#tell them what I could tell CPS

[goldkirk]

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[hauntingblue]

Gear 5 luffy's laugh is so contagious I just hear the drums and go insane how does this work. What did he do to me

[fluentmoviequoter]

Home to My Family

Amazing idea from @avada-kedavra-bitch-187!

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!reader

Summary: After you give birth to twins, they're taken by a nurse for checkups. You soon realize that she's not a nurse, so Tim calls in reinforcements to save your children and catch their abductor.

Warnings: child abduction, r just gave birth but story begins post-labor, angst, happy ending with fluff

Word Count: 1.7k+ words

Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info

“Congratulations,” the doctor says as your second baby is placed in your arms. “Two healthy babies.”

“They’re perfect,” you murmur, your eyes on the baby boy in your arms.

“A nurse will be in shortly to take them for full checkups,” someone informs you.

“How do you feel?” Tim asks.

You look away from your son and smile at the sight of Tim holding his daughter. She beat her brother into the world by nearly three minutes, and Tim has been enraptured with her since then.

“I’m okay,” you assure him. “We did good.”

Tim scoffs and lays his hand on your son’s back as he corrects, “We did great.”

“Hello, Bradfords,” a nurse greets with a knock on the open door. “I’m here to borrow these babies.”

You watch as Tim hands your daughter to the nurse to be placed in a bassinet before he turns to you to take your son. It makes you uncomfortable to hand them over so soon after giving birth, but the first checkup is necessary. Tim takes your hand and sits on the edge of your hospital bed to wait together.

“Did you call Angela?” you ask.

“Where are those pretty Bradford babies?” another nurse singsongs as she enters. “Checkup time!”

You furrow your brows, but Tim is on his feet before you can ask any questions. Tim is heartbreakingly familiar with the reality of evil in the world, and he realizes before you that something terrible has happened. As he races into the hall, fear settles over you as tears build in your eyes. If the real nurse is here now, who has your children? And where are they?

The nurse leaves to double-check that your babies weren’t transported by another nurse, and you’re left alone. After several minutes alone, scared, Tim returns and shakes his head. His jaw is clenched tightly, but you can tell he’s only a moment from breaking.

“I reported it to the department,” Tim says, his voice tight. “Angela’s on the way and I let her know too.”

You nod before you sit up carefully, wincing in pain as you swing your legs over the edge of the bed.

“Hey, hey, no,” Tim murmurs, rounding the foot of the bed. He lowers before you and lays his hands over your thighs. “You just gave birth; you need to rest.”

“I need to find them, Tim. We have to find them!” you exclaim through your cries.

“I know. We will, I promise we will.”

“But you don’t need my help.”

Tim smiles at your attitude, understandable anger building beneath your pain, fear, and tiredness.

“Your help isn’t the issue, it’s your health.”

“Timothy,” Angela greets. She walks to your side and hugs you tightly. “Tell me everything.”

You lie back carefully as Tim recounts the events of the past few minutes. Angela nods along, then looks around your room.

“They’re still in the hospital, I’d bet,” Tim concludes.

“Grey stationed officers at every opening to keep it that way,” Angela responds. “There’s plenty of hiding places in a hospital. But Tim…”

“I don’t know,” he answers. “I have no idea who would do this. I’ve put plenty of people away, called CPS hundreds of times, any of those people could have decided to return the favor.”

Lucy and Nolan knock on the open door, and Tim waves them in as Angela draws a diagram of the hospital on the whiteboard opposite you. Lucy walks directly to your side while Nolan stands beside the door to watch the hallway.

“What do you need?” Lucy asks softly.

“I don’t know,” you whisper, wiping a stray tear from your cheek. “Other than the obvious.”

“We’re going to find them. Half of the station is here for you.”

“There’s only one option that finishes this quickly,” Angela decides. “We split up and search every floor of this hospital.”

Tim looks to you rather than answering, and you promise, “I’m okay to be alone. I trust you, all of you, to find them and bring them back to me. Do whatever you have to do.”

“We will,” Tim promises. “Nolan, stay here, keep an eye on this hallway. Lucy, you’re with me.”

Lucy squeezes your hand kindly before she walks to Tim’s side. Nolan steps out of your room with them and closes the door. Completely alone, all you can do is wait.

“Hey,” Tim calls urgently. A male nurse spins and raises his hands in question. “Have you seen a nurse in pink scrubs with twins?”

“There’s lots of nurses, pink scrubs, and twins here, sir,” the man answers.

Tim takes a measured step toward him, and the man steps back urgently, bumping into the desk behind him.

“Do you want to be charged with aiding and abetting a kidnapping?”

“Sir, if you’ve seen a woman in pink scrubs with two bassinets, you need to tell us now,” Angela interjects.

“I haven’t,” he answers quickly. “I swear I haven’t.”

Tim steps away from the scared nurse and sighs.

“This floor is clear, no sign of them,” Angela reports.

Tim’s phone buzzes in his pocket, and he retrieves it without looking away from the empty hallway.

“I remember when I wasn’t allowed to look at my phone on duty,” Lucy muses.

“Your children hadn’t been abducted,” Tim snaps. He reads a message, furrows his brows, and then says, “Angela.”

Angela knows that Tim using her first name isn’t a good sign, and she's proven right when he passes his phone over. “Where is this?”

“I can’t tell. The message seems familiar,” Tim replies.

Angela zooms in on the picture while Tim repeats the message to himself. Lucy moves beside Angela and looks at the picture, pointing to any discernable items in the background. The image shows your son in the bassinet front and center, and while it’s clear that they’re still in the sterile, white hospital, it’s unclear where.

“Supply closet,” Angela realizes just as Tim says, “Keiran Tumble.”

“The counterfeiter?” Lucy asks. “What’s his problem with you?”

“I arrested him, but I’m also why he lost visitation rights for his kids. They were in the warehouse with the printing fumes. He hasn’t been out of prison long.”

“Prison for counterfeiting?”

“Federal prison. The Reserve pressed additional charges. When he got out, he got served with the papers about his kids.”

“Wait,” Angela interrupts. “You said it was a female nurse.”

“Keiran’s girlfriend,” Tim guesses. “I didn’t see her, she wasn’t there when we raided his operation, but I’ve heard plenty about her.”

“Me too. Tim, she’s suspected of at least three murders. This isn’t a manhunt; we have to find her without risking your kids.”

“ Supply closet?” Tim repeats. “Let’s find the right one, and then we move in. She makes one move toward them, and you drop her.”

“Tim, maybe you should sit this one out,” Lucy suggests.

“No,” Angela answers. “If this were Jack, I’d want to be right there when we found him. Look that monster in the face and remind her that at the end of every day, I go home to my family.”

“I’m more use here, Chen,” Tim assures. “How’s Nolan?”

“He said everything’s clear there. Only a few nurses through since we left.”

Tim nods, but Angela purses her lips in thought.

“What?” Tim inquires.

“Isn’t your room across from a supply area? Wouldn’t someone have needed something by now?” she asks.

“No one saw them because they didn’t go far,” Lucy realizes.

“Let’s go!” Angela exclaims.

Fiddling with the blanket over your legs, you think about what you will do when you get your babies back. Kiss them, apologize even though they won’t know what’s happening, and then beg Tim to take you home. You refuse to think about any alternative.

“Yep,” Nolan says on the other side of your door. “All clear here, too. Good luck.”

“C’mon, Tim,” you whisper.

You trust him more than anything, but right now, your fear threatens to override all of your rational thoughts.

Suddenly, a single gunshot sounds. Immediately after, you hear screams and loud promises that everything is alright and everyone is safe. You, however, refuse to believe it until you see your husband and children. Frozen in uncertainty and fear, you count your shallow breaths rather than running through possible scenarios.

Two firm knocks on your door are followed by Nolan smiling as he holds the door open. Tim steps in with both of your babies cradled in his arms and a relieved look. You release a shaky breath, then smile as tears roll over your cheeks.

“It’s over,” Angela promises as she hugs you. “We got her.”

Tim walks to the other side of your bed and carefully lowers the twins to your chest. They coo softly in their sleep, none the wiser about what they’ve been through. Holding them against you, you kiss their heads and whisper that you love them.

“Do you know what you need now?” Lucy asks.

“Get me out of here,” you beg, smiling.

“I’ll see what I can do,” she answers, leading Nolan out of the room.

“What happened?” you ask Tim.

“Do you remember Keiran Tumble?” You nod, and he places his arm around your shoulders as he continues, “He got out, mad about his arrest and losing his kids, and sent his girlfriend to make me feel some of the same pain. Or that’s the working theory.”

“It’s right,” Angela adds. “Only a criminal would be that stupid.”

"So, Nolan radioed an all-clear, got her guard down, and we went in. She shouldn't be out for a very long time."

You lay your head against Tim’s shoulder and say, “I love you.”

“Aw, I love you, too!” Angela jokes.

“If you weren’t our first choice for godmother, I’d kick you out,” Tim tells her.

“You love me.”

“Thank you,” you interject. “I’m glad you’re both here.”

“I’m going to go fill in Grey and then make sure your house is ready for an early return,” Angela says as she steps toward the door. “Need anything else?”

“You’ve done more than I can ever thank you for,” you answer. “I’ll call you later.”

“Like she won’t still be at the house when we get home,” Tim mumbles.

“Hey, I filled up your freezer with comfort food, be nice to me, Timothy.”

Alone with your babies, you smile as Tim extends his finger to your slowly waking son. You’ll never get tired of being with them, and there’s no one else you’d rather have by your side than Tim Bradford.

[wonderjanga]

Billy and Mister Scarlet

So, I was reading on the wiki for Mister Scarlet and apparently, he’s broke. Or at least he put himself out of a job. As a result, he has to work odd jobs. You know who also works odd jobs because he’s broke? Billy. Let’s just say they run into each other every now and then when the two happen to both help sweep a certain diner, or run delivers for a local ma and pop shop.

Billy: “Heya, Mister Butler.” *little wave as he picks up some food he needs to deliver*

Brian: “Hello, Billy.” *also picking up some food he needs to deliver*

Billy: “How’s your kid?”

Brian: “He’s doing good.”

And let me tell you right now I think Mister Scarlet, or Brian, cause that’s his name, would want to adopt Billy so badly, but, you know, he’s not in the best financial situation not only that but he has a kid of his own already. The man prays every that odd job he takes, Billy will be there so he can check up on the kid. Because I mean, Billy is such a sweetie. He’s such a cutie patootie and he’s so nice. He doesn’t deserve anything that he went through, and as much as he wants to call CPS, Billy explicitly told him not to. Billy told him this one day when they were unloading boxes, or rather Brian was unloading boxes and Billy was checking them off on a clipboard.

Brian: “I’m just saying, maybe the next home could be better.” *unloads a box from a truck*

Billy: “I’ve thought that too. Multiple times. I don’t ever wanna go to another home again. I’m better off on the streets. *checks something on the clipboard*

Brian: “But you’re not.”

Billy: “But I am.” *says with a little more annoyance in his tone than he’d like. He then realizes this and feels bad* “I’m sorry. I just don’t want to go back. I don’t want a repeat of the last five ones.”

Brian: *sighs* “I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

This incident just made him want to adopt Billy more. Then, during all of this, there was his vigilante life as Mister Scarlet. He’d met the hero Captain Marvel a few times now. The man seems friendly. Or at least he seemed friendly

It all started when the two had briefly teamed up to take down a villain.

Marvel: *staring at Mister Scarlet, looking confused*

Mister Scarlet: “What? What is it?”

Marvel: *puts hands on hips* “Well, it’s nothing really. It’s just that every time we meet, I can’t help but think you’re familiar.”

Mister Scarlet: “I don’t feel that at all.”

Marvel: “You don’t, but I do.” *stares for a few seconds* “Mister Butler…?”

Mister Scarlet: *has an almost-heart attack* “Wha? How do you?”

Marvel: “I’m Billyyyssss… uncle. Billy’s uncle.”

Solomon: “Nice save there, champ.”

Mister Scarlet: “Billy’s uncle…?” *remembers the one time Billy opened up to him about how his uncle was the reason he lived on the streets* “You… You bastard!”

Marvel: “What!?”

Mister Scarlet: “Billy! He told me about you! You scummy scum! That kid isn’t in school, working at the ripe age of 10! All because of you!”

Marvel: *hits Billy like a train when he remembers that he told Brian about the whole Ebenezer thing* “Uhm… he’s 12.” *mumbles*

Mister Scarlet: “Like that’s any better! How dare you! How dare you go and pretend to be a hero when you kicked that poor kid to streets?! What is wrong with you?!”

Marvel: *just stands there and takes the verbal lashing because he can’t really say anything without being outed as a liar*

[f1ghtsoftly]

Upon reflection, it was so damaging in childhood to be expected to preform at the same level as everyone else while being abused. I had so many embarrassing conversations with adults in my life about why I did this, why I was messy, why I was late all the time, why I didn’t get work done. Telling the truth would mean a CPS call that would yield nothing but a brutal beating the next day. Sorry, I was shaking when I woke up and could barely get out of the house because there was screaming so loud it shook the walls to my bedroom. Sorry, my sister was locked outside like a dog last night, I had to wait late to sneak her out a snack. Sorry, I’m afraid to ask my parents because of how they will react.

I really can’t overstate how much I dislike stories about magical poor kids, disabled or otherwise marginalized kids somehow preforming exceptionally under very difficult circumstances, because even though sometimes that does happen, it is a vanishingly small amount of kids that can even make something of that talent or skill after they display it. It is simply too much to ask a human being to continue steady work while caring for addicts, while getting sexually abused, while repeatedly not being accommodated for disability, in the aftermath of severe bullying and assault.

It is so brutally, brutally unfair that our society sees working hard through abuse, homelessness, unaccommodated disability, illness and poverty as some kind of badge of honor and not what it really is, a blistering indictment of how our society expects someone living in a shelter to work just as hard as someone in a stable home and have the same resources and blames those who fail to meet expectations with less opportunity, lower wages and social scorn. I can’t express how inhumane it is.

I remember a friend of my sister’s who was r*ped by an older boy in my grade. She was taking some advanced classes and the school was “unable” to separate them and keep her in advanced classes. I remember how anyone expected her to learn in that class but she would also be blamed if she didn’t preform well. No college would get a note explaining a poor grade or a poor semester due to retraumatization from abuse. Her failure to work through humiliating and traumatizing circumstances would mean a loss of educational attainment and potentially a worse transcript.

A lot of words are thrown around about victim blaming and there are very real cases, like Amber Heard, where women are attacked for coming forward or defending themselves against abuse-but another pernicious form of victim blaming comes from expecting someone to trudge through the unthinkable and label them as sick, as failures, as mentally challenged or just not good enough when they inevitably fail.

[byers-bowlcut]

I've seen people say El likes the IDEA of having a boyfriend more than she actually likes her own boyfriend, and jfc it's so true 😭 Like it's all over the show:

Season 1

She's initially attached to Mike because he's the first person to give her shelter, food, genuine human care and just,, not calling CPS immediately. Her feelings for him was born from trauma and dependency in season 1. And throughout the rest of the 3 seasons, we don't see it grow past that.

Also I think it's noticeable in S1 that:

She was uninterested when Mike tried to share his hobbies with her

She also did not seem to mind AT ALL when she questioned if Mike could be her brother. He voice is neutral and curious here, not the least bit repulsed by the thought of being siblings with Mike, like girl does not care 😭

Season 2

This season has zero onscreen moments of Mike and El actually getting to know each other further. They were separated nearly the whole season.

What we DO see:

El's attachment and dependency on Mike that was developed from S1

We also find out how El spent a year of her life watching melodramatic romance films. Many other middle schoolers might identify that relationships in real life don't work like those films. But El is fresh out of lab life, she's literally learning the world through this TV, and has now become obsessed with the IDEA of having a boyfriend/relationship just like that.

Season 3

Again, no onscreen moments of El showing interest in who Mike is as a person.

The very first scene we see of them, she's trying to get him to stop singing along to the song they're listening to. She seems to like kissing Mike. But isn't shown enjoying anything actually characteristic about him, like sharing interests with him such as music.

Hopper indicates that they don't do anything meaningful together either. We see here that before hanging out with Max, El had little sense of her own style, her hobbies, her interests- meaning spending time with Mike for months probably didn't involve many talking points did it?

Also in season 3, El dumps Mike with ZERO hesitation. Then she has the time of her life with Max. The most acknowledgment we get that she's oh so heartbroken is a small frown to Max that her and Mike aren't on best terms. And even that doesn't seem so paramount cause 1 episode later she totally dismisses Mike after he explains how Hopper threatened him. She just tells him maybe Hopper was right 😭😭

It's literally ONLY once she starts becoming in danger that she starts clinging onto him again. I feel like we've seen this film before hm.

Like where are any signs that she likes Mike as an individual, and is falling for who he really is, rather than simply being attached due to trauma, and liking the concept of doing romantic things (ie: kissing, dancing at the ball, etc.)

Season 4

This is the season it becomes the MOST OBVIOUS: El loves the concept of a happy relationship and being loved, but not really loving Mike for who he is. And bringing in Will's feelings just emphasizes this point.

To start, El continues doing all these relationship-y things that she did in the start of S3. She has Mike's name and pictures plastered all over her room. She makes a "Mike box" with his pictures decorated all over it. But the thing is: this is all sort of a façade at this point. We know she's BEEN unhappy with him for months ("From Mike! From Mike! From Mike!"). But with all these items, she's basically trying to convince herself that she's in this happy, fantasy, movie-like relationship, like she probably watched in hopper's cabin in season 2.

And then, there's the sheer difference between her and WILL in their feelings for Mike. We see it right off the bat when Mike comes to the airport: Will and El both have plans to give Mike something.

Will plans to give him a painting he worked extremely hard on. The painting is a connection of what they BOTH love: DnD, and it includes their friends who also play the game. It's very personal and immediately touches Mike. What's more is, the painting illustrates the exact qualities about Mike that Will loves: his leadership, his bravery, his guidance. This painting literally spells out to us that Will truly loves Mike for WHO HE IS.

Meanwhile, El plans on giving Mike a fun reunion date. She has the whole day planned out. And immediately: we see that what she wants to do doesn't actually takes Mike's interests and personality into consideration. You can see and hear the strain in his voice when he talks about "burritos for breakfast" 😬

You can see how he's not that relaxed at rinkomania, and nervous about skating, saying he's clumsy. He probably would've much preferred movies and playing a board game, over skating. But El has her own ideas. When she brings Mike to rinkomania, she tries to act really cool about it. She wants to impress him, wants to seem like she fits in and belongs.

Her present was never actually ABOUT Mike, and about loving Mike that she would plan this huge date for him. Her present was about her desperately wanting to have this cool date like every other normal teen girl might, with a normal boyfriend, and make it seem like they have a happy perfect relationship.

And then finally we reach their S4 fight. I find it extremely interesting how Hopper's cabin is framed in the background during their whole fight. It's almost like an indication that her desperate need to be loved by Mike stems from her trying to cope with losing Hopper and the hole left by him, that clearly did not exist when she happily dumped Mike in S3.

In their fight, when the topic of bullying comes up, Mike says he understands her, but El is quick to say he doesn't. She thinks Mike doesn't understand her, but this is just as much her not understanding HIM as well.

She doesn't get the extent of Mike's insecurities (definitely partially a result of bullying), something that Mike later divulges to WILL and not her. If the writers wanted to show us how much El understands Mike and loves him for who he is, her and Mike would work through his insecurities in their rs together, NOT through a middle man.

Overall it's pretty striking that we've never once heard El actually compliment Mike, or articulate, or even show what exactly she loves about him through four whole seasons. I mean...

Attachment to him due to trauma or grief =/= loving him for who he is.

Wanting to BE loved =/= loving him for who he is.

So really in terms of a relationship, what El ACTUALLY wants is the concept/idea of a regular boyfriend, and a happy easy relationship, all in an attempt to feel normal. And that's why we see them fall apart the way they do in season 4, and why Will is currently so involved. Because Will DOES see and love Mike for exactly who he is.

[lair-of-platonic-yanderes]

Platonic yandere step father Diluc has so huge potential... Just imagine he and his teen! step child. Like to bring a kitten from street. Something like that. My English is bad sorr

Fluffy companion

Platonic! Yandere! Step-father! Diluc Ragnvindr x GN! Teen! Step-child! Reader

Description: You were in a bad mood. You wanted some company.

Diluc didn't like, that you had a bad mood. He tries to make up for it.

Warnings and tags: OOC. Platonic Yandere. English is my second language. Unpleasant Donna. Diluc is married (somewhat). Diluc's spouse's (Reader's biological parent) gender aren't specified. Reader's biological parent are a lousy parent. Child abandonment. Arranged marriage. Discussion of arranged marriages. Long backstory. Lumine is Traveler. Attempt at worldbuilding (arranged marriages in Mondstadt, CPS in Mondstadt). Diluc's age aren't specified. Implied blackmail, murder, robbery.

_______

Sometimes, people of Mondstadt didn't look at you. They had to make themselves to look at you. And then, they would not.

The "would not" part was almost the same in all cases. They would look above your head, at the ground, at the birds, at Barbatos's statue. Anywhere, but not at you. Someone would even ignore you talking to them, forcing you to repeat your words again and again. Well, perhaps, such people want you to yell to get their attention, so they could call you a disrespectful brat, complain to Master Diluc and get you in trouble.

But, before "would not" part, came a "look". And "looks" were different.

~~~~~~

Moco's and Hillie's looks were curious. In the worst way possible. They were looking at the source of gossip, when they looked at you.

You tried to shield away their whispers, focusing on a book.

"So... Are they a part of the Ragnvindr clan or not?"

just focus on a text

"No one knows... They weren't officially adopted..."

on a text

"Really? Well, it explains what I heard about their upbringing..."

text

"Tell me..."

please, stop talking about me

"Discuss your poorly done work, you lazy gossips!" Adelinde was livid. "Get back to work!"

A pair of maids quickly strode off, looking with fear at the Head Housemaid. She turned towards you.

Her look was full of pity.

"[Y/N], are you okay?"

You nodded. You weren't, but you don't want to discuss it right now. Adelinde didn't believe you, but decided to drop the subject.

"[Y/N], can I ask you for a small favor? Can you go to "Floral Whisper" and get decorations? They are supposed to be ready."

You immediately put your book down.

"Of course, Miss Adelinde!"

She gave you a small smile. She held a basket towards you.

"Here. For carrying them."

You took the basket and were ready to go, when Elzer called for you.

Elzer's look was full of sorrow and guilt. His gaze didn't linger, choosing to look at the owl statue.

"[Y/N], can you, please, bring that bottle to Master Diluc?" He pointed at the bottle on his table and turned around, showing, that he won't speak to you again.

You quickly put the bottle in your basket to leave the manor, heading to Mondstadt City.

~~~~~~

People from the Winery were, mostly, fine.

Citizens, on the other hand...

~~~~~~

Getting decorations would be a fine task, if Flora was there. She was kind. She looked at you.

Unfortunately, she wasn't here. But Donna was.

She was the worst. And that days she will be even worse.

"Hello. I am here to get commissioned decorations."

Your voice was loud enough to be heard. Yet Donna didn't react, choosing to look at the Quinn's stall. You waited. You repeat your words again.

"Please, can I have decorations? Are they ready?"

Donna didn't answer. But she spoke.

"Such a shame, that Windblume Festivals and Ludi Harpastum lost a lot of charm during last two years. Especially for a young maiden."

She gave you a quick side-eye. A very angry side-eye. You flinched, but repeat.

"Please... The decorations..."

Donna groaned, tear off the basket from your arms, took a box with Master Diluc's name on it, that was full of small flower decorations, and dumped the contents in the basket.

"Here. Be on your way."

You clenched the basket and walked off.

It has been going on for the last two years.

Young and unmarried were borderline hating you.

You were a constant reminder, that the Uncrowned King of Mondstadt was married.

_______

______

Mondstadt was beautiful that days. Well, it's not like Mondstadt wasn't beautiful in any other days. But, no one would disagree, that during Windblume Festival, capital city would become especially beautiful.

"Angel's Share" tavern has surprisingly a lot of free tables for a Windblume Festival.

Right now, on the first floor, Lumine spotted Nelson and Payne, both were sitting on their usual spots. She and Paimon were occupying a table on the second floor, and were the only ones up here. Lumine and Paimon were enjoying their berry juices, when Paimon noticed someone else.

"Look, Lumine, there is a kid down here!" Paimon pointed a finger at the first floor's corner. It was hard to look at it from duo's spot (and if Paimon didn't float a little bit higher, she also wouldn't spot the kid), so Lumine had to stand up.

In the far corner, there were a teen. They sat at one of the tables, looking before them. A basket full of flower decoration were standing on the table before them. They looked deep in thoughts. And very sad.

What was conserving, is that there also was a bottle of wine on the table.

Paimon float closer to the railing, taking a better look at the bar counter.

"Charles isn't here. Do you think they steal the bottle?"

Lumine and Paimon glanced at each other. They have never seen an underage drinker, and they knew, that people of Mondstadt are very careful with drinking age. But, everything can happen.

Lumine and Paimon hurry to the first floor.

They didn't notice, that two more people walked into the tavern.

"Hi! Happy Windblume Festival!" Paimon waved her hand, trying to get teen's attention. Lumine smiled.

"Happy Windblume Festival!"

They almost jumped, and turn their head towards them. A solemn look returned to their face.

"Oh... Hello. Happy Windblume Festival." teen looked uncomfortable. They chew their lip. "Do you... need something?"

Paimon float forward.

"Paimon's name is Paimon. And that's Lumine!"

Lumine waved.

"Nice to meet you." Traveler cast a sneaky glance at the bottle. It still was full. And wasn't open.

Teen nodded. They didn't say a word. Paimon continued.

We just saw you here alone. In a tavern..."

Teen slammed both hands against the table. Their voice trembled. It looked like they were on a verge of crying.

"I have the right to be here! I didn't do anything wrong!"

Lumine raised both of her hands.

"Calm down, please, we didn't mean anything bad!"

"Oh, is our Honorary Knight harassing kids?"

Lumine could hear a smirk in Kaeya's voice. Calvary Captain slowly approached them. Diluc was silently walking beside him. Kaeya ignored Lumine and Paimon, instead focusing on the teen.

"Sad, [Y/N]? Want to have a hug from your uncle to make you feel better?" Kaeya opened his arms, inviting [Y/N] for a hug.

"Uncle?! Kaeya? Master Diluc?" Paimon and Lumine asked in unison. Diluc didn't answer immediately. He walked closer to the teen and awkwardly pet them on the head. After that, he finally answered.

"I am married. [Y/N] are my child."

"What?!" Paimon squeaked. Her eyes sparkled with interest. "Master Diluc is married? Who managed to win his heart?"

Lumine looked as interested as Paimon.

Duo failed to see an uncomfortable look on Diluc's, Kaeya's and [Y/N]'s faces.

_____

Everyone in Teyvat know, that Mondstadt is a city of freedom. So, people would assume, that arranged marriages in Barbatos's land are forbidden.

People, who think like that, aren't mistaken, but, they also aren't completely right.

Marriages, that are arranged only for the sake of getting a hair, are banned. Here, parents can't sell their children into what can be called a slavery.

However, marriages, that arranged for establishing new business connections, for helping to Mondstadt, for making lives of both families better, are still legal. As long as parents discussed everything with their kids, there should be no problem with a consensual, mutually beneficial arranged marriage of Mondstadt's citizen.

On multiple occasions, Crepus spoke to Diluc about arranged marriages.

First time, he explained in the smallest details, in what situation he will consider arranging a marriage between Diluc and another person. Crepus also promised not to think about arranging a marriage, and doing it only as a last resort.

Second time, Crepus talked to Diluc and Kaeya at the same time. It happened few years after Kaeya was adopted into a clan. Crepus explained, that Diluc and Kaeya, despite both being part of Ragnvindr Clan, have different "fiancé" values. Diluc was more valuable, as future head of a clan. However, marriage with Kaeya will let someone have a higher title, without getting the hardest responsibilities of the clan members. Crepus gave a permission to hit anyone, who would discuss Diluc's and Kaeya's value as possible husbands.

The third time, Crepus discussed with Diluc reasons for agreeing to a marriage.

Of course, not for getting an heir. Diluc should find someone he loves, to have children with. And, Diluc should be careful about having kids in an arranged marriage. If one day, they decided to get a divorce, Diluc and his spouse won't deal with traumatized children.

Think twice, before agreeing to a marriage to help Dawn Winery. It would be better, if Diluc will deal with business problems with his own power.

It's a good reason to help Mondstadt by marrying a possible ally. And, as usual, it should be Diluc's decision.

Getting married to help someone is a noble cause. However, Diluc should be careful about who he helps.

Crepus Ragnvindr never insisted on Diluc getting married. He never tried to arrange a marriage for him or Kaeya. Master Crepus just wanted his sons to be happy.

Diluc didn't think about having a spouse.

Not before Crepus's death.

And, he wasn't thinking about getting married after Crepus died.

Perhaps, it was the end of Ragnvindr bloodline.

_________

Diluc was sitting beside the fireplace, deep in his thoughts, when someone, who were standing behind his chair, coughed. He looked behind him. Elzer was standing here, looking exhausted and slightly guilty. Diluc raised an eyebrow.

"Elzer? Is something wrong?"

Elzer take a deep breath, before he spoke. He was speaking slowly, carefully choosing his words.

"It's complicated... Master Diluc, let me start with this... What I say next in no way, shape or form is a request, a plea or an offer." Elzer take another breath. "An old... acquaintance of mine has some problems. Many years ago he helped me with some serious task, so I have a small debt. So, to fulfill it, I agree to pass his message." Elzer looked at Diluc again. "I am simply delivering a message."

Diluc remained quiet. Elzer was always professional and collected, when he talked to him. Seeing him in that state wasn't something Diluc expected to ever see in his life. Diluc nodded to encourage Elzer.

"I understand. Please, continue."

Elzer sighed, rubbed the bridge of his nose. He even slightly lumped forward. He looked... tired.

"Will it be strange for me to say, Master Diluc, that I was hoping that you wouldn't listen to me?" Elzer asked rhetorically. The next second, Elzer spoke again.

"My old acquaintance is from Liyue. He is from one of the smaller noble families. He is facing some serious troubles." Elzer looked into the fireplace. Diluc could swear, that, for a moment, Elzer hopped, that fire would escape the fireplace and either burned him, or his mysterious acquaintance with troubles.

"He has two children. And older one messed up. Badly." Elzer, once again, spoke slowly and carefully. Diluc decided not to interrupt him. Better gave him as much time as he needs. "Twelve years ago they disappeared. Or, perhaps, they just decided to travel. Their father refused to elaborate. It's not that important. What's important, is that Older One returned a few months ago. With a spouse and a child. New made grandfather was delighted. Until the first family dinner."

Elzer rubbed his temples. This time, Diluc decided to ask a question.

"What happened?"

Elzer answered immediately. With every world, Elzer's voice became more and more irritated.

"Older One got drunk. And confessed, that they did something to... They trick their spouse into... Dear Barbatos!" Elzer was almost growling at that point. "That idiot confessed, that twelve years ago they were sabotaging protection and contraceptives, so their child would be conceived and born. They wanted their spouse to always be with them. They used the child to chain their spouse to them." Elzer became silent. Diluc waited. Elzer voice was tired.

"Their spouse weren't happy about it. They asked for divorce. And disowned [Y/N] on a spot."

"Their own child." Diluc wasn't asking. There was no need for it. Still, Elzer nodded.

"The word about the whole situation get outside the family. And now their reputation is in shambles, they are loosing their wealth. However, there is one way to fix the situation. To marry a younger one to a good family, to someone outside Liyue. That's why they asked for help."

Elzer looked at Diluc with a guilty expression.

"Master Diluc. They asked me to deliver their proposition. Fourth of their future income, partnership with Dawn Winery, base for gathering information in other nation. In return, they ask..."

Before Elzer could finish, Diluc spoke.

"For me to marry the younger one."

Elzer nodded.

"Yes. But, as I said, I only was asked to carry a message. I never promised them an answer, or an agreement."

Diluc looked at the fire.

"I understand... Never thought, that I would get such an offer."

It was a messy situation. And none of Diluc's business. He should just reject this "offer".

However...

"The kid... How they are doing?"

Elzer shrugged.

"I can't tell for sure. "Happy" grandfather mentioned his kids and himself, but hardly spoke about [Y/N]. But, I can guess, that they aren't in a good place right now."

There was no doubt in it. Kid lost everything in one moment. And, it was unclear, if they have someone, who weren't busy and can reassure them.

Crepus did mention, that helping someone through arrange marriage was a noble cause. It would be a good deed, to help a kid. By marrying their relative.

Diluc turned his head towards Elzer.

"Can you, please, arrange a meeting? I want to talk to them."

______

Meetings went surprisingly fine and productive. Diluc counted at least five times, when his "future father-in-law" was ready to bow before him.

It was concerning, that there was hardly any interactions between him and his "future partner". But, as Diluc can see, that all family members were focusing on salvaging what remains of their family's connections. They didn't have much time for a small talk.

The contract was made.

Marriage will end, when the family establish themselves in a different nation and will be able to have a normal income, that will let them live and not survive.

Diluc can ask for divorce anytime he wants.

Cheating is punishable with divorce.

Diluc and future generations of Ragnvindr Clan will get all support family can give them.

Diluc's property and finances were secured, he shouldn't worry about losing them during divorce.

It wasn't relationship. It won't be a fairy tale romance.

It was a business relationship. That, hopefully, would help people in bad situation.

_______

There was no need for a wedding ceremony. They could just go to the Cathedral and have a small ceremony. Just two of them. No guests, no feast. Nothing.

They could just sigh a contract in Liyue. No guests, no feast. Nothing.

But Diluc felt bad. He wanted to let his future partner have at least a celebration.

And all went downhill.

Wedding started with a scandal.

He said his wow.

And they start screaming.

Accusing him of being a monster. Of taking advantage over their sorrow. Of being a virtue.

Soon, the whole family was screaming at each other.

Younger one refused to get married.

But the contract was signed.

And Liyue citizens value contracts. Heir of family should marry Diluc Ragnvindr.

That day, the wedding did happen.

Diluc and Older Sibling got married.

And Diluc became [Y/N]'s step-father.

_______

It was evening.

Diluc was checking on the vineyard. His mood was sour.

His "spouse" were an unpleasant person. They spent days pitying their previous marriage, they disrespect his workers and ignored [Y/N]. The kid were eleven, their family was destroyed, their parent disowned them and second parent didn't pay attention to them. Moreover, every time Diluc tried to talk with [Y/N], his attempt would be shut down with a "Don't you dare to parent my child, Diluc!"

And now, Diluc has loosed all chances to help [Y/N].

His "spouse" wanted to help their family in establishing a new life in a new region. So, they left in the morning, right after Diluc left for a Mondstadt city. Diluc didn't have a chance to say goodbye to [Y/N].

Vineyard was quiet and peaceful. Only sounds of wind were heard...

"ACHOO!"

Diluc froze. Which of his grapevines caught a cold?

Diluc looked down, after he heard rustling of the grass. Red eyes met with [e/c] ones.

[Y/N] were shivering. They looked tired and hungry.

"Sorry, Master Diluc... I don't know if I am allowed to stay in the Winery! I will leave if I..."

Diluc shushed them.

"We will go inside. Adelinde will prepare a warm bath for you. We will have dinner."

________

Year passed.

[Y/N] were living with Diluc. Live was more or less normal.

Diluc can't say, for sure, when exactly he started to think about [Y/N] as his own child.

Diluc didn't think twice about hosting a birthday party for them.

But, one problem remained.

[Y/N]'s biological family.

Mondstadt laws about abandoned children were simple.

Child abandonment was a crime.

However, there was also an "Exception".

If the child in question had guardians, caretakers, and their distant parents can be reached via mail, in that case, it won't be viewed as an abandonment.

Currently, only Alice's and Klee's situation was considered an "Exception".

Alice treated that arrangement seriously. She spoke to Knights, nuns, her old friends and even Diluc's staff, making sure, that her little girl won't be left unsupervised. Alice was always reachable. Jean could write a letter to her, and Alice would respond. And would return to Mondstadt, if situation calls for that.

Was it a good solution? Maybe not, but no one would dare to call her a "bad mother". She did her best to care for Klee and fulfill her responsibilities for Knights.

Diluc's and [Y/N]'s situation shouldn't be an "Exception".

Diluc has no reason to let [Y/N] stay. He could just divorce their parent, who were nowhere to be found and who refused to contact their child.

There were no reason for Diluc to keep being involved with them.

But, Diluc knew, that he was the only one, who cared about [Y/N].

Two months after [Y/N]'s twelfth birthday, Diluc filled necessary paperwork.

Now, there were two "Exceptions" in Mondstadt.

________

While Kaeya was keeping Lumine's and Paimon's attention on himself, Master Diluc leaned towards you.

"Are you okay?"

You nodded.

"Yes..."

Master Diluc pat you on a head again.

"Are you sure?"

You could lie again. Like you lied to Adeline. But Master Diluc wasn't Adelinde.

"Moco and Hillie were gossiping again. Donna was rude. Grandfather and others... still didn't write."

You missed Diluc's dark glare.

"Don't pay attention to them. They aren't worth it." Diluc saw, that his words didn't work so well, and you still were upset. He should find a way to cheer you up. But he still was busy and can't spend time with you. And you barely have any friends in Mondstadt. Adults knew about your family's behavior and were suspicious of you. They thought, that your situation was your family's ploy to get into Ragnvindr Clan. And kids tend to mimic parents' behavior, so, a lot of kids and teens ignored you. Still, Diluc didn't want you to spend the whole day in the tavern on in the manor. He took a heavy coin purse, full of Mora, from his pocket, and gave it to you.

"Hey... [Y/N]. Take it. Have some fun. Play games, eat a lot of treats. At the end of the day, we will go home together. Deal?"

A faint smile appeared on your face. You took the purse.

"Thank you, Mister Diluc."

You still have troubles with calling him "dad". Well, can't have everything at the same time.

You left the tavern. The basket and the bottle remained on the table.

_______

You were bored and lonely. You were sitting on a bench, munching on a Hash Brown.

Food was delicious, but you weren't that hungry to eat for a whole day.

Most of the games weren't interesting to play by yourself.

You wish you had some company.

Something soft rubbed against your legs. You looked down and saw a fluffy ginger kitten. You always wanted to have a kitten, but your parents didn't let you, and you still were nervous near Master Diluc to ask for a kitten.

"Hi... Are you also alone?"

The kitten meowed, rubbing against your leg. You slowly reached towards kitten. He sniffed your hand, before bumping it with his forehead.

It looks like, you get a company you wanted.

________

The workday was finally over. Master Diluc and you were on your way home. You had your kitten with you. He was hidden. 

It was wrong to sneak in an animal. But, you wanted to keep the kitten.

"[Y/N]... Are you hiding something?" Master Diluc looked unamused. You tried to give him an innocent smile.

"No, Mister Diluc. I am not hiding anything."

Diluc skeptically looked at the suspicious bungle under your shirt. 

"Really?" Diluc flatly asked, pocking the bungle. One offended "meow" later, and a ginger kitten climbed under your shirt and sat on your shoulder. You were busted.

"Master Diluc... Cookie played with me today... I thought..." You swallowed your words under Diluc's gaze.  

"Today we will give him a bath and feed him. Tomorrow we will go to Margaret and ask for advices on kitten care." simply stated Diluc.

You looked at him with wide eyes.

"You mean... You are fine with me having a pet?" 

Diluc ruffled your hair.

"Why I should be against it? You could have asked for one long ago."

 You didn't know, what got into you. But you hugged Diluc, kitten was still on your shoulder.

 "Thank you do much, dad!"

 Diluc let your words sunk in. He put his hand on the top of your head. Diluc's lips barely moved.

 "You called me... dad." 

 You froze. You tried to get from the hug.

 "It was an accident, I didn't mean..."

 Diluc's hand pressed you against his chest in an awkward hug.

 "That accident... It will make me really happy, if you start repeating them more often."

 ________

It was middle of the night.

Diluc was patrolling Mondstadt City. Right now, he was observing, how Donna got in serious trouble.

Windblume Festival tend to lure criminals. People, who were trying to get their hands on something valuable.

Quite stupid and gullible people. Who believed an anonymous note about maiden from flower shop having some rare expensive jewelry at home.

Donna will be terrified, and her house will end up completely messed up.

Darknight Hero should probably help her.

But, she was so rude to Darknight Hero's child. 

That should be a lesson to her.

Diluc will make sure, that the rest of Mondstadt won't be damaged.

He had a busy evening.

He helped [Y/N] take care of Cookie.

He had a strict talk with maids. Reminding them, that they should do their job, and not gossip about his child. And reminding them, that he has connections, money, and he knows where their families live.

He had dinner with [Y/N]. [Y/N] called him "dad" a few more times.

 Last time, Diluc was that happy, was when he got a letter on [Y/N]'s thirteenth birthday.

From his allies from underground intelligence network. 

About a successful operation to get an intel on Fatui.

Unfortunately, they arrived a little bit late. There were casualties. 

A certain noble from Mondsdat became a widower.

To keep the network safe, that casualties should be hidden from the public.

Diluc was patrolling Mondstadt City.

And his thoughts were focused on [Y/N].

On how Mondstadt view them.

He could easily put the end to all rumors.

He could make Mondstadt citizens accept [Y/N].

He didn't do it.

It’s probably for the best that no one else tries to be friendly with them. Diluc wouldn’t want to see [Y/N] break out of that shell they were forced in, after all. As long as they are like this, he will be their only source of comfort. 

Their father.

[stevieschrodinger]

So here we have Eddie Munson, wild child, irresponsible Omega.

Gets himself knocked up, because of course he does. Isn't even sure who the Alpha is.

Eddie Munson; father to an hours old pup. Eddie Munson is still in highschool because he fucked senior year royally. He lives in a one bed trailer with his uncle that is not, in any way, equipped for a pup. Eddie Munson who already has an arrest record and is quite clearly still slinging drugs on the side.

Absolutely not; CPS takes his pup before she's a day old.

Eddie Munson rails against it, screams about it, cries about it, has a fucking come to Jesus moment with himself at three in the morning and he's still wearing the godamn stupid pants from the hospital because his ass is leaking and his tits are sore and god dammit he's getting his pup back.

He sells the last of his stock the next day, drops highschool and job hunts like his life depends on it. Still needs a place that's not the trailer; no one will rent to an unmated single Omega. He won't get his pup back as a single Omega.

Enter Eddie's best friend: Jeff. More importantly, Alpha Jeff. Who does Eddie an absolute fucking solid and agrees to move in with him. So they do. And they pretend to be a couple to get Eddie's pup back.

Unfortunately, Steve Harrington has seen it all before and sees through them in about thirty seconds flat. They even have two bedrooms and one is clearly Eddie's and one is clearly Jeff's and they confidently lie to Steve's face and tell him they had a friend stay last night, that's all, this will be the pups room.

There's an actual crib in Eddie's room already; Steve doesn't say shit.

Because the thing is, Steve's fostered pups from actually abusive homes and neglect ridden situations, and this isn't that.

And the few times he sees Eddie and Jeff together, pretending to be a couple it's just...painful. Jeff puts his arm around Eddie one time and Eddie actually pulls away instinctively,, a 'what the fuck is this?' expression clear on his face until he realizes and makes himself sink back into it.

They tried to hold hands one time. It almost turned into a thumb war.

Eddie might be lying through his teeth, but he's a desperate Omega who just wants his baby back. So Steve starts the process, signs off on the supervised visits, and spends eight weeks watching Eddie Munson be the best parent anyone could hope for.

Inconveniently, Steve spends those eight weeks falling in love.

And they go on like that, until Steve bumps into Jeff and his girlfriend somewhere, and Jeff fucking panics and drops the girls hand line it's on fire, and the girl gets the most offended fucking look on her face and it's everything Steve can do not to burst out fucking laughing. And Jeff is trying to sputter an explanation which is turning his girlfriend incandescent with rage, "you said you were just friends! Is that your pup??!"

And Steve is actually frightened for Jeff at this point because this girl looks like she is ready to start throwing down so Steve has to just admit, that he knows. He's known right from the start.

Eddie nor Jeff can't lie for shit.

And he talks the girl down, "so Jeff is actually a really great guy, he's just been trying to help Eddie get his pup back," and the girl melts at the story.

Eddie doesn't. Eddie fucking freaks out. Thinks he's about to loose his pup all over again.

But Steve has an alternative suggestion, and it starts by asking Eddie "what are you doing this Friday? Can I take you to dinner?"

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3

Summary: A series of mishaps has you and Eddie (and Grandma and Harris) in the same place at the same time, leading Eddie to let his guard down a bit. That is, until a secret is spilled.

Warnings: angst, Eddie is really mean to Reader, injuries (nothing bloody or gory), mostly set in a hospital, mentions of Eddie's dad, mentions of CPS, Reader's grandma has Alzheimer's, slowburn, strangers to enemies to lovers, angst, Eddie is 30, Reader is 28, no use of y/n

WC: 6k

Chapter 3/20

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

“Har-Bear?” Eddie calls out from the bedroom, pinning his nametag to his shirt. “You tie your sneakers yet?” His son had insisted that he didn’t need help with the laces, that he could do it on his own, but he’d be late for work if he waited any longer.

“Not…yet!” the tiny voice yells back, and Eddie can sense the frustration in his voice. “I think they’re broken.”

“Broken, huh?” Eddie laughs to himself as he walks out to the living room, where Harris is sitting in front of the door. Sure enough, his shoelaces remain untied, and tears roll down his cheeks. “C’mere, bud. It’s okay. I can tie ‘em for you this time.”

Harris shakes his head, brown curls bouncing on his scalp. He mumbles something unintelligible, and when Eddie bends down to help him, he pushes his hands away.

“Harris, enough!” Eddie hisses through gritted teeth, taking the laces and tying them quickly. “You know that you have school and Daddy has work.”

“B-b-but I’m the only one!” Harris wails, kicking his shoes off defiantly. Eddie picks them up with one hand and scoops up his son in the other, tipping towards the couch and hooking his pinky around Harris’s little backpack. He doesn’t have any time to waste; shoes will have to be put on at school. 

Maybe Ms. Sweetheart will have better luck with him, Eddie thinks wryly, wrangling a screaming Harris down the stairwell. 

“The only one what?” Eddie asks once the crying starts to subside.

“I’m the only–sniff–one at school who–hic–can’t tie my shoes!”

Eddie wrinkles his nose as he places a shoe-less Harris in his carseat. “I’m sure there are other kids who are still learning how to tie their shoes.”

“Nuh-uh,” Harris protests, straining against the seatbelt. “All the other kids tie their own shoes, but Ms. Sweetheart or Mr. Will have to tie mine.”

Eddie’s heart sinks as he thinks of his son being the outcast as the freak, the rest of his friends flying past him as he gets left behind. “Tell ya what,” he says finally, mustering up a smile, “I’ll teach you, and you’ll be able to tie them in no time.”

His offer placates Harris, who spends the rest of the time singing along to the radio. Eddie wishes it could always be like this; happy and carefree, just driving and listening to his favorite metal station with his mini-me. Maybe one day it’ll happen, but the fleeting sense of hope disappears as quickly as it comes. His time with Harris might be limited if he doesn’t get his shit together.

The job was a start; he was lucky that the hours coincided with school drop-off and pick-up so he didn’t have to reach out to Wayne. He’d been working at Rock Records for about a week, and while it was a far cry from the stardom he’d once dreamed of, it was paying the bills and still allowed him to spend his time around music. And when his manager–a twenty-year-old named Ash who used her phone line to talk to friends rather than answer store calls–heard that he plays guitar, she’d all but insisted that he give lessons. If he could get Wayne to watch Harris a few days after school, that would be even more money in his pocket.

But, first, he actually has to start talking to his uncle again.

He pulls into the preschool parking lot, killing the engine and hopping out to help Harris from his carseat. When he opens Harris’s door, he immediately deflates.

“Harris, where is your jacket?” Eddie asks, heaving an exasperated sigh.

The little boy just shrugs. “I dunno. At home?” It’s not his fault; the chilly early October air just began settling in, and he’s not accustomed to including his jacket into his morning routine. A look of realization creases his brows, another tantrum on the horizon. “Now I won’t be able to go out for recess!”

“Hey, hey,” Eddie says reassuringly, shrugging off his own denim, patch-riddled jacket, “you can take mine.” It’s comically oversized on Harris’s tiny body, but the smile on his face is enough to distract Eddie from the chill settling on his own arms.

“Daddy, now I’m just like you!” Harris sticks out his tongue and makes the ‘rock-and-roll’ symbol with his pointer and pinky fingers, scrunching his big brown eyes shut.

Eddie laughs, taking his son’s hand as they cross the parking lot. The way he copies him is adorable, but there’s a sinking feeling in his stomach when he pictures Harris actually following in his footsteps.

As soon as he enters the school, Harris lets go of his father’s hand and bounds into the classroom, the jacket dragging on the ground like a regal cloak. “Ms. Sweetheart, look at my jacket!” he proudly announces, twirling around on one leg. “It’s my daddy’s!”

You smile, crossing your arms over your chest as you shake your head teasingly. “Harris, is daddy wearing your jacket?”

“Nooooo,” he says, jutting out his chin and giggling. “It’s too small, silly!”

Eddie shuffles in behind him; after a month of drop-offs, he’s realized that he’s never going to win the battle of getting Harris to walk beside him in the hallway. “Don’t forget your backpack, little dude,” he reminds him, handing him his bag and motioning towards the row of cubbies.

Nodding, Harris hangs it up on the hook, along with Eddie’s jacket. He starts to run towards the toy area, stopping when he hears you call out, “Harris…”

“Huh? Oh, right.” He flashes that innocent smile, slowing his pace to a walk.

You shake your head knowingly, grabbing the clipboard with the sign-in sheet from your desk. Wordlessly, you give it to Eddie, who takes it with a sigh. This is how it goes most mornings: he drops off Harris, scribbles his signature, and stalks off without so much as a “good morning.” It’s not ideal, but it’s better than the barrage of insults and snide comments that he seemed to prefer to greet you with.

He drops the clipboard on top of the cubbies with a clatter, turning to the door, but the sound of a child shrieking stops him in his tracks before he can leave.

“Harris, no!”

Eddie’s stomach turns at the way the little girl angrily shouts his son’s name. Harris is frozen in place, holding a weird contraption that Eddie doesn’t recognize. The boy’s lower lip trembles, and all Eddie wants to do is pick him up and yell at the other kid for making him cry, but you get to the scene first.

“Abby, Harris, what happened?” you ask, crouching down to their eye-level. There’s no accusations, just a soothing tone to de-escalate the situation.

“He took my Bop-It!” Abby pouts, stamping her foot in frustration. “He stole it from me!”

Eddie feels his fists clench involuntarily at the word stole. Harris would never steal. He was a good kid, and having the Munson name didn’t automatically make him a thief. He tries to send a telepathic message to Harris, willing him to stand up for himself, but it doesn’t work.

You eye the toy in Harris’s hand–the Bop-It in question, you assume–and meet his shy gaze. “Did you take Abby’s toy?” Again, your voice is free of judgment, and Eddie allows himself to relax ever-so slightly when you don’t automatically take the girl’s side.

“I just wanted to see it real quick!” Harris mumbles, shoulders slumping. “I was gonna give it back.”

“What should you do when someone has something that you want to see?” you prompt him gently, feeling Eddie’s eyes scrutinizing you, analyzing your every move you make to see how you’re treating his son.

“I don’t know,” he answers honestly, eyes wide and misty.

“You have to ask them and then wait for them to say yes,” you say, and he nods as you swivel to face Abby Carver. “Abby, if someone forgets to ask to see your toy, you can remind them nicely. With an inside voice.”

“But he didn’t even say sorry for stealing!” she whines.

“It was an accident,” Harris rebuts, scrunching up his nose, “an’ I didn’t steal it!”

Breathing out a soft sigh, you turn back to him to end the argument before it can really start. Hell hath no fury like a preschooler scorned. “Saying ‘sorry’ is important, even when we accidentally make someone feel sad or mad,” you tell him. 

“‘M sorry, Abby,” he says, handing her back the Bop-It. You can’t help but notice the way that he tucks his free hand into the pocket of his jeans, just like Eddie does when he’s anxious.

“It’s okay, Harris,” Abby says flatly, eager to flounce off to her friends and show them her toy, as Harris quietly joins some of the other boys to play with building blocks.

You press on your knees and stand up, finally allowing yourself to glance over at Eddie. He gives a tiny nod of acknowledgment; so subtle that you would’ve missed it if you’d blinked. You’re not exactly sure what it means–thanks or good job or simply I’ll be back for pick-up–but he’s out the door before you can think about it further.

You really should have seen it coming. Should’ve listened to the proverbial alarm bells ringing when you’d heard the shower running. But you were exhausted from a long day at work; the Bop-It situation having kicked off a series of arguments between various groups of kids. At one point, you and Will had given up on storytime and basically played referee, just trying to keep the peace between tiny feuding humans.

You’re scraping the last bits of unfinished mashed potatoes into the garbage when you hear the crash. There’s a clatter of bottles and the pop pop pop of the shower curtain ripping off of its rings. Your blood runs cold and you nearly drop the plate you’re holding, palms suddenly slick with sweat.

“Grandma?” Your voice catches in your throat, a hoarse whisper, and you clear it and try again as you fly towards the bathroom. “Grandma?!” 

There’s no answer; between the steady pounding of the shower and her own declining hearing, you expected just as much. You push open the door that she thankfully left unlocked to find her laying in the tub, tears mixing with the stream of water. She cradles her left wrist in her right hand, mumbling inaudibly to herself between heaving sobs.

“Grandma, what happened?” you ask, leaning over to finagle the knob to the “OFF” position.

She looks up as if she’s just realized you’re standing there, too disoriented and focused on the pain to take in any of her surroundings. “I fell.”

You reach for the powder blue towel hanging on the back of the bathroom door and pluck it off of its hook. “Here,” you say, draping it over her shoulders, “let me cover you and I’ll help you up.” It seems absurd to worry about modesty, given the urgency of the situation, but you can tell based on her sheepish demeanor that the small part of her that still feels shame is pinging in her brain. You tuck your hands under her arms, lifting with your knees and hoisting her to her feet. “Grab the bar,” you instruct her, nodding your head towards the silver safety bar lining the shower wall.

“Can I dry you off?” She gives a small nod, letting go to hold her swelling wrist. “Keep holding onto the bar. I don’t want you to slip and fall again.”

“But it hurts,” she whimpers, and you know this will be a losing battle. Even if she does agree to grab onto it again, she’ll almost certainly forget, and you'll have to start the whole process over. Instead, you carefully run the towel over her, watching as the cloth soaks up droplets and trying not to think about how backwards this all seems. There was a time where she was the one drying you off, lifting you out of your little bath seat in the kitchen sink and cooing at her beloved baby granddaughter, hope and joy filling her eyes. A time where life seemed limitless, and maybe she’d started to slow down, but she’d sworn that she’d always remember this moment. She couldn’t even imagine forgetting you.

Grabbing the pile of clothes from their spot on the tiled floor, you find her shirt and offer it to her. “I can help you put it on,” you tell her, toeing the line of preventing another fall and respecting her dignity.

Grandma’s lips curl into a frown and she shakes her head. “Those are dirty,” she protests.

You squeeze your eyes shut, willing yourself to grasp onto the last bit of patience you have left. The words, You didn’t even go anywhere today rests on the tip of your tongue, but you swallow them down, force a smile, and say, “Okay. Let’s get you to your bed so you can sit down, and we’ll pick out new ones.”

She reluctantly agrees to this, and you slowly walk her to the bedroom and grab the first of everything you can find. A fuschia t-shirt and green sweatpants might not be her best look, but you’re not trying to style her for a runway show. After sliding her fluffy pink slippers over her feet, you help her up and guide her to the door, where she stops in her tracks.

“Can’t wear these outside,” she says simply, pointing to the slippers.

“It’s okay,” you reassure her, grabbing your keys from the small table tucked in the corner. “You can wear them outside this time.”

She doesn’t budge. “No, I need my other ones.” Her gaze lands on the pair of white Reeboks resting on the shoe rack. She starts to lean over to take them, but she’s still unsteady on her feet, and you wrap your arm around her torso before she can wobble.

“Just…just sit,” you mutter, feeling anger rise in your chest like a thundercloud. It wasn’t her fault that she was being stubborn, but it didn’t quell the burning frustration. You toss her rejected footwear to the side, silently reminding yourself to pick it up later, and shimmy her feet into the sneakers. You tie the laces into a double knot, pulling nice and tight, determined to keep it from unraveling.

Eddie’s day at work wasn’t much better than yours. After dropping Harris off at school, his first customer had been a middle-aged woman who claimed that a record had been scratched when she’d bought it a few weeks ago, insisting that Eddie had sold it to her that way. Which could have been the case, except he’d only started the job earlier that week. 

All he wants now is a nice cold beer, but he has to wait until Harris goes to sleep. Years of watching his own father guzzle down Johnnie Walker until he fell into a drunken stupor led him to promise never to drink in front of his son. 

“Bedtime, buddy!” he announces. He doesn’t even have to pretend to be excited; the second Harris dozes off, he’s going to crack open that Coors Light and watch the most mind-numbing show on TV. 

Harris throws his head back in exasperation. “But Daaaaadyyyy, I’m not even tired!” His whine pierces Eddie’s eardrum, making him grimace. 

“It’s 7:30, and it’s a school night,” he tells him, keeping his voice as steady as possible. “But tomorrow is Friday, so you can stay up a little later then.” He walks over to the tiny dresser pushed up against the wall, pulling out the bottom drawer and taking out a pair of dinosaur-print pajamas. “C’mon, let’s go. Pajamas, pee, and brush those teeth.”

“I’m…not…tired!” Harris screams at the top of his lungs. His cheeks flush beet-red, and spit gathers at the corners of his mouth. 

Eddie clenches his fist around the pajamas, feeling his fingernails dig into the soft cotton. He inhales for three, then exhales for three, feeling the oxygen flow through his lungs. “Harris,” he manages through gritted teeth, “I’m going to count to five. And when I’m done, I want you doing your bedtime routine, or you’ll go to bed early tomorrow.” He takes one more deep breath, getting to two before Harris angrily snatches the pajamas from his grip and stomps off to the bathroom. 

The boy only brushes his teeth for a grand total of ten seconds, but Eddie doesn’t have the stamina to argue about oral hygiene tonight. Tucking Harris into bed, he leans in to kiss him on the forehead, but he’s met with the back of his head. 

Logically, he knows that there will come a time where Harris won’t want a kiss good night, won’t need his dad to help him into bed. Eddie just hadn’t planned on it being tonight. 

“I hate you.” Harris’s voice is muffled from his lips being smushed into the pillow, but Eddie received the message loud and clear. It reverberates in his brain like an echo in a tunnel: I hate you I hate you I hate you. 

Eddie backs out of the room slowly, flicking off the light and closing the door. He forgoes the shitty TV and sits in silence as he sips on his beer, letting the bitterness seep into his tongue before he swallows. 

The venom in Harris’s voice was unmistakable. Eddie knew all too well how it felt to hate a parent. That raw anger swelled within him each time his father got them thrown out of another apartment, or conveniently forgot to pick up groceries (but always managed to remember his booze and drugs), or put his hands on Eddie. 

My son hates me, Eddie thinks, taking a last swig of his drink and absentmindedly wiping the foam from his lips. I’m a shit dad, and my son hates me. 

He’s too wrapped up in his own thoughts, leaving the sound of squeaking bed springs unnoticed until a loud thud followed immediately by the sound of Harris’s distraught wail snaps him to attention.  

“Daddy!” Harris cries out, and Eddie’s sprinting to the bedroom before he can even finish the second syllable. 

“What happened?” His voice is louder than he intends from the adrenaline coursing through his veins, and it only makes Harris cry harder. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m not mad,” he says, softening his tone as he flicks on the light. His eyes widen when he sees the way his son’s arm is twisted. 

“I couldn’t—sniffle—sleep, s-so I—sniffle—t-tried to j-jump my awake out,” Harris explains through hiccuping sobs. “An’ I h-hurted—sniffle—my arm.”

“C’mere, sshh, ‘s okay.” Eddie reassures him as he scoops him up, carefully avoiding his injury. “We gotta get you to the hospital so the doctors can fix it.”

Harris’s lower lip trembles again. “Are th-they gonna g-give me a sh-shot?”

“Nah, they’ll just have to do an x-ray,” he says, grimacing when he thinks of how much it’ll cost, even after Medicaid kicks in. “But those don’t hurt.”

Harris gives a tiny nod, still ambivalent as he nestles his head into the crook of his father’s neck. His curls tickle Eddie, who presses a kiss to the boy’s forehead and murmurs, “Daddy’s here, okay? I got you.” He feels Harris’s uninjured hand grab onto him a bit tighter as he brings him to the car.

“Can we go home now?”

You breathe out an exasperated sigh, leaning back in the chair and bouncing your leg anxiously. Hawkins General Hospital wasn’t crowded, and you and Grandma were taken to a room fairly quickly, but it still isn’t fast enough for an elderly woman who has no idea why she’s here. 

“We have to wait a little longer for the doctor to see us,” you explain for the fourth time in as many minutes. “They have to make sure you don’t have a concussion.” Your answer seems to placate her, at least until she asks again within the next sixty seconds, as she hums her acknowledgment.

There’a a soft knock on the door, and a perky blonde nurse pokes her head in the room as soon as you give her permission to enter. “Hi, I’m Chrissy; I’ll be your nurse,” she says, looking at your grandmother. “What brings you in to see us tonight?”

“I’m just here with her,” Grandma shrugs, pointing to you.

“She slipped and fell in the shower,” you explain patiently. “I know she hurt her wrist, but I’m not sure if she hit her head, and she has Alzheimer’s…” You glance at her uneasily. “She doesn’t even remember falling.”

Chrissy nods understandingly, offering a sympathetic smile as she makes a note on her chart. “I can take you in for an x-ray of your wrist, and then we’ll run some tests to rule out a head injury as best as we can, okay, Mrs…” Her gaze shifts back to the chart before she brings her attention back to you. “Do you teach at Hawkins Preschool, by any chance?”

“Guilty as charged,” you give the best semblance of a laugh you can muster.

“I recognized your last name,” she says as she helps Grandma off of the examination table. “My daughter is in your class. Abigail Carver? She absolutely adores you.”

The compliment buzzes in your chest as your smile becomes more genuine. “Well, thank you. That means a lot. And she’s a great kid, too.” Except when she’s screeching at her friends, you think, but you keep that tidbit to yourself.

“I work nights, so my husband handles the school stuff,” Chrissy explains. “But I’m glad we finally got to meet, even if it’s under these circumstances.”

She hooks her arm through Grandma’s, who promptly shakes her off. “Let go of me!” the older woman snarls, shuffling back towards you. She may not know exactly who you are, but there’s at least a level of familiarity that brings her some comfort.

“I’ll walk with you,” you offer, and Chrissy agrees gratefully as the three of you gradually make your way down the starch-white hallway.

Unbeknownst to you, in a room just across the hall, Harris Munson is showing his dad how he can hop up and down on one leg without losing his balance.

Jesus H. Christ; does this kid ever run out of energy? Eddie silently wonders, but he plasters a smile on his face. “That’s really cool, Har-Bear. Just, uh, sit down before you hurt yourself even more.”

Harris is about to pout when a nurse enters the room. She’s probably in her mid-fifties, Eddie surmises, with brown hair that’s streaked gray and pulled back in a low bun. 

“Harris Munson?” she asks shortly, and Eddie points to the little jumping bean standing next to him. “Come with me to the x-ray room.” She doesn’t offer her name, but Eddie catches a glimpse of the badge on her scrubs pocket that reads “Anna.”

Anna has Harris place his arm on the table, gingerly moving it to take x-rays from different angles. Standing in the doorway, Eddie winces at the tiny yelps his son lets out with each minimal adjustment. “You’re hurting him,” he manages through a bone-dry throat.

“If there is a break or sprain, we need to ensure that we find it,” she explains impatiently, retreating back to the room where she snaps a few more images before bringing them back to the room.

“Dad?”

“Mhm?”

“I’m sleepy now.” Harris punctuates his statement with a yawn, laying back on the examination table and dozing off just moments later.

Eddie takes his jacket–the same one that Harris wore at school that day–and places it over the boy’s sleeping body in a makeshift blanket. By the time the radiologist comes in to deliver the results, Eddie’s struggling to keep his own eyes open.

“How’re we doing in here?” she says, watching as Harris stirs, stretches his little legs, and promptly falls asleep again. “Is it past someone’s bedtime?”

“His and mine,” Eddie grumbles, wiping the sleep from his eyes and sitting up straighter. There’s a pinch in his lower back from slouching in the uncomfortable chair, and he grimaces as he tries to massage the sore spot. 

“Well, you’ll be out of here soon. It looks like Harris did break his wrist, so we’ll need to get a cast on it, but we can discharge him as soon as it’s done.”

“Brilliant.” Eddie presses on his knees as he stands up to gently shake his son awake. “Hey, bud. It’s time to wake up so you can get a super cool cast.”

“Mmph,” Harris grunts, throwing his good arm over his eyes dramatically. 

Eddie just laughs, not catching the concerned look on the doctor’s face as she flips through Harris’s chart. “C’mon, I’ll carry you, but you gotta help me out here.” Harris begrudgingly complies, wrapping his legs around Eddie’s waist and holding onto him as tightly as he can.

“It’ll only take about fifteen minutes,” the doctor explains, rubbing Harris’s back for good measure. “You can drop him off in this room, Mr. Munson. One of our nurses needs to speak with you.”

He doesn’t like the look on her face; the one that simultaneously gives away nothing and too much. Her lips press together in a thin smile, one that’s obviously forced, as an orthopedic technician guides Eddie into the next room.

The unfriendly nurse from earlier, Anna, is waiting for him outside the door. 

“Mr. Munson, could I speak to you privately?” Eddie nods wordlessly, traipsing behind her back to the room where Harris had just been sleeping.

“Mr. Munson,” Anna begins, and Eddie swears he’ll punch a hole through the hospital’s wall if she keeps speaking in that condescending tone, “as you know, ensuring the safety and wellbeing of our patients, particularly our pediatric ones, is our top priority here at Hawkins General.” She pauses, as though he’s supposed to have some response to that, but he remains silent. “Given the nature of your son’s injury, coupled with the report that a nurse smelled alcohol on your breath when you entered our facility, we have to report this incident to Child Protective Services.”

Eddie’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head; his fists clench involuntarily, and he has to remind himself to steady his breathing. In for three, out for three. “There–there must be some mistake,” he stammers. “I had one beer after Harris went to bed–well, he was supposed to be in bed–and I was well under the legal limit when I brought him here.”

Anna cocks her head, and rage surges through Eddie’s bloodstream at her subtle gesture of disbelief. He didn’t even drink when his son was awake, let alone drive drunk. And the thought of him hurting Harris, whether under the influence of alcohol or not, was enough to turn his stomach. For fuck’s sake, he felt guilty if he accidentally stepped on the kid’s toes.

“Be that as it may,” the nurse continues, and Eddie swears she’s trying to suppress an eyeroll, “I also see that there was a previous report from 1992–”

“When he was born?” Eddie sputters. “That–that had nothing to do with me. His mom…”

Anna glances back down at Harris’s chart and frowns. “It looks like both you and Harris’s mother were listed in that report.” She looks up at Eddie again. “This is out of our hands now. CPS will take over from here and determine the next steps to take.” With that, she walks away, leaving Eddie leaning against the door with tears in his eyes.

All he can think about are the custody papers Wayne gave him. The way he’d angrily torn them up, taking them as a threat, rather than an offer to help. The way he’d blamed Wayne for his life going to shit.

I hate you, Harris had said earlier that evening.

Maybe Wayne was right. Maybe Harris was better off without his dad around to fuck up everything in his path.

You’re waiting at the front desk for Grandma’s discharge papers when you hear an excited voice call out your name; rather, his nickname for you.

“Ms. Sweetheart!”

You turn around to see Harris Munson running towards you, sporting a bright orange cast on his wrist. “What happened to you?” you ask with a smile–a genuine one, this time. That little boy always manages to cheer you up.

“I was trying to jump my awake out and I breaked my wrist,” he says. “So then my daddy taked me here and I got this cast. See?” He holds out his arm two inches from your eyes, as though the neon color wasn’t already a dead giveaway.

“That is the coolest cast I’ve ever seen,” you tell him. “I broke my leg once, and I just got a boring white one.” You pout your lips exaggeratedly, making Harris laugh. “I bet all the kids in school will wanna sign it tomorrow.”

Harris breaks out into a giant grin. “They can sign it?”

“Sure can!”

He thinks for a moment and asks, “Will you sign my cast, Ms. Sweetheart?” He looks up at you with those soft brown eyes, and you feel yourself start to melt.

Before you can answer him, your Grandma speaks up. “I’m leaving,” she declares, already trying to take off the sling that the nurse gave her for her sprained wrist.

“I just need to sign you out, Grandma,” you explain. “And remember, you need to keep the sling on so your wrist can heal.”

“Fuck you, bitch,” she hisses. “I hate you.”

Your face heats up, embarrassed at her outburst and at the fact that it happened in front of a student and his parent. “I’m sorry,” you mumble, though you’re unsure if you’re apologizing more to Eddie or to Harris. “She has Alzheimer’s…she doesn’t know…”

You expect Eddie to laugh at your misfortune, but when your eyes flicker to his face, you only see sympathy.

“‘S okay,” he says softly, putting a ringed hand on Harris’s shoulder. “I feel like swearing, too, after the night we’ve had.”

You offer a weak smile, still processing the unfamiliar kindness that he’s showing. “Thanks,” you manage, just as the receptionist hands you the discharge paperwork. “I’ll see you both at school tomorrow?”

“And you can sign my cast!” Harris exclaims, flashing a toothy grin. “Promise?”

“Promise.” You ruffle his hair, leading Grandma out to the car before she can conjure up another slew of swear words.

Eddie wakes up the next morning still exhausted. He rolls over, catching a glimpse of Harris still sleeping soundly in his racecar bed. He’s tempted to let him sleep in a bit, maybe take the day off from school, but he knows how badly he wants Ms. Sweetheart to sign his cast.

Ms. Sweetheart.

He’d been thinking about you all night. The way your calm, confident demeanor had faltered when your grandma cursed at you and said she hated you. The way you caved in a bit, as though her words had punctured you.

You hadn’t reacted like that when Eddie called you a bitch; you’d simply carried on as though the words meant nothing to you.

Because they did mean nothing to you. Because he meant nothing to you. He was just another drop in the douchebag bucket, and once you’d gotten over the initial sting of rejection, you’d moved on. And so had he.

Right?

He tries to shake these thoughts from his mind as he gets Harris ready for school, but it’s nearly impossible when all the kid can talk about is how he saw Ms. Sweetheart at the hospital and how she’s going to sign his cast today.

“She’s the bestest teacher I’ve ever had,” Harris tells Eddie, shoving a spoonful of Cheerios into his mouth.

“She’s the only teacher you’ve ever had, buddy,” Eddie reminds him, but Harris remains unfazed.

Sure enough, you’re waiting outside the classroom door, black Sharpie in hand. Harris’s eyes light up when he spots you.

“Ms. Sweetheart! You remembered!”

“Of course I remembered,” you say, uncapping the marker and crouching down to his level. Both Eddie and Harris watch intently as you write your signature, complete with a little heart.

Ms. Sweetheart ♡

“Go ahead and unpack,” you tell Harris. “Once you finish your morning routine, we can have your friends sign it, too.”

“Okay!” He starts to run, but crawls to a stop. “Gotta use my walking feet in the classroom.”

You give him a thumbs-up, turning back to hand Eddie the sign-in sheet.

“I’ll be damned,” he chuckles, shaking his head incredulously. “I’ve been trying to get that kid to slow down since he learned how to run. Swear to God, he skipped right over the ‘walking’ stage and went straight to sprinting.”

You laugh at his remark, taking the clipboard back from him. “Try the walking feet trick. I’ll let you borrow it, free of charge.”

“Much appreciated.” He starts to leave, but stops before he can fully turn his back to you. “How’s your grandma, by the way?”

His kind gesture catches you off-guard, but you recover quickly. “Already giving me a hard time about the sling, but that’s the home health aid’s problem until I get back.”

Eddie steps forward, awkwardly resting his hand on your upper arm for just a second. He’s not exactly sure what he’s doing, or why, but it felt like the right move. “Well, uh, good luck. With the whole ‘sling’ fiasco.”

“I’ll need it.”

He smiles, and you easily return it. It’s an olive branch, one that you eagerly reach out and take. It’s not much, but it’s more than he’s ever given you.

Eddie’s walking back down the hallway, feeling as though a weight has been lifted off of his overburdened shoulders, when he hears it:

“...reported to CPS. Apparently, this isn’t the first time it’s happened.”

No. No. There’s no way that they could be talking about him.

He rounds the corner towards the school lobby to see Carol Perkins talking to Steve Harrington, her hushed whisper not soft enough to prevent other people from hearing.

“What?” Steve asks.

“Yup,” Carol nods. “Something about when he was born? Like, how bad of a parent do you have to be to get reported to CPS as soon as your kid is born?”

Eddie feels the bile rise in his throat. His suspicions are further confirmed when she adds, “And get this–he was drinking when he brought Harris to the hospital. That’s why I’ll never let Frankie play at his house.”

There’s no way he can just walk past them and act like he hadn’t heard anything, so he decides to wait until they finish their conversation. They made him sound like some sort of neglectful alcoholic who disregards his son’s safety. They made him sound like his dad.

As Steve and Carol say their goodbyes, Eddie takes one last glance back towards the classroom. You’re cheerfully greeting an adoring student, ruffling her hair like you did to Harris at the hospital last night.

Eddie sucks in a quick breath. You were there last night. You were also in the orthopedic wing, as evidenced by your grandma’s injury. You had been humiliated in front of him for the second time; the first was when Eddie hadn’t called you after the one-night stand. And now you wanted revenge.

No wonder you were so friendly this morning. This whole time, you were just waiting for him to slip up. Waiting for him to have his moment of weakness. Now he knows better than to trust you. He won’t make that mistake again.

--

@littlepotatobeansworld @kelsiegrin @lma1986 @munsonology @stuckontheceiling @avobabe87 @eddapwinchester @peachysink @definitelynotecho @browneyes8288 @jeremyspoke-inclasstoday

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[weareweirdpeople]

Maybe its just me but I think its really fucked up that the only way teachers can "help" a child is with cps and the fucking police. I think its really fucked up that they're constantly talking about "tell a trusted adult" when sometimes you just don't fucking have one. Because all of them were bad options. I think its fucked up that my, and many many many children's only fucking options have been tell someone and put everything in danger or do nothing and continue on in silence. I think its fucked up that even without saying it I had to start understanding that no matter how kinda a teacher, or counselor, or school staff member was to me at times, that they would never put me over them being held liable or their job. I would never be that important. They get to pat themselves on the back while I get put in handcuffs and put treated like an example of what not to do as if im not even there. I think its really fucked up that at a certain point it will never matter how nice a teacher is, no matter how many "I know it sucks...." or "I'm sorry but it's my job..."s or "I don't want to have to do this..."s you get, because its always the same fucking thing. Your a liability, and no adult is going to risk their job with a child that they could easily just hand to someone else more 'qualified' to handle.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for screaming at my adoptive parents at 2am?

I (16F) don't think I'm doing anything wrong but my parents seem to be getting frustrated so let's see what Tumblr thinks. For context, I love my parents and they love me very much. We are a very affectionate family and spend a lot of quality time together. My parents do their best to make sure my every need are met, but sometimes their best isn't good enough. They feed me two meals a day and leave out enough snacks that I have plenty to eat during the day. However, we recently moved and our new house came with a rat problem. My parents "claim" that they can't leave me snacks because the rats were eating it and it encourages them to keep coming into the house. However, the result of this is that I wake up in the middle of the night *starving* with no food to eat. I try to inform my parents of this (by screaming until they wake up at 2am) but they just tell me to go back to bed. They REFUSE to give me more snacks until breakfast. They also told me if I really want to have snacks out all night I could chip in and help, but they had most of my teeth removed when I was 14 (long story, but the teeth were causing pain and had to go) so I really don't know what I could do to help.

Like I said, I don't think I'm doing anything wrong. A lady has to eat after all! And they're being very rude denying me food when they KNOW the food I like is kept in cabinets I can't reach. They don't get mad at me, but last night I may have woken them up 7 times, and by the last one they sounded pretty exasperated. AITA? If it helps you make a decision, they wake me up during my naps ALL the time.

What are these acronyms?

[bellewintersroe]

Hey, there! I have a BoB headcanons request that is a bit angsty/heavy so if you don’t feel like doing it, I completely understand! I was just wondering how the easy boys would go about trying to comfort a reader with guilt/trauma from either killing a German soldier (like Winters when he shoots that one SS soldier) or not being able to save a fellow soldier if you’d like to go the nurse route. I’d just love some Winters and Eugene comfort!! Thank you!🫶

Heyyy so sorry for the slow reply!! Thank you, this is such a good request!!! I’ve combined both your ideas for the diff guys- I hope you enjoy!

Tw - talks of death, guilt, trauma, ptsd, war, etc.

BoB Headcanons - How they comfort you

Eugene Roe:

As a fellow medic, Gene understands completely what you’re doing when you start shutting yourself away.

After leaving Bastogne you didn’t actually think things could get much worse, but when you lose Jackson in the dingy basement in the middle of Haguenau - let’s just say you don’t take it well.

“It woulda’ happened anyway… it’s not your fault.” Gene would remind.

You’d sigh with a heavy heart and attempt to leave any kind of confrontation.

“Gene you weren’t the one assigned to take care of them. He died under my watch, I didn’t do good enough.”

Not only are you heavily burdened by Jackson’s death, but you’re also exhausted and cold and hungry. Gene at first would watch from afar with a furrow between his brow until enough was enough and he confronted you.

He’d find a way to pull you back in, he’d wrap blankets around your shoulders when you’re just sat staring into space. Or he’d force Hershey bars into your pocket, practically begging you to eat.

“It’s my fault.” You’d tell him.

Gene just takes the honest route, he knows that’s better than blatantly trying to soften the blow with anything else.

“Jackson woulda died anyway. I saw what happened and… you could’ve tried everything n’ he wouldn’t have made it…”

If you need him to go into technical medical talk he would. He’d do anything, he’s the type of guy to sit talking with you for hours.

Huge empathetic so cannot stand the idea of you being troubled by this or taking the blame.

If the two of you aren’t already together then he’s a little more careful to not overstep boundaries, but he 1000% keeps the blanket wrapped over your shoulders in place by holding it there with an arm over you. Even if his hand is freezing.

Dick Winters:

It maybe happens around Bastogne? You happen to fire at the Germans and when you guys go look after, one of them is just a kid.

Let’s say he’s nowhere near older than twenty, still in his teens, and you’re absolutely horrified from the second you find this out.

It makes you freak tf out and the men bundle you back to the line pretty fast, they all know what it feels like, that guilt ravishing them alive. And Winters especially understands the exact thing you’ve been through.

I feel like he’d find out pretty fast, the two of you are in a private relationship that can’t be openly shown out on the field.

He’d take a sensible approach, despite being oh so worried.

Has you come sit in his and Lewis’ tent at CP.

Would offer you a drink, food, another coat, new boots, worries that you need feminine products? Idk the man just wants to take care of u ok.

When it comes to it and you say no to everything he simply sits besides you and just looks over your face.

Then he opens up about Holland and how he shot another soldier, just a kid. It’s relatable and the feelings he talks about are exactly what you’re experiencing.

If you get upset he can’t engulf you into the hug he wants, but he deffo squeezes you with an arm around you, encouraging you to know this isn’t your fault.

Extremely mindful of you for the following days after. If you wanna go off the line then he does that, if you wanna go for a walk then he makes somebody’s with you at all times.

Super super emotionally intelligent and would support you through anything.

Joe Liebgott:

Probs walks into the quiet aid station all loud mouthed and hollering about something irrelevant. He knew you were on shift tonight with one other nurse who’s occupied upstairs in the building. Your arrival in Austria luckily called for a lot less gruesome wounds and gory deaths- but every now and then, someone slipped through your fingers.

Your head snaps up, away from the patient who lay still before you. Your eyes are full of tears and at the sight of Joe, you begin to sob.

“What is it-” immediately goes to run forwards, but then he clicks when he noticed the bloodied man below you. Your hands are covered in crimson, trembling and it’s smeared all over your uniform.

Realises pretty quick what’s happened.

“I couldn’t save him, Joe.” You wept. “Nobody came to help.”

Understandably Joes first reaction is to throw a fit that nobody else was here to help you- but then he takes in your broken expression once more and remembers where they were. Things like this just happened out here.

“Okay, baby.” He’d sooth, approaching you as carefully as possible. He’d take your hands in his and meet your gaze. “Let me help you.”

You can’t tell me that he wouldn’t be the biggest sweetheart ever?

He’d wash your hands for you, rubbing his thumb gently over each patch of skin, then he’d get help from another medic, a little pissed that nobody came to help. After that he’d tell whoever’s in charge you’re done off shift and take you back to your room (screw fraternisation rules, Joe doesn’t follow them, not when it comes to you).

He’d pretty soon find out that the guy on the table had a burst artery, whilst he’s undressing you from your stained uniform, he’d tut to himself gently.

“Somethin’ like that happens n’ they’re gone. There wasn’t anything you coulda’ done.”

“No but- I could’ve tried! If somebody helped then I could’ve done it! We’re not in Bastogne anymore I should’ve been able to help!”

“Y/n, you know you can’t think like that.”

Wouldn’t allow it for a second that you blamed yourself, it physically pains him that you’re sobbing and shaking, Joe holds you close and just lets you get it all out, feeling pretty revengeful for whoever left you alone that night.

“It’s all my fault, Joe…”

“No… no, sweetheart. C’mere, the guy was a dead man the second he got hit..”

The best with comforting you with words, if he needs to be a little harsh to get it through to you that it’s not your fault he will- but he won’t allow it for a second that you take any form of blame for this.

It hurts him to know it’s hurting you.

[luffyrose]

We're back with another dc x dp, coming to you this time on my phone while hang in off the back of my couch. Is blood rushing to my head? Yes.

Either way, I had a random thought about how personally as a child, I was a little monkey, like if my parents had actually had the thought to put me in gymnastics I would probably be a menace to society. And so my thought was, what if Danny was like that too?

Danny had always been very hyper, like, bounce of the walls, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING ON THE FRIDGE-" kind of hyper. When he started to climb, hang, flip, and just about break something just to have some fun, Jazz finally tried to get their parents to sign him up for gymnastics.

They didn't.

Both had been very happy at the idea, but when it came down to it, they just forgot. And one time without actually paying attention to the two, said gymnastics was for girls, ultimately shattering Danny's budding hobby. Jazz of course didn't just let that dream go, instead finding anything she could to let him learn on his own, at the very least, she made sure he was capable enough to pick it up in his teenage years should he finally get a chance to take classes.

That didn't end up happened either.

He'd died, become Phantom, accidentally become Crown Prince of the Infinite realms, and now had to deal with superheroes realizing that something was up in Amity. More specifically, a credible news reporter finally came to the town and settled the real or not debate in one swift "WTF IS THAT-" upon seeing a giant robot hunter thing(it was Skulker).

Along with all that, his parents, or more specifically his mother, was finally noticing something was wrong. Almost two years after he died, she finally took a second to look at him, and was disturbed. So Danny, being optimistic as he can be, tries to tell them, which goes horribly wrong and ends in a lab explosion and Danny 'stuck' in the Ghost Zone. Really Jazz blew the portal up after reaching her own breaking point and immediately called CPS on her parents since Danny was never gonna come back to them.

Danny all ouchy, there goes my parents because the two destroyed their blood bond by intentionally aiming to harm him instead of the weird loophole they'd been in before. Clockwork being Clockwork yeets him over to Gotham, giving Jazz a note about it.

Over in Gotham, he's actually thrown right from a portal in the aky hurdling down toward one of the city's rogues. Whoever it is, the Batfam are like "wtf-" at the clearly confused child that suspiciously looks like they're one of the Waynes, and so they just take him back. Doesn't help that they're worried since he just got thrown from who knows where and definitely did not take that fall well- also doesn't help that he's clearly bleeding and severely injured.

Danny, after Alfred forces him to rest from injuries, is so hyper. His hyperness had gone into his vigilantism, so now with nothing to deter it, he was going crazy and he felt so stiff.

Cue one of the sibkings walking in to find the kid hanging dangerously off something and just going "hi". Dick has a new favorite(not really he still loves all his siblings the same...maybe Damian and new kid are a smidge higher, but they're younger so it doesn't count).

When he takes the kid to the gym in their house, he is literally running around and getting onto everything. Now Dick has accidentally acquired little acrobatic brother that he's determined to help out with getting better.

Best part, Danny doesn't even realize the others are like "welp he's family now" and is just thinking they're very nice for being rich. He doesn't trust Bruce too much though, sure rich people's mids could be chill(take Sam for example) but parents themselves were iffy.

No one knows how to react to the truth bombs he randomly drops without even realizing it either.

Dick, watching Danny haning upside down from a bar for the last like 10 minutes: whatcha doin buddy?

Danny: thinking about my parents.

Damian, who's also been watching the whole tome but would never admit it: Your parents?

Danny, yeeting himself off the bar with no sense of self preservation: yeah, they told me they'd sign me up for gymnastics. Never did. Claimed it was only for girls. Although I think that was the same day our oven came alive on accident and almost set me on fire so...they were pretty distracted.

Dick, staring in actual horror for many reasons: What?!

Damian, also horrified but not showing it as much: Your oven came alive...?

Danny, who still isn't paying attention and already having forgotten what he said: how do you do that thing you showed me earlier?

[teriri-sayes]

Reactions to Crazier Bastard's Chapter 307

Brief summary: Exion explains how Neo became abnormally stronger. Cale's group discuss their plan on how to deal with Neo.

==========

Neo was said to have become stronger after becoming the Purple Bloods head. When Exion asked how he did it, Neo replied there were two ways:

Break away from your mind's limits

Inheritance

The first method was difficult. If Exion applied it, it would be like this: Exion thought that the land he could control with his Earth attribute was only the size of his lair. But if broke away from his thoughts limiting him, the land he could control would be the land of the entire world.

The problem was that was easier said than done. Yes, you could think that, but could your body handle it? Or did you have the talent to do it?

So Neo chose the second method, inheritance. The hunters did something to him that allowed him to "inherit" the powers of numerous past dragons who possessed the Time attribute too.

Of course, there was a problem with that too, similar to the first one. Neo got tremendous power, but his plate remained the same, so his body weakened and his plate began to crack. Neo was so angry at the wanderer after that happened, so he decided on going to the New World to resolve his weak body problem. But seriously, Neo got scammed... 🤣🤣🤣

Moving on, Cale revealed his plans on how to deal with Neo:

Enter Neo's lair and destroy the "control point" that stopped the time of all the powers/energies of the world

Once the time of the powers of the world flows again, it would cause another period of upheaval in Aipotu

Cale would use his powers something to "imprison" Neo, and Eru would then beat the shit out of Neo, looking for gap so that he could strike the heart

Cale reassured Raon that if their plan succeeded, there would be no need for them to overexert themselves (or Cale using Instant). But Cale, you saying that is a flag... 🚩🚩🚩 I mean, you still haven't told us how to make that prison. How will you control the space and time to create a prison for Neo? Some power-up you gained from destroying the time prison that confined the WT? Do you have any abilities besides Instant? Or will the source of the world help you again?

Cale and Eru talking about beating Neo up like it was nothing though... 😂 And the WT trembling and Aipotu residents taking a step back from Cale after hearing that... 🤣🤣🤣

Ending Remarks Cale's talk with Exion ended, but what about his talks with the CP people? Did that get skipped? DHB naming scene and Cale telling Ron the truth scene kept getting delayed too. Next chapter would be the beginning of the Dragon Lord raid. It seems like the author is now speedrunning the end of this arc. Hopefully, those two scenes gets resolved before the end of Aipotu arc.

[colubrina]

How I Got My Agent, Take Two

I’m so ridiculously over the top happy to say I’ve signed with a literary agent to sell my magical bookbinder book.  This has been a long process that started in 2017, and I’m genuinely overjoyed.

It played out thus:

Write book one.

Write book two. Query the book.

Write book three. Query the book.

Write book four. Get into Pitch Wars with the book. (Yay!) Query the book.

Write book five. Get into Author Mentor Match with the book. (Yay!) Query the book.

Write book six.

Write book seven.

Write book eight.

Write book nine.

Get a Revise and Resubmit offer from an agent for book five. Do it.

Start querying book six.

Get an offer from the R&R (Yay!)

Write book ten.

Book five dies on submission.

Start writing book eleven.

My agent and I amicably part ways.

Start writing book twelve.

Finish querying book six.

Query book ten.

Start writing book thirteen.

Go back to book eleven.

Go to a live pitch event. Pitch book eleven to two agents. Neither likes it. One asks what else I’m working on, and when I do the one sentence pitch for book twelve, says, “I could sell that.”

Pivot to finishing that book.

Query book twelve, sending queries first to four agents who only want queries and who are actively requesting off those queries. Get a 75% request rate. Query is fire. Check.  Unfortunately, every agent rejects when they see the opening pages, which turn out not to be fire.

Revise opening

Resume querying book twelve.  In case you’ve lost count, while this is the twelfth book I’ve written, it’s ‘only’ the seventh I’ve queried.

Finish drafting book thirteen in NaNo. Revise. Send to CPs.

Have existential crisis on a Tuesday. Meltdown on Tumblr. Weep in my living room. All my books have failed.  I do not know how to write a better book.  Maybe I should give up. This turns out to be a very well-timed dark night of the soul within the narrative.

Get two full requests for book twelve on Wednesday.

Get an email telling me one of my short stories has been held for consideration on Thursday.

On Friday get an email that the woman who handles submissions for one of those agents from Wednesday loved the book but she doesn’t think it’s a great fit for the agent I queried.  Would I mind if she forwarded it in-house to a different agent?  In shocking news, I would not mind this. 

On Monday, get an email asking for a call.

On Wednesday, which is Valentine’s Day, have a call with the agent.  She’s lovely in every way, her thoughts on the book are so good, every editorial idea she floats is good. Like, really good.  She is super enthusiastic about repping the book and offers to do so.

There is an etiquette requirement at this point that I tell any agent who has the book that I have an offer on the table and give them two weeks to respond, so I go around nudging all the agents with a full (four people) and several agents who only have a query. Three more agents request fulls. The rejections start trickling in.  People are very sweet and complimentary, and I am deeply, deeply relieved that I never waver from how much I adore the original offering agent.

I sign with her on February 29.

Final stats for Book Twelve (THE ARCHIVE OF THE WORLD):

Total Queries Sent:  39 Requests Before Offer: 8 (20.5% request rate) Request Rate Including Post-Offer Requests: 28.2%

Year I Started this Nonsense:  2017 Total Queries Sent across 7 books:  456

Takeaway wisdom:  The query trenches are a soul-mangling machine into which we all keep putting our souls and most of us don’t make it out unmangled.  I am not unmangled. BUT, I am a persistence hunter, and I will walk steadily towards publishing until it lies down in exhaustion and gives up.

Thanks for hanging out with me as I do.

Also, this book is so much fun.  You’re going to love it.

[nyashykyunnie]

Oki so I saw tjat you were open to brajnrots so I hope you enjoy them urbjdbfk sorry if it's long but I need to get these out before I go insane sibddnjdjdb 😅😅

I kinda think that Jinwoo would tease the hell out of their partner if they start getting super flustered after their second awakening, ESPECIALLY if reader was with them pre-awakening and was kinda shy woth affection before too (shout out to my shy peeps akbdjbd) ofc he's respectful about boundaries but it doesn't mean he enjoys how cuter his s/o has become wjbdjdnd Not only that, I think Jinwoo would definately use their new height and stregnth to his advantage too! Like if his s/o was taller and could lift him before when hugging, what stopping him from picking up his s/o to cuddle now?? Mf has the audacity to be smug to 🙄🙄

I think he even finds his s/o' weight on him incredibly comforting, especially with the fact that his s/o trusts him completely no matter how he's changed. This is especially so if his s/o knows how terrifying he is as a hunter, and is not phased in the slightest

(Jinwoo has jumped from E to S-rank. Having to fight his way up tooth and claw, doing whatever he has to survive. A man that even monsters fear. Here? He's just Jinwoo. nothing more nothing less. Safe and content with s/o acting as his guiding light during his darkest of hours. Before, he was worried how he couldnt protect his s/o's happiness when he was an E-rank. Now? He finally has the stregnth to protect them and his family, and will do so with everything he has)

Acheivement unlocked: Jinwoo's s/o has now become his weighted blanket sjdbudnd

Jinwoo pissed after a raid, eyes glowing purple, emitting an aura that even scares his shadows: The world is harsh and cruel.... Jinwoo 10 min later, eyes normal, deadly aura gone, cuddling s/o with his head nestled into s/o's shoulder: s/o soft and gentle.

Wdym he can't have his lovely s/o on his lap while he's on his rare breaks in the privacy of his own office??? Unless there is a s-rank dungeon suddenly appearing or an emergency, this man will be enjoying his BREAK.

Don't get me started on his shadows too sksbudbj. I think it be funny if his shadows also start acting like puppies for s/os affection too. Yeah sure they can absolutely decimate enemies but to their Monarchs beloved, theyre lovable guard dogs. (I think that they would be even more charmed If s/o is actually aware how dangerous they can be but still treats them so kindly)

Jinwoo would also get secretly jealous if his shadows gets the privilege of using his shy! s/o's lap as a pillow too (kinda like how a small pet sits on their owners lap or large dogs put their heads on their owners lap for pets too). Especially if its BEFORE he gets the privilege to abdjdbdnkd

I bet once this man gets a taste of using s/os thighs a pillow , he is a changed man. Brain alterd. dbjdbd

The man's personal heaven? His head nestled into s/o's lap with their fingers running though his hair. If his s/o stars humming? Man's purring in content.

(Anyways, if you read it, thanks! I hope it makes you feel a fraction of how happy I feel when I read your works ajbdjdb)

Cheer,

//Warning: kyunnie having a mental breakdown over Jinwoo NO BECAUSE I GENUINELY THINK JINWOO'S LOVE LANGUAGE IS BEING A TEASE!!! HE'S A BIG OL GRUMP AND AWKWARD BUT I GEN THINK HE LIKES TEASING BY TOUCH!! YOU CAN TELL WITH THE WAY HE INTERACTS WITH JIN-AH LIKE SQUEEZING HER FACE OR PINCHING HER CHEEKS IT TELLS A LOT!!!! I GOT THE IDEA OF A TOUCHY JINWOO JUST BY SEEING HOW HE ACTS AROUND JIN-AH AND KYYAAAAA PRE-AWAKENING RELATIONSHOIP EBHJGRWFE!!!!! I LOVE THAT IDEA SM BECAUSE THERE'S A CERTAIN POETIC ROMANCE TO IT WHEN YOU'VE SEEN YOUR BELOVED AT THEIR LOWEST POINTS AND LOVE THEM UNCONDITIONALLY REGARDLESS!! My fave novel of all time is tgcf and there's a whole interactions between the main cp like this!! “That person saw me at my worst", Hua Cheng said. "Then I'm very envious of that", Xie Lian replied.” IF IT'S A SITUATION LIKE THAT IK JINWOO'S ATTACHMENT WOULD GO BEYOND THE ROOFS AND HEAVENS!!!! Jinwoo would first be oblivious to his sunshine's(reader is giving me sunshine vibes, and I love sunshines sm) at first but he slowly started noticing from the jumpy reactions and the shy expression!! He'd test out the waters by his body language likelike purposely moving closer to reader unexpectedly, grasping hands, lightly brushing a finger on their ear— And when he confirmed his suspicions he went "Oh?" like lIKE HOLLYY SIJJDBE WN CFEAAAAA KGGRAAAAA!!! HE'D BULLY THEM A LOT AND CHUCKLE EVERYTIME HE CATCHES SUNSHINE READER GO BBRRRR BRAIN LAG WHHEEEE PRINCESS CARRIES USED TO BE A DISTANT DREAM NOW JINWOO CAN DO IT ANYTIME HE WANTS!! HE EVEN LETS THEM SIT ON HIS ARM PERCHED SO CUTELY LIKE THIS!!! IT GETS READER SO FLUSTERED THEY HIDE THEIR FACE ON HIS NECK AND HE'S LIVING FOR ITT!!!!

(Source: How to win my husband over) BUT WE CANT FORGET THE JINWOO THAT GETS TIRED AND ALL PISSY AFTER DEALING ITH GATES!! Ik our boi gets annoyed over some sht but he doesn't voice them out most of the time!!! His best therapy is when he has reader cuddled up on his lap or him laying his head on their while they tousle their hair around. I Genuinely think Jinwoo's soft/sensitive spots are on his head!!! Fingertips brushing across his scalp tickles him in a pleasant way that he just goes Zzzzzz..... Jinwoo is the type of boyfriend that looks so expressionless and stiff but put his lover and his eyes immediately turn into the most gentle lovestrucken-fool look in an instant that whoever witnesses it thinks their lives just flashed before their eyes because wth the hunter coULD DO THAT KIND OF FACE??????? HELLLOOO!!!! I am an intj simp and coincidentally I have so many intj husbands that I did not ask for but goddamn the consistency. The patten I see with INTJ's ik is that they love acts of service!!! From brushing your hair away from your face, holding their hand out to you so you wont get lost, instinctively doing something to help you WITHOUT EVEN REALIZING. And my god, they have the most MOST INTENSE EYE CONTACT EVER!!!! Jinwoo has proven that side in the manhwa I do not need to pull up panels for this surely YA'LL KNOW WHAT I MEAN PEOPLE. If Jinwoo is whipped, HE IS WHIPPED!!! He mostly keeps a straight face BUT CANNOT CONTROL HIMSELF FOR HIS BELOVED( lets be fr he doesn't intend to in the first place he's that downbad and I love it mWAH) Cuddle session breaks with sunshine reader is a must if not he will wreak havoc in the office or the gates or something WHEEZE OMG THE SHADOWS WHAKJSDEQBKWEF, HE'S A PETTY BASTARD I TELL YOU!! HE'S CHAOTIC AS HELL!!!!! HE DEF THROWS BERU AN EYE-ROLL WHEN HE GETS PATPATS FROM SUNSHINE READER AND IT ENDS UP WITH BERU HAVING A MENTAL BREAKDOWN ITS SO SILLY JWHNFWEPIOEJFND, HE MAKES HIM DO FOREHEAD ON THE FLOOR PUNISHMENT 2 DHWEJAFKE HE'S A PETTY BASTARDDD!!!!! HIS BIGGEST RIVAL IS TANK BECAUSE HE IS THE FLOOFIEST BOI IN THE SHADOWS AND IT JUST MAKES JINWOO GO INTO A TANTHRUM ITS SO SILLYYY!!!! AFTER THE WHOLE SULKING WO GOES TO SUNSHINE READER'S LAP AND GRUMBLES LIKE A TODDLER!!!! Also the thighs man, he had done it once in E-rank days nEVER MOVED ON I TELL YOU, THAT'S WHY I KEEP SAYING LAP SINCE EARLIER WHAHDHWGR. The first time he did it he felt like he was thrown into heaven literally and figuratively he's such a silly simp AGAIN YES, JINWOO'S MOST SENSITIVE SOFT SPOT IS HIS HEAD!!!!!! OUR SILLY LITTLE FLOOFY BASTARDD!!! He purposely messes his hair up so sunshine reader would be forced to fix his hair, and when they look away he begins ruffling his hair up again for more attention— ALSO EARLIER U APOLOGIZED FOR MAKING SOMETHING LONG BESTIE DON'T I MADE IT LONGER IT'S OKAY DON'T FEEL BAD DAFOHLJMWLEJDNM Also owejii uueeee, now I'm all shy and flustered aisupohdjqbl,emfdn AAAAee ee er w ddw sakjlsdlafrgshdf I'm so glad it makes u happy uueeeeeee, I honestly just write for myself but I'm glad it makes you happy too uueee<3333!!!!! Ty for activating my jinwoo braincells that should have beem stayed dormat anywei!! (They never rlly sleep anyway i just keep them in my head)