#he has a world's greatest mom mug

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

Steve knows the kids don't mean it when they make him feel stupid. Mostly because they're just as dumb as they are smart. If they were curious enough, they'd stick a fork in an outlet. That's what Steve was for, and he's okay with looking out for them until they realize they can start doing it for themselves. They're learning. . .slowly.

Of course, Eddie doesn't realize this until after Vecna, and he's running around like a chicken with his head cut off and he's trying to stop Max from smothering Mike with a pillow in his sleep. Suddenly, he's a stressed-out dad smoking on the back porch at the homecoming party they've thrown at the Munson's new home. He's watching them run around the backyard, looking tired, and Wayne is laughing at him.

"It's not funny," Eddie muttered. "I love those kids but they're going to make me go gray."

"Or lose your hair," Wayne said in amusement.

"Don't even joke about that," Eddie said.

"Got you something, boy," Wayne said and handed him a small box.

Eddie opened it up to reveal a world's greatest dad mug. He looked up to find Wayne drinking out of a world's greatest grandpa mug.

"Seriously? Did you buy that for yourself?" Eddie asked.

"Yep."

Steve came out on the porch, drinking out of a world's greatest mom mug.

"Not you too," Eddie said.

"I think it's funny," Joyce said from beside Hopper.

"Even if it's about one of your kids?" Eddie asked, and she just grinned.

"You know, I think Will and El are the only ones we don't have to worry about," Steve grinned, sitting next to Eddie. "They're angels."

"That's true. . .wait, what's Max doing to Mike?" Eddie asked.

"Well, it looks like Mike has fallen asleep in the grass, and Max is. . .Max is giving Mike a free haircut," Steve said as he sipped his coffee.

"Yeah, I figured that was coming when Mike said skateboarding is stupid," Hopper said.

"You knew Max would cut his hair?" Eddie asked.

"You gave her the scissors, didn't you?" Steve asked.

Hopper stared off in the distance as he sipped his own cup of coffee. Joyce looked at her husband in horror.

"Hop!"

"Should we stop him?" Eddie asked.

"Nah," Steve said.

"What did he say to you?" Eddie asked.

"Well, Dustin joked about us acting like a married couple, and Mike said that I would never marry you in a million years," Steve scoffed and looked at Eddie seriously. "I would marry you in a heartbeat, baby."

Mike yawned and stretched, his brows furrowing.

"Does anyone else feel a breeze?" Mike asked.

"He's looking this way," Eddie said with a grin. "May I kiss you in front of everyone?"

"Absolutely," Steve said with a grin.

Eddie leaned forward and captured Steve’s lips with his.

"Finally," Robin said, coming out of the house.

She was sipping on a mug filled with tea. On the mug, it said: world's worst godmother. Dustin came out a moment later wearing a hat that said: world's loudest child. Eddie glanced at Wayne with an amused look.

"You really went all out, huh?" Eddie asked.

"We had plenty of hush money," Wayne shrugged.

As Max wondered inside, she handed Dustin a pair of scissors.

"What am I supposed to do with these?" He asked.

"Oh my God! My hair!" Mike shrieked. "Henderson! You're dead!"

"It wasn't me, I swear!" Dustin exclaimed and ran off when Mike started chasing him.

"Dustin! You butthead!" Eddie exclaimed. "No running with scissors!"

[cowboydisaster]

Just Like You

pairing: SImon "Ghost" Riley x single mom reader word count: 1.6k summary: Ghost can't get used to the fact that he's your son's favorite person in the world, but damn- he's trying. ("You- You're me for Halloween??") a/n: this fic references the comics, so for those who didn't know: Joseph was Simon's nephew. Super angsty and fluffy. Simon bonding with your kid. beta read by @margowritesthings

masterlist

Leo loves Halloween. It’s your son’s favorite time of year. The five year old boy, with your help, worked incredibly hard on his costume, and he’s sure it's going to be the best costume on the block. You may be a little biased, but really, it’s very good. Leo has put extra effort into perfecting every detail of his costume, because this year is special.

It’s the first year that Simon will be accompanying Leo with trick or treat. Leo loves Simon to pieces– but Simon can’t figure out why. The soldier elicits fear from nearly everyone that he encounters, his mask makes children scream and run in the other direction. Hell, his mask makes adults piss themselves in the field. Many enemy soldiers have surrendered at the sight of Ghost running towards them. So Simon can’t wrap his head around the fact that his girlfriend’s little boy looks up at him like he’s the greatest person in the world. 

Simon is less than stellar with children. He tries, but he’s not entirely sure how to talk to them. He’s always a little awkward, generally avoiding children when he can, but this one seeks him out. Simon loves you more than anything, and he wants to form a relationship with Leo, he’s just not exactly sure how. He’s trying, for you and the boy. Leo’s biological dad is a piece of shit, which Simon has lived through, and he tries to shield the poor kid from that pain as much as possible. Maybe it’s because Leo reminds him so much of Tommy and Joseph, but your kid is special. 

–

“You ready, bud?” You ask, pulling a hoodie over your frame. It’s Simon’s and it’s oversized, stopping just above your knees. But it's comfortable, and late-October in Manchester is not. Immediately, you find yourself encompassed in its warmth and the smell of Simon’s cologne.

“Almost, mummy!” Leo yells from the bathroom. “Simon is gonna love this!”

You chuckle, “I know he will, baby.” You grab the fresh mug of tea from your nightstand and head down the carpeted stairs. Simon was to be here an hour before trick or treat. You check your watch. 18:00. As if on cue, the doorbell rings, sounding out loudly through your little home. Always punctual. Leo squeals out of excitement at the sound.

“Coming!” You holler, padding across the chilly living room towards the door. You jog lightly, causing a few drops of tea to spill over from the lip of your mug, dripping down to the floor and splashing against the hardwood floor. Ignoring the little mess, you pull the frosted glass door open. Simon is wearing his less civilian mask with the hard plastic skull face. You’d specifically requested that he wear it, though he wasn’t sure why.

“You can just come in, you know. You don’t have to ring the doorbell.” You chuckle, nodding for him to come in. He steps inside the door, hands softly gripping onto your waist as he kicks the door shut. 

“I told you to keep your door locked.” Simon raises an eyebrow, squeezing your waist. 

“Oh, right…” You hum, squinting your eyes as you recall that conversation, “I forgot.”

“Course you did, love.” Simon smirks, “Happy Halloween.” he says, and you chuckle, gripping his skull mask by the teeth and pushing it up over his face. His scarred lips are sporting a smile, and you kiss it away. It’s over all too quick as he pulls away, nodding towards the cup of tea in your hand. 

“The kettle’s still on, yeah?” He asks, pulling the mask back down over his face. 

“Yes, I��ll get you a cuppa.” You roll your eyes playfully. He’s cutting your kisses short for tea, something he’ll make up for later, you’re sure. Simon glances around the living room, noting the few abandoned truck toys that lie around the living room.

“Where’s Leo?” Simon asks, looking around the living room as you walk towards the kitchen. 

“He’s just finishing getting ready upstairs. Why don’t you go up? I'll bring your tea up.” You hum, grabbing a tea bag and Simon’s favorite mug. You hear heavy footsteps going up the stairs, and take that as his response. 

You shake your head, amused as you slowly pour the steaming water over the tea bag, watching it turn a rich brown. Once it’s properly mashed, you add his preferred amount of milk and sugar, and then carefully start up the stairs. Your footsteps are naturally much quieter than Simon’s, and with the added fact that you’re trying not to spill his tea, he doesn’t hear you coming up the steps. You reach the top, and stop dead in your tracks at the sight around the corner. Simon is walking towards Leo’s bedroom, but from the angle you’re at, you can see Leo hiding around the corner as if he's about to scare Simon. Leo is fully dressed in his Halloween costume, a little replica of the exact outfit Simon is currently wearing, skull mask and all.

“Boo!” Leo screams, rounding the corner that Simon was just about to go around.

Simon clutches his chest, jumping back a comical amount. Simon literally screams, attempting to sound terrified. Obviously Simon isn’t scared in the least, but Leo doesn’t know that. Simon lets the boy proudly think that his costume is scary enough to frighten the unshakeable. Leo’s smile is as bright as ever under his mask, and you grip the cup of tea a little tighter as a smile pulls at your own lips. Simon’s eyes are comically wide as he fakes terror for the young boy. Entirely satisfied with Simon’s reaction, Leo pulls his mask off, giggling madly. 

“It’s okay, Simon! It’s just me, don't be scared!” Leo giggles, jogging up towards Simon who is bent over at the waist, pretending to gasp for breath and holding his chest.

“Bloody hell, mate. You nearly gave me a heart attack!” Simon chuckles, scooping Leo up into his arms. Once settled on Simon’s hip, Leo holds the plastic mask up to Simon’s face. It’s an exact replica of the mask he’s currently wearing, just much smaller. 

“Look! I'm just like you for Halloween!” Leo smiles, showing Simon all the little details that he’d put into perfecting his mask. 

“You–” Simon’s brow furrows, “You’re me for Halloween?” He asks, piecing it all together. Leo holds the mask out to Simon, who takes it and looks over the smaller version of Ghost’s infamous skull mask. 

“Yep! Do you like it…?” Leo asks, sounding a bit worried. His little eyebrows pull together, and Simon is quick to reassure him. 

“I love it, mate. It’s perfect, looks just like mine.” Simon whispers. There is emotion in his voice, unusual for him, you note. Tears prick your eyes as Leo puts the mask back on, looking up at Simon. 

“I wanna be like you when I grow up.” Leo says, wrapping his little arms around Simon’s neck. 

“You’re gonna be better than me, Leo. Much better, yeah?” Simon whispers, looking the boy in the eyes. Leo nods, curling up against Simon’s chest. He rubs his hand up and down Leo’s back, comforting him. 

“You know, Leo, you remind me of a boy I used to know.” Simon mumbles in a rare show of emotional vulnerability, his eyes glazed over as he pats the boy’s back. 

“Who?” Leo asks, propping his chin on Simon’s chest to look up at him better. 

“Uh–” Simon hesitates. “His name was Joseph… He was my nephew.” Simon whispers, and your heart wrenches in your chest. 

“Maybe I could meet him someday and we could play.” Leo whispers, hopefully looking up. 

“Yeah. Maybe someday.” Is all Simon says, nodding lightly as old, ugly memories pull at his brain, ones he’d shoved out and burned long ago. 

“I love you, Simon.” Leo whispers, hugging his little arms as tightly around the man as he can manage. He pulls Simon out of every dark thought he was having, those three little words pulling at his heart strings. Simon hesitates, voice stuttering for a moment. 

“Yeah– I love you too, little mate.” Simon whispers, voice heavy with emotion.

“This is gonna be so much fun– Mummy even helped me with my costume!” Leo adds, unintentionally changing the subject. He creates a perfect time for you to announce your presence. 

You hastily wipe your eyes and walk up the last step, rounding the corner you were just hiding behind. You catch Simon off guard, and he turns to you, slowly placing the young boy back on the ground.

“I didn’t hear you come up.” Simon whispers, taking the mug from your outstretched hands. He’s far away, lost in thought. Leo runs down the hall to grab his treat bag as Simon wraps his arm around your waist. 

“Didn’t want to spill your cuppa.” You explain, resting your head on his chest for a moment. Leo comes back around the corner with his bag, excitedly waiting for trick or treat to begin.

You smile up at Simon, noticing a few little tear tracks running down through his eye black.

ghost taglist: @moths569

[roosterforme]

Batting Practice Part 33 The Epilogue | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Some things never seem to change for Bradley. But maybe he worked at keeping them the same. Baseball, Everett and you.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

Seventeen and a half years later...

"Happy birthday, Coach," you whispered, slowly coaxing Bradley awake. He could feel your warm breath on his cheek and the weight of your hand resting on his chest. 

"Mmm, Kitten," he rasped, placing his bigger hand on top of yours as he cracked his eyes open. And there you were, fresh from sleep yourself, and so beautiful with the early morning sunlight catching on the angles of your face. "It's Sunday. Why won't you let me sleep in?"

"Because it's your birthday. And we get to see Ev."

Bradley stretched and rolled over so you were pinned deliciously underneath him. "We won't get to see Ev until later this afternoon. He's going to have a very busy day."

"I'm not so sure about that," you said with a smirk as you dragged your fingers through his hair. Bradley knew he was going gray, but you claimed you liked it, including the few stray strands that found their way into his mustache. 

"You sound like you've got something up your sleeve. Wait, Molly's not coming over to break the stove again, is she?"

You started laughing as you wrapped your legs around his. "Not that I know of. But anything's possible with her."

"Poor Bob," he said, pressing a kiss to your collarbone. "And the kids, too. She's an absolute menace." 

Bradley pulled up your shirt and kissed his way along your breasts. If he was lucky, he'd get round one of birthday sex now and round two tonight after the game.

"Wait," he whined as you tugged your shirt back down. "What are you doing? It's my birthday."

"Yes," you agreed, kissing him once and then slipping right out of bed. "And I've been told I need to keep you on a very strict schedule. So come on. Get up."

"A strict schedule?" he mumbled. "Baby, I'm retired. My schedule revolves around making you breakfast, packing your lunch, coaching tee ball, and watching every single Phillies game."

"Well, I'll be making your breakfast today. And you can eat nachos or a hot dog for lunch even though you should be watching your sodium intake. And we will definitely catch the Phillies game," you said, reaching out to take his hand. 

With one more groan, he let you lead him downstairs where you told him to sit at the kitchen counter. He passed his display case on the way and paused to look at his first Coach of the Year trophy and the baseball covered in little faded hearts that he used to propose to you. He smiled at the collection of other baseballs, including the one from the first time his son pitched a no hitter. 

"Seriously, Bradley. We have a schedule to keep."

A few minutes later he had his World's Greatest Dad mug full of coffee in front of him. You kept checking the time as you pulled eggs and vegetables out of the refrigerator. Once 8:00 hit, you grabbed his phone from where it sat on the counter and entered his passcode as he sipped his coffee.

"Read this," you said, voice full of excitement. 

"What is it?" he asked as you thrust the phone into his hands. It looked like he was going to have absolutely no say over what went on today, so he was just going to go with the flow.

"An article. In the Philadelphia Inquirer. It just got released two minutes ago."

"Okay," he muttered, setting down his coffee and as he started to read.

WILL SEASON FOUR BE AS LUCKY AS ONE, TWO, AND THREE?

by Harrison Boyd

June 27, 2039

From his draft day nearly four years ago to now, Everett Bradshaw has been turning heads. We had collectively wondered as baseball fans from the City of Brotherly Love if we would ever have a truly elite pitcher again after Ronson's career ending injury. But as soon as the franchise acquired Bradshaw, we were allowed to stop wondering. We have reached elite status once again. And Bradshaw shows no signs of stopping. 

When I asked the freshly twenty five year old ace about the secret to his success, the first thing out of his mouth was, "My dad."

Bradley rubbed his eyes with his fingers and took a deep breath against the swell of emotions rising in his chest. "Kitten, what is this?"

You just shrugged as you cut up a green pepper for an omelette. "A feature article on Ev. Keep reading."

Bradley took a deep breath and picked up where he left off.

So I asked him, "Was your dad the one at your games who was cheering the loudest? The one who kept you motivated since you were a kid?"

"Not exactly," Bradshaw replied with a smile. "He was my very first coach. He actually still coaches tee ball in San Diego. He wins Coach of the Year so frequently, I think we've all lost count of how many of those little trophies he has at home. But anyway, I met my dad on the very first day I ever played ball. The very first time I swung a bat with instruction was from him. And he's the one who taught me how to pitch. His slider is still really hard to hit."

"You met your dad through tee ball? Through baseball? That's fascinating."

"Yes. I begged my mom to let me play. I was already obsessed with the Phillies by the time I was six. My mom took me to see them clobber the Padres at Petco Park, and I just thought they were the coolest team. So when she let me play tee ball, and I met my coach and learned he also loved the Phillies, I just wanted to spend as much time with him as I could. Turns out, they also wanted to spend time with each other. They got married a few months later. And then my dad adopted me."

While his birth name wasn't Bradshaw, Everett said he never had a close relationship with his biological father. "Really, he's not even worth mentioning. The only one I've ever considered to be my dad is Bradley. I can barely remember a time before he was taking me to the park to hit balls and teaching me how to keep stats. We did my homework together and collected baseball cards. He helped me apply to colleges. The video of him losing his mind when the Phillies drafted me went viral. My mom and my aunt and uncle are awesome, too. But my dad has always understood me in a way probably nobody else ever will."

During his four years at Vanderbilt, Everett earned a reputation as a fun loving, team oriented pitcher. But his stats were enough to catch the eye of every major league team. He pitched a no hitter against Stanford when he was nineteen, and he hit his first grand slam when he was twenty. And he's only cleaned up his form since then. For anyone not keeping track at home, Bradshaw already owns an incredible record in the MLB: he is the only player to pitch a no hitter as well as hit at least one grand slam for every year they played in the pros. His batting averages are practically unheard of for a pitcher. 

It's no wonder he was heavily scouted. And he assures us that his dad was there with him every step of the way. "I didn't know anything about contracts. I just wanted to pitch. But I spent a lot of time talking things through with my dad before I made any decisions. And now everyone is making a huge fuss about my new 440 million dollar ten year extension with the Phils, but to be honest, I still just want to pitch as many games as I can."

The 'huge fuss' is being made, because Bradshaw is now the highest paid pitcher in league history. The Phillies went all in on him, however Bradshaw did adjust his deal to assure that the team would be able to keep top catcher Sanchez as well. "If Miguel Sanchez isn't catching for me and the other guys in the rotation, then that's a big problem. The team needed to retain him as well. And to be honest, Harrison, nobody needs 440 million dollars."

Bradley set his phone down, rubbed his eyes, and said, "I still can't believe our son is the highest paid pitcher ever."

"I can," you replied, adding cheese to the omelette. "He's incredible. Keep reading."

When I asked him what he plans to do with 44 million dollars per year, he kind of shied away from the answer at first. "Well my girlfriend runs a nonprofit organization back in San Diego. She helps fund underprivileged children and schools. So a lot of my income goes back to kids in the city where I grew up and beyond. But I've also been working on a bit of a project myself."

When I asked him for more details, he folded his hands on the table in front of him and took a few beats to answer. "We talked a lot about my dad and what he means to me personally, and how he has impacted my career. But I also think it's important to remember that I'm just one guy. I'm just one kid who went through tee ball and little league. There are thousands of kids across the country who benefit from those types of athletic programs every year. And some of them, just like me, really need the positive influence that the coaches bring. So my dad doesn't even know about this yet, but I'm starting the Bradley Bradshaw Foundation, which will help fund a handful of youth tee ball programs every year. This is something I've been thinking about for a long time. The coaches bring the love and dedication; they shouldn't have to worry about equipment costs and field rental fees."

Bradley dropped his phone onto the counter and tried to wipe his eyes as he sobbed. "I can't even finish reading it."

You slid his birthday breakfast onto a plate and set it in front of him. Then you wrapped your arms around his neck and let him cry against your shoulder. 

"Why is he doing this?" Bradley asked you. "He knows how fucking emotional I get, Kitten."

You kissed the top of his head and whispered, "Yes, you're always very soft for us. But you're also soft and sweet for all the kids you've coached. Keep reading."

So he pushed his breakfast aside and picked up his phone once again. And once he blinked away most of his tears he read the last part.

When pressed about how he thinks his stats will pan out by the end of his fourth season, Everett 'Grand Slam' Bradshaw laughed and shrugged. "I don't know. I'm just trying for consistency. I'm trying to be a good teammate. I'm trying to make the best of every game I get to start. I'm trying to spend as much time with my family as I can. But if you really have a specific question about my stats, you should call my dad. He probably knows better than I do."

Bradley stood up from the kitchen counter and walked away from you. "I need a minute," he said, raking his hands through his hair. The love Bradley felt for his son was just simply part of him. He never took the time to try to pinpoint it exactly, because it was just built into him at this point. But he supposed it really was quite simple to reach back in his mind and pull out the moments when he started to fall in love with you and Everett. And it really was just because of the Tiny Eagles tee ball team. 

If he hadn't agreed to help Bob coach that first season, his life would be fundamentally incorrect right now. He didn't even like thinking about it. But it was because of his love for Everett, and you, and baseball that he stuck with coaching. He'd spent time with countless six and seven year olds over the last eighteen years. He'd missed some practices and games for deployments here and there, sure. But giving a little bit of his time and attention to a roster of kids each spring ended up changing his life. Because while his family owned his heart, Bradley found he had quite a lot of patience and love to share with more kids. 

"Bradley?" you asked softly, standing next to his untouched breakfast. "We can go see Ev when you're ready."

"I'm ready."

Bradley took a quick shower and put on his favorite jeans and his Phillies jersey with Bradshaw and the number 1 on the back. You were dressed similarly in your own Everett Bradshaw jersey; it had taken until your son was playing for the team for you to have what Bradley considered an adequate amount of Phillies clothing in your drawers. Once Bradley added his backwards hat, he was ready to go.

You took his hand and led him out to the new Bronco, and Bradley handed you the keys. He still felt like he was on the verge of tears again. "I need you to drive."

"Okay, Coach."

When you turned onto the Private Parking Only ramp at Petco Park, Bradley chuckled. "I still can't believe Ev is playing the Padres in San Diego on my birthday."

"You screamed like a small child when the schedule came out," you reminded him as you parked near the players entrance where the three of you had entered on your ballpark tour eighteen years ago. 

"Yeah, I know, but we hardly ever get to see Ev during the season unless we fly to Philly." He was already climbing out before you turned the engine off, and then he took your hand as you laughed. "Shit, Kitten... it's 10:00. The game doesn't start until 1:00. Are the gates even open?"

"We can get in," you assured him, and you pulled a lanyard out of your pocket with VIP printed all over it. 

"How did we get that?" he asked, leaning down to kiss you as you approached the gate together. "Ev usually just sends us box tickets."

But before you had a chance to answer, the security guard looked at the VIP pass and asked, "Which player are you here to see?"

"Everett Bradshaw?" you replied. "He plays for the Phillies."

The guard's face lit up and he said, "He just autographed a ball for my kids about ten minutes ago! Nicest guy."

"He's our son," Bradley said with pride in his voice, and you squeezed his hand a little tighter. 

"Come on in," the guard said with a bright smile, unlocking the gate and sliding it open. "You can wait in the VIP lounge right up this ramp to the right. Scan the pass to unlock the door. I'll call down to the locker rooms and let him know you're here."

"Thanks," Bradley replied, and you led the way up the ramp. "Baby, I'm still a little confused about why we're here so early."

"You'll see in a minute," you replied, scanning the badge. Bradley pulled the door open when it unlocked, and he followed you into the lounge full of plush seats, TV screens, and refreshments. And at the far end, perched on the edge of one of the long tables, was Everett. He was smiling as he tucked his phone in his jeans pocket, and Bradley thought he looked impossibly taller and stronger than he had two months ago when they visited him in Philadelphia.

Bradley's eyes filled with tears as he started closing the distance to his son. "Happy birthday, Dad," Everett said with a laugh in his deep voice, but Bradley was already wrapping him up in a tight hug. He just wanted to hold all six foot two inches and two hundred and twenty pounds of his son, and Everett let him. 

Bradley had to fight the onslaught of tears as the familiar feel of Ev hugging him back filled his senses, and the words from the article he read earlier flooded his mind. When he finally released him, he patted him on the shoulder. "You look good, Kiddo. Did you eat enough for breakfast? Are you still starting today?"

Ev smiled at him and nodded, "Yeah, I'm feeling good, Dad. I could probably use some of your pancakes though."

"Well why didn't you say something? I could have brought some with us. Kitten, why didn't you say something?" he asked you as you walked over to join them.

As Everett gave you an enormous hug as well, he said, "I'm thinking about sleeping over at the house with you guys tonight, since I'm not starting tomorrow. You can make me about a dozen pancakes tomorrow morning. Hi, mom."

You kissed his cheek and adjusted his backward Phillies cap. "I like your hair this way. You look so handsome, Ev.

"Of course he does," Bradley agreed. "He looks like you." And then he was rewarded with the twin smiles that you and Everett bestowed on him at the same time. "Listen, if you're coming back to the house later, I need to stop and get groceries. You ate everything in the refrigerator and drank all my beer last time."

Everett just smiled at him. "Damn, I really do miss your pancakes."

"Ev, that's an adult word," you scolded.

"Mom. I am an adult," he scolded back playfully. But he was grinning when he turned toward Bradley. "Did mom make you read the article this morning? From the Inquirer?" 

"Yeah," he whispered, nodding his head. "You didn't need to do that for me, Kiddo. But thank you."

His throat was tight with unshed tears as Everett gave him another hug. "I didn't do it just for you. I did it for the other coaches and kids, too. You were just my main inspiration. You always are, dad."

"Please, Ev," he said, sucking in a deep breath as he rubbed his son's back before releasing him. "I might never stop crying."

And he was once again met with Everett's smile and yours. "You're a softie, Coach," you told him, cupping his chin in your hand and kissing him.

"Always for the two of you." Bradley kissed your fingers and then laced them with his as he looked around the room. "How much longer can you hang out with us, Ev? You need to warm up soon?"

"Pretty soon," he replied. "I'll walk you up to the box to meet Aunt Molly and Uncle Bob and the cousins, but we need to stop and take care of something first."

"Take care of what?" Bradley asked, but Ev was already heading for the door past the tables and unlocking it with his own badge. Hand in hand, the two of you followed your son down a long hallway that ended near the locker rooms at a door that said PRESS AND PLAYERS ONLY. "Are we even allowed back here?"

"Well," Everett said, stopping in front of the door, "if you remember the tour we took when I was six years old, this is where we met some of the players."

"Of course I remember," Bradley said, leaning down to kiss your cheek. "That was one of the best days of my life. I told your mom I loved her that day."

"He did," you confirmed for Everett.

"You two have always been sickening," Everett replied with a smile. "But yes, we're allowed in here. Actually dad, you're the man of the hour."

"Man of the hour?" he asked. "Kiddo, you're the star pitcher. It's just my fifty-fifth birthday." 

But as soon as Everett pushed the door open and Bradley stepped inside, about twenty reporters and photographers started buzzing with excitement. 

"Ev, I'm still confused," Bradley said as his son rested a hand on his shoulder. He watched you smile and head to an empty seat at the back of the room. "What's going on?"

Ev rubbed his shoulder before giving him another hug and releasing him. "Every interviewer asks me how I became successful. And my answer is always the same. It's because of you, Dad."

"Ev," Bradley choked out, his throat tight with tears once again.

"So you're in high demand, Coach. I told a few media outlets we would give an interview together. Nothing too crazy. As long as you want to."

Bradley glanced around the room, and as soon as he found you with a bright smile on your face, he said, "Okay."

So he sat down where the players sit, and Everett took the seat next to him. They had on matching jerseys and backward caps, and it didn't matter that he adopted Everett, this had always been his son. They were cut from the same cloth. They understood each other. They were a family. 

Everett cleared his throat and announced, "Hey, everyone. This is my dad and my very first coach, retired naval Captain Bradley Bradshaw. He taught me literally everything I know about baseball. Everything I know about anything, really. He showed me how to pitch sliders and curveballs at Myers Park here in San Diego. He made sure I could lose a game with the same attitude as when I won a game. He and I met the first day I ever played tee ball and the very first day he ever coached. And he's been coaching the Tiny Eagles ever since. So I guess if you want to know more about me, then he's the man to talk to."

Bradley was still wiping tears from his eyes when the first interviewer raised her hand, smiled at him, and asked, "Can you tell us how proud you are of Everett?"

He turned to look at his son and smiled. "How much time do I have?"

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

Well, that's it! The tale of Coach Bradley! I can't thank you enough to everyone who has been lovely to me as I worked on and posted this fic. I can't get enough of these three. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32 (and thanks for the banner, Mak!)

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

Don't forget to check out Bob and Molly in The Curveball!

Still want more? Read Draft Day!

@swthxrry

@chassy21

@yaboid19

@solacestyles

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@daisyhollyxox

@harper1666

@throwinsauce

@awesomebooklover17

@wintercap89

@whosyourgnomie4

@rosesinmars

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@wishfulwithwine

@backinwonderl4nd

@tetragonia

@gingerbreadandpaper

@emptyloverofmine

@chaoticassidy

@missmirandafe

@changlingkhat

@sugarcoated-lame

@callsign-jupiter

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@andycanbeemotional

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@tallyovie

@shanimallina87

@starlightstories

@teddyluvs2sing

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@lilyevanswhore

@o-the-o-grim-o-reaper-o

@xoxabs88xox

[atinystraynstay]

Lover - Choi Jongho

Synopsis: "I thought a love like yours could never be experienced."

Pairing: Choi Jongho x reader

Genre: so much fluff! can't help it when it comes to imagining what domesticated life with Jongho could be like

Word Count: 1.5k

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————————

"Sweetheart? Do you want honey in your tea?" Jongho called out from the kitchen. "Yes, please!"

You were currently situated in the living room, a throw blanket over your lap. Your mother had just sent you photos from your childhood that she found extras of. You asked her to send them to you because you wanted to give Jongho a glimpse of your childhood. You had them in a small pile for the two of you to look through.

You overheard the clinking of what you assume to be a spoon against the cups. Jongho was the type of guy that never overlooked any detail. He liked to be precise, especially when it comes to you. His greatest pride was his ability to look after you.

Glancing up at him, you watched him slowly move into the room. You couldn't help but giggle as he looked nervous that he might slip some of the tea into his head. To help him, you moved the photos to beside you so you could stand up to take one of the mugs from him.

He silently thanked you before setting his mug on the coffee table. Jongho always preferred to let the tea cool down slightly, so he wouldn't burn his tongue. "So how old are some of these pictures?" He asked curiously. "I think some of them are from when I was just 3 or 4, so I was pretty young, so you've been warned."

Jongho rolled his eyes playfully before leaning over to press a lingering kiss into your head. "Would you please stop talking bad about the love of my life, hmm? I quite love how she looks," he murmured into your skin.

His arm wrapped around your shoulder, letting his fingers run up and down your forearm comfortingly. You nodded your head, accepting Jongho's request. You just weren't the biggest fan of your more awkward stages of life.

However, if it was one thing about Jongho, he would always be there to affirm your worth. Your confidence has only grown since getting together. But maybe that was because he quite literally was everything you wished for when you were younger. Setting the photo album in your lap, you opened the first page. There was a photo of you, maybe less than an hour old. It was the photograph of you right after your birth. You were red in the face, probably from all the crying you did being so new to the world. Your hands were closed in tiny fists, eyes squeezed shuts. You cringed slightly seeing your newborn self. Jongho, on the other hand, was in awe to see the beginning of your life.

The next few pages were filled with photos before you entered school. They were photos of you dressed in Halloween costumes, like the one where your grandmother insisted you and your cousins should be pumpkins together when you were 3. Or your favorite when you were 2, the duck costume.

"Mom told me that I basically lived in that costume for the rest of the year," you laughed.

Jongho laughed along with you. He loved seeing the joy on your young face. In nearly every photo, you had a wide smile on your face. You were innocent, not exposed to the stresses of life. All that concerned you was being able to wear that fluffy duck Halloween costume,

As you go through the pages, you were introduced the the versions of yourself you seemed to have forgotten about. There were several photos of you playing different sports - soccer, taekwondo, swimming, and even a summer playing t-ball. Some of the photos were taken by your father at the sporting events, while others were photos taken by a professional photographer to mark the season.

"I always knew my girl was outgoing," Jongho commented. He leaned over to kiss your cheek lingeringly. You rolled your eyes at his comment, but it didn't hide the smile curling on your lips.

Flipping to the next page, you noticed your are entering the school photos. You groaned at the photos from kindergarten and 1st grade, especially. You felt like you were an awkward kid. Your mom cut your hair short when you were younger because you refused to let her help you brush it. You also began to wear glasses. Not to mention the braces that would come on later. A trifecta.

There were of course good memories from your childhood. But you wished to forget these more awkward moments. You were bullied quite a bit in your younger years which took a toll on your mental health well into your adult years.

"Have you ever considered cutting your hair short again?" Jongho asked.

You quickly looked at him, frowning. You pulled your now long hair over the front of your shoulder, looking down at you. That was part of the reason you were so hesitant about getting a haircut now and then. You were afraid of too many inches being taken off and not feeling confident. Your long hair was opposite from what it was when you felt like you were at your lowest. "Do you not like my hair now?" You whispered.

This time, Jongho looked at you. A frown was evident on his lips. He honestly could care less how long or how short your hair was. He thought you were adorable as a child. From just looking at the photos, he could see the bold color of your eyes. That was the first thing he fell for when it came to you.

"No, sweet girl, I love your hair now. But I also like the short hair on you when you were younger. It showed your gorgeous face off to the whole world," he explained. His voice was gentle. He was trying to put the pieces together for your reaction. The last thing Jongho ever wanted to do was upset you.

"Yeah right, Jongho," you sighed as you went to go flip to the next page.

However, he stopped you. His hand rested on top of yours, fingers gently caressing the back of your hand. "I mean it, pretty baby. You were adorable then, you're adorable now. It's amazing to see your journey through photos of how you've grown into the person you are today." His free hand ran over one of the photos.

"You're too good to me, honey," you sighed. Your head rested on his head on your shoulder. "It's the truth," he pouted. "Why don't you believe me?"

You peered up to see Jongho looking at you. You sat up the moment you could tell he was genuinely upset. You furrowed your eyebrows as you turned your body towards him, so you could have a proper conversation. Your left foot was tucked underneath your right which was dangling over the edge of the couch. Your gaze fixated on your hands as you fiddled with them a bit, your anxiety starting to increase.

"I guess I just never saw my worth as a kid, you know? I had people telling me that I wasn't good enough, that I wasn't beautiful. It was hard growing up in my small town where it seemed everyone fit in except me," you explained. "Don't get me wrong. I'm glad I never fit into the mold, but it was still hard."

Jongho gently reached over to hold your hands in his. He lifted them up, kissing your knuckles lingeringly before setting your joined hands in between your bodies. His thumbs gently caressed the back of your hands to try to ease any negative emotions stirring inside of you.

"My sweet girl, my love," he cooed. "Believe me when I say this. You were beautiful then, you are beautiful now. I'm honestly jealous of the people who got to grow up with you because they were lucky. But I guess I'm the lucky one that gets to experience your present and future."

Your heart swelled at his sentiment. You still kept your gaze locked on your interlocked hands. Noticing, Jongho squeezed them which caused you to finally meet his eyes. Your lover was smiling at you with endearment.

"Why don't we stop looking back at the past for a moment? Hmm? We can focus on our future, talk about everything you want to accomplishment and do in this life because I'm not going anywhere," he teased teasingly.

You nodded at his suggestion. Leaning forward, you pressed a lingering kiss into the side of his face. A soft "thank you" was whispered into his skin which caused his cheeks to heat up. Even after all this time, he still blushed like he did on the first date. If anything, the emotions he felt towards you were stronger than ever before.

That night, the two of you cuddled up on the couch. You talked about your goals for the next five, next ten years. While you were uncertain of the obstacles you might encounter, there was a reassuring aspect knowing Jongho was in it for the long haul.

He was devoted to you. He was in love with all parts of you - past, present, and future. And he would spend the rest of his days reminding you of that.

That's what he wanted, at least - to be your lover unconditionally.

[livwritesstuff]

Eddie Munson had never been a fan of Christmas.

The cards had been kind of stacked against him, he thinks, with how his mom had died just before Christmas when he was still in elementary school, and then there has been the years of barely scraping by with Wayne. By the time he was old enough to have his own opinions, he was firmly and outright anti-holiday festivities �� enough so that he had multiple well-rehearsed and overly aggressive rants at the ready.

He’d mellowed out quite a bit since high school, but he still never got the appeal of Christmastime.

Then he married Steve Harrington and started raising their three daughters together and it’s entirely true what everyone says about children changing your entire world because, now, he fucking loves Christmas.

To be clear – Halloween is still the greatest holiday of all time. That’s never gonna change, but Christmas might have firmly established itself as second.

That whole stretch of December, actually, always ends up being a blast, with the tree and the decorating and the gingerbread houses and all that other festive shit.

Christmas morning is the best part, he thinks. Eddie and Steve go through the wringer trying to get the girls into bed the night before, and their excitement wakes them up even earlier than usual.

Steve drags himself out of bed when they first hear chatter from the girls to snag their stockings from downstairs before any jailbreaks occur. The girls convene in Moe’s room to dig into their stockings under direct orders to not wake up their dads until 6:30 (not that either of them are sleeping, necessarily, but sometimes they manage to doze off for an entire half hour).

At 6:30 on the nose, the girls are practically breaking down the bedroom door in their haste to show off what Santa had put in their stockings, and Steve and Eddie put on a whole groggy show acting surprised about the little stuffed animals and boxes of crayons and heaps of candy that they’d clearly already taken a dive into.

The rest of the morning goes by in a haze. Steve and Eddie get corralled out of bed pretty quickly, and Steve is in charge of keeping the masses away from the presents under the Christmas tree long enough for Eddie to make a pot of coffee (which Steve doesn’t usually drink, but he does that morning), and when Eddie joins him on the couch with their novelty mugs of coffee, Steve slings an arm over his shoulders and presses a kiss to the side of his head. They always prop up their ancient camcorder on a side table, angled just right to capture the girls’ gleeful smiles as they unwrap all their gifts.

It might be Eddie’s favorite day of the year, believe it or not.

It’s all a fuckload of extra work in an already busy time of year, obviously, and he loses out on some of that sleep that he’s needing more and more the older he gets, but goddamn is it worth it every year because their girls are so happy. Happier than both he and Steve had ever gotten to experience.

That’s what fatherhood means to him though — giving his children things, opportunities, experiences, that he’d been denied in his own childhood, and seeing it pay off in their big grins on Christmas morning.

He’s not sure if it’s the most wonderful time of the year or any of that sappy crap, but he can still safely say that it’s pretty damn great.

[mysticstarlightduck]

OC Questionnaire Tag!

Thanks for tagging me @alinacapellabooks (here)!

Your OC Questions:

How good is your sleep schedule?

Do you have any siblings? If so, how good is your relationship?

What was the toughest time you had to endure while growing up?

I'll go with Quince Warren, Jack Tithus, Valen Cassidy and Meridian Shardd!

(Quince & Valen are from Scrapyard Boys)

(Meridian & Jack are from Supernova Initiative)

1) How is your relationship with your parents?

Quince: "Well. I didn't know my parents very well, but I knew my uncle. He was a great guy - a bit arrogant and flashy, sure, but he was amazing. Uncle was a part of Team Nemesis, a superhuman team that was Spectre's sweetheart for a long while. Magmatorch - the most powerful superhero of his time. He pulled a few strings so that me and Emily didn't get sent to the Spectre Academy early on, but... that made him a target, after a while. So he's not around anymore, because the people in power couldn't control him."

Jack: "My parents were great! We were best friends, and they were quite honestly the best guardians anyone could ask for. Kind, understanding, funny, no-nonsense. They were killed by the Junction when I was a pre-teen, so it's been just me, my sister, and our adoptive brother against the world since then."

Valen: "Mom was the best, the most amazing woman in the world and the greatest journalist that this city ever had. She always knew what to say, and always had the funniest remarks! But then the so-called 'mugging' - that was actually an assassination - happened, she died and the city tried to pretend it wasn't a sanctioned hit to get rid of a loose end who was asking too many questions. Yeah right, as if my mother would ever go down without a fight! She was a tough cookie."

Meridian: "I don't have parents. I'm a sentient mix of flesh and electronic machinery - a sentient robot, or a cyborg if you will. Made from spare parts. I have - had - a Creator. She was awful."

2) What’s something you can’t live without?

Quince: "The people I care about - my sister, my friends, everyone I love! I don't want the Spectre ruining that too. On a lighter note, I also can't live without something fun to do, without pizza, and without music!"

Jack: "For sure my siblings and my crew. If there was something I could always count on, as uncertain and chaotic as our lives were, is that they'd always have my back. And I'll be damned if I don't do the same for them. I can live through almost anything if I'm sure they'll be okay."

Valen: "Freedom. I hate fuckers who want to tell me how to do and when to do it - around here, the government thinks it has the right to control every aspect of citizen's lives and I hate that with all my heart. They don't get to manipulate everyone and act like that's okay - and I don't want me and my friends having to grovel at the feet of a bunch of motherfuckers who couldn't care less if we live or die."

Meridian: "I'm not certain. But I would say that something I would not like to give up is my autonomy and dignity. I wasn't treated as a person for a long time, mostly because most people saw me as a pretty machine and nothing else. And my Creator enabled that. So now that I'm finally free, I don't want to become a mindless robot again."

3) What’s something that happened in your childhood that you didn’t fully understand until you grew up?

Quince: "I guess that as a kid I didn't get just how corrupt and dangerous our country's government is and was. Like, I was the nephew of the nation's number one hero. Everything was press conferences, fan conventions, private jets, VIP lounges, etc. We were practically movie stars, as far as I knew. Everyone loved us - and it wasn't like the Agency's dirty work was out in the public. I had no idea about it, their publicity was perfect, and for a while, I genuinely thought they wanted to do what was best for the people of this city. What I didn't realize is that Uncle and us were merely puppets for the agency, and if we walked out of line there would be consequences. When I found out the real truth behind the existence of the Spectre Academy and Agency, it was too late."

Jack: "I'm not quite sure (chuckles). For real, I don't think I know how to answer this question."

Valen: "Like what? I wasn't a dumbshit - pretty much nothing went unnoticed. I was always a perceptive kid, and that was a blessing and a curse. Still, being clever is the difference between living to see the next week or ending up dead in a ditch when you're on the run from a bunch of crazy fuckers in suits."

Meridian: "Um. I was never a kid. I was 'born' - or rather made - to look as a young adult. Since I'm made of artificially organic material, I do actually age - but much slower than actual humans. So I can only age from my current self and forward, but I was never a kid."

Tagging (gently): @sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab,

@winterandwords, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill, @anoelleart, @ray-writes-n-shit

@the-golden-comet, @writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid

@lassiesandiego, @thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams

@wyked-ao3 and OPEN TAG

[div-divington]

things Remedy could definitely sell in their Official Merch Store that would undoubtedly make them A Sum of Money (a very serious and extremely cost-friendly non-exhaustive list):

- Black mug with the Federal Bureau of Control's seal on it (either the simple, clean, modern all-white version or the full coloured version)

- plushies of The Former. they're cute and i like them.

- mini-fridge that looks like AI10-KE (the Arctic Queen)

- literally just normal stationary with FBC imagery attached. Lemme buy Pope's clipboard.

- Oceanview Motel & Casino keychain

- Inverted Black Pyramid keychain

- Replica posters for all the fun little posters in the Oldest House (Do as you're told! Don't eat the Mold!)

- Get a real actual wizard to curse a buncha rubber duckies so they actually follow buyers around and quack at them (may not be profitable depending on wizard rates)

- The hairclip Jesse gets when she finishes the base game

- just. That poster Ahti has on his office door. Of himself.

- Tiny Little Hotline

- hoodie with Bureau seal on it

- small high-detail statues of Jesse and other characters (Emily, Arish, Langston, Marshall, idk) in action poses (or just dynamic poses)

- a vinyl record featuring literally nothing but Langston's freestyle poetry/rap from AWE on loop (on both sides) (cover art should be a low-res PNG of Langston with 2013 MLG sunglasses Photoshopped poorly onto him and "Langston's Greatest Hits" written in hot pink Comic sans font)

There are also a buncha Alan Wake options too:

- Life-sized cutout of Alan complete with book-holding shelf

- book sleeves so you can dress any unrelated book up as a litany of Alan's literary wonders

- Oh Deer Diner mug

- More of those thermoses (I will eradicate the scalpers that bought them all within literally seconds of them being made available)

- all the Manuscript pages from all the Alan Wake games (including the tiny amount we hear him narrate in AWE) in either an FBC "CLASSIFIED" folder or a dirty envelope

- real gun

- any and all posters from any and all AW games. Like the ones advertising Tom Zane's movies, or the ones telling you to celebrate Deerfest or the ones telling you to visit Coffee World

- plushie of Mayor Setter :)

- plushie of the Coffee World mascot (make it do the terrifying laugh when you squeeze its hand too)

- Barry Wheeler desk statue where the headlamp and Christmas lights light up

- "Not The Worst Mom" mug (PLEASE)

- deer masks

- anatomically accurate Taken-Nightingale statue with removable heart (show me the terror)

- just a framed print out of Alex Casey giving us the Look he always does

- Dr. Hartman's "The Creator's Dilemma" book sleeve so we can bask in his smug smile

- official Alan Wake branded flashlights

- Saga's sweater/sweaters?

- for $3000 Sam Lake just personally shows up at your house and sends you to the Dark Place

feel free to add more

[berrypass-de-murdler]

2 - 43 Murder on the Board

this person found me on tumblr and omg just block me already leave me aloneeeee 😭 please

Ahem

ANYWAY

look what I got!!!!!!!! I managed to get it a day earlier than expected!!! THE CARDS ARE SO SMOL BUT THE GAME IS SO BIGG! and it looks weirdly complicated. Hate board games but I'll make exception for BOXGICO

DON'T READ THE EPISODES WITHOUT READING THE BOOKS!!

Are they still in the Bahamas, or are they already back home? Seems like a pretty crucial detail. 

LOGICO: Oh, oh!! Irratino, I have an idea of something you might like. IRRATINO: You do!! Where!! LOGICO: A chess tournament!

Irratino flops to the ground like a dead inflatable tube man.

IRRATINO: Seriously? You think I’d enjoy a chess tournament? LOGICO: I love chess. IRRATINO: So?? LOGICO: You love me. It checks out.

Irratino has no choice! (They really submit to each other easily.) They head to a stadium. Yes, this is a stadium event!! The boys get front-row seats, because… not many people showed up. An announcer screams over the PA at a volume that’d damage the human ear.

PERSON: ARE YOU READY? LOGICO: I AM READY!! PERSON: ARE YOU FUCKING READY?!?!! LOGICO: YES YES I AM SO FUCKING READY!!!! PERSON: IIIIIIIT’S THE CHESS TOURNAMENT OF THE CENTURY, FEATURING THE TWO GREATEST ‘PAWN STARS’ IN THE WORLD!! FIRST UP, GRRRRRANDMASTER ROOO-OOO-OOOSE!!!

There’s a violent explosion of flames and confetti. Rose is lowered down from the ceiling on a platform. 

ROSE: I AM THE KING OF THE BOARD AND THE BAR! And soon… THE WOOOOOOOORLD!!!!

Logico screams and jumps up and down. Irratino is certain that either he or Logico is on drugs right now.

PERSON: AND THE SLICK-BACKED JOCKEY THAT’S GONNA POUND THIS MOTHERFUCKER BACK INTO HIS PLACE - GEEEEENEERAL COOOOOOFFEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!

Coffee don’t need no platform - he just drops from the ceiling with a Spider-Man land. And no catchphrase either.

The only other people in the audience are a couple humans and Boss Charcoal. Irratino groans and leans back so far he falls out of his seat. How is THIS ‘logical’ while the stuff he likes is ‘dumb’?

LOGICO: Oh, Irratino, it’s all right. There’s esoteric meaning behind the moves! IRRATINO: There… is? LOGICO: Like the one that goes like this! It means… life! IRRATINO: [sigh] PERSON: BUT WHAT’S THIS? LOOKS LIKE THE REFEREE IS OUT COLD! 

Some medics come over.

PERSON: OH IT’S MORE THAN OUT COLD… THEY’RE DEAD!!!

Irratino perks up. Finally, a development!

ROSE: Really?? I was gonna… I wanted to do my chess! I would have wiped the floor with Mr. Coffee! COFFEE: Mr. Coffee is a brand name, and if you wipe the floor with it, you’ll just be making a big mess. I was the one who was apparently going to win!

Irratino is glad they get to solve a murder, but Logico isn’t. He was really looking forward to that tournament. So was Rose, who throws a chess piece out the window so hard that it explodes.

While Logico does the real work, Irratino sits with Charcoal in the stands.

CHARCOAL: So, uh… what brought you here. IRRATINO: Logico made me. CHARCOAL: Yeah… my mom told me to go to this because I need to ‘sharpen my brain’... I thought my brain was sharp enough already! [cue the usual crying fit]

Irratino looks in a flyer.

IRRATINO: It says that these tournaments can last from one to 18 hours. 

Charcoal continues sobbing. 

CHARCOAL: I should have done the murder, so I’d have an excuse to leave! LOGICO: Ah, Irratino! Have any analysis on this one?

Tino hears a ticking sound in the distance.

IRRATINO: There’s a clock over there. LOGICO: I can always count on you.

Goat Lord slams his face against a table. Logico discovers that Coffee was the culprit. The man chugs an entire mug of espresso in one gulp. He should NOT be having that much.

COFFEE: I knew I could never win unless I killed. ROSE: YES!!!! That means I win already! LOGICO: Yes, now you’re disqualified. You can’t win even though you did kill. Also how the hell would killing a referee ‘make you win’? COFFEE: By distracting that Pringles man Rose! ROSE: PRINGLES? YOU’RE THE PRINGLES MAN!! 

The mustachioed goobers weakly brawl, neither able to deal any damage.

IRRATINO: You know, I’d much rather watch this than chess anyway.

The end!

Like I've said before, even the board game will be turned into a single-episode cartoon special (that will probably be painful to read!) where silly Gico decides to 'turn murder into a game'. In a way that doesn't make him sound like a serial killer!

The power of Goat Lord compels you!

See you next time murdlers!

[kitofawriter]

Spoilers for LMK Season 5 Episodes 1 and 2 (again) below the cut!!

Better audio! Let’s go!

The intro, my beloved!

Tired MK, nap now or you may never get the chance.

“Way batter monkey mountain” I missed that before.

SpongeBob style zoom in is hilarious

“I already said the thing!”

SWK wants MK to be as immortal as he is, of only so they can play fight without him holding back at all. I can feel it.

They destroy mountains in the show more than anything else.

MK, The Small Sage of ignoring his problems until they go away except they never go away.

“A surprise?” The fact that this many thousands of years old monkey is so excited for surprises is adorable.

Mac doing his lurking.

“You really are the worst mentor” Mac, I love you, but you are not any better. Remember the anime style video game?

“We” will get me every time.

I kinda wonder is LBD was actually the one to like, fully bring Mac back or if someone else did and he doesn’t remember.

“You need to do better” you’re not being super fair there, like SWK is trying. Maybe step up and also be a monkey mentor if you’re so concerned.

Pigsy doing his fast little hammer trying to get it finished faster.

MK, if you weren’t ready why did you call him over?

The house!! Genuinely hope nothing happens to it this season. (Tell me it’s not gonna become this shows version of the Bounty)

I was so distracted my the pictures I didn’t notice the drawings!!! OMG!!! MK you’re the best!!

Love Mei in those overalls BTW, super cute.

Hugs!!!

It’s funny that MK can activate Tangs power for him.

It’s interesting to see that the only major difference with the animation is the characters. Like the cinematography is still really similar. It’s just rigged animation now.

If anyone has any insomniac!MK getting comforted by Pigsy (or any of his dads) fic recs, please share them because this is the good stuff.

Also MK is the anti Steven Universe. Steven collects moms and MK collects dads. (But obvs Pigsy is like number 1 Dad. Pigsy gets the worlds greatest dad mug and Tang, Sandy, and SWK all get mugs that say “backup dad” and then a number in order of when he met them. Because I think it’s funny.)

I love how Pigsy knows forcing him to bed is 100% the wrong thing to do here. Like this is something he’s dealt with multiple times.

MK cooks like I do. It’s okay MK, I don’t know how to freestyle either, that’s why I’m the baker of the family.

The animation shift of the food that’s missing something and the finished thing is so nice. I lost how it shifts from looking bland to looking SOO GOOD.

I want those noodles.

Baby MK!!

I would die for Pigsy. Like, he’s such a good character.

I wonder if the burning of FFM is canon and if Mac helped save all the baby monkeys. That would make sense as to why they cling to him.

Every season MK gets further and further for a good nights sleep, for only pennies a day, you could sponsor a monkie kid and help him receive a nap. In return, he will be well rested to prevent monsters from destroying the city.

Team Let MK Rest!

Little monkeys are scared. It’s okay little monkeys, they won’t destroy your mountain this time, probably, maybe.

Episode 2 time!

Took a break because internet was being mean to me. (Wouldn’t load)

Have I mentioned how much I love the new intro?

SWK is unimpressed with the lords of the underworld’s intimidation tactics

I love how MK still uses/wears Monkey King merch even though they’re friends now. Do you think SWK has a closet full of unreleased merch he has saved to give MK as gifts? Because MK would love that.

Mac is also unimpressed. Very “been here done this before”.

Ace attorney MK!!!

“We have brought a power even greater than yours” *brings out Nezha and Li Jing* did you guys read JTTW? Because like…beating these guys was how SWK got recognized as the Great Sage Equal to Heaven.

Cheeky monkey

The panic in Mac’s eyes when he realizes what’s happening is fascinating.

I kinda wonder where they got the fillet, cause in the book they were given to Guan-Yin by Buddha. I doubt Buddha was like “you need to subdue the Monkey King again? Yeah sure, have this super powerful thing”

Also SWK still trying to comfort MK even when dealing with this thing.

Your honor, they are divorced.

Tang is the only one who can teach MK anything.

Painted style sections my beloved.

“It’s his lawyer bit.” They’re both so used to MK’s antics

SWK’s obnoxious younger brother vibes whenever Nezha is present are my favorite.

Heaven getting flashbacks to SWK’s last rampage

I think there should be a running gag that MK’s style and Sandy’s style are total opposites so every time MK rebuilds something of Sandy’s there’s a little chibi Sandy mourning the new look. It’s be funny.

You know Mac, if you just portaled Wukong into the truck sooner you probably wouldn’t have gotten caught.

Also sad SWK face will always get me.

[lorena12me]

The Last Grand Theft

Here in AO3

Summary:

In a world where Tim lost his parents and was never Robin, the only ones who reached out to him were Bernard and the Dowd family, Tim owes them for taking him in and Bernard too owes them for allowing him to help the person he loves most in the world. They will go out of their way to show that they are helpful and can be trusted. It doesn't matter if helping pull off muggings and robberies in Gotham City is the way to do it!, it's what you do for family, right?

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Speed up, Red, speed up!" yells Prod as he shoots for the car window and Tim hits the pedal and drives in reverse, making the streets just a blur of indistinguishable lights. Tim only has eyes to dodge the vehicles that cut across mid-street as they flee from the greatest threat of a Gothamite criminal.

The Bats.

As a child, Tim had imagined a thousand times to be one of Gotham's protectors, flying through the air as the city shone beneath his feet, growing up and helping under the guidance of the incredible bat and his ever-growing flock of birds, making a name for himself in the world's superhero and vigilante community.

Never in his wildest dreams had he imagined that his parents would end up dead in an attack that Batman and Robin failed to stop when he was fourteen and then he would be sent into the system, spending a couple of years bouncing from house to house until Bernard managed to convince his father and mother to help him.

He would never have guessed that the reason his parents had been so reluctant to take him in wasn't because they hated him or resented his friendship with Bernard...It was because....

"Stop!" shouts Spoiler's female, imposing voice as he tries and fails to fire his grappling hook into the tires of their armored vehicle, flanking them with his motorcycle on the left as Black Bat's shadowy figure swooped in from the right in his own Bat-branded vehicle.

"Holy shit!" Prod or better known as Bernard Dowd, her boyfriend, exclaims as he extends his hand towards the inside of the vehicle, in Tim's direction "Red, the rubber bomb!"

Tim hurries to pass her the little green beads of his own invention, recently perfected and watches as his partner tosses them towards Spoiler's motorcycle and a blast of the synthetic compound gets tangled in the front tire of her Spoiler-Cycle causing her to lose speed and be forced to brake.

One less danger, but Black Bat is still in the race.

The quietest and second most dangerous bat after Batman (Who is being distracted across town by Mr. and Mrs. Dowd) swoops in. He jumps onto the hood of the vehicle and clings with the black claws of his suit to the metal of the car trying to grab Bernard. Tim pulls his friend inside the vehicle and closes the armored window, while both activate the air filtering mechanism of their masks to avoid being sedated with the capsule that Black Bat managed to sneak in before the window finished closing.

Tim begins to shake the vehicle dangerously, trying to dislodge Black Bat from its hood, when they hear on their communicators Mr. and Mrs. Dowd speak.

"Cargo secured Prod, Red, you may return to base."

Both friends look at each other and nod and Bernard presses the red button which causes the car's roof to detach, throwing Black Bat onto the road. Tim made sure to slow down a bit so the vigilante wasn't going to get seriously hurt, but he still grimaces as he sees her bounce several times on the street before they turn the corner and lose sight of her.

"Performing maneuver D-r345" Tim answers the comm.

"Roger, over and out."

The maneuver is basically to lose any trace of the bats and abandon the vehicle in a designated area where the self-destruct mechanism will activate and erase any evidence and clues that the bats could exploit to find them or discover their identities.

Two hours later, civilians Tim and Bernard arrive home as the bats are just finding the smoldering remains of their vehicle.

"We're home, mom, dad!" exclaims Bernard happily as both boys enter the kitchen where a luscious smell is flooding the house

"Welcome, children" smiles Mrs. Dowd warmly as she tastes the food in the slow cooker and nods in satisfaction "Just in time to celebrate children!"

Both boys take their places at the table as Mr. Dowd comes up from the basement with a bottle of expensive wine and laughs jovially.

"Another successful mission, boys" he celebrates "All thanks to you."

"Oh, it's no big deal... Henry" Tim still has trouble addressing the adults in his life by first name, but he tries "You were the ones who stood up to Batman."

"No dear" Mrs. Dowd shakes her head "Without yours and my son's inventions we couldn't have done it, that sticky liquid actually worked pretty well, Batman couldn't get off the ground fast enough to stop us!" she laughs, pleased remembering Batman cursing as he remained glued to the ground and Robin growling in anger when he suffered a similar fate.

Once upon a time, Tim would have imagined using his brains and inventions to help the bats. Now, all his efforts are devoted to sabotaging them so his boyfriend's family can get away with stealing and destroying shit in Gotham.

Whatever. It's not like he owes the Bat or his pack anything, he thinks angrily when he remembers being at his parents' funeral after Batman failed them, alone and lost enduring the hungry gaze of his parents' associates who couldn't wait to divvy up the leftovers of their wealth.

"It will be a small glass for each of you until you turn 18, boys" Mr. Dowd says as he uncorked the bottle and began pouring wine into the glasses "But you deserve to celebrate with us this great achievement boys, I'm proud of you two"

He was definitely proud as the vault in his basement held several bars of gold and diamonds, stolen directly from the Gotham City Bank.

Tim smiled, feeling that refreshing sense of pride that accompanied Bernard's father's praise. He glanced out of the corner of his eye at his boyfriend and realized he was smiling too, because they had both fought so hard to help the family and deserved to have their accomplishments recognized.

"Now we just have to relax, until the next opportunity" Mrs. Dowd says softly as she finishes putting the food on the table and claps her hands to let everyone know that dinner is about to begin "I hope you are concentrating on your studies, boys, although I know I don't have to worry about you, my little geniuses."

Tim smiles and then his mind travels back in time to the moment Bernard called him on his old, broken phone and exclaimed loudly and excitedly that his parents had finally agreed to take him into their home, so he wouldn't keep hopping from foster home to foster home.

He remembers being terribly frightened, carrying only a backpack with what few clothes he had and an old photo of his parents (he had discarded all photos of Batman after they failed him so terribly), only to be taken to the basement that very night and Tim was horrified, thinking they were going to murder him.

"If you're going to be one of us, Timothy" he remembers Mr. Dowd saying in a stern voice "Then you have to know who the Dowd family are."

Then they revealed to him who they were. A gang of bank and museum robbers. At the time they weren't famous enough to have a name of their own, but Tim already knew of a couple of heists committed by them.

"We are trusting you with such an important secret only because our son has begged us to trust you, we expect you to reciprocate in kind" the "and if you don't..." had been heavily implied.

But Tim no longer had anything to lose and his admiration for Batman had died along with his parents, so he welcomed this new life with open arms and strove along with Bernard to prove to the Dowd's that he was useful.

They had both succeeded. Bernard had even confessed to him that since Tim had been with them, his parents had become more proud of Bernard since they had made themselves useful and devised new devices and codes and plans so that the heists managed to get bigger and bigger and the family made their own name.

They had gone from being ordinary thieves to practically Rogues in their own right.

Dinner passed in lively conversation, everyone casually commenting on certain parts of their recent heist, which had gone perfectly and needed a polish for the next opportunity.

Dinner ends and they are both sent to their rooms while Mr. and Mrs. Dowd go down to the basement, probably to count and record the winnings.

Tim and Bernard lie down together (they are allowed to sleep together if they keep the door open) and Bernard rests his head on his boyfriend's chest.

"Do you think we'll be able to quit when we go to college?"

"...I hope so."

They had both talked about it and even though it was a little while before high school was over, neither of them really wanted to devote their lives to crime.

"Just..." Bernard whispers "I think if we keep going like this one day they're going to want more than we can handle and we're all going to get screwed."

"...But we don't want to let them down...we have to reciprocate everything they've done for us" Tim recites, because it's the truth. They can't just abandon them like this, they took care of Tim when no one else would.

Bernard nods, both aware that they can only hope they'll be allowed to get out of it safely, before it's too late.

But six months later, Tim and Bernard were led by Mr. and Mrs. Dowd to the basement base and after putting a stack of folders, index cards and maps on the table, they were given the instructions for their new objective.

"We're going to pull off our biggest heist to date" Mrs. Dowd says, all sharp smiles and hunger on her face.

"What's it all about, Dad?"

"We're going to kidnap one of Bruce Wayne's sons and use him to open his private vault in the Wayne Enterprises building."

Holy Shit.

[roberrtphilip]

and final question because i love it so much. how do morgan & sofia like to celebrate their beloved dad on his birthday? 🤧🤧🤧

ough, okay, so, in my latest fic Giselle mentions a Special Birthday breakfast, and I think that’s a thing she typically does with their daughters !!

I think Giselle and Morgan started a little tradition where they make his favorites (bacon, eggs, and toast) and present it to him in bed, and Robert loooooves it. however, and this was almost the fic idea I posted this year, they skipped breakfast the year she was pregnant because she didn’t feel well enough to cook (I almost typed the whole damn fic right here, lemme shut up and move on)

ANYWAY, that breakfast tradition continued with Sofia, so that’s a fun little thing for all of them.

as far as gifts go, I think they’re a family that really loves Making Things, so Morgan and Sofia always go ham with making cards, drawing pictures, and maybe they make a sweater or a tie (with Giselle’s help) (that World’s Greatest Mom sweater Giselle has,,, I like to think Robert has a matching World’s Greatest Dad one somewhere… OUGH, or maybe a World’s Greatest Dad mug …. the possibilities are endless)

I think the most important thing for Robert, though, is just being with his family. he loves all his gifts, of course, but he really just loves spending the day with them. and because it’s his day, that means he gets to pick what they do for once (I mean, he gets to pick sooooooooometimes, but the girls/Giselle are usually the ones in charge) like, going to a baseball game, or the museum, or a movie, or bowling !! he loves bowling :]

mmm, this turned more into just what he likes to do in general, BUT UHH YEAH,, family time is just Very Special to Him !! and Sofia & Morgan are more than happy to spend the day doing whatever he wants 💙

[smolwritingchick]

Forced To Believe Chapter 31- The Slammy Awards

Chapter Summary: Melanie celebrates Jon's Birthday. Ambrose confronts Morgan on why she has been lying to him. Problems arise when Ambrose's attitude problems start to annoy Morgan and the rest of his teammates. CM Punk makes a shocking request at TLC

Words: 5,000+

------ 'Saturday Morning.'

Melanie was in jeans and one of her Morgan shirts as she was in her shared hotel with Jon. She saw him in jeans and a dark blue shirt and walked up to him, hugging him from behind. 

"Guess who?" She grinned as Jon smiled. She released him and he turned around. "Happy Birthday!" She showed him a gift out of her bag.

"Thanks, babe." he opened the gift to reveal a mug that said 'World's Greatest Boyfriend.' "Wow. This is nice."

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. "Get ready! We're gonna have an awesome day."

"What are we doing?"

"We, are going to an amusement park."

"Really?" his eyes lit up.

"Yep! We should have a fun day today at Six Flags since we're in a warm state today." 

Jon picked her up and twirled her around as she giggled and kissed him again.

"Awesome, let me grab my jacket and we can go." He released her.

When they arrived at the amusement park around 2 PM, Jon's eyes lit up. "Aw man, are those go-carts?" He pointed to them

"Yeah, wanna go "

"Let's go!" He grabbed her hand and dragged her to the go-cart station as she laughed. 

He reminded her of a little boy on Christmas, opening up presents. It was nice to see him happy since he wasn't able to enjoy a lot of fun things like this as a kid. Jon won 1st place while Melanie won 2nd.

"Haha, I know you're happy." she chuckled as Jon was grinning like crazy since he won. She then dragged him over to where the cotton candy was. "Hi, are you open?"

The cotton candy lady looked up in surprise. "O­oh my gosh, you're Morgan and Dean Ambrose."

"In the flesh." Melanie smiled.

"Sup." Jon greeted.

"Wow s-­sorry I'm trying not to get excited." The lady blushed

Melanie giggled. "It's okay. May I have a bag please?"

"Of course!" The cotton candy lady gave her a bag of pink cotton candy. "You can have a discount."

"Oh, no, I'll pay full price. I don't want to be treated with discounts because I'm famous," she replied and the cotton candy lady nodded and respected her wish.

"If it's not any trouble, do you mind signing my cotton candy hat?" The cotton candy lady took off her hat and took out a Sharpe.

"Anything for a fan." The Philly diva signed it with Jon.

"Thank you so much! Have a nice day! Oh. And happy birthday Dean!" 

Melanie happily ate her cotton candy, savoring the sweet taste. "You really have a sweet tooth." Jon chuckled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"Ha, when I was a kid, my mom and dad had a huge cake that they got from a party. It was 12 inches. Guess who ate the whole cake and got a stomach ache for a week? Yours truly. I got grounded too."

"Someone's been a bad girl..."

"Hey! I am not bad. I am a good girl. Innocent."

It was getting dark out after they went on a few roller coaster rides and ate lunch. They decided to go on a Farris Wheel before they leave. 

Melanie leaned on Jon's shoulder as she looked at the sunset. 

"You really made my day." he smiled down at her.

"Glad to hear. I love making you smile."

"Why?"

"Because you make me happy when you smile." she smiled at him.

He leaned down and kissed her. "I love you, Mel."

"I love you too."

'Back at Jon's Hotel Room'

Melanie was in the bathroom while Jon was watching TV. "Mel, are you all right in there? You've been in there a while," he called out.

"Hey! Don't rush me!" She yelled as he laughed.

Melanie was in the bathroom, looking at herself in a dark blue Victoria's Secret set. She decided to put her hair up as well. 

"All right." She grinned to herself. She walked out of the bathroom and leaned on the door. "What do you think?"

He turned his attention to her and stared at her body, checking her out, up and down.

"Damn..." He got up and walked over to her but she shook her head.

"You're always in control. Now it's my turn. Let it be about you tonight." She pushed him on the bed. "So, sit back, relax and let this chica work her magic. Let me...be your Mox girl tonight."

"Your wish is my command..." He smirked as she straddled him and started to kiss him.

'Next week, Hours before The Slammy Awards on Raw'

Morgan was walking backstage, all ready in her black dress but gets grabbed by Dean. 

"Dean, what the heck?" She exclaimed as he dragged her to a room and shut it behind him. She watched him seething in anger. "What's wrong? Dean, what is going on with you? You've been off your rocker for a while now and I want to know what is going on." 

She leaned on the wall while he was glaring at the floor. He was already in his suit for the Slammys. She couldn't help but notice that they were in a storage closet. Wouldn't a locker room be better to discuss stuff? 

"Was it the kiss? Dean, there was no way I could have stopped the kiss, okay? Plus, I already got my revenge with the help of I mean, I already got my revenge on Goldust by giving him a backfire on Smackdown. We don't need to worry­-"

"Why didn't you tell me about the Wyatts?" He looked up at her. 

Morgan froze. She was in hot water now but knew that it was coming. She really didn't want to talk about the Wyatts right now, so she decided to play dumb.

"What are you talking about?" She asked with a confused look.

"What happened between you and the Wyatts?"

"Nothing."

"I'll ask you again...what happened between you and the Wyatts?"

"Nothing!"

"You know I don't like it when you lie to me..."

"I'm not lying."

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not!" 

"What happened between you and The Wyatts?"

"Drop it." She retorted.

"Answer me."

"Drop it. Drop it right now. You're being ridiculous..."

"Oh...now you want to play that game huh? Well, let's play another game." He pushed her to the wall and pinned her arms on top of her head with one hand. "Now, I'm going to ask you again...what is going on between you and the Wyatts?" He asked as she was taken aback before regaining her composure.

"I have no idea what you're talking about..." She narrowed her eyes.

"Won't tell me the truth huh? Then I'll make you." He began to touch her thigh with his free hand, raising it up slowly.

"Okay!" She exclaimed as he released her. "It all started on Raw when Luke saved me from Goldust. I asked him, why did he save me and he said that he didn't know. On Smackdown, Luke was watching me talk to Kaitlyn and that was the time when I got distracted. So, when you, Roman and Seth kept giving me the cold shoulder and told me I couldn't manage you guys at Survivor Series, The Wyatts came and told me that they would be waiting for me." She explained as Dean started to get angry. "And, when I got locked in a closet during Survivor Series, Bray was there, saying I had to unleash what's inside of me. Then, last week on Smackdown...Luke...helped me get revenge on Goldust..."

"So you lied to my face, every time I asked you what was wrong or what was going on with you and the Wyatts..." He muttered.

"I'm sorry, okay?"

"Sorry? You're not sorry, not yet." He pinned her arms to the wall again. She could smell his cologne and could feel his body heat on her. "Do you know how it made me feel when you gave him a small smile? Hm? That smile...should have been for me and me only, not any other man..." He growled. 

"And do you know how it made me feel when he grabbed your wrist? When he touched you? The only man who should touch you is me and me only." He breathed in her ear as she closed her eyes. "You're mine...Not Goldust's and certainly not Luke's...you got that?"

She couldn't speak because she was too hypnotized by his words. It turned her on a little. "I..."

"You're mine and I'll destroy anyone who wants to take you away from me."

"Why are you acting like this?" 

"Because you drove me to this, Morgan...you make me lose my mind...I'm crazy about you..." He started to kiss her neck as she bit her lip and sighed. "Say you're mine...Answer me, Morgan." He said in a demanding voice.

"I-­I'm yours."

"Say it like you mean it."

"I'm yours."

"Good and that better stay that way..." He looked at her as she was breathing heavily. He was about to kiss her but backed away as she was about to kiss him. "I'm sorry, did you want a kiss from me? Well, maybe next time you'll remember who makes you hot and bothered all the time instead of giving smiles to other men and lying to me." He smirked at her and left the room as she tried to get herself together.

'Raw'

During the preshow, they announced that The Shield won Hashtag of the Year, Breakout Star of the Year, and Faction of the Year.

Morgan tweets 'Woo! My boys and I are on fire tonight! #BelieveInTheShield'

Then, on the WWE Website, they revealed that Dean and Morgan won Couple and Kiss of the Year.

Morgan tweets 'Couple and Kiss of the Year? Nice. Looks like it's the start of #MrAndMrsAmbrose #BelieveinDeanAndMorgan'

'Later'

Later on Raw, "Ladies and Gentlemen please welcome the presenters for Double Cross of The Year, The Shield!" Justin announced.

'Sierra'

'Hotel'

'India'

'Echo'

'Lima'

'Delta'

'Shield.'

The Shield walk out in black. The male members had on black suits while Morgan wore her black dress and had her hair out and curly at the end. 

"Hey! Wow, do they ever look like winners," JBL said. "They look great!"

Seth was on the left while Morgan, Dean and Roman were next to him. Morgan heard the crowd cheering loudly and heard the women screaming. 

"I know...I know...I look great." Dean smiled as the fangirls screamed for the male members.

"Wow." Morgan listened in amazement. "I think you guys killed the Fangirls. Yikes," She said as the screams got louder.

"And what about you?" Seth asked.

"I didn't do anything, you three made the women fan girl like crazy. Am I right?" she asked as the women cheered in agreement.

"And what about the fanboys?"

"Oh, I don't have fanboys." She shrugged.

"Oh really? Does Morgan have some fanboys out there?" Seth asked as the men cheered loudly.

Morgan looked flattered as the guys chanted 'We Love Morgan!'

"Oh, you guys are just trying to make me blush..." She giggled. Moments later, the fans, mostly the males, chant 'Twirl.'

"You guys wanna see Morgan twirl?" Seth suggested as the guys cheered loudly. "Let them see your dress."

"Okay, fine." She walked to the stage and twirled around as she heard wolf whistles in the crowd. She giggled and walked back to The Shield and stood in between Dean and Seth.

"Stay away, she's mine," Dean announced as the guys boo him. "I know, I know, I'm lucky. I got the sexiest woman in this company. Kiss and Couple of the Year. Top that." He bragged.

Seth started to get annoyed. Dean's cockiness was starting to tick him off, especially when he bragged about having Morgan as his girlfriend. 

'We get it, you're her boyfriend. Don't be cocky'. He thought. 

He really wanted Morgan to at least slap the cockiness off his face one day. 

The Outspoken Diva didn't like Dean bragging and or his cockiness just like Seth and Roman. It was a little bit too much. And extremely unnecessary.

"Um, let's not make it about me, let's make it about the Double Cross of the year." she grinned at the crowd as they cheered.

"Double Cross of the year...Now we've already picked up two awards, tonight in the pre show, along with me and Morgan winning kiss and couple of the year, but this is one award, we know nothing about," Dean said.

"That's right my man," Seth spoke. "2013, year of The Shield. But all that justice we dispensed, we did it our way. Man to Man, straight up. Hahaha."

"So, if you're thinkin' about crossing." Roman began. "Or even double crossing The Shield, I'd wake up. Because you're gonna pay the price. And that's why-"

"That's why you'll never see our names." Dean interrupted as Morgan and Roman glanced at him. "In this category. Your nominees are..." He continued as the titantron showed the nominees which were Mark Henry, Shawn Michaels, Paul Heyman, and Triple H. After the fans voted, and when the Miz was in the ring with Kofi, Seth began to talk again.

"And your winner for Double Cross of the year is..." Seth trailed off as Dean opened up the envelope. 

The group takes a look at the result as Dean widens his eyes and looks up and then back at the envelope. Seth and Morgan were waiting for Dean to say the winner but Roman was tired of waiting and spoke up.

"Shawn Michaels!" he announced as the crowd cheered and Dean looked a little annoyed. 

When Shawn walks out, he shakes hands with The Shield and hugs Morgan, kissing her on the cheek

Morgan tweets 'Thanks for the support #FanBoys! I love you all! #KeepBelievingInMorgan'

In The Ring'

Punk was in the ring while Dean was with The Shield at ringside. CM Punk and Morgan lock eyes and smirk at each other.

"You're just asking for a punch in the face," Morgan said to him.

"I got this. I don't want help. I got this." Dean said to his team.

"Okay. We got you." Roman replied.

"It's just CM Punk, you got him, man," Seth added. 

When the match starts Dean and Punk lock up.

"Take him out." Roman looked on.

Punk starts taking control of Dean's arm. "Don't yank his arm off!" Morgan exclaimed. 

The crowd was chanting 'CM Punk' as he continued to take control of his arm. Morgan was watching Punk's movements closely. Punk can hurt people, the hand, wrists, arms, legs, knees, anything. 

Dean manages to knee him in the ribs when he goes high risk and starts to take control. Later on, Punk manages to do a flying clothesline outside the ring on Ambrose and turns his attention to Rollins and Reigns who are stalking him on each side of the ring. Morgan was on Seth's side, keeping her distance from the drama.

"CM Punk is in deep trouble," Cole said as they went to a commercial.

Near The End Of The Match, Punk hits Dean with a crossbody but Dean rolls them over and pins him for a near fall and as soon as they get up, Punk kicks him in the head. He pins him for another near fall as The Shield were relieved. 'This is awesome' chants surround the arena as Dean throws Punk out the ring, near The Shield. Dean distracts the ref as The Shield look at Punk and trash talk to him. 

But then Ambrose gets out of the ring and starts arguing with his team.

"You know what? How about the three of you just go." Dean throws Punk in the ring.

"Are you kidding me, right now?" Morgan asked, looking confused.

"I said leave!" Dean yelled.

"Excuse me? Who do you think you're talking to?" She snapped and stepped up to him. "You're not gonna talk to me like that. You've lost your mind!"

"Uh oh! Uh oh!" Cole exclaimed as the crowd started to get hyped. The fans were standing up to get a good look at them fighting.

"Back up, Morgan, back up..." Ambrose growled as Roman held him back.

"You wanna yell at me? Who do you think you are?" She shouted in his face.

"Would you calm down and just go? Damn it! You don't freaking listen! Just go!"

"How about you ask nicely instead of yelling at me!"

"Morgan! Calm down! Don't argue with your boyfriend! Where is the love!?" JBL yelled as Seth and Roman were looking amused at Morgan, pleased that she was putting him in his place.

"The Shield are showing cracks..." King looked on.

"More like Dean and Morgan are showing cracks. Morgan looks livid." Cole said.

"I wonder if the WWE Universe wants to see them feud again someday," King said.

"They better not!" JBL retorted.

"Get out of here. I don't need you." Ambrose waved her away.

"You don't need me?" She slowly repeated, taking it all in.

"Are you deaf? I don't need you. Get out of my damn sight." His anger got the best of him.

"Oh, okay then." She decided to smack him across the face as the crowd went wild and Roman released him.

"Morgan!" Seth held her back, secretly happy that she slapped him.

Dean holds his cheek and looks at her in shock.

"Damn..." Roman murmured, looking at the red handprint on Dean's face. He was amused and happy she did it.

"She just slapped her boyfriend! I thought you two loved each other!" JBL complained and started freaking out. "Morgan! What are you doing?! Couple of the year! Mr and Mrs Ambrose! This should not be happening!" 

"Oh well, it's happening!" Cole cheered as the crowd chanted 'Yes!'

"What the hell was that for?!" Ambrose yelled while Seth let Morgan go.

"You're cocky, that's why. I'm tired of it." She confessed. "We're tired of it." She pointed at Seth and Roman. "So, if you're this confident and don't need us, fine. Bye, have a nice life. Go focus on your match, don't worry about me, you don't need me or Seth and Roman." She started walking near the ramp as Seth and Roman followed her. 

In the ring, Ambrose gets hit with the GTS as The Shield look annoyed and Ambrose loses the match.

"Wow..." She retorted and shook her head, turning around and getting on the apron. Punk looked alert as she smirked at him. "Hey, how ya doing?"

Punk was about to run after her but she smoothly gets off the apron and laughs. Seth tries to get in the ring as Punk tries to go after him but he slides out of the ring. Once Punk turns around, he gets speared by Reigns and holds his stomach in pain. 

"A spear! A spear by Reigns!" Cole exclaimed. "Now those ribs may be broken."

Morgan gets in the ring and stalks Punk. She waits for him to get on his knees and she hits him with a spinning kick in the face, dropping him as the crowd 'Ohs'

"Ooh, you may wanna put ice on that." She slid out of the ring as The Shield's theme came on.

Rollins helps Dean get over the barricade as Punk recovers and holds his ribs. He looks at The Shield and then Morgan, nodding to himself.

"Okay...all right...okay," he said to himself.

Morgan tweets 'Couples aren't perfect. We are going to argue and fight. #INeedSpace'

Morgan also tweets 'Oh poor CMPunk. Those ribs aren't gonna heal in 6 days. You sure you want to face my boys at TLC?'

'WWEMorgan101 You picked a fight. You started it. Now I'm going to finish it. It's on now.' Punk replies.

'Hit me with your best shot CMPunk.' Morgan replies back.

'Be careful what you wish for. I found your weakness.' Punk replies back.

'WWE Exclusive on Raw'

Morgan was walking backstage, annoyed and sat on a black crate and tried to calm herself down. 

"Rough night?" Roman asked as he walked over to her.

"Ya think?" She snapped.

"Easy tiger. Just trying to be a friend."

"I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that. I just need space."

"From Dean?"

"You can say that. He can be so annoying at times. I'm tired of him bragging. It kind of gets out of hand, you know?"

"Me and Seth agree. I didn't like how he snapped at you moments ago. That was uncalled for." 

"I'm used to his anger issues..."

"Couples argue you know. You're not perfect. You're going to disagree."

"I know. I guess my anger just escalated until I couldn't take it anymore."

"Seth and I understand why you did what you did. Don't beat yourself up. So, are you going to talk to him?"

"Me? Talk to him? No. He can talk to me. I'm not speaking to him until he apologizes."

"Sounds fair enough."

"Anyway, thanks for listening to me vent. You're a good friend." Morgan got off the crate and hugged him.

"You're here for me, I'm here for you. We have each other's backs. I told you from the beginning when you started being The Shield's Girl."

"Yeah. I can't wait for the new year."

"Why?"

"To see you rise as a big star. You're a beast in that ring, man. I can see you as WWE Champion one day." She playfully punched his shoulder as he chuckled.

"Thanks. You know Morgan, I want to see you wrestle superstars one day."

"Like my cousin?"

"Hey, you never know. I can see you do it. You're not fragile."

"One day, just not anytime soon. I need to mentally prepare myself for that. I'm just not ready to face any superstar this year." 

Roman grinned. "It better be in 2014."

"Never say never."

----

'Smackdown'

The Shield was in the ring while Dean was on commentary. 

"We're back on Friday Night Smackdown, The Shield in tag team action against The Usos and we're joined by the United States Champion, Dean Ambrose at ringside. We'll be talking a lot with Dean about his match with The Shield on Sunday against CM Punk. Dean, a match that hardly seems fair to CM Punk." Cole said.

"Well, I thought I just join you guys out here on the booth because I wanna make sure that you guys understand how much trouble CM Punk is really in. It's just a hopeless situation that CM Punk is gonna be in this Sunday at TLC when he steps in the ring...with The Shield." Dean replied as the Usos made their way to the ring.

Cole and JBL start talking about their show and how they won a Slammy for it. 

"You wanna talk about Slammy awards..." Cole began.

"The Shield picked up a lot of Slammy awards," Dean said.

"Indeed you did, listen to this Dean, The Shield won, breakout star of the year, hashtag of the year." 

"I didn't have enough room in my suitcase to fit all my Slammys."

"The faction of the year and the maneuver of the year for Roman Reigns' spear."

"And don't forget kiss and couple of the year with Dean and Morgan," JBL reminded.

"Morgan and I won those awards hands down. We sacrifice things for each other, we love each other and we are the hottest couple in this company. Plain and simple. If we didn't win those awards, it would have been an injustice. Now, it was an injustice that she didn't win diva of the year but she is still one of the most dominant divas in this company and she continues to shine each and every time she gets in the ring. She's the Harley Quinn of my dreams." Ambrose smirked.

"Speaking of the Outspoken diva, where is she?" Cole asked.

"She should be here soon. She had to get ready since she had some errands to do." Dean explained.

'To Morgan'

Morgan was already in her Shield attire and was putting on her gloves. She then began to hear footsteps.

"Guys, I said I'm coming..." She called out but heard a thump. "Guys?" She looked around.

"Think again." A voice said as her eyes widened.

"W-­what are you doing here?"

"Sit down." The voice ordered as she quickly obeyed and sat on a chair.

'Back to Dean'

"I have a question, are The Shield showing cracks? You've kind of rubbed Morgan the wrong way on Raw when you yelled at her." Cole said.

"Yeah! What the heck Dean? You two are my favorite couple. Why would you two argue like that?" JBL exclaimed.

"Well, the crowd seemed to love it."

"No, they didn't. That's a lie."

"Listen, Morgan and I aren't perfect. We're gonna argue and we're gonna fight. All couples do that." Dean replied.

"So, what's your status with Morgan?" Cole asked.

"We're...still not talking."

"Still not talking? Dean, you two gotta get it together!" JBL exclaimed.

"Guess you two hit a rocky road." Cole declared. "You think you alienated yourself from Rollins and Reigns as well?"

"What about the last 365 days? That didn't show cracks." Dean said.

"Okay, and what about the cracks now? Crack number one was on Smackdown when you said that you were the baddest man in The Shield and went to take on Punk all by yourself to much of the dismay of Rollins and Reigns. Crack number two was on Raw when you decided to yell at Morgan and got slapped in the face while you two were arguing. And crack number three was when The Shield decided to walk up the ramp." Cole mentioned. "What's up with that?"

"We eat, sleep and breathe this business. That's why Rollins and Reigns and I are like brothers. We're passionate about this business." Dean replied.

"Morgan still isn't here. You sure she even came to work?" JBL asked.

Dean was starting to get worried. "Now I am getting a little worried," Dean admitted with concern in his voice as he wondered where she was.

Near the end of the match, Seth mocks CM Punk and does the GTS on one of the Usos as Roman spears the Uso for the win. 

"And The Shield are victorious," Cole announced.

"At TLC, CM Punk will...Believe in The Shield." Dean took off his headset and celebrated with his teammates.

Suddenly, Morgan is on the titantron in a dark arena, looking worried as The Shield's theme comes off.

"Guys...we have a problem..." She said in a shaky voice as the screen revealed CM Punk behind her and the crowd exploded. 

Ambrose glares at Punk while Roman and Reigns aren't looking too happy. Normally, Morgan would disobey but Punk had a kendo stick and kendo sticks hurt. She started to remember the days when Tommy Dreamer had his back bloodied up by the Sandman with a Singapore cane during the ECW days. She did not wanna go down that road. Weapons would be her weakness if she didn't have a weapon to defend herself. It's been so long since she's been hit with a weapon.

"This is CM Punk, broadcasting in an undisclosed location...actually this is just a basement in the arena." Punk spoke as Ambrose was about to get out of the ring but Seth and Roman stopped him. "Ambrose, I wouldn't do that if I were you...wouldn't want your precious little girlfriend to pay the price, would you?" He smirked as he revealed a kendo stick.

Ambrose starts seething while Seth and Roman glare at Punk. Punk puts the kendo stick on Morgan's left shoulder as she shuts her eyes, looking nervous.

"Just get that stick out of here. It's not necessary." she opens her eyes, shaking her head.

"Oh, so now you're begging? After all the trash you've said? I've found your weakness. Weapons." Punk said as she started to get annoyed. "One of these days Morgan, I want to see if you can actually put those words into truths in the ring. So, you ask why is it necessary to put this stick on your shoulder? Maybe it's because I am this close to whacking you in the face with it. I hope you don't think I forgot about that kick in the face...Now...I could get my revenge on you now..." He continued as the crowd cheered to encourage him.

"Don't you touch her! Don't you dare hurt her!" Seth yelled as Roman tried to calm him down while Ambrose shot a dirty look at Punk.

Punk chuckled. "Don't worry...I'm not gonna hurt her...yet...she can wait. So, you guys make your videos here? It's filthy...it stinks...but I understand that this is your little clubhouse and this is where you like to gather to say your messages. And...I like to send messages too...Like on Raw when a certain somebody decided to put his hands on me just like Morgan here."

He sets the kendo stick down and starts taping his hands. 

"Now on to this Sunday...I believe...it's three on one, The Shield against CM Punk. I believe I'm walking into a whole sail of slaughter. I've said it in the past...Shield, I may be going down...but the question you need to be asking yourselves, Roman Reigns, Seth Rollins, Dean Ambrose...is how many of you I'm takin' with me. 'Cause I believe, the last two times...I've been in the ring with a member of The Shield, I've exposed your weaknesses boys..." He grinned as the crowd cheered again. "Believe! In the best in the world." Punk showed his fist to the camera and pushed it away.

"We got this. No one can touch us!" Seth yelled before the three of them quickly ran to find Morgan.

'WWE TLC'

The Shield was on the titantron during the preshow. 

"Good for CM Punk...putting on that brave face...Who do you think you're kidding?" Dean asked. "You know exactly what this is. You know exactly what The Shield is going to do to you tonight, Punk. We're going to beat you to a pulp so you should be scared."

"Punk, you think you can divide and conquer? Well, to steal a catchphrase from another man we put down, it doesn't matter what you think." Seth laughed. "You can't divide us...you damn sure ain't gonna conquer us. Punk, we're forged out of iron. The Shield is unyielding."

"Punk, after what you did on Smackdown, I really can't wait to see you get your ass beat by my boys tonight." Morgan retorted.

"Punk, Punk, Punk, the way I look at it, you're just a liar. In front of the whole world, you've lied. You have no chance tonight. To be honest I think uh, I think you got a little confused last week when I speared you in half, but the thing is, there's one more waiting for ya. You can't take us with you." Roman said.

"CM Punk is a man of conviction. CM Punk is a man of beliefs. But after tonight, Punk, you're only gonna believe in one thing...you're gonna believe in The Shield." Dean pushed the camera away.

'Later'

The Shield was in the ring with CM Punk as their theme song faded. Morgan was in her Shield shirt with black jeans and black boots and fingerless gloves.

Before the bell rings, Brad Maddox walks to the stage. "Wait a second! Wait a second!" He yelled as the crowd boos.

"What is he doing here?" JBL asked as The Shield looked confused.

"There's been a slight change in the match up." Brad said as The Shield looked at each other.

Morgan grabbed a mic. "Um, what do you mean slight change? This match was fine as a three on one match. Punk deserves this beating that he's gonna get tonight " She got cut off by Dean who snatched the mic out of her hands. 

The crowd gave him mixed reactions while Morgan looked at him in surprise and annoyance. 

"Wow..." she muttered, shaking her head at him. 

"What she meant to say was Brad, even if you change the stipulation of the match, it's still going to be a win/win situation for The Shield. The Shield are going to beat Punk into a pulp." Ambrose said with a smug look while Morgan rolled her eyes.

"I see there's another crack in The Shield." King pointed out as Seth and Roman were annoyed at Dean's actions too.

"Well, then maybe your confidence might boost a little bit. Because, since Punk, personally requested this, this match is now a 4 on 1 match!" Brad announced.

"Wait, what? With who?" Morgan asked Seth and Roman.

"It will be...CM Punk versus Dean Ambrose, Seth Rollins, Roman Reigns and Morgan Lopez!" Brad announced.

"What!?" King yelled in a high pitched voice as Morgan slowly turned her head to Brad.

The crowd went wild, chanting 'Yes!' while Punk laughed.

The Outspoken Diva looked at Brad in disbelief. 

Did she hear him correctly? There had to be some kind of mistake.

"Punk personally asked for Morgan to be in the match!?" Cole exclaimed.

"This is not good," JBL said as The Shield turned at Morgan as she looked at Brad and then Punk. "Morgan, run. Run now, run fast."

"Nowhere to hide now." Punk pointed at her.

"Who said I'm hiding?" She retorted.

"Calm down. We got this." Seth said and put her hand on her shoulder.

"Morgan is going to face a WWE Superstar?" King exclaimed.

"Only if she gets in the ring. The Shield might not let her, so she should be okay." JBL added.

"When's the last time a WWE Diva went on to face a WWE Superstar?" Cole asked.

"I'm going to enjoy making you go to sleep, Morgan." Punk taunted.

"And I'm going to enjoy kicking you in the face." She stepped up.

Ambrose smirked. "Over my dead body." He stepped up to Punk as the ref tried to separate them. 

Morgan started to get annoyed again since Dean decided to fight her battles when she didn't need help defending herself. She got on the apron with Seth and Roman as Dean and Punk started off the match.

She tried to get her head together, processing everything that just happened. She wasn't mentally prepared to wrestle a superstar yet and to be dropped with a bombshell like this was insane. She had a feeling she would be going down but decided to keep her head up high and step up. She brought herself into this, so she needs to face the consequences. 

She studied Punk's moves, but was she ready to face him? 

Physically? She'll have to see. 

Mentally? Not so much.

"Put up or shut up time Morgan. You talked trash about Punk, now let's see if you can live up to those words." Cole said.

"Punk says that Morgan is all talk but no action. I'd like to see her take action." King said.

"We just won't tag her in," Dean said to Seth and Roman.

"Um, excuse me, who said I didn't want to be tagged in?" Morgan asked, gaining her composure back. "I'm not hiding behind you guys any longer. Tag me in. Right now." she had her hand out as the crowd cheered. 

Punk was looking forward to this as Ambrose looked at him, Morgan and then the crowd.

"No," Dean answered and turned his attention to Punk. 

Roman glared at Ambrose for that while Rollins looked annoyed.

"Seriously...?" She grumbled while Roman put his hand on her shoulder.

"Don't lose your cool." Roman calmly told her as she nodded. 

He knew she wasn't going to take much more of this. Punk knew it, the crowd knew it, and Seth knew it.

"It's a whole different ball game for Morgan. We've seen her argue and put her hands on The Shield. But let's find out if she has what it takes to be in a match with a WWE Superstar." JBL said as Morgan was in deep thought, watching Punk's movements, thinking of a plan as the match started.

------

Favorite Hashtag?

#BelieveInTheShield

#MrAndMrsAmbrose

#BelieveInDeanAndMorgan

#FanBoys

#KeepBelievingInMorgan

#INeedSpace

[ducknotinarow]

Blitz - Family Meme; all that apply uwu

| Talking about family

"You want me to go on about my Loony? Oh sure I love my daughter, Course there is also my baby sister I can chat about here also no problem. Uh? Wait...all of them? Fuck my life. WHY!"

Send 👔 for my muse to talk about their father

"Oh yeah my Dad was a real great Dad, wouldn't dare consider ever giving up his gold ticket Fizz but me? Me he'll sell for whatever you got in your pocket. Though I'm pretty surprised he took the sale at all? So I guess I have some kind of value? Think he just hand me off."

Blitz's Dad aint gonna be getting a 'world's greatest Dad' mugs from Blitz anytime soon. Cash Buckzo is clearly not any sort of loving parents towards Blitz not above manipulating them as a small child using his Mother against him just to get what they wanted from Blitz. It's pretty telling that even as a small child Blitz wouldn't do just anything for his Dad but can be swayed by the mere mention of his mother. Blitz clearly has no real hang ups when it comes to father he seems happy to drop them and forget them especially since Cash was clearly the reason he never got to speak to Fizz again and he's not phased at all to see him being a reason for that. Blitz dose clearly wish to be a much better father himself. And maybe be why despite Loona's age he treats her how he dose.

I feel it's also a part of what makes him like Stolas a lot, he can tell Stolas is a caring father. When they got trapped in the van together and Stolas was worrying about Via? Yeah course that's important to him.

Send 👚 for my muse to talk about their mother

"....Mom? Well I mean I loved her a lot. She was the best, she wasn't in the best of health but she always just..just made things better." Blitz clearly has a real sore spot when it comes to his mother. She was already his weakness as a kid he would do anything if he felt it would help his mom. She seemed the type in indulge her kids in their talents like Blitz love to draw despite being bad at it he still dose it even being aware he is in fact bad at it but it makes him happy and if anything makes him think of her. Though the fire wasn't truly his fault just a freak accident it was the worse day of his life. His family fell apart because like he stated in the very first episode, losing a mother ruins a family. And Blitz blames everything on himself, he's the reason he lost his mother after all and he is the reason he no longer has his sister in his life either. Still can't say the loss of his dad means that much to him but thats a pain he's dealt with forever.

His mother clearly holds a special place in his heart seeing how he keeps the skull oddment she once wore around her own neck. Not to mention the sight of his mother in a photo can send his emptions over the edge. And him feeling he caused him to lose his mother really just seeped into any other possible relationship he might find himself in.

Send 🤜 for my muse to talk about (one of) their sibling(s)

"....I mean I got Blair still..at least."

Blair being @questionablemuses oc XD Who I just love so course I gotta mention her ;3; well get to her in a bit.

Blitz has a twin sister Barbie who he was once close to even having a twin act along with his sister when he got a bit older. Likely happening once Fizz gained more popularirty seeing how the pair of them used to be a duo. Blitz and Barbie instead became an act together and clearly Babrie also was a very talent act carrying her brother in their shows. Which as young kids likely didn't bug her at first but I feel over time? did start to impact her feeling held back by her brother when she could be more on par with Fizz if not for Blitz. But thats her brother after all. Untill the fire which took away any chance she had from her, took her own mother away as well. I feel barbie stayed in touched with her father and likely let him help her try and book some gigs for a time. But that would lead her down a bad path of addiction. Blitz dosen't blame Barb for hating his guts if anything eh feels she is right to hate him. But he still tries his best he really dose. Trying to visit her when she was in rehab no matter how often he was kicked out or screamed at by her. In fact? I feel Blitz is the reason she ended up in rehab just adding more to the conflict between them. Blitz trying to be there for the last bit of family he has left. But seen as ruining things for Barb because of the jobs she had that allowed her the drugs she was getting hooked on.

Blair is the last bit of family he has that dosen't hate him or is gone. Blitz often wondering how long ti will take till Blair wises up finally. Well trying his best to hopfully not give her a reason to wisen up so to speak. Blitz however can be a bit overbearing with being protective of Blair. When it comes to who she dates and works not really mattering who it is Blitz is not a fan of anyone sucking on his sisters neck u-u Sorry Blair he cares he just Blitz one day he'll clam down when hes like old XD

Send 👶 for my muse to talk about (one of) their child(ren)

"I love my daughter, look at all these cute photos I have of her! My Loonie is so perfect like always~ Others just haven't seen how great she is!" Blitz I feel adopted Loona over any other hellhound, because he saw himself in Loona. Loona dose share a lot of traits with Blitz and both coming from these troubling backgrounds being rejected and abandoned? It's like that phase be the adult that child you needed in their life. Blitz however even with Loona still has the hadbit of keeping distance his overbearing and grossly over affection he knows she hates is a good way to keep a bit distance between them. Well still keeping the relationship there, course he fears her leaving as well and likey why he isn't too knee on her dating because she might leave and never come back.

He dose try to parent here but he clearly has no idea what he is doing, not to mention not treating her at the right age she is in. Some part likely has todo with how Hellhounds work he just dosen't treat her as a work hand of sorts. Which maybe be why Loona dose have some softness towards Blitz she just also good at keeping people away and at a distance. Blitz kind of allowing the over aggressive version she goes about it dosen't help but dose create a sort of understanding between them. She wouldn't worry about him if she didn't bother to learn about him she kind of gets the closest look at the mess he is living with him after all.

[clochanamarc]

i suddenly just wanna yell abt aisling's maternal instincts and how she's such an excellent mother. like. like she hates peanut butter and jelly, but advik loves it, so she makes sure to get the right kind of jelly every time, she gets the crunchy peanut butter, she buys the fresh bakery bread every morning. she hates making orange juice with the juicer, but victor and elena love the stuff, and tim only drinks it smooth, so she gets up every morning and juices the hell out of a dozen oranges and sieves out the pulp from a third of it, just so her kids can enjoy it after school. she feels so uncomfortable going to the school parties and proms, because the moms always give her that distrusting look, the teachers don't like her, but eli is so scared to go on his first prom to dance with his date, and so she promises to go and to be there to drive him home if he needs to leave early.

aisling has exactly no experience of motherhood prior to her kids. she doesn't have any memories of moira brushing her hair or singing a lullaby or making her soup when she was sick; because moira despised her enough that she just ignored her unless she needed something. and now, aisling has ten foster kids, and she'd fight to the death for any of them. she cries her heart out when they call her "mom" for the first time. she treasures that "world's greatest mom" mug above most of her belongings. she works so hard to make sure these kids know how much she loves and cares for them, and just. i just adore her so fucking much. and i think everyone should let her adopt their young/teenage muses bc she woULD LOVE THEM SO MUCH AND CARE AND JUST--

[nbundarin]

Acceptance (Fanfic)

Clark Kent strummed his fingers on his knee. He could count on a few of them the amount of time he had ever had a butterfly and now he could add a pinky. For Gotham, Leslie Thompkins’s apartment was a stark contrast to the gothic, brutalist and Tim Burton fever dream outside. It was a two bed, two bath, accented in Alice blue and Roux white. The decor had a modern sensibility but the paintings lining the walls and photographs spotting here and there made it homie. On Zillow it would make a great steal, if Zillow dared to list anything in Gotham. Clark had particularly smiled at a picture of Leslie, standing between a beautiful red-headed bride, in a decked-out wheelchair, lilac, laced around her spokes, and a sharp-looking groom, his Biscayne blue’s elevating his boy next door smile.

            “You made a very handsome usher,” Leslie stood between the linoleum of the kitchen and the hard wood of the living room. She was a petite woman, with silver hair, sloppily bundled on her head, and chocolate brown eyes framed in cat rimmed glasses. She could be the aunt who tells you a bawdy joke at the family Christmas party or your mom’s best friend whose advice you take even when your parents said the exact same thing

            “That was a fun night,” Clark started. 

“For the world’s greatest introvert, Bruce knows how to throw a party.” The kettle whistled for attention and Leslie called over her shoulder.

“You and Lois certainly know how to cut a rug.”

“You and Alfred were no slouches either, Doctor Thompkins.”

“Clark.”

“Sorry. Leslie.” She returned with twin mugs of tea.

“You Midwestern boys and your politeness. It’s a warm welcome from, GET OUT OF THE WAY OR ALL BLOW YOUR HEAD OFF!”

“Rush hour in Metropolis has its fair share of angry drivers too.”

“It was the Supermarket.” Leslie placed her mug on a coaster and as she handed the other to the former journalist,

“Careful it’s ho—” She remembered,

“Sorry, forgot who I was talking too.” Clark thanked her as he laced the tea in his hands. Leslie situated herself, the coffee table dividing them.

“You don’t take notes?” Clark asked.

“No. I find it too distracting.”

“I wouldn’t X-Ray them if you did.”

“Saves me from buying led lined note pads.” She winked at the farm boy.

“Just a reminder; Nothing is off the table. No emotion is unwarranted. I do have insurance, so if you want to start zapping things, please direct it at the ugly string art my cousin Dorothy got me from Tucson.” Clark spotted it, across the room.

“It must be really, interesting, being the Superheroes’ therapist.”

 Leslie laughed.

“Thinking about maybe getting my own costume. But seriously, behind the capes and the superpowers your people too.” 

“Even if you come from another planet,” she added.

“Having teenagers, I feel the same way, Usually I would go to my mom or Bruce for advice, but he said you would be a better fit.”

“You and Him became very close,” Leslie observed.

“Almost twenty years. I always hate it when people call us frenemies. Bruce is one of my best friends, he would technically be Jordan’s Godfather, if Me and Lois were the religious type. I wasn’t always thrilled with his choices, especially when he brought Dick into the fight, but the kid turned out great, as did the others.”

“I think it would be fair to say you helped keep the rosy in that boy’s cheeks. You came up with Nightwing didn’t you?” Clark chuckled at the Question.

“Yes, like you said though I just helped. But I have two boys full time and I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.” Clark caught the H word. Rarely would he use a damn but it felt honest.

“Once again Clark, you are no different than any parent today. Bruce has definitely not been perfect. But we’re not here to compare the Dark Knight and the Man of Steel, we’re here to talk about you.” Clark took a long sip of hot green, choosing his next words.

“I wasn’t around as much as I should have, with the boys I mean. Between the Planet, Metropolis and the literal planet. I remember missing their seventh birthday. I had to lie and tell them I had to work on a scoop out of town.”

“What were you actually doing?” Leslie asked.

“Stopping a forest fire in California. But let me tell you, the disappointment in their faces was a lot more scorching. Especially Jordan.”

“Jordon is where you’re finding the most contention?”

“Yes and No. I don’t want to minimalize Jonathan. I took him from the only home he knows, he and his girlfriend broke up and theirs a huge possibility he may never have powers. He called Smallville his Kryptonite.”

“And what did you do?”

“I pulled the typical parental platitudes. You tell yourself you’re going to be different from your folks and then you open your mouth…” Leslie nodded.

“And Jordan?”

 The former journalist sat back.

“The kid is dealing with social-anxiety, he’s developing powers and there’s no telling what he’s capable of. I feel like I’m making it worse and Jordan confirmed it, loudly.” Leslie pressed on and Clark explained to her about everything, including taking Jordan to the Fortress, how his father made the kid feel inadequate, how he was struggling with the heat vision, the strength, Jonathan’s passive aggressive resentment, not to mention puberty was in the periphery.

“Elsa’s Ice castle?” They both shared a smile.

“I sent him to his room. Standard procedure in our house.”

            “No, it’s a good way to diffuse tension. It allows you to compartmentalize and figure your next move. I assume you talked after?”

            “Yes. And it was great. I got a smile out of him, until he got mad for something else and it feels like the entire board gets erased.”

            “He’s a teenager Clark. Not excusing any rudeness, but I think it’s great you give both your boys a little grace when expressing themselves. Some parents are too quick to jump at the smalless inflection in the voice or movement in the face.”

            “My parents were good about those things to. I can lift a submarine, break the sound barrier and kick Kalibak’s backside across Metropolis but Jordan…” He trailed off.

            “Jordan doesn’t need to be saved, Clark,” Leslie finished.

            “I didn’t say that.”

            “But that was where the bus was stopping. When you speak of Jonathan it’s more typical teenager. Having to move, new school, new football team—”

            “Jordan’s powers—”

            “You keep saying that too. I have a question for you.” Clark nodded.

            “Would you have preferred that Jonathan had the powers instead of Jordan?” she caught his hesitation, but waited.

            “I don’t have a favorite Leslie.” It came out more forced then intended but the therapists resolve did not waver.

            “That’s not what I asked Clark. I’ll rephrase, would it have been better If Jonathan had the powers.” Leslie hit a nerve, no small feat. He wouldn’t look into her eyes, just staring down at the tea bag at the bottom of his mug.

            “Jonathan, he has his flaws and like I said I have my short comings with him but, I get him. That sounds horrible. “

            “No, it doesn’t Clark. It sounds honest. Keep going.”

            “I suck at articulating myself.”

            “You’re doing fine. We’ll get every piece in the puzzle in its place.”

            “When I told them my secret, Jordon accused me of wanting John to have the powers instead of him. I take responsibility for not considering, it was just the hurt in his eyes, the hurt in both their eyes. Honestly, I was hoping neither of them would have them. These abilities come with a price. I’ve lost a lot along the way. You have enough on your plate in life without putting on a costume.”

            “Clark, I can tell you for a fact you don’t have a favorite. You just have a different relationship, no more no less, just different,” Leslie sipped.

“It’s not like Jordan and I have nothing in common. We have the same sense of humor, we share the same favorite flavor of ice cream, both love Stephen King novels, I can go on but the older he got the more separated we got and now we share this huge thing.” Clark paused for a moment. Lesley waited with a saint’s patience. 

            “I’m not worried Jordan is going to level a town or become a supervillain. Lois has always been his anker when it came to his mental health. She was able to quell every tantrum and talk him through every anxiety attack, I was lucky if I could make it to one of his therapy sessions. His brother even has a better grasp of what’s going on.”

            “I’m sure your, well maybe training is not the best word, but coaching him with these abilities?”

            “Yes of course, and it’s helped us get closer actually, it’s just…”

            “The unpredictability. I’ll repeat Clark, he’s a teenager. They are figuring things as they go along, they aren’t in the eye of the storm, they are the storm, social anxiety, super powers or not. You are capable of such great feats Clark. You can stop a building from burning with your freeze breath and weld the beams of broken bridges with your fire eyes…” Clark nodded while cracking a smile.

            “But Jordan is not a burning building, or a broken bridge, not even a cat in a tree. He’s a young man like you once were figuring out his place in the world and good fortune to him has a more developed support system.” Clarks’ brow lifted.

            “Don’t get me wrong, your parents were the gold standard. They took a baby and not just any baby, one that fell from the sky and raised him with unconditional love and helped him develop his gifts when they didn’t know what the heck they were doing and when you became a man, they supported you becoming a hero. Your mother made you your first costume. You won a lottery anyone would dream to cash in.” the farm boy shelved his brow, taking in this information as easy as his cup of tea.

            “From what you’ve told me, the boys are acclimating to small town life. Jonathan has made new friends and met a new girl and Jordon is coming out of his shell and through his abilities as well. You teaching him it’s actually bringing you two closer together, not further apart. You told me your powers are driven by emotion, that’s something you can relate to with Jordan, that’s your way in and you both can bounce off each other.”  Clark was about to respond—

            “But what if—”

            “Nope. What if Jordan zapped someone on the field? What if Jonathan blew up in that trailer? What ifs are bread and butter to intrusive thoughts and I sympathize with you having them, we all do. My understanding Clark is that a lot of these insecurities you have stem from Kara and not to be to blunt, Loise’s miscarriage.” That caught the Man of Steel off guard but remembered that Lois did talk to Leslie years ago.

            “I feel like I abandoned her.”

            “You were a young man in his early twenties, finding his place in the world. Not to mention introducing yourself to that world as Superman. No one could expect you to take care of a ten-year-old girl. You gave her to a family that helped her thrive and she has become a remarkable young woman and hero in her own right, regardless of sharing the same crest as her cousin and it wasn’t as if you flew away from her life, you still visited and kept in touch.”

            “And Lois?”

            “You both went through something that many have gone through. It is horrible and immeasurable painful and though you both may never heal completely from such a loss, you and Lois have been fantastic parents to those boys despite the fact you are not going to always get it right.” This was a lot for Clark to process and he could see the session would soon be up on the clock.

            “I know I’ve given you the cliff notes version and this has been a lot for a preliminary consultation, but I promise you if you come see me Clark, with an absolute understanding that you have two lives to juggle, I will help you navigate both sides to the best of my ability.”

            “I would really like that Leslie, I’ve never been this open with someone, except for Lois and I keep having these feelings of inadequacy.”

            “Clark honey. What you need to learn is acceptance. You see, you’re trying to solve everything with Superman, instead of Clark Kent, the husband and father. You have a secret identity for a reason. Jordon is going to be working with his anxiety for the rest of his life, it isn’t going to go away. You can’t protect him from it, like you protect a civilian from criminals. Same goes for Jonathan.” He nods.

            “You think you’re so alone Clark, another thing you and Jordon have in common. The truth is you are going through what so many men, parents, all together human beings have gone through. Trust me, I worked in Arkham. I have had sessions with nuisances like Condiment King all the way down the abyss with that evil fucking clown. I have seen hell in human and it wears a tacky purple suit. You have seen the embodiment of greed and xenophobia and you’ve come out on the other side a better person, but you have to accept that you can’t be invincible all the time and put away the cape when you need to.” Clark wiped his eyes as the clock chimed.

            “Now that I’ve talked your ear off. We will schedule are next session during the week and we will continue discussing all of this as much as we need to.” They both stood.

            “Thank you, Leslie.” Clark hugged the tiny woman and she hugged just as tight.

                                                                        The End

[cheerscoops]

Coffee Cups and Unconditional Love

Summary: Wayne Munson has been there for his nephew since before he was born, and he'll be there for him for the rest of his life - a.k.a. an explanation of why Wayne Munson owns so many coffee mugs as told through his relationship with his nephew

CW/TW: alcoholism, mentions of child neglect, death, illegal activities, dismissal of mental health issues because it's the 70s/80s, season 4 spoilers if you haven't finished yet

Word Count: 17.6k

A/N: I'm just gonna apologize in advance for this one. It was a labor of love, and I hurt my own feelings writing it.

April 1965

Wayne Munson was a simple man with simple tastes. It didn't take much to make him happy. A couple cigarettes from his pack of smokes, a cold beer, and a working radio were the only things he needed to unwind after a long shift at the plant. He mostly lived off of TV dinners, cold sandwiches, and cereal, and that was fine with him. He had never been the greatest cook, and not wasting his time in the kitchen gave him more energy for work anyway.

At the age of twenty-three, he only had a few more payments left to make on his trailer before he owned it outright, and he had a foldout bed for his younger brother Richard to use when things weren't going so great with their parents. He'd made it clear that his home was always open to him, no questions asked.

However, that didn't mean he wasn't surprised to find his brother and a crying girl sitting on his front step when he got back from the grocery store.

Wayne was a man of few words, and the few he did have did not equip him with the skills to handle a clearly distraught, sixteen year old girl. He and his brother exchanged a look before he wordlessly ushered the two inside.

He put on a fresh pot of coffee before busying himself with putting away his groceries, occasionally glancing over to where his brother was attempting to calm down the crying girl on his sofa.

"Everything is gonna be okay, Linda," he heard his brother say. "Wayne'll know what to do."

Once his groceries were put away and the coffee was finished brewing, he realized that he only had the one coffee mug. He found a couple of plastic juice cups in the back of one of his cabinets and poured the coffee into those and the lone mug. He set the mug in front of the girl and then handed one of the cups to his brother. He held his own cup as he sat down in the chair across from the couch.

Before he could ask what in the world was going on, the girl gave him a funny look.

“Where are your other mugs?” she asked as she wiped the tears from her eyes.

“I’ve only got the one,” he replied.

“Who only owns one coffee mug?”

Wayne shrugged.

“My mother owns three entertaining sets in different patterns with eight mugs a piece. I can’t imagine someone only having one mug.”

She sniffled a bit, but it seemed as though she’d stopped crying for now.

“Don’t really need more than one when you live alone,” he said before taking a sip of his coffee. “Now, does someone wanna tell me why you were crying on my porch?”

Wayne looked back and forth between the two as they shared a look, both hesitant to come right out and say it.

“I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on, Richie.”

“Linda’s pregnant,” Richie blurted out as he started talking a mile a minute. “We didn’t plan for it to happen or anything, but it did. And then her parents found out, and all hell broke loose. You shoulda heard what they said about me, Wayne. About us. About our family.”

Even without being there, Wayne could imagine it pretty perfectly. Their parents weren’t exactly the greatest people, and there was a reason he’d left home as soon as he could, a reason why he had a spare bed specifically for his brother. Their dad was a mean drunk and took it out on everyone around him. The neighbors would hear him yelling, and the next morning, broken furniture would be sitting on the curb waiting for the next garbage pickup. Their mom just made excuses for him and watched as it happened. A bystander in her own life sweeping up broken glass and scrubbing beer stains out of the carpet. They weren’t exactly the kind of family that you’d want your daughter to involve herself with. Wayne had some firsthand experience with that fact.

“It was just awful,” Linda said as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “They told me I could either stay with my cousins in Kentucky until I had the baby and gave it up, or I could get out of their house. So, I got up, and I marched out with Richie.”

“I didn’t know where else to take her,” Richie continued. “There’s no way I’d leave her at mom and dad’s, and I just panicked and brought her here. We could help pay your bills or buy groceries or anything else you need. I got that job that I was telling you about - the one as a bag boy down at the grocery store.”

“And I’m going to pick up as many extra shifts at the diner as I can until I’m too pregnant to work,” Linda added, talking over Richie. “And we’ll help out around here with anything you need. You’ll barely even know we’re here.”

Wayne ran a hand over the back of his neck and abandoned his coffee on the table.

“Where’s all your stuff?” he asked. “You’re gonna need stuff if you’re moving in.”

“They didn’t give me time to pack when they threw me out,” she replied. “But I still have my house key, so Richie was going to take me back over there to get my things tomorrow when I know they’re both out of the house.”

“And I was gonna head over and grab my own stuff after we talked to you,” Richie continued. “Didn’t want to show up here with a bunch of stuff if we were gonna have to go somewhere else. I figured she could use the fold out I usually sleep on, and I can sleep on the couch.”

“No, you’ll take my room,” Wayne said as he moved to get up from his seat. “I’ll be fine out here. Just gotta straighten it up a little bit for you.”

Before he could leave the room, Wayne was practically knocked over by the force of Linda leaping up to wrap her arms around him in a tight embrace.

“I can’t thank you enough,” she said.

He awkwardly patted her on the back.

“It’s fine,” he replied. “I’d do anything for my brother.”

The next day, Wayne busied himself with getting his room ready for Linda and Richie to move into while they were out collecting Linda’s things. When the couple returned, Linda handed a brown paper bag to Wayne.

“These are for you,” she said with a smile. “A little thank you for all that you’re doing for us.”

Wayne opened the bag, and inside, he found three different coffee mugs - one dark green, one light blue with pink rosettes, and one yellow and white striped.

“I snagged a mug from each of my mother’s entertaining sets. It’ll drive her nuts, and now you have enough mugs for us all to have a cup of coffee. Everybody wins.”

The gift of coffee mugs wasn’t the only way Linda started to improve his life. She actively scolded him about the way he’d been eating and told him that she was going to fix his diet even if it killed her in the process. And so his TV dinners were reserved for the nights when Linda was working the dinner shift at the diner and hadn’t planned for leftovers that Wayne and Richie could easily reheat on their own.

She’d promised that he’d barely even know that they were there, but she made her loving presence known.

October 1965

Wayne ducked out of his shift at the plant several hours early when he got the call that Linda had gone into labor. His brother wanted him there for support, and he wanted to meet his niece or nephew the second they were born, so he was happy to do it. He sat in the waiting room for hours until his brother came to grab him.

“Ready to meet your nephew?” Richie asked him as they entered the hospital room.

Wayne’s attention was immediately drawn to Linda sitting up in bed cradling her tiny son. She was sweaty, and her wavy, dark hair was even messier than it normally was, but he didn’t think he’d ever seen her look happier in the six months he’d known her.

“Do you want to hold him?” Linda asked, never looking away from the baby in her arms.

Wayne nodded and made his way to sit in one of the chairs by her bed. Richie carefully took the baby from his girlfriend’s arms and placed him in Wayne’s awaiting hold.

“Wayne, meet Eddie. Eddie, this is your Uncle Wayne.”

"Hey Eddie," Wayne whispered, as he cradled the newborn. "It's nice to meet you."

"His full name is Edward Wayne Munson," Linda said, causing Wayne's gaze to snap up from the baby in his arms to look over at her.

"Really?"

"Would I lie to you?"

Wayne's heart swelled, and he would have been lying if he said that he didn't get a bit choked up.

Wayne was often awake with Linda during the late night feedings. With Richie still going to school and working extra shifts whenever he could to support his little family, he needed all the sleep he could get, so Linda would take Eddie into the living room whenever he got fussy.

"Are you sure this is alright?" she'd asked the first time she accidentally woke him up.

"Don't worry about it," he reassured her. "I've always been more of a night owl anyway."

So the two would sit together at the tiny kitchen table as Linda fed her son, a light blanket draped over her chest to protect her modesty. Not that Wayne would have ever stared at his brother's girl. He'd come to think of her as the sister he never had, and he was fiercely protective of her. He'd make her tea, and she'd tease him about how nice it was to have more than one mug to share between them.

"If I didn't steal my mother's mugs, we wouldn't be able to have nights like these," she said. "And wouldn't that be a shame?"

"You're never going to let that go, are you?" he asked with a small laugh.

"The handle was chipped, Wayne. You only had one mug, and it wasn't even in good condition."

"I've never needed much."

"Well, you'll never have to drink out of a chipped mug again. I'll make sure of it."

On the nights where Eddie was particularly fussy and wouldn't go back to sleep after being fed and changed, Linda would move over to the couch and pass the baby over to Wayne. Wayne would sit in the worn out rocking chair that he'd picked up at the Goodwill, and he'd slowly rock with him as she made herself comfortable. By the dim light of the lamp on the end table, she'd read aloud from her beat up copies of the Lord of the Rings novels, and Eddie would fall asleep to the daring adventures of hobbits and elves with his uncle’s finger in his grasp.

December 1965

Eddie was only a little bit over two months old for his first Christmas, and he could barely hold his own head up, but Linda still went over the top to make it as special as she could on her limited budget.

They couldn’t afford to get Eddie’s photo professionally taken with the Santa at the big department store in the city. It was just too expensive if she wanted to put any gifts under the modest tree that they were all pretty sure Richie had chopped down illegally. Instead, she placed her son in the Christmas stocking that she’d found at Goodwill and stitched his name onto and had Wayne take pictures of him with his beat up polaroid camera. They didn’t have anyone that they wanted to send the pictures to, so every single one was hung up on the refrigerator until Linda decided it was time to add them to her photo album.

“Next year, I want pictures of him playing in the snow,” Linda said as she looked at the collage of photos on their fridge. “And I’m getting a picture of him with Santa even if I have to force one of you to dress up to make it happen.”

On Christmas morning, the three of them sat in a circle on the floor in front of the tree with baby Eddie laying on his stomach in the middle. They all knew that he was too young to know what was going on, but Linda made a point of setting each of Eddie’s gifts in front of him so he could marvel at the brightly colored comics that she’d wrapped them in. There weren’t many presents under the tree, and they were all for Eddie anyway, so everyone was content to sit there with their morning cups of coffee for as long as the baby wasn’t fussy.

“Oh, before I forget,” Linda said as she popped up from her seat leaning against the sofa. She headed back to the bedroom and returned with a small parcel wrapped up in newsprint. She handed it over to Wayne as she sat back down and pulled her son into her lap.

“I thought we agreed on no gifts?” Wayne asked. “Save all our money to make things special for the kid?”

“It’s not from me,” Linda said as Eddie gripped her finger. “It’s from Eddie, of course, and you can’t expect him to follow our rules. He’s just a baby after all.”

Wayne sighed and carefully unwrapped the gift. Inside the crumpled newspaper was a coffee mug with “World’s Best Uncle” hand-painted on the side along with a bright blue baby handprint of Eddie’s.

“It’s not much,” Richie said. “But we hope it shows even a little bit of how thankful we are for everything you’ve done for us.”

“It’s perfect,” Wayne replied. “Really. Thank you.”

April 1967

For Wayne’s twenty-fifth birthday, he insisted that he didn’t need any gifts, and he didn’t want them to make any sort of a fuss over him.

“You’re being absolutely ridiculous,” Linda told him. “We can’t just skip your birthday.”

“I’m happy with what I have,” he said with a shrug. “We don’t need to bring more stuff into this trailer, and I’d much rather just spend the day playing with Eddie and maybe listen to the ball game on the radio if there is one.”

“That’s fine, I guess. But I’m making you your favorite dinner. And a cake. I’ll maybe even get some ice cream to go with it. And we’re singing to you while wearing party hats made out of newspaper whether you like it or not. It’s been decided, and I will not fight with you on this one, Wayne.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a laugh.

So, on his birthday, Linda made a pot roast slow roasted with carrots and onions and a side of mashed potatoes with extra, extra gravy. For dessert, there was a double chocolate chip cake with vanilla frosting and strawberry ice cream. Wayne didn’t fight about the newspaper hat that Linda made him wear, and he pretended that he didn’t hate being the center of attention when they all sang to him if only because he got to hold Eddie while it was happening. The eighteen month old tried to feed him a handful of cake before shoving it in his own mouth and giggling wildly.

He shouldn’t have been surprised when Linda set a small gift in front of him. He knew what it was without even opening it. Every time she thought of giving him a gift, it was a coffee mug, and he had started giving the same to her. They’d started an almost competition of sorts, seeing who could find the most interesting mug at Goodwill or one of the small thrift stores in the city. This one was beige and had the words Ohio University Grandma printed in green on the side. It might have been the best one yet.

“We have something else for you,” Richie told him after sharing a look with Linda. “A gift we couldn’t really wrap.”

“I expected the mug, but I told you guys that you didn’t have to give me anything.”

“We know, but this is a really important gift,” his brother continued. “We’re giving you your bedroom back.”

“You don’t have to do that. I don’t mind sleeping in the living room. We’ve been over this a hundred times. You need your privacy more than I do, and with the kid, you need the extra space.”

“We know that’s how you feel, Wayne,” Linda said. “But it’s time for you to start sleeping on a real bed again.”

“Which is why we’re moving out,” Richie blurted out.

“You’ve been so good to us these past two years,” Linda continued. “And we are so grateful for everything you’ve done for us and the life you helped us build. It’s because of everything that you did that we know we’re ready to take this step.”

“I finally grew a pair and asked her to marry me, and we found an apartment that’ll be ready for us to move into next month. It’s not going to be easy, but we’re excited. Really excited.”

“Well, I’m really happy for you guys,” Wayne told them. “Truly. But you’re gonna leave the kid with me, right? I’m way too attached to him to let him leave.”

As if agreeing with Wayne, Eddie reached up and pressed a sticky, chocolate-covered hand onto his uncle’s cheek. Wayne dug his fingers into the boy’s side and smiled down at him as he giggled and squirmed.

“I don’t know,” Linda said. “I think I’d miss him too much.” 

She looked at her son as if he was the whole world, and to her, he probably was.

“You’re probably right.”

“But you’ll still see us all the time,” she promised. “We’ll be over here bothering you every chance that we get, and as soon as we’re settled into our place, we’ll be having you over for dinner every single Sunday night. You’ll get sick of us and be longing for some peace and quiet before you know it.”

Wayne didn’t know how to tell them he didn’t need peace and quiet anymore. He’d grown used to coming home from work to see his nephew playing in the living room and laughing as he toddled around the trailer. He was used to Linda singing loudly and off-key along with every song on the radio as she busied herself in the kitchen. He was used to his brother cracking jokes and making loud comments about every single sport he watched on TV. He was used to there being too many people in his tiny trailer, and he didn’t want that to change.

But he was proud of them. So extraordinarily proud of the two of them and the life they were building together. In the past two years, he’d watched them grow from a couple of scared kids into the loving parents that neither of them had ever had themselves. It would hurt to live apart from them, but he knew that it was what was best for all of them.

May 1970

“Munson residence,” Wayne said as he answered his ringing phone.

“Wayne, it’s Linda,” the voice on the other end of the phone replied.

“I was just about to head over to your apartment. Need me to pick up anything on my way?” 

It wasn’t unusual for Linda to ask him to pick up something on the way to dinner. Especially now that she was in college. She’d gotten her GED the year before and was about to finish her first year of schooling to become a teacher. Now that Eddie was a little older and getting ready to start preschool, she was ready to give up her waitressing job and work towards something more stable that fit better with her life as a young mom. Something that would allow her to be home for his bedtime every night.

“Actually, I was calling to ask you for a different sort of favor. I hate to cancel our dinner so last minute, but Richie got called into work for an extra overnight inventory shift at the grocery store, and I have a huge group presentation for one of my classes due tomorrow. Normally, I would give you more notice, but I was wondering if I could maybe drop Eddie off over there for a sleepover? Richie would be able to pick him up first thing in the morning when he gets off work, and this way I can meet up with my classmates to put the finishing touches on our project. I’d owe you a huge favor.”

“You know he’s always welcome over here. Are you heading over now?”

“In a little bit. I still have to pack an overnight bag for the kiddo. One of the girls from my group is going to pick me up, and then we’ll drop Eddie off with you before we head over to the library.”

“Sounds good to me. See you soon.”

While waiting for his sister-in-law and nephew to show up, Wayne looked through the kitchen to see if he actually had anything that he could feed Eddie for dinner. He hadn’t been expecting to have to cook that night, and he usually did his weekly grocery shopping on Mondays before he came home from work. He supposed he could make the kid a TV dinner if it came down to it, and he maybe had a can of soup or two in the cupboard, but neither were up to the standards of the food that Linda normally made him.

But, when Linda arrived with Eddie, she entered the trailer carrying dinner for them.

“I’d already started cooking before Richie got called into work,” she said as she set the lasagna down on the table. “I knew you wouldn’t have had a solid dinner plan, and I wasn’t going to let two of my favorite boys get stuck eating what I’m sure would have been TV dinners.”

“You know me too well.”

Before Linda could respond, Eddie took a running leap at his uncle who caught him easily.

“Uncle Wayne!” Eddie said as he clung to his uncle’s chest. “We get to have a sleepover! And mama said I can stay up an extra half hour ‘cause it’s a special occasion!”

“She did? Well, that’s a good thing because I was thinking we could have a campout in the living room, and maybe if it’s okay with your mama, we could even make some hot chocolate.”

Eddie shifted in Wayne’s arms to face his mom and fixed her with his best pleading gaze, all puppy dog eyes and pouty bottom lip. The kid had them all wrapped around his little finger, and he knew it.

“How could I say no to this precious face? It’s fine with me,” Linda said with a small laugh at her son’s excitement at her answer.

Wayne set Eddie down on the counter next to the sink.

“Why don’t you wash your hands while I talk to your mama, and then you and I will have some dinner, okay?”

Eddie nodded vigorously and turned on the water, so Wayne turned his attention back to Linda.

“Alright, so bedtime is anywhere between seven thirty and eight tonight. He’s gonna be home with Richie all day tomorrow, and I know it’s going to be a lazy sleepy day anyway, so he’ll get plenty of rest if he doesn’t sleep enough tonight. His pajamas and clothes for tomorrow are in his backpack, but if you don’t have him dressed before he gets picked up, that’s fine, too. If he wants a bedtime story, Peter Pan is his favorite right now, and he usually falls asleep around the second chapter. That’s somewhere in his bag with Mister Lion. I gave him a bath earlier, so you don't need to worry about that, but make sure he brushes his teeth. He will try to convince you that he doesn’t need to, but he wants to be just like his Uncle Wayne, so if you brush your teeth when it’s time for him to, he shouldn’t put up too much of a fight. I don’t think I’m forgetting anything, but it’s not like you’ve never watched him before. You know how to handle my little hellraiser better than anyone.”

She looked over towards her son who was now laying with his stomach flat against the counter as he clapped his hands under the running water repeatedly trying to make the biggest splash he possibly could. She moved to turn off the sink before sitting her son upright on the counter and drying his hands off with the dish towel.

“Were you making a mess of the kitchen, you little stinker?” she teased as she skittered her fingers across her son’s belly.

“No,” he replied through his giggles as he curled in on himself. She stopped tickling him and ruffled his messy curls that matched her own.

“You be good for your Uncle Wayne, okay? Daddy will be here to pick you up first thing in the morning. Now give mama big hugs and kisses.”

Eddie stood up on the counter and flung his arms around Linda’s neck. Once she’d wrapped her arms around the boy, he moved his hands to squish her cheeks as he smothered her with as many kisses as he could give.

“I love you so much, Eddie Bear,” she told him, laughing as he kissed one of her eyes.

“I love you more,” he replied.

“And I love you most.”

She gave him one last big squeeze and kissed his forehead before setting him down on the ground.

“Alright, I’ve kept Sandy waiting out in the car long enough. Don’t have too much fun without me!”

Wayne and Eddie had a relatively easy night together. They ate dinner, and Eddie didn’t fuss when Wayne had to wash the sauce off of his face afterwards. He sat at the kitchen table drawing pictures with the crayons and notebook paper they kept at the trailer for him while his uncle cleaned up the kitchen, and he narrated all of his art as he drew. They had the hot chocolate that Wayne promised with extra marshmallows, and there were no complaints about brushing teeth since Wayne was brushing his teeth, too. Wayne set up the foldout bed in the living room with an extra set of sheets and the fuzzy yellow blanket that was Eddie’s favorite. They both changed into their pajamas, and then they read four chapters of Peter Pan before Eddie fell asleep on the couch curled up against his uncle’s side with his fingers threaded through Mister Lion’s mane. Wayne carefully moved the sleeping boy to the bed and placed a kiss on his forehead. He fell asleep on the couch shortly after.

Wayne always woke up at five without an alarm clock no matter what time he went to bed the night before. It was both a blessing and a curse. Being careful to keep quiet enough that he wouldn’t wake Eddie, he made his way to the bathroom to take a quick shower before his brother got there. He didn’t know when his brother would be there, so he wanted to be ready to head to the plant early just in case he’d be racing out the door.

When he was finished getting ready, he headed into the kitchen where he found a very sleepy looking Eddie with the fuzzy, yellow blanket wrapped around his shoulders. He was dragging Mister Lion by his tail behind him.

"What are you doing up, Eds? Did I wake you?" he asked.

"Bad dream," Eddie replied, sniffling a little. “‘Mnot scared, but Mister Lion needed a hug.”

Wayne scooped Eddie up, and the boy immediately wrapped his arms around his uncle’s neck.

“I got ya, buddy,” he said as he rubbed the boy’s back. “I got ya.”

Wayne continued to hold Eddie as he moved around the kitchen and started his morning coffee. Once he’d poured himself a cup, he headed to sit down on the couch.

“Why don’t you try to get a little more sleep, Eds?” he suggested. “I’ll start making breakfast after I finish my coffee, and then I’ll get you up, okay?”

Eddie nodded a little and moved to curl up next to his uncle on the couch not wanting to stray too far from the comfort that he’d found.

By the time Wayne had finished his coffee and used the little he had left in his kitchen to make some scrambled eggs and toast for the boy, it was close to seven. He had to be at the plant by seven thirty, so he was going to have to call in sick if his brother didn’t show up soon.

Eddie was not a morning person, so it took a few minutes for Wayne to get him up and seated at the table, and when he glanced at the clock on his wall, he knew he wasn’t going to make it to work on time.

“Mr. O’Grady? It’s Wayne Munson,” he started when his boss at the plant finally answered the phone. “I’m gonna be a little late for my shift. I’m watching my nephew. My brother was supposed to pick him up by now, but I’ve still got the kid, and I can’t leave him here alone.”

“It’s fine, Munson,” his boss answered. “In the ten years you’ve worked here, you’ve never taken a vacation, and the only times you’ve ever called off were when your nephew was born and when he broke his wrist last year. Take the day to spend with the kid. Sullivan has been asking for more hours anyway, and I can call him in to cover for you this time.”

“Thanks, Mr. O’Grady,” he said as he lunged to take the ketchup bottle away from Eddie before he could empty the entire thing onto his plate. “I really appreciate it.”

Wayne poured himself another cup of coffee and sat down across from Eddie who was more interested in eating ketchup than the eggs on his plate. He figured that inventory took a little bit longer than expected. The grocery store opened at nine, so they’d have to be done by then, and if his brother wasn’t at the trailer by nine thirty, he’d start calling their apartment.

Nine thirty came and went, and the phone call to Richie and Linda’s apartment went unanswered. The same happened every other time he called between then and noon. Wayne was starting to get worried, but he was trying his best not to let it show. His focus was on Eddie who didn’t seem to mind that he got to spend extra time there.

Finally, when Wayne was getting ready to set the table with the TV dinners that he’d ended up making for their lunch, someone answered the phone at the apartment.

“Hello?”

“Is everything okay over there?” Wayne asked, skipping the pleasantries. “I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all morning.”

“Everything’s fine. I was sleeping,” Richie replied. “What time is it?”

“For the love of god, Richie.” Wayne lowered his voice and glanced into the living room to make sure Eddie wasn’t paying attention to him before he continued. “I was starting to think something bad had happened. I called you at least a dozen times. Scared the shit outta me.”

“I’m sorry. I came home from work and passed out immediately. Didn’t hear the phone until just now.”

“But you were supposed to pick up Eddie before you went home.”

“I stopped on the way to change my clothes. Smelled like sweat and pickle juice after someone dropped a box and the shit splattered everywhere. I figured Linda changed her mind and was picking him up since she wasn’t home when I got here.”

“Well, she definitely didn’t come here.”

“She had a group presentation due today, and she was really hounding the other girls to make sure it was perfect. She probably just caught the bus and headed over to campus early. Do you want me to come over and get Eddie?”

“Don’t worry about it. You should get some more sleep. One of you can come and grab him after Linda gets home from class.”

“Are you sure? I know he can be a handful.”

“We’re fine. I’ll take him to the park or something, and he can do my grocery shopping with me. Besides, I just made him lunch, and I kinda like having him around.”

“You wanna keep him?” Richie asked with a laugh.

“Don’t tempt me,” Wayne responded with a laugh of his own. “But I don’t think Linda would be too happy about it.”

“You’re probably right. We’ll give you a call when we’re on our way to get him, okay? Most likely right around dinner time?”

“Sounds good to me.”

After lunch, Wayne finally got Eddie dressed and took him to the playground across town. Since they’d done nothing but sit around the trailer all morning, the kid had a lot of energy to burn, and he chose to burn it by giving his uncle a heart attack every time he went to leap off of something he probably shouldn’t have climbed in the first place. Eventually, he got tired of scaring years off of his uncle’s life, and Wayne agreed to push him on the swings as long as he promised not to jump off of those, too.

Once he’d successfully tired out the kid, Wayne loaded Eddie into his truck and headed to the grocery store. His usual get in, get what he needs, and get out trip took a lot longer than normal with his nephew riding in the cart, but debating about breakfast cereal and lunch meat with a kid who wasn’t even going to be eating them was wildly entertaining. In the end, he only ended up with three things that Eddie had wanted in his cart, and he was taking that as a win.

Standing in the checkout line, Wayne couldn’t help but overhear the conversation between the two housewives behind him. He wasn’t one to pay attention to town gossip, but he couldn’t ignore them.

“I’m sure you’ve heard about the accident last night,” the first woman said.

“News travels fast in a small town like Hawkins,” the second replied. “It’s a shame really. Those poor girls.”

“Oh, I know. I wonder if they’ve been able to find their families by now. Eleanor said that they weren’t sure who to call.”

“How did Eleanor get so much information about this anyway? It wasn’t in any of the papers today.”

“Her husband was on duty, and you know he went home and told her every detail. The man can’t keep a secret to save his life.”

“Can you blame him? A drunk driver crashing into a car full of girls leaving the community college library is probably the most exciting thing he’s ever seen working around here. Not that a tragedy is exciting mind you. It’s just more interesting to talk about than the occasional traffic violation.”

Wayne almost dropped the milk that he was holding on the ground. Their conversation meant nothing to him. To him, or his brother, or the little boy who was currently fighting to stay awake in his shopping cart. The fact that no one had seen Linda since last night was merely a coincidence. She was probably at home with Richie right now telling him all about how her presentation went and getting ready to pick up her son. She had to be.

But, when Wayne pulled up to his trailer to find his brother sitting on his front step looking more scared and alone than he had when he came to tell him that Linda was pregnant, he knew that wasn’t the case.

Wayne held Eddie throughout the funeral. Richie was an absolute wreck and could barely hold himself together let alone take care of his son. But he had his older brother to help pick up the pieces, and that was a comfort in such an upsetting time.

Wayne hadn’t expected such a large turnout for the funeral. With the way she lit up every room she entered, the fact that she had had an effect on so many people in her short twenty one years shouldn’t have been a huge surprise. There were groups of girls from all of Linda’s classes, and the diner had closed for the day because all of the waitresses and cooks wanted to be there. There were high school friends who had just arrived home from college, and there were families from their apartment building. All there to pay their respects. The only notable absence was Linda’s own parents. Not that anyone had really expected them to show up anyway. They hadn’t tried to contact her at all in the time since they’d kicked her out, and Wayne would have forced them to leave if they’d tried to show their faces.

After the services, Wayne took Eddie straight back to the apartment. He and Richie had discussed it beforehand, and they figured that the whole situation would be too overwhelming for him. They’d explained to him what had happened in a way that was simple enough for a child to understand, but the boy was still so young and confused about why his mother wasn’t coming home. He didn’t need to be surrounded by a bunch of people he didn’t know talking about what a shame it was that his mother was gone.

So, while his brother stayed behind to receive condolences, Wayne reheated one of the many casseroles people had dropped off at the apartment for them, gave Eddie a bath, and put him to bed. But throughout it all, he couldn’t help but notice that his usually bright and talkative nephew was the most quiet and reserved he’d ever been since he learned how to talk.

When Richie finally came home, he didn’t say anything. Just grabbed the casserole dish that Wayne had left on the counter along with a fork and sat down on the sofa where Wayne was pretending he cared about whatever was on TV.

Without saying anything, Wayne got up and grabbed a drink for his brother. Nothing fancy. Just a glass of the iced tea from the fridge. But there was an unspoken meaning behind it that they both could feel. That Wayne was always going to take care of them and get them what they needed. No matter what, he would always be there.

“Thanks,” Richie said as he accepted the glass. “For everything.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Wayne replied. “It’s what I’m here for.”

August 1970

Sunday dinners had remained the norm for the three Munson men, but Linda’s absence was always in the forefront of their minds. Not just because she was the best cook out of the three, but because she was the one who really got them to talk to each other. Wayne and Richie were never big talkers, and she had bridged their gap in communication.

And maybe that was why Wayne had accepted the Sunday overtime shifts that were offered to him. He hated missing the time with his family, but he hated the awkward silences more.

After not attending Sunday dinner for nearly a month, he figured that it was time to start going back. Eddie was starting school soon, and he felt guilty for the time he was missing with the kid. He felt even more guilty once he saw the state of their apartment.

He’d let himself in like he normally did, and the first thing he noticed was his brother passed out on the couch. There were empty beer cans strewn across the floor around him, and the room was in complete disarray. The kitchen wasn’t any better. The sink was overflowing with dirty dishes, and the trashcan was filled with enough beer cans to show that this probably wasn’t the first time this had happened.

He made his way back to Eddie’s room since the kid was nowhere to be found in the front of the apartment, and he found his nephew happily playing alone. It wasn’t exactly a comforting sight though. While the room was in relatively decent shape, the laundry hamper was overflowing to the point where there were small piles of clothes surrounding it, and there was a distinct odor hanging in the air. But the worst part was Eddie himself. The boy looked dirty. This definitely wasn’t the first day that he’d worn those clothes, and his hair was a tangled mess that obviously hadn’t been washed anytime recently.

“How’s it goin’, Eds?” Wayne asked, finally alerting his nephew to his presence.

“Uncle Wayne!” Eddie leaped up from his spot on the floor to give his uncle a hug.

As Wayne picked up the boy, he was hit with another wave of that stench, and his suspicions about said stench coming from Eddie were confirmed.

“So, when was the last time you had a bath?” he asked.

“We don’t have to do that anymore.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know,” Eddie said with a little shrug.

“And I’m guessing you’d have the same answer if I asked why the kitchen isn’t clean?”

“Yep.”

“And why the laundry isn’t done?”

“Yep.”

“Do you know anything?” Wayne teased.

“I know we’re eating TV dinners tonight!” Eddie said, excited that he could tell his uncle something.

“And how do you know that?”

“‘Cause we eat ‘em every night. Daddy puts ‘em on a plate so I won’t know, but he never throws out the box cause he’s too busy sleeping on the couch.”

“Does he do that a lot? Sleep on the couch like that, I mean?”

“Yeah. He’s no good at bedtime anymore.”

Wayne couldn’t tell if he was more heartbroken for his nephew or angry at his brother at that moment. All he knew was that he needed to do something.

“How do you feel about coming over for a sleepover?” Wayne asked. “We haven’t had one of those in awhile, and I miss hanging out with my favorite kid.”

Eddie’s response was an enthusiastic yes, so Wayne set him back down.

“I’m gonna go talk to your daddy, and then we’ll get your stuff ready to go, okay?”

“Okay!”

Part of Wayne wanted to be thankful that at least Eddie still seemed happy. He was okay on the inside even if it was clear that his dad had dropped the ball. But a much larger part of him was consumed by his anger. Angry at his brother for letting his home get this messy. Angry at his brother for clearly not taking care of his child. Angry at his brother for picking up their father’s bad habits.

But, most of all, Wayne was angry at himself for avoiding the awkward silences. If he’d kept going over for Sunday dinners, he would have caught the warning signs sooner. He could have kept things from getting this bad. He could have done something to help, and he was going to live with the guilt of not helping sooner for a very long time.

When Richie didn’t respond to his name or being shaken, Wayne grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen and dumped it over his brother’s head.

“What the hell, Wayne?” Richie sputtered as he came to and glared up at his brother.

“Don’t what the hell me,” Wayne replied. He was trying to keep his volume down so Eddie wouldn’t hear them. “It’s barely five o’clock on a Sunday, and you were passed out drunk.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal. I shouldn’t have to tell you that with the way we grew up. Do you really want to put your kid through that?”

“I’m not turning into dad.” Richie sat up and laid his head in his hands. “I will never be anything like that man. I’m just not doing the best right now, okay? After everything, I lost my job. Missed too many shifts. It all spiraled from there. I just need some time to get back on my feet so we don’t lose the apartment.”

“You can’t take time when you’ve got Eddie to think about,” Wayne said as he took a seat next to his brother. “I’m bringing him home with me. This isn’t good for him, and you know it.”

“You can’t take my kid away from me.”

“The boy stinks, and I’m guessing he barely has any clean clothes left from what I saw in his room. This place is a wreck, and you don’t seem to care because you’re too busy drinking. He told me all you do is sleep on the couch like you were when I got here.”

Wayne ran a hand over the back of his neck. He hated putting this out there, but he had to open his brother’s eyes, and he didn’t see any other way.

“He starts preschool next week, Richie. If he gets there looking and smelling the way he does now or tells anyone anything about the way you’re living, someone is going to come here and take him away from you. He needs a safe and stable living environment, and this isn’t one right now. So you can either let him come with me while you pull yourself together, and you can still come and see him everyday. Or you can keep living like this, and you could wind up losing him for good. The choice is yours, and one of those options seems a lot better than the other to me.”

“Shit.”

Richie kicked the coffee table in frustration and sent empty beer cans flying.

“So, I can come see him everyday?” he asked after a moment.

“Whenever you want. I promise.”

“Okay . . . I’m not really turning into dad, am I?”

“No. I just think you went through some shit that you’re way too young for, and it made you make some bad choices. You’ve at least acknowledged it, so you’re doing better than he ever did.”

Wayne didn’t wait for a response from his brother. He just grabbed a garbage bag from the cabinet under the sink and headed back to Eddie’s room where he started shoving all of the dirty clothes into the bag.

“You can’t throw away my clothes,” Eddie pouted. “I need those.”

“I’m not throwing them away. I’m gonna do your laundry. Your daddy is awake, so why don’t you go talk to him while I get your stuff ready to go?”

Once Eddie’s clothes were taken care of, Wayne moved around the room grabbing whatever he saw that he thought his nephew would maybe want at his house and loading it into the duffle bag he found under the bed. He took the dinosaurs and toy cars that Eddie had been playing with when he came in. He took the stack of books and photo albums that were sitting on the tiny nightstand by his bed. He even grabbed the toy guitar that he was sure he was going to regret bringing with him. And, of course, he grabbed Mister Lion.

After a quick trip into the bathroom to grab Eddie’s toothbrush and other toiletries, he headed back into the living room where Eddie was giving his dad a goodbye hug.

“You be extra good for your uncle, okay?” Richie said as he pulled away from his son. “And I’ll be over to see you every day.”

“You promise?” Eddie asked.

“Cross my heart.”

Once they were back at the trailer, the first thing Wayne did was give Eddie a bath.

“I thought I didn’t need to do this anymore,” Eddie pouted as his uncle worked the shampoo into his hair.

“I’m gonna be honest with you, Eds,” Wayne replied. “You smell, and I can’t have you stinking up my trailer. So, it’s either you take a bath on a regular basis, or you’re sleeping on the porch.”

Eddie looked up at his uncle with wide eyes.

“You’d make me sleep on the porch?

“Never. Which is why we need to get you cleaned up.”

Getting Eddie bathed was the easy part. Tackling the tangled mess of his hair was an entirely different beast. Wayne tried to be as careful as possible as he worked through the knots, but Eddie was especially tender-headed, and his hair was a mess from the neglect, so there were plenty of complaints and tears.

“Mama never made it hurt,” Eddie said between his sniffles.

“I’m sorry, Eds,” Wayne replied. “I’m being as gentle as I can.”

“I miss her.”

“I know. Me, too.”

Wayne made grilled cheese and tomato soup for their dinner. It wasn’t anything special, but it was better than a TV dinner, and he made himself a promise that he’d never feed his nephew one of those for dinner ever again if he could help it. And, after the table was cleared and the dishes were done, he put the kettle on the stove to start heating up some water to make tea for himself and hot chocolate for Eddie.

When Wayne’s mug collection started to outgrow the small cabinet shelf, he’d moved most of them into the living room to put on display, but his favorites were kept in the kitchen for easy use. He pulled out the mug from Eddie’s first Christmas for himself, and then he grabbed Linda’s favorite mug - the light blue one with the pink rosettes - for Eddie. He carefully carried the mugs over to the coffee table before going through the bag of Eddie’s things to find the book he was looking for.

“Hey, Eddie, can you come over here?” he called over to his nephew as he sat down on the couch.

Eddie abandoned his crayons and the picture he was drawing to climb onto the couch with his uncle.

“You were too little to remember it, but did your mama and daddy ever tell you that you all lived here with me when you were a baby?”

“We did?”

“You did. The three of you shared my bedroom, and I slept out here. Whenever you were up at night, your mama would come sit in the kitchen, and we’d have tea together while she fed you. And then, when you still wouldn’t go back to sleep, she’d hand you over to me. We’d sit over here, and she’d read her favorite book to you until you fell asleep in my arms.”

Wayne grabbed the mugs off of the table and passed Eddie’s to him before picking up the copy of The Hobbit that he’d set aside.

“I know you miss your mama, and I know this isn’t the same as having her here, but this is a little piece of her that I can share with you.”

Eddie curled up against his uncle, and they sipped their drinks as Wayne started to read Linda’s most favorite adventure out loud to her son. It wasn’t much, but it was all Wayne could do to make Eddie’s first night in his trailer a little bit easier.

December 1970

Richie had made good on his promise to come and visit every day for the first two months that Eddie was staying with Wayne. But right around Halloween, he started missing days. And then multiple days in a row. It broke Wayne’s heart every time he saw Eddie realize that his dad had forgotten about him again, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. Richie had either stopped answering his phone at the apartment, or he was never home no matter what time of day Wayne called. Nor did he answer the door any of the times Wayne dropped by to check on him.

On Christmas Eve, Wayne realized that his brother hadn’t been over to see them since Thanksgiving, and he wasn’t sure if they’d be seeing him at all the next day. Wayne wasn’t going to let his brother’s screw ups ruin the holiday for Eddie though. It was going to be hard enough on him to spend his first Christmas without his mom. He didn’t want the whole day to be miserable.

Wayne had hidden all of Eddie’s gifts from Santa in the cabinet over the fridge - the only cabinet that Eddie hadn’t found a way to climb to yet - and he had gotten a small tree to prop up in the corner. It wasn’t very impressive, but Eddie was all smiles when he got to put the star on top, and that was good enough for him. He’d even picked up everything he needed to make cinnamon french toast for breakfast and a roast for Christmas dinner. It was shaping up to be a fairly decent holiday.

But, when he asked Eddie if he was excited for Santa to visit them that night, he was met with frustrated tears instead of the happiness he’d expected. Wayne stopped what he was doing and went over to where Eddie was sitting on the couch. The boy had tears streaming down his cheeks, and his tiny hands were balled into tight fists.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Wayne asked as he knelt down to get on Eddie’s level.

“I forgot.”

“Forgot what?”

“I forgot your present, and now it’s too late.”

“It’s okay. You don’t need to get me anything. I promise.”

“No, I gotta,” Eddie said as he wiped at his tears. “Mama said it wasn’t special if you didn’t get a mug, and I wanted it to be special.”

Wayne moved to sit on the couch and scooped Eddie up in his arms, allowing the boy to cry into his shoulder and get his feelings out.

“I was going to ask daddy to take me, but he’s never here.”

Wayne could pinpoint a lot of things about his brother that had angered him lately, but he didn’t know if he could ever forgive him for hurting Eddie like this. Still, he didn’t want his nephew to end up hating his dad. When Richie pulled it together, they’d be a family again, and he didn’t want moments like this to sour that.

“It’s my fault, Eds,” Wayne lied as he rubbed Eddie’s back in an attempt to soothe him. “Your daddy gave me some money so you could buy me a Christmas gift and told me that I should take you, and I got so busy with work that I just forgot about it. But if we leave right now, I bet we can make it to the Goodwill in time for you to pick out something real special.”

The opportunity to go present shopping cheered Eddie up immediately, and before Wayne knew it, the boy was pulling at his arm to get him to help grab his coat and shoes.

The Goodwill was still open when they got there, and nobody was inside except for the very bored looking teenager running the cash register.

“Now, you go pick something out, and I’ll wait here until after you’ve paid so whatever you pick can be a surprise,” Wayne said as he handed Eddie a few dollars.

Eddie took the money and wandered off towards where the homegoods were kept, and Wayne busied himself by looking at a rack of kids clothes near the front of the store. He wasn’t necessarily planning on buying anything, but if he could maybe find something decent that would fit Eddie, he might as well look. He only turned his attention back to the checkout counter when he heard his nephew’s voice.

“Excuse me,” Eddie said as he reached up to set his purchase on the counter. The counter was taller than he was, so he had to stretch just a little bit. “I want to buy this as a Christmas gift for my uncle, please. I have my own money and everything.”

“Well, aren’t you the cutest,” the girl working the cash register said as she picked up his mug. “Are you sure this is the one you want to get him though?”

“Yes, it’s the best one.”

“Okay, that’ll be one dollar. And for an extra quarter, I can even put it in one of these fancy gift bags for you if you’d like.”

“Yes, please.” Eddie set his money on the counter and waited as the girl got his change and wrapped his purchase.

“Here you go, sweetie,” the girl said as she handed Eddie his things.

“Thank you! Merry Christmas!”

Eddie raced back over to his uncle, and it was apparent that the tears from earlier were long forgotten.

When Wayne unwrapped his new “Virginia is for Lovers” mug in front of the tree on Christmas morning, he couldn’t contain his laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Eddie asked.

“It’s nothing Eds. I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

“Did I pick a good one then?”

“You picked the best one. I love it.”

And he did. Not just because it was Eddie that gave it to him, but because he knew it was the exact mug Linda would have chosen if she was there.

June 1973

Wayne and Eddie had settled into a routine together. During the school year, Wayne put Eddie on the bus before heading to work, and then he picked him up from after school care on the way home. Wayne made them dinner while Eddie did whatever homework he had to do, and then it was bathtime and books before bed. There wasn’t really enough room for two beds in Wayne’s bedroom, but he’d rearranged the furniture enough that they could just barely fit the fold out bed in his room when Eddie had expressed that he didn’t like sleeping out in the living room alone.

The only difference during the summer was that Eddie went to daycare instead of school. It was a little too expensive, but Wayne was doing his best to make it work.

Richie’s visits were few and far between at this point. They were lucky if he came to visit Eddie once a month, but it was usually a longer absence than that. They didn’t even have a way to contact him when he was gone anymore because he’d lost the apartment, and the only reason they knew he lost the apartment was because he’d told Wayne that if there was anything of Eddie’s still there, he should probably get it before the landlord changed the locks. When Wayne had showed up to grab the rest of Eddie’s toys and books, he’d grabbed the rest of the photo albums and a few of Linda’s things that were still around that he thought Eddie might like to have one day. Richie was supposed to give them his new address and phone number once he’d settled into a new place, but that had been nearly a year ago, and Wayne wasn’t holding his breath. His brother had broken so many promises since Eddie had moved in with Wayne, that he had a hard time believing anything his brother said.

So, when Richie showed up that morning and said that he wanted to take Eddie for the whole day, Wayne couldn’t have been more surprised. Even when Richie did remember to show up, he never spent the whole day with his own kid. But his brother said he had a new job, and he wanted to celebrate with his son. Wayne was reluctant to let it happen, but he knew the kid missed his dad, and if Richie wanted to step up, it would at least give him a chance to get some work done around the trailer without any distractions.

But when they came back around dinner time, Wayne regretted letting them go alone. Physically, Eddie was fine, but they returned in a different car than the one they’d left in. A much nicer car that Wayne knew his brother wouldn’t have been able to afford. He’d heard some rumors about cars getting stolen around Hawkins and getting brought to a chop shop somewhere outside of the town, but he hadn’t given it much thought since no one wanted to steal a car from someone who lived in a trailer park.

“Uncle Wayne!” Eddie said as he climbed out the car and ran to his uncle. “We had the best day!”

“You did?”

“Yeah! First, we went to the arcade, and then we got hot dogs, and after that, dad showed me how I can get any car I want for free!”

“Oh really?” Wayne glanced over at his brother who was leaning against the hood of what Eddie had all but confirmed was definitely a stolen car. “That sounds like a really great day, Eds. Why don’t you go inside and get washed up for dinner while your dad and I have a little chat, okay?”

Wayne waited until Eddie was out of earshot before he walked over to his brother.

“Seriously, Richie? Is that what your new job is? Stealing cars?”

“Lighten up. Do you know how much money I get for each car I bring in? I might actually be able to afford a decent apartment again, and I can quit sleeping on people’s couches. Eddie could even come stay with me.”

“Oh yeah. Sure. Being enmeshed in illegal activities is exactly what every seven year old needs. Do you even hear yourself?”

“Don’t tell me how to raise my son, Wayne. I think I know what I’m doing here.”

“Well, that’s rich coming from you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Since when are you the one raising him, Richie? The last time I checked, we haven’t seen you since March.”

“He’s still my son.”

“Then act like it. Because I’m the one who gets him to and from school and makes sure he gets his homework done. I’m the one who makes sure that he’s fed and clothed and has a roof over his head. I’m the one that he cries out for whenever he has a bad dream or he’s sick. And I’m the one who comforts him and distracts him every time you say you’ll be here and then don’t show up because you’re too drunk or you overslept or just forgot and didn’t care. And I am sick of you coming back around for a day and lying to him about how you’re going to be around more often and promising to spend more time with him because every time you break that promise, his heart breaks all over again. He deserves better than that, and you know it.”

“Shut up.”

“You can’t just tell me to shut up when you don’t want to hear the truth, and frankly, I’ve stayed quiet long enough. This is something you should have heard a long time ago.”

“I said shut up.”

“If she could see the way that you’re treating her boy, Linda would be so ashamed of you right now.”

“Fuck you!”

Richie launched up from where he was leaning on the car to post up to his brother. For a minute, Wayne was convinced that Richie was going to take a swing at him from the anger burning in his eyes, but nothing happened.

“You want me to be a better dad? Fine. I’ll be a better dad,” he spat as he stormed toward the trailer door. “We don’t need any help from you anymore.”

Before Wayne knew it, his brother was marching out of the trailer pulling a very confused looking Eddie behind him.

“Say goodbye to your uncle, Eddie,” Richie said as he opened his car door. “You’re not going to be seeing him for a while.”

“Richie, be reasonable.”

“You can’t have it both ways, Wayne. Either I’m the dad that you want me to be, or I leave him here with you. So I’m taking my son, and we’re leaving because I will not stand here and listen to you insult me. And if I ever hear Linda’s name leave your mouth again, that’ll be the last time you ever speak.”

Richie climbed into the car and slammed his door shut. Once Eddie was inside with him, he sped away and out of the trailer park leaving Wayne to spend the night alone for the first time in years.

February 1976

It was after midnight when Wayne got the call. He'd been asleep for a few hours at that point, and he'd been woken up by the phone. At first, he'd tried to ignore the call, but the person on the other end of the line was persistent, so the phone just kept ringing. He stumbled out of his bedroom and into the kitchen to grab the phone.

“Hello?” Wayne answered the phone, his voice hoarse from barely being awake.

“Have we reached Wayne Munson?”

“Speaking.”

“Mr. Munson, this is Chief Carver with the Hawkins police department. We currently have your brother in custody down at the station. His bail hasn’t been set just yet, and he declined his one phone call, but I’m calling to inform you that we also have your nephew here. He was asleep in the back of the car when my officers picked up your brother, and we’ve been told that you’re the only other family the boy has. We were hoping to place the child in your care as we’d rather contact family than anyone else in situations like these.”

“I can be there in fifteen minutes.”

Wayne didn’t need to hear anything else before he was putting on real pants and racing down to the station. He’d barely seen his brother and nephew since their fight as Richie had cut him out of their lives. He only saw them in passing, but Richie would quickly leave whatever public space they were in when he noticed Wayne was there, too. And even if he had a phone number, he doubted Richie would take his calls. He didn’t want to say that he was afraid of what he’d find when he got there, but he wasn’t expecting anything good.

“I got a call from the chief about my brother,” Wayne said as he walked up to the officer sitting behind the front desk. “I’m supposed to be picking up my nephew.”

“Wayne Munson, right?” the officer asked. “I’ll take you back to see your nephew shortly. Just gotta go over some official business first. You know how it is. Now, your brother will be staying here overnight because we won’t be able to get him arraigned until morning.”

“What is he facing in the way of charges?”

“Well, for starters, he was already wanted for multiple counts of grand theft auto and the possession and selling of stolen merchandise. Tonight, he was picked up on a DUI with multiple traffic violations, expired plates, and child endangerment to sweeten the deal. There was also a startling amount of liquor in the car with him. When he was pulled over, he attempted to assault an officer, and he resisted arrest. We don’t expect you to stay here until he’s arraigned, so we can call you and let you know what his bail is set at after the hearing occurs.”

“Don’t bother,” Wayne replied. “I won’t be posting his bail. All I care about is my nephew. Is he okay?”

“As far as we can tell, the boy is fine. A little shaken up, but okay. He was asleep in the backseat when the car was pulled over, and he only woke up when your brother started to get belligerent. We have reason to believe they were living out of the car from the sheer amount of stuff loaded into the trunk and backseat. Because the car was one of the ones he’s accused of stealing, everything inside it was admitted into evidence. However, we’re hoping someone will be able to sort through it after the weekend, so we can set aside anything that belongs to the boy and get it to you then.”

“Can I see him now? I just want to take him home.”

Finally, the officer led him back to the station’s break room where he found Eddie sitting on the sofa with his knees hugged to his chest.

“Alright, Eddie,” the officer said. “Your uncle is here to take you home.”

Eddie got up from the sofa and headed over towards where they were standing without saying a word. It was the quietest that Wayne had ever seen the boy other than when he was sleeping, and he hated it more than he could say.

Eddie stayed quiet the entire way back to the trailer despite Wayne asking him how he was doing, telling him he missed him, and just trying to get even the smallest bit of a conversation going. He tried not to read too much into it. It had most likely been an overwhelming night for him so far, and he was probably worn out.

It was only once they were back at the trailer that Wayne realized he didn’t have any pajamas or extra clothes for Eddie. He still had most of the clothes that had been left behind when his brother had taken the boy back, but he’d grown in the three years since he’d worn any of that stuff, so Wayne doubted he’d be comfortable in any of them. He grabbed one of his own t-shirts out of the basket of clean laundry he’d neglected to put away and offered it to Eddie.

“I know it’s not pajamas, but you might be more comfortable sleeping in this.”

“I’m fine,” Eddie replied, not bothering to take the shirt. “I sleep like this most of the time.”

The boy moved to sit on the edge of the couch, and Wayne set the shirt down on the coffee table just in case Eddie ended up changing his mind.

“How long do I get to stay here?” Eddie asked.

“What do you mean?”

“Am I gonna have to go stay somewhere else?”

“No, Eds. You’re here with me for good.” Even if Richie didn’t end up in jail for any of the charges he was facing, Wayne was never letting Eddie out of his sight again. Even if that meant spending what little money he had on a custody battle for his nephew’s wellbeing.

Wayne noted the confused look on Eddie’s face at his response, but he didn’t press the issue further. It had already been a long night for the both of them, and he was surprised that Eddie wasn’t already passed out.

“I’ve still got all of your stuff here from before, so I figure we can go through it tomorrow. See if any of your clothes might still fit or if there are any toys you might still want, and then we can go to the Goodwill and maybe get you some new things to replace what doesn’t work anymore.”

“You kept my stuff?”

“Of course, I did. Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know,” Eddie said as he looked down at his shoes. “Figured you wouldn’t want my stuff here either.”

It was the either that struck him. How Eddie was so quiet when he said it as if he didn’t want to voice his fears out loud. Wayne moved to sit next to Eddie on the couch.

“What do you mean?” he asked gently.

“Nothing.”

“It’s not nothing, Eds. You’re upset, and I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

Eddie refused to look at his uncle, continuing to stare at the ground instead.

“Dad said you didn’t want me here anymore. That there wasn’t space for me, so I had to go back with him.”

Wayne thought that being punched in the chest would have been less painful than hearing that. As much as he wanted to sit there and call his brother a liar along with a slew of much harsher names, he couldn’t let himself do that. Eddie had already been through so much that night, and he wasn’t going to be responsible for worsening the boy’s opinion of his own dad. Instead, he placed a comforting hand on Eddie’s shoulder.

“That couldn’t be further from the truth. There was not a day that went by that I didn’t wish you were here with me. Your dad and I had just had a fight, and it made more sense for you to be with him than it did for you to stay here. That’s all it was.”

Wayne got up from the sofa and moved over to where the old foldout bed was pushed into the corner. Behind it was a small, wooden chest. He picked up the chest and set it back down in front of Eddie. He encouraged Eddie to open it, and when the boy did, the first thing he saw was his old stuffed lion. He pulled the plushie out and hugged it to his chest before looking back to find many more of his childhood play things. Toy cars, dinosaurs, and little army men mixed in with crayon stumps, notebooks filled with his drawings, and his mother’s well-loved copies of Tolkien’s epic fantasy. The boy looked up at his uncle with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry if my mistakes ever made you feel unwanted,” Wayne started, “because the truth is that I would still want you here and have the space for you even if this trailer was the size of my bathroom and nothing bigger.”

“You swear?” Eddie asked. He held out his pinky, and his uncle immediately gripped it with his own.

“I swear.”

Wayne moved to set up the fold out bed.

“You don’t have to go through any of that tonight. It’s late enough as it is. Let me get your bed set up, and we can deal with all of that tomorrow.”

“I’m fine on the couch.”

“Don’t be silly. I’m not gonna let you sleep on the couch when I’ve got a perfectly good bed for you.”

“It’s really okay. When we weren’t sleeping in the car, I slept on a lot of couches at other people’s places. The floor sometimes, too. But I always liked the couches best."

The boy seemed eager to please as if he'd been told not to be difficult about where he slept in the past. To accept what he was offered without complaint. Wayne didn't want to fight him on this, but he also didn't want Eddie to think that this was any trouble for him. He'd give him the choice and let the boy do whatever he was most comfortable with.

"Well, I'm just gonna go ahead and set up the bed anyway. You don't have to sleep on it if you don't want to, but I want you to have it as an option."

Wayne barely slept that night. Eddie had looked at the fold out bed as if it was a trap before curling up into a ball on the sofa. It was then that it occurred to him that his nephew hadn't had his own room or any space to really call his own since the first time he'd come to live at the trailer. He'd always shared his uncle's room or the living room or whatever space his dad was able to provide.

Wayne had never needed much space. He didn't have a lot of stuff, and he figured he could fit most of his things in the tiny closet outside the bathroom if he did a little rearranging. Most of his drawers had been taken up by Eddie’s clothes when he lived there the first time anyway. He could take the fold out bed in the living room and give up his bedroom for his nephew. And if Eddie had his own space, maybe that would silence whatever was telling him that he was unwanted and allow him to relax.

So, instead of sleeping, he went through his closet. The boxes filled with Eddie’s old clothes were emptied onto the bed so he could load them up with his things. Moving it all into the hall closet and drawers could wait until morning since he didn’t want to accidentally wake his nephew, but he could get the room mostly ready for the boy to move into it. 

By the time it was a reasonable enough hour for him to go and make his morning coffee, he had all of his stuff piled in boxes in the corner and another box of things he was planning on donating to Goodwill. He figured he could wash the sheets and put a fresh set on the bed later, but everything else was ready.

Eddie was still curled up asleep on the couch when Wayne exited the bedroom, so he tried to be as quiet as possible as he started the coffee. He woke up before the coffee was done though, and soon enough, he was rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he stood next to his uncle in the kitchen.

“You sleep okay, kiddo?” Wayne asked as he pulled out a couple cereal bowls.

Eddie nodded before moving to take his normal spot at the small table. Wayne didn’t want to pry too much, but he was clueless about what Eddie’s life had been like over the last few years, so he tried to get the boy to talk to him without it seeming like he was interrogating him.

Over bowls of Cheerios, Eddie shared that most of the time, his dad had him hang out at the comic book shop after school and on the weekends. He wasn’t supposed to get in the way while Richie was working, so every week, his dad gave him two dollars, and he could spend that on whatever comics he wanted even if the only ones he really cared about were the X-Men ones. The guy who ran the shop was really nice and let Eddie sit there for as long as he needed to even on the days that he wasn’t buying anything. He never missed school, and his dad always made sure he was fed, so at least he hadn’t been lacking in those departments. Richie was neglectful in a lot of ways, but he had managed to do the bare minimum. He could be thankful for that at least.

After breakfast, Wayne had Eddie help him sort through the boy’s old clothes. None of the pants were going to fit him anymore, but he had a handful of shirts that had been a little big before that he could still fit into. Wayne just hoped that they’d be able to find a few pairs of jeans in decent shape while they were at Goodwill because he definitely didn’t have the money to drop on new pants.

Eddie wanted to keep his dinosaurs and the one little car that had been his favorite, and of course he was keeping Mister Lion, but the rest of his old toys joined the Goodwill boxes. He just wasn’t interested in those things anymore. Wayne made a mental note to pick up a new box of crayons the next time he was at the grocery store since Eddie was very adamant about keeping all of his old drawings, and his old crayons were barely usable anymore.

Their trip to Goodwill was a successful one. Wayne had to use up a good portion of his cigarette budget for the month on a new wardrobe for Eddie, but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make. He’d been meaning to cut back anyway.

“Why don’t you go and put your clothes away in your room?” Wayne told Eddie when they returned to the trailer.

“My room?”

“The bedroom is yours, Eds. I just have to move a few things into the other closet and change the sheets, and then it’ll be ready.”

“You don’t have to give up your room for me.”

“I know. But I want to. Figured you should have a space of your own if you’re gonna be staying here permanently.”

Eddie dropped the bags he was holding and went to give his uncle a hug.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“No need to thank me. You deserve this.” As Wayne was moving the rest of his stuff out of the room, Eddie was drawn to one item in particular.

“You play guitar?” he asked, eyeing the old acoustic in his uncle’s hands.

“I used to. I don’t think I’ve actually played it since before you were born. I was about your age when I learned though.”

“Could you teach me?”

“Sure can. I was just gonna stick it in the closet, but you can keep it in your room if you want and you promise to be real careful with it.”

Eddie nodded enthusiastically before taking the guitar from his uncle and carrying it back into his bedroom.

The rest of Eddie’s first day back at the trailer passed by without any incident. Eddie was slowly warming up to being there again even if he still seemed cautious about what he was and wasn’t allowed to do. It wasn’t until bedtime that Wayne was certain things would be okay between them.

By then, he was exhausted from having stayed up all night and all the work he did to get the bedroom ready for him. He’d just tucked Eddie in and was getting ready to set up his own bed in the living room when he heard the bedroom door open.

“What are you doing out of bed?” he asked. “Thought you were going to sleep?”

“I was,” Eddie said as he looked down at the ground. “But I was just thinking maybe you could set up your bed in my room like we used to? Just for tonight?”

“I think that can be arranged.”

Wayne squeezed the fold out bed into the cramped bedroom. Without saying a word, Eddie handed his uncle the copy of The Hobbit that was sitting on the nightstand, and even though he was ready to crash, Wayne settled in and read until his nephew was softly snoring beside him just as he had so many times before.

December 1976

Wayne was not spoiling Eddie for Christmas this year. If anyone asked, he insisted he wasn’t. He was staying well within his budget for the holidays, but he was buying pretty much everything secondhand, so his money went a little further. He’d picked up a few board games and an assortment of mismatched legos from the Goodwill, and he’d managed to get a good deal on a new set of strings for the guitar. He’d even picked up the 64 pack of Crayola crayons that had a sharpener built into the box and some plain, unlined paper for him to draw on. Eddie's Christmases with his dad hadn't exactly been great ones, and he wanted to do what he could to make up for that. There was just one last thing he wanted to get.

It had all started when Eddie had spent an entire day drawing at the kitchen table. Wayne hadn't been paying much attention to him because anything that kept Eddie occupied and quiet for more than five minutes meant he could get some cleaning done around the trailer without his nephew getting underfoot or making more work for him. He loved the kid as if he were his own, but he could be a handful at times. When he went to put another load of dirty clothes in the washer and figure out what he was making for dinner, he got a good look at what Eddie had been drawing.

Wayne gathered up the papers and shuffled through them, and he was amazed by Eddie's work. They were good drawings. Not just good for a kid drawings where you could tell what they were supposed to be but they still looked clumsy. These were actually good, and they were all dragons. Different shapes, sizes, and colors. Some breathing fire, some flying, and some sleeping, but all recognizable as dragons.

"Did you draw all of these?" he asked.

Eddie nodded without looking up from his current drawing.

"And you didn't trace 'em or copy them from something or anything?"

"Nope. I just drew what I pictured."

“These are really great, Eds. Best drawings I’ve ever seen.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Don’t know where you got all this talent from. No one in our family can draw more than a stick figure.”

Eddie was absolutely beaming from all of the praise.

“Which one is your favorite?” the boy asked.

Wayne flipped through the stack of drawings in his hand before pulling out one of a purple dragon asleep on a pile of gold coins and jewels.

“If I had to pick, it’s this one,” he said as he held up the picture. “Would you mind if I hung it on the fridge?”

“You wanna hang up my picture?”

“Of course, I do. Gotta display it like the masterpiece it is.”

After the first drawing was in its place on the fridge, Eddie wanted to hang the rest of his dragons up in his room, so Wayne carefully taped up each and every one of them exactly where Eddie told him to. The entire time, Eddie was sitting cross-legged on his bed monologuing about how cool dragons were and why they were his most favorite fantasy creature. It was then that Wayne knew he had to find a way to get his boy something dragon-related for Christmas.

The problem he was facing was that there seemed to be absolutely nothing dragon-related in all of Hawkins, and he was running out of time. He didn’t know what he was going to do until he spotted something on one of the shelves in the comic book shop.

Wayne couldn’t give Eddie as much money as his dad had been giving him to spend on comics, but every Saturday, they took a trip there after lunch and before they did their grocery shopping for the next week. Eddie was allowed to choose one comic to take home, and Wayne would let him take as long as he needed to make that decision. Usually, he’d just stand and wait with Eddie, but a box with a large red dragon on the front had piqued his interest, so he went to examine it. It didn’t take long for him to realize that it was the perfect gift for his nephew.

When Eddie ran up to him with the comic he’d chosen, Wayne told him to go wait in the truck while he paid. As soon as his nephew was out of his sight, he grabbed the box and bought it along with the comic. It was a little more than he wanted to spend, but he knew it would be worth it to see Eddie’s face when he opened it on Christmas morning.

Wayne had barely opened his eyes before Eddie was shoving a gift into his hands on Christmas morning. He’d insisted that he didn’t need anything like he had for every single Christmas of his adult life, and he had been ignored as usual. When he opened the gift bag, he was presented with four different coffee mugs.

“There’s one for this year, and one for every Christmas I missed,” Eddie said, looking very proud of himself.

“How’d you get the money to pay for these?”

“A group of kids on the playground bet me their milk money that I wouldn’t eat a worm.”

“You ate a worm?”

Eddie shrugged. “It didn’t seem like a bad idea at the time.”

Wayne snorted and moved to ruffle a hand through the boy’s curls. “We’ve gotta work on your impulse control, kid.”

“Do you like them?” Eddie asked.

“I love ‘em. In fact, I’m gonna have my morning coffee in one of them, and I’ll make you a special Christmas hot cocoa in one, too.”

After the drinks had been passed out, Wayne pushed his bed to the side so he and Eddie could sit on the floor together with the tiny fake tree that Wayne had found at a garage sale. It wasn’t much, and it looked even tinier when the small pile of gifts for Eddie was almost the same height, but Eddie had just been excited to have a tree which was good enough for Wayne.

As Eddie opened his gifts, Wayne made sure that the one he was the most excited to give him was the last one he opened.

“Dungeons and Dragons?” Eddie read off the front of the box.

“It’s a fantasy roleplaying game,” Wayne told him. “I don’t know much about it, but the guy down at the comic book shop said it’s pretty fun, and I know how much you like dragons and fantasy stuff, so I thought this could be fun. I figured you could read the manual and maybe teach me how to play? If that’s okay with you, of course.”

It was more than okay with Eddie. Wayne watched as Eddie did nothing but read the manuals and plan out a small campaign for them to play for pretty much his entire winter break. On New Year’s Eve, he sat his uncle down at their kitchen table and walked him through creating a character before diving into their fantasy adventure. Wayne tried his best to understand what was going on, and Eddie often had to remind him which die to roll and when, but the boy’s excitement and enthusiasm for the game was apparent the entire time. He never got frustrated with him for forgetting what he was supposed to be doing, and he put every bit of his dramatic, over the top personality into painting a picture of this fantasy world.

There were plenty of days where Wayne was convinced that he was doing everything wrong when it came to raising Eddie, but as he watched his nephew fall in love with his new game, he knew that he’d done at least one thing right.

May 1980

When Eddie started middle school, Wayne had decided he was old enough to take the bus home from school and be alone at the trailer until he got home from work. For the most part, this hadn’t been a bad idea, and Eddie had only almost flooded the trailer once. But, towards the end of eighth grade, there was one big hiccup.

“I messed up,” Eddie called from the bathroom the second Wayne had walked in the door.

"Messed up how?"

"Can you just come here?"

Wayne made his way back to the bathroom where he found Eddie leaning over the sink. Sitting on the edge of the sink was a pair of scissors, and there was a very obvious chunk of hair missing from the left side of his head. Considering the fact that Eddie had just told him a week before that he was planning on growing out his hair in an attempt to emulate his favorite musicians, Wayne was more than a little bit confused.

"Wanna tell me what happened?" he asked.

"I was just minding my own business and talking to my friend Jeff about how awesome Corroded Coffin was gonna be at the talent show next week when the kid in the seat behind me smashed his gum in my hair."

"Is this the same kid who called you a freak and ripped up your notebook last month?"

"Yeah . . . I've been ignoring him like you said, but he just won't leave me alone."

Wayne had never considered beating a child before, but there was a first time for everything.

"And I'm guessing the scissors are out because you were trying to get the gum out by yourself?"

"I tried everything. But I couldn't get it out with my hands, and trying to pick it out with my comb only made it worse. And I didn't know what to do, so I figured I could just cut it out, and no one would notice. But I ended up cutting off too much, and now I look like this."

"Why didn't you wait for me to get home? I could've helped you."

"I was embarrassed," Eddie said. The boy looked like he was about ready to cry. "I don't like talking about this stuff, so I thought maybe I could do it alone, and then I wouldn't have to tell you."

Wayne sighed before squeezing past Eddie to pull his clippers out of the bathroom cabinet.

"I can fix this," he said. "It's not going to be what you want, and it's going to take awhile for your hair to grow back, but I can at least even it out and make it look like you wanted your hair to be shorter, okay?"

Eddie nodded.

"Good. Now take a seat and let me take care of you."

Eddie sat down on the edge of the toilet, and Wayne got to work. To make it easier for the clippers to do their job, Wayne started out by using the scissors to cut off Eddie's curls in chunks that he tossed aside in the sink. Once his hair was a more manageable length, Wayne turned on the clippers and started evening out the cut. It definitely wasn't what Eddie wanted, but soon enough, the boy was sporting a fresh buzz cut.

“I’m going to clean up in here, and then you can take a shower if you want. After that, meet me in the kitchen. I think you and I might need to have a talk.”

After sweeping up Eddie’s hair, Wayne headed into the kitchen and put on the water for hot chocolate. That was their routine. Whenever they had to talk about something even remotely upsetting, they did it over cups of hot cocoa in the hopes that the sweetness of the drink would soften the blow.

Eddie came out of the bathroom and took his usual seat at the kitchen table just as Wayne was finished making their drinks. He set Eddie’s mug down in front of him before taking his own seat. It was obvious to him that the boy had been crying while he was in the bathroom from his red-rimmed eyes, but he didn’t comment on it. He didn’t want to make Eddie feel worse than he clearly already did.

Wayne couldn’t get a word out before Eddie started talking.

“I don’t think I wanna do the talent show anymore,” he said as he stared into his mug.

“Why not? It’s all you’ve talked about for weeks.”

“They haven’t even heard me play yet, and I’m already getting picked on for it. What if I suck, and it gets worse?”

“So what?”

“What do you mean so what?” Eddie asked. “You just had to shave my head. I don’t want anything like this to happen ever again.”

Wayne sighed and took a sip from his mug.

“I know we don’t talk about your mama very often, but after you, music was her favorite thing in this world. When you all lived with me, there wasn’t a moment of the day that she wasn’t singing along with whatever was playing on the radio, and she might have been just about the worst singer I’ve heard in my entire life. Couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket if her life depended on it, and we all teased her about it constantly. But that didn’t stop her from singing her heart out whenever she heard her favorite songs.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“People around here are small-minded, and they’re raising their children to be a bunch of small-minded idiots. No matter what you do, there’s always going to be someone who’s gonna try to make you feel small. That’s just the way life is. And if you stop yourself from doing the things you love just because someone else is making fun of you for it, you’re only letting the bullies win. You’ve gotta be a bigger and louder version of yourself and not let them affect you.

“You are so much like your mama in a lot of ways. Practically a little clone of her at times. Especially when you smile. But the biggest difference that I can see is that you have talent. I may not understand the kind of music you like, but I can tell when something sounds good. I hear you practicing, and you’ve got a gift. I won’t lie to you and pretend that everyone is going to love your performance or that the bullies will magically disappear, but what I can tell you is that it would be a damn shame if you didn’t share your gift with the world just because some little shit stain on your bus clearly wasn’t raised right.”

Wayne got up from the table to put his mug in the sink, but he’d barely taken a step before Eddie had jumped up and wrapped his arms around his uncle in a bone-crushing hug.

“Thank you,” Eddie whispered.

“You’re welcome,” Wayne replied as he hugged him back. “I probably don’t say this enough, but I hope you know that I love you, and I’m always going to be in your corner.”

“I know. I love you, too.”

“Good. And if you have any more trouble on that bus of yours, you let me know, and I’ll kick that little punk’s butt. No one is gonna get away with treating my boy like crap.”

Eddie snorted as he pulled away from his uncle.

“I’m sure he’ll be terrified. You’re basically the least intimidating person I know.”

“Okay, smart ass. I’m plenty intimidating.”

“You’re about as scary as a teddy bear.”

It was Wayne’s turn to laugh.

A few weeks later, when Father’s Day rolled around, Wayne woke up to a gift and a homemade card waiting for him next to the coffee maker. He opened the card first, and printed in Eddie’s messy scrawl, it read:

I feel like this is probably long overdue, and I should have been honoring you today for at least a few years now. You’ve been more of a dad to me than I ever remember mine being, and I feel like I don’t tell you how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me enough. So thanks for always being there. Happy Father’s Day from your boy.

Feeling a little choked up, Wayne pulled the gift towards himself next. It was wrapped up in the comics from the day before’s newspaper with way too much tape. He knew what it would be before he'd even unwrapped it, but he was always happy to see whatever mug Eddie had picked out for him. This one was dark green and patterned with sunflowers, and he knew that it was going to become one of his new favorites immediately if only because of the circumstances in which he received it.

March 1986

Wayne Munson was tired. Tired of people judging Eddie without really knowing him, tired of people not listening to him, and tired of people defacing his missing posters instead of actually helping him look. He was tired of having to keep his guard up when anyone tried to talk to him because he didn’t want to lose his temper and attack someone for spouting vile nonsense at him, and he was tired of spending every waking moment - and most of his sleeping ones - worrying about Eddie. Tired of sleeping in the high school surrounded by people who had actively been hunting down his boy to do who knows what to him. He was just tired.

So, when Dustin Henderson came up to him and gave him the news that Eddie was gone, he could feel himself crumbling from the inside out. At first, he didn’t want to believe it. It couldn’t be true. His boy was out there somewhere and hiding until someone could find concrete evidence that cleared his name. He had to be. But the guitar pick necklace that Dustin held out to him and the apparent pain plastered across the kid’s face had sealed it. His boy was dead, and he was never going to see him again.

Wayne had never been one to outwardly express his emotions. He tended to keep things tucked away until he could have a moment in private, and he certainly never cried in public. But hearing the way that Dustin spoke so fondly about Eddie broke him. Because Dustin was saying everything that he already knew to be true. If Hawkins had really taken the time to get to know his boy, they all would have been able to look past his outer appearance, and they would have loved him just as much as Wayne did. He was certain of it. He just never thought he’d hear someone else say it.

Shortly after he spoke to Dustin, Wayne and the other trailer park residents were given the all clear to go back to their trailers and gather their things. The relief workers had marked it as safe for them to enter briefly, but no one was going to be allowed to stay there for very long. They were instructed to gather up anything important and head back to their temporary housing at the school as soon as possible. Eventually, they’d be able to come back and grab the rest of their things when more permanent housing was found for them, but for now, they were limited in how much they could take.

Wayne didn’t know how much of his stuff was going to be worth saving. Frankly, he was surprised that his trailer had even been left standing when he saw the fault line that ran through what had once been his living room. Out of an abundance of caution, he had entered through the door down near the bedroom instead of the main entrance. He moved quickly, shoving as many of his clothes in his bag as he could. He’d much rather wear his own stuff than the donations that people brought into the school.

After that, he grabbed the sentimental things. For once, he was thankful that he didn’t keep things in conventional places because that meant that all of his photo albums were safe. The notebooks full of Eddie’s childhood drawings and his favorite dragon picture were safe. Eddie’s beloved stuffed lion was safe. All of these were carefully added to his bag. But the one thing he couldn’t take was what hurt the most to leave behind.

He’d known the second that he saw the fault line running through his home that his mugs wouldn’t have made it. What was left of his living room display was now smashed on the floor, and he could tell just from the look of it that there was nothing he could save. He knew it was stupid for him to be so upset about them. They were just a bunch of mugs and nobody else would find them important. Anybody else wouldn’t give them a second thought because they could be replaced. 

But they were important to Wayne. Those mugs tied him to better times with people he would never be able to see again. He could buy a new mug, but he couldn’t buy the mugs that Linda had stolen from her parents for him, he couldn’t buy the mugs that Eddie had eaten a worm to pay for, and he couldn’t buy the mug that Eddie gave him the first time he recognized him on Father’s Day. He couldn’t buy back the happiness that looking at those mugs and remembering their stories gave him. That was gone forever.

He didn’t want to set himself up for even more disappointment, but a part of him needed to know if the mugs that he stored in the cabinet had made it through the earthquake. Those were the ones that he used the most often. His favorites. He would be heartbroken if they were all destroyed, but he needed that closure.

When he opened the cabinet above the coffee maker, he was met with a shelf covered with the broken pieces of his mugs that had smashed against each other in the enclosed space. He knew not to get his hopes up, but it was still a painful sight to see.

But, pushed into the very back corner of the cabinet, there was one mug that appeared to still be intact. He carefully pulled it out of the debris to inspect it. Sporting a new chip on the handle, the mug featured the phrase “World’s Best Uncle” hand-painted on the side along with a bright blue baby handprint. The mug from Eddie’s first Christmas.

As he carefully wrapped the mug in a sheet of newspaper that was sitting on the floor underneath the kitchen table, Wayne felt himself choking back tears for the second time that day. It wasn’t his whole collection, but at least it was something. After all, he was only one man. He always said he didn’t need more than one mug.