rabbit twin!

it also smells like doie’s cologne and you always have it nearby to cuddle with at night when he’s away

jeong yunoh o(〃＾▽＾〃)o

hyunnie + mister

he loves- no, adores being called mister. he acts like it doesn’t phase him but he’s got his smug little smirk every time you call him so

for that reason you barely call him that. you like having the upper hand any chance you get and honestly? he hasn’t caught on yet

he likes hyunnie too though, he supposes. it sounds like honey! hyunnie and honey <3 the ultimate pair <3

hyunnie is used for common conversation and mister is used for manipulation I MEAN convincing for things like a second dessert or a new dress for one of your dolls ! MAYBE a kiss on the cheek helps too. you don’t even know what manipulation is! you’re just tiny!

dong sicheng ♡���( ु•⌄• )

read here when published !

kim jungwoo (☆^ー^☆)

woo, also woowoo

jungwoo has a habit of starting random games of hide ‘n’ seek when you’re small, suddenly disappearing mid-chocolate milk preparation

when you call out for him (‘woo?’) he’ll reply with another ‘woo!’ until you guys are woo-woo-ing each other to find where he’s hiding!

he also likes playing ambulance

not doctor, ambulance.

you find a mystery bruise on your leg and all of a sudden jungwoo’s holding you up in the air and he’s going ‘wee woo wee woo wEE WOO’ all around your home until your stomach hurts from laughing so much

lee minhyung (ᓀ‸ᓂ)

read here !

lee donghyuck ʕ˙Ⱉ˙‧:ʔ

read here !

tag list ( ask / comment to join ! ) @mystarsohee @cupofwyn @iwontlettheselittlethingsslip @aeriaeri

[asmolguy]

Gonna make a list of characters that are so painfully little coded everything in my brain just goes “baby” whenever I watch them. Plus one caregiver. (And one real dude which feels kinda rude since he’s just like. A guy. Living his life. So you can ignore that one. But I wanted to point it out.)

Lloyd from Lego ninjago. Dude. Canon family trauma + canon forced to end his childhood early. Prime agere material. There are so many good fics of little Lloyd just littling. He’s tiny boi. So baby. So perfect.

Cole from Lego ninjago. He is. So caregiver built. I think it hurts to watch sometimes. So gentle so sweet. Get this man a child or a little or something to care for I swear. He just needs to parent. It’s in his blood and carved into his bones.

Branch from trolls. Ya’ll did you watch movie 3? The family trauma times two. The way he uses a pacifier to lock in. Someone was straight up weaving that into the fabric of his being as a character. He’s not little coded he’s little written. Plus in the show he has a little stuffie named Croco and I love that for him. There’s also some good agere Branch fics, but not enough. I need more. Pwease. He is so smol and so grumpy just everyone write him as the baby boi he deserves to be I beg.

Spider-Man but specifically for ultimate Spider-Man (btw if anyone’s looking for good regression shows and you fall around like 5-10 it’s a very good show because it’s long and has a good mix of humor and that show is my jam dude when I’m big and little). But anyone. Ultimate Spider-Mans Spider-Man is so stressed all of the time. He is just a teen. And he’s handling so many unruly teens. And in the later seasons when he’s handling the entirety of shield while being worried about nova. Give the boy a break and let someone take care of him. He’s both little and caregiver coded btw. I adore the fics where everyone calls him daddy longlegs because that is straight up what the last season is. Just him being a father to all these troubled ass powered teenagers while being so troubled himself. But then he’s also so little. He pouts and needs so much love and he’s scared all of the time and he is traumatized and then that one ep where that got turned into those weird chibi things the show tried to convince us were children I want to believe awakened something in him and he is now little sometimes.

Ian Hecox. Listen. I am aware that he is just a dude. Like a real guy. Who cannot be coded because he just exists. But I see. So much of myself in him. It kind of makes a part of my heart hurt that no one like every really seriously criticizes his more childish behavior (even for the bit on a YouTube video) because it makes me feel better about the small ways I slip in public or with my friends sometimes. There’s literally “everyone babying Ian hecox” comps online. His habit of saying scawed or newvous is unironically a blessing and curse since now all my friends who also watch Smosh do it so it’s not weird if I do it but then sometimes I have to pause and be like “is this for the bit or am I slipping right now. Both? Neither?” That one tntl (#91) where they did the blind pairs (btw one of the funniest ones ever in my opinion absolute hall of famer, the fish one, burning the pool, m’lei, all incredible bits. It’s like. The video I show people to try to get them into Smosh.) and Ian puts on overalls and walks out with an Elmo and is like “I’m five” and then after the bit is over he stays in character and when he’s like “elmo…” and damien is like “yeah bud I made sure to miss him with the spit” and then Ian drags the toy through he spit and everyone in the room is just like “aww man” like everyone is truly just like Ian dude you got your stuffed animal wet. Also Anthony being able to fully pick Ian up and carry him multiple ways. If you watch the behind the scenes for the my best friend is dead video Anthony 1. Is pumped to pick Ian up. 2. Does a baby cradle with Ian more than successfully. 3. Says “I got you bud” when Ian gets nervous and Ian goes “ok” in this tiny little voice and instantly relaxes. 4. When Anthony puts Ian down Ian follows him making grabby hands and says “I want uppies”. More little Ian caregiver Anthony fics when. Except not really because again don’t really want to put any of this on real people just doing comedic bits that I happen to feel in my soul a bit too much.

And finally, Max thunderman. I mean. Just watch the show. The pouts. The frequent fake sobbing and sniffling. The fact that he needs a childhood back after Phoebe was put on a pedestal. Someone give me soft thundertwins fic where max is a little and Phoebe is a cargegiver please I need it. And I am. So bad at writing. I would love you forever and ever if you did.

[forever-more-never-again]

Out of context quotes between my coworker and I (we're both female)

Coworker: Oh, please, be my guest

Me: My name's not Belle

~~~~

Coworker: Your handwriting is like an old Mans

Me: Call me Grandpa

~~~~

Coworker: We're like an old married couple

Me: I'm divorcing you

~~~~

Me: You should've read my mind

Coworker: If only I had a timemachine

Me: I'd use it to kick you

~~~~

Me: I'm sweaty

Coworker: Sweating like a horndog in church

~~~~

Me: It be broke

Coworker: we're broke

~~~~

Coworker: You need to start eating more veggies

Me: You sound like my dad now

Coworker: Am I your daddy?

Me: I'll smack you with a wet tortilla

~~~~

Coworker: Beans!

Me: Beans?

Coworker: Beans!

Me: Beans!

~~~~

Me: Abbs means no armpits, boobs or Butts

Coworker: What if I show some tasteful sideboob?

Me: There's nothing tasteful about you

~~~~

Me: Chocolate is gonna become only for the rich

Coworker: Eat the rich

~~~~

Me: dada dada dada dada Elmo's world

Coworker: I'm gonna sue

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

happy halloween - have a few, quickly-written little headcanons on the svech babies and their halloween costumes 🎃

evie’s six months old for her first halloween and you go a little nuts buying a bunch of different costumes but she ends up going as a little bunny, complete with a stuffed carrot and everyone freaks out over how cute she is

you and andrei also wear bunny ears to go as a little bunny family

alina’s only three months old for her first halloween and evie’s almost three so you go for a family costume again - this time it’s winnie the pooh characters. andrei is tigger, evie is pooh, you’re eeyore, and alina is piglet. the costumes are so freaking hot so you’re glad it’s actually a cold halloween in raleigh for once

when you zip andrei into the giant onesie, he shakes his head and laughs, “didn’t think i would be so damn happy to dress up in an adult onesie, solnyshka.”

kira is eleven months old at her first halloween and walking, but none of the girls want anything to do with a family costume since they all have their own choices. except then it’s two days before halloween and the bigger girls both decide they hate their costumes and want new ones - daddy to the rescue. disney princess family costumes here you come

evie is sleeping beauty, alina is ariel, kira is cinderella and they’re all very very excited about the twirly dresses

andrei has a wicked look in his eye when he pulls a fourth and fifth costume from the giant box - a yellow ball gown for you and a prince costume for himself - belle and the beast

“my hair’s even long enough,” he grins, having been too busy to get a haircut. he’ll never admit it, but he’s just as into the family costumes as you are

by the time dimitri is born, he’s only two months old and you’re exhausted. andrei handles halloween again - the girls go as different superheros (wonder woman, supergirl, and batgirl) daddy’s wearing a batman mask and a huge goofy grin

dimitri gets a little teddy bear onesie, complete with ears and little tail, so he can be warm and bundled while you push him in the stroller as the girls trick or treat. andrei has a little superman shirt that he puts on over dimitri’s onesie because he “has to match the rest of us, solnyshka”

“i’m not dressed up to match you guys”

“don’t worry about that, i have just the thing”

andrei produces a t-shirt that says “super mom” on it for you and a little matching cape that he hooks around your neck with a kiss to your cheek

maks is just about a month old for his first halloween - he gets dimitri’s bear onesie and one year old dimitri is in a little elmo from sesame street

there’s a period of several halloweens where both boys only want to be daddy for halloween and traipse around the neighborhood in their svechnikov jerseys and helmets, insisting on carrying around sticks until they get bored and you end up carrying the sticks

evie bosses her younger siblings around one year because she wants to be dorothy from wizard of oz, but needs her cast of characters. so. kira and alina end up as the wicked witch and glinda, respectively. you’re the scarecrow, andrei is the tin man, dimitri is the cowardly lion, and poor little maks ends up as toto

the year the kids all decide to do their own different costumes and don’t want to do a coordinated family one is a dark year for andrei - he pouts and complains about the kids growing up, so you promise to do a couples’ costume with him and that’s how you end up dressed in matching pirate costumes with andrei’s hand up your skirt most of the night and a brief pregnancy scare six weeks later

[kymanitaylorsversion]

Hazbin Hotel Incorrect Quotes but Make it Vine

Adam: *Sliding down the stair rails* You're all going to hell, bye

Random "bad boy": *vaping*

Nifty: wooow

Lucifer at rubber duckies: Wow, look at all those chickens

Sir Pentious: *dancing to take me on then turns around*(braces girl vine)

Angel Dust: How much money do you have?

Sir Pentious: 69 cents

Angel Dust: oh, you know what that means

Sir Pentious: *teary-eyed* I don't have enough money for chicken nuggets

Charlie trying to do team building exercises: Angel has 19 bottles of dish soap and he gives Vaggie-

Sir Pentious: Why does Angel have so many bottles of soap?

Angel Dust: MIND YO BUSINESS PENTIOUS

Adam: Alright, Charlie[class] you can do[be] anything you want

Charlie: I wanna bring sinners to heaven[be the president]

Adam: Aw, Charlie try a little bit smaller things

Charlie: BITCH YOU SAID I COULD BE ANYTHING I WANT

Alastor: *runs up to charlie*

Charlie: Daddy?

Lucifer: DOES HE LOOK LIKE-

Husker to Angel Dust: Has anyone ever told you you look like Beyonce?

Angel Dust: nah they usually tell me I look like Angel

Husker: Who the fuck is that?

Angel Dust: Me, ni-

Charlie: *singing* Oh yeah, wait a minute Mr. Podcast Man[postman]

Alastor going along with her shenanigans: *vocalizing* oooohoh yeah

Angel Dust: pinkywinky boom boom dance *starts shaking ass*

Angel Dust: Then in here, 2 shots of vodka *pours a half the bottle*

Charlie about Husk and Angel: *on the phone with Lucifer* And they were roomates!

Vox watching through his TVs: omg they were roomates

Alastor: *throws a frisbee towards the highway*

Lucifer: wHaT tHe FuCk, Alastor

Angel Dust venting in his room to Fat Nuggets about Valentino: GIVE ME YOUR FUCKING MONEY *throws doll against the wall*

Sir Pentious in that one song: oh hi, thanks for checking in on me, I'm ✨still a piece garbaaaage✨

Angel Dust: I'm being abused at work by Valentino[I spilled lipstick in your Valentino Bag]

Charlie: You're whawhawhawha being abused at work by Valentino?![You whawhawhawha spilled lipstick in my Valentino white bag]

Sir Pentious doing karaoke for one of Charlie's team building activities: till i cant no more, WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOOOOR

Angel Dust: *tries to work*

Valentino: *punches him*

Angel Dust: ah, fuck, I can't believe you've done this

Charlie: Hey, I'm lesbian

Lucifer: I thought you were from hell[American]

Charlie trying to help Angel Dust ascend: There's only one thing worse than a (r-word)ist *pulls back paper*

Angel Dust: A child.

Charlie: No.

Angel Dust: AEAEAEAEAEAE

Valentino: WHY ARE YOU RUNNING WHY ARE YOU RUNNING

Adam when Charlie proposed for sinners to go to heaven: No off-topic questions. Because I don't want to. No. Denied. That's an off-topic question. You have been stopped.

Alastor: WHAT ARE THOOOOSE

Lucifer: They are my rubber duckies[crocs]!

Husker singing Loser Baby: *Pours a box of Life cereal and lemons fall out* well, when life gives you lemons

Angel Dust venting about Valentino: *beating up stuffed moth[elmo]* FUCKING DUMB ASS BITCH VALENTINO[elmo] I FUCKING HATE YOU

Lute when Adam died: Ms. Kesha? Ms. Kesha? Oh my fucking god she fucking dead

Angel Dust: Don't tell your mother

Husker: Kiss one another

Both: DIE FOR EACH OTHER

Alastor every time he almost dies: *disappears* I'm a bad bitch, you can't kill me

*The other hotel members casually taking a photo*

Charlie: Everybody say Hazbin Hotel[Colorado]

Sir Pentious: *comes from out of nowhere* I'M A GIRAFFE

[imcrazierthanyouloosers]

My favorite parts of my production of urinetown (Part Two)

The sound cue on "Miss Pennywise" and "Caldwell"

Getting slow-mo beaten up

Bobby flirting with hope the entirety of run freedom run

Everyone being madly in love with bobby in run freedom run

Officer lockstock and little Sally sobbing hysterically into handkerchiefs after follow your heart

Little sally's look of utter horror as Lockstock calmly narrates everyone's demise

Hot blades harry using an inhaler like he's doing drugs after snuff that girl

"YOU CAN PUNISH OUR BODIES MR CLADWELL BUT YOU CAN NEVER PUNISH OUR SPIRTSSSSSS!" (demonic elmo pose)

Ghost arm wiggles after Tiny Tom and Old Man strong speak

Cladwell mewing on "you're making me BLUSh now"

"A RIVER?" Absolutely possessed voice of Ol' Ma strong

Hotblades Harry slinging an arm around Mcqueen and leaning his head on his shoulder "with whomever you like"

Hotblades harry blowing his nose with hopes hair after tell her I love her

the disgusted looks on the poors faces during the "i'm not sorry reprise"

"WHY NOT" (throws a Hotblades tantrum like child)

"To manipulate great masses of people daddy" (sad face as Cladwell dismisses said great masses of people)

Bobby high fiving the poor during look at the sky

Barrel and Lockstock posing in kung fu poses as bobby shouts "run, run for your lives!"

Bobby opting up in run freedom run after blowing a kiss at little becky

little becky passes out from too much bobby strong

the memos Bobby was handing out (heart, BS)

"Hello Bobby" Angry "Hello hope"

Our fipp hopping around on the floor as a bunny, fully scrunched up

Hotblades has a toliet tattoo

Everyone killing someone new every night with different methods and degrees of violence

Pennywise grabbing Bobby strong's face in look at the sky

the multiple fights and mental breakdowns happening in look at the sky whilst being frozen

Possibly More to follow this one