#the little one is Hendrix

[baconandvibrators]

Y’all my bestie’s partner is a vet tech and they have 3 dogs and now 2 cats and this summer has been just so many animal cuddle puddles and I could not be living my best life anymore than this

[ickypuppi3]

i like to imagine billy’s mom in that childhood au to be someone who wears colorful clothes and has every room in her house be a bright color because it makes her happy, who dresses billy in colorful clothes too and encourages him to express and stand up for himself, who has a garden full of flowers and paints in her spare time, who has pictures of her and billy strewn throughout the house, who smokes marlboro reds and dances with billy in the living room while her records play, who loves her kid so so much and would do anything for him

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Book Haul: Consolation Prizes Edition.

So I did Not make it to the finalist round for that first page contest I submitted to last month, but I did get boba and two (2) books about it, so who's the real winner here?? These both came VERY highly recommended, and I'm excited to read them one day that's not any time soon!

[angelsforthenight]

take care of me…

ellie williams x fem! reader

cw: mdni, modern AU, sub! ellie, dom! reader, loser!ellie, established relationship, use of vibrator, cunnilingus, slight degrading, overstimulation, bush! ellie 🤑, begging, crying, cursing, sub-space, aftercare + some fluff at the end :3

WHAT IS SUB-SPACE? sub-space is an altered state of consciousness that can happen during BDSM play. typically it’s when the bottom gets all high and floaty. subs in subspace may have a higher pain tolerance, have difficulty speaking, and lose all sense of time.

“nn—nnhhh… i can’t— i can’t, y/n, please.” ellie gasps out, on the cusp of release. she feels too much, too overwhelmed by the plethora of different sensations. grabbing your hair for some sort of anchor, her jaw falls slack: pathetic whines and pleasured sobs tumbling from her lips as they melt against the loud humming of the vibrator nudged against her clit. and your mouth only keeps moving.

hold on, run that back. wanna know how you got here?

“babe, i’m not even kidding, i think i ripped out a tastebud.” ellie’s been complaining about this for the entire day, but doing nothing about it. to be frank, it’s been pissing you off a little. ellie could just as well get up and take a look in the mirror for herself, but for some reason she insists on you checking it out.

this isn’t the first time you’ve had to play doctor. don’t get it twisted, it’s cute! having to take care of your girlfriend is a gift you want to keep safe in an enclosed haven. but only when something has actually happened.

when false alarms happen one too many times, it’s only natural you get at least a little annoyed, and you’re very positive that this moment is another one of that case, yet you never seem to get enough. you set the book you were reading down, sitting up on your bed.

“let me see.” you sigh, placing your fingers on her chin, tilting her head up. ellie sticks her tongue out and to no surprise at all, there’s nothing.

“you’re kidding me, right?”

“what? no! i just hurt my tongue so bad trying to shred the guitar!” ellie says defensively.

“well then you’re stupid.” you laugh, “who the hell does that?”

“jimi hendrix does…” she mumbles sullenly, hanging her head low and so very clearly trying to make you pity her and give in. and alas, it’s working.

“stop pouting and come here.” you roll your eyes, even if there’s a hint of a smile on your lips. ellie lights up too, shuffling closer and opening her mouth again.

you scrutinise your stare. it’s a little red, yes, but that’s the entire tip of her tongue. if ellie ripped out a tastebud like she claims she did, she would have at least been bleeding a little bit.

meanwhile, ellie keeps her eyes trained on you. it’s so quiet in the room apart from the whirring fan noises and the sounds of cars driving past every now and then. she likes seeing you all focused, with your attention on nothing else but her. secretly, that’s why she’s always pestering you about meaningless injuries.

“you didn’t tell me where…” you murmur, but you leave no space for her to respond when you clamp her tongue down with your thumb and forefinger; pulling her tongue down a little further so you can get a closer look. the pad of your thumb drags across it to feel something, even if you don’t know what it is you’re really looking for. ellie’s caught off guard by this move. in fact, it projects her into this sudden state of being very aware of what you two are doing, the feel of your fingers in her mouth, on her tongue. she can’t help but fidget, getting distracted.

“don’t move.” you mutter, oblivious to the way ellie’s feeling. that firm command stirs her up even more, her breathing uncontrollably growing heavier. she tries to lock in, but with the way she’s suddenly conscious? horny? fuuuck, it’s difficult. you feel her hot breath fan against your knuckles.

“if you ripped out a tastebud then you would’ve been bleed—“ you trail off in the middle of your sentence when you glance up at ellie. her cheeks are a light shade of pink, prominent even under the warm amber glow of your bedroom lamp lights. her eyebrows are arched upwards, staring at you with this helpless look on her face. she looks so, undeniably pathetic. surprised, you let go of her tongue.

ellie looks away, wiping her mouth with her fist. you realise she’s very faintly trembling.

“ellie…” you murmur softly.

“what are we gonna have for dinner, by the way? you cooked yesterday but i’m very shit at cooking so we could order door-dash but at the same time we did door-dash the day before yesterday and the day before-before so..” she begins to ramble, clearly flustered and embarrassed. you smile.

“ellie.” you say again, taking her hands in yours. she pauses, staring at you. her chest heaves, eyes all big and yielding.

“let’s do this again, ‘kay? wanna tell me what you really want?” you say slowly, and the way your tone is soft makes ellie’s head feel foggy. she takes a deep breath, which almost sounds like a whine.

“i… um…” ellie’s always had trouble communicating what she wants. she avoids your gaze, trying to find the right words to say. she feels like a glop of slime, slowly melting. you give her an encouraging smile, brushing your thumb against the back of her palm in repeated back and forth motions.

“i want you… to, um— i need you to take care of me.” her voice crackles with neediness, urgency laced in her tone. her lips are quivering. you can tell how bad she wants this, but you can’t help but prod her some more.

“take care of you how? lots of ways i can do that.” your voice is consistently soft, almost cooing. ellie’s mind keeps on slipping into this hazy state, lips quivering and eyes half-slits.

“y-you know. i don’t have to tell you…”

“damn right you do.” you tut. “you’re gonna use your words and tell me what you want. i’m not inside your brain now, am i?” the slight change in tone makes ellie flinch, as she’d quite frankly die before disappointing you. you can literally see the cogs in her head moving, calculating what to say so that you’re able to give her what she wants and simultaneously not being bad.

her eyebrows arch again, subtly scooting even closer to you so that her knees are pressed directly against yours.

“can we… uh… like, have sex? like you touching me and stuff?” she whispers, as if somebody else could hear. you initially try to stifle in your laughter, but it slips out.

“oh yeah? how do you want it?” you giggle, amused by the way ellie’s fumbling over her words and constructing her sentences in this weird, adorable way. ellie scowls, not finding this the least bit funny.

“stop laughing at me.”

“how do you want it?” you repeat, grinning.

“i don’t know, you can do anything you want… just… please. i need to cum.” ellie groans, but it sounds more like a helpless mewl. you stare at her whilst ellie fidgets in her seat, eyes repeatedly flicking between your eyes, your lips and your lap. you can’t help but ‘awww’ in pity.

“anything, yeah? don’t hold your word against me, okay?” you raise your brows, expecting a response. ellie shudders in excitement.

“okay.”

so next thing you know, you two are kissing whilst ellie’s propped up on your lap. you’re aware of how she's grinding on you; trying to give herself flickers of stimulation. you let it happen, occasionally teasing her by bucking your own hips up. whenever you do so, ellie has a hard time kissing you back, losing composure and moaning in your mouth. it’s the hottest thing.

you pull away so you can marvel at the look on ellie’s face; quietly panting for breath whilst she stares at you with the most pliant look. so malleable it’s as if you could bend her into anything you wanted with just a command.

you smush your lips against hers again, only you’re more greedy this time: pushing forwards so you both drop onto the bed. you intertwine your fingers with hers, peppering wet kisses on her neck. the way your lips tug on her skin compiles ellie into mush, with no thoughts running through her head. she whimpers, eyes fluttering shut as her back arches, chest against chest. you continue to administer neck-kisses, leaving a few selfish marks whilst your free hand slowly inches it’s way towards ellie’s pants, tugging it down. ellie’s in her own world: wriggling free from the confines of her sweatpants as her head lolls against the pillow. next, your hand quietly reaches for the drawer. ellie’s eyes are closed, so she doesn’t realise when you pull out a vibrator with the head of a cute bear. you bite your lip, stifling in your amused excitement when you press the machine against ellie’s clothed cunt. ellie harshly gasps, eyes flying open before groaning.

“oh, i fucking hate you…” she laughs, head plopping back down, “you just had… to go for the— stupid bear one…” her words keep on getting broken up by moans slipping out.

“do you like this?” you grin. a wet spot slowly fades in the centre of ellie’s underwear. ellie whines when you heighten the setting. “yes or no?”

“yes….” ellie squeaks. “can we… t-take… aaah…” ellie’s having a hard time speaking with the vibrator flush against her. her underwear is growing wetter and wetter, outlining her vulva clearly. her stomach tightens.

“hmmmm?” ellie’s thighs twitch in delight at the sensation, back arching as she seeks out for more.

“my underwear… take it off, please.” she gasps out, her entire body buzzing. you turn the vibrator off so she has time to breathe, deciding to be nice for now: serving as a prior make-up for how much you’re going to ruin the poor girl. that’s why you do what she’s asked of you, slowly pulling off her undies. ellie shivers at the way it rolls down her legs, twitching at the air fanning her now bare cunt. your place your hand at the top of her mound, fingers spreading through her pubes as your thumb grazes against her folds, slightly opening it and watching as the juices eagerly flow out. you unconsciously lick your lips, pupils darkening. ellie watches you and blushes.

“you’re this needy? just ‘cuz of the tongue thing?” you taunt whilst ellie whines in response. you dip your head in between her legs, tongue flicking out to get a taste. “ohhhh my god, yesyesyesyes…” ellie whispers. you’re hungry, munching on her pussy like you’ve been starving for damn near weeks. ellie’s back flies off the bed, her hands desperately gripping the sheets.

“pathetic…” you mumble, and ellie moans at the way the word thrums against her pussy, sending vibrations in her entire body. her moans unabashedly rip out of her lips at the way you kiss and suck her heat. the frenzy consumes her, as her body jerks uncontrollably. to induce the cruelty, you suddenly pause: an idea flicking through your head like a light bulb.

“i’m really gonna mess you up. sorry, baby…” you murmur but ellie couldn’t care any less, so goddamn needy for release she’ll accept anything you give her. you grab the discarded bear-head and press down against her clit, the setting even higher than last time. it elicits loud reactions from ellie, helpless whimpers tumbling from her lips as she receives thrum after thrums of pleasure.

to make matters (better) worse, you resume your pussy-licking, so ellie can feel both the vibrator and your lips on her mound. ellie cries out, thighs instinctively trying to close themselves up. your hand firmly presses down on her thigh, keeping them open.

“nn—nnhhh… i can’t— i can’t, y/n, please.” ellie gasps out, on the cusp of release. she feels too much, too overwhelmed by the plethora of different sensations. grabbing your hair for some sort of anchor, her jaw falls slack: pathetic whines and pleasured sobs tumbling from her lips as they melt against the loud humming of the vibrator nudged against her clit. and your mouth only keeps moving.

you’re putting the work in, going to town on her and really fucking her up. thick tears stream down her face from how insanely good it all feels, her entire body twitching and jolting. your tongue laps strongly, whilst the vibrator is on the highest setting it can be. ellie’s bordering on becoming animalistic, letting out grunts and loud moans.

“g-gonna cum.. —cumming, i’m cumming..” ellie babbles pathetically, seldom coherent. jolting sharply, she grips your hair tightly, in which you groan from the slight pain, as you feel her warm juices flowing in your mouth. ellie pants as you turn the bear-head off, lifting your head up to glance at ellie.

you did succeed in breaking the hell out of her. there’s a heavy, dazed look written across her face; eyes glazed-over and as if she’s not really here. she looks boneless yet plush. you lift yourself up, gazing at her softly. it’s understandable she’s entered into sub-space after what they’ve just done.

“oh, baby…” you whisper, lifting her up so you two are sitting. ellie complies silently, weakly wrapping her arms around your waist and burying her face in the crook of your neck. there is no train of thought running through her head, and it’s almost as if she’s unconscious whilst fully awake. you run your fingers through her hair, kissing her head.

“my sweet girl… you did so good. so proud of you.” you whisper in her ear. ellie hums in response, burying her face even more. she’s all blissed out, liking the way the tip of your nails dance across her scalp. it makes her feel safe, but most of all loved.

hours later, when you two do end up ordering door-dash for the third time this week, ellie ends up flatly denying the state she had been in earlier.

“nope. no idea what you’re talking about.” she says, yet unable to hide her sheepish smile.

a/n: my singular contribution to kinktober 🧎‍♀️also i am a suuuuucker for sub! ellie like i was so giggly writing this!!! lmk if u were too (˶˃ᆺ˂˶)!!

[munson-blurbs]

hope you don't mind me asking but could reader adopt harris officially? it'd be a sweet little blurb ☺️

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Summary: Harris makes a special request on his birthday: for you to adopt him and officially be his mommy.

TW: mention of parental neglect/drug use, pretty much just all fluff and happiness

WC: 2.2k

A/N: Happy Mother's Day to all of the moms out there! Y'all are badasses who deserve to be celebrated. I used this video for the judge's dialogue to ensure accuracy.

February 2001

“So, Har,” Eddie starts through a mouthful of cake, “did you have a good birthday?”

Harris nods emphatically, digging into his own slice. A dollop of vanilla frosting dots the tip of his nose, but he continues eating, unbothered.

Eddie looks at you as you try to contain the inevitable mess that Hendrix will make. His chubby cheeks are already decorated with chocolate cake, and he’s only a few bites in. “Can you believe we have a nine-year-old now?”

You shake your head. The years truly have flown by, and though you haven’t had the privilege of being there for all of them, it feels as though Harris’s fifth birthday was only yesterday. 

“What’s crazy to me is that Harris is the same age you were when I took you in,” Wayne says to Eddie. He glances at his nephew, a wistful look in his old eyes. 

“Oh, yeah!” Harris grins. “I forgot you took care of Daddy.”

Eddie leans back in his seat and smirks. “Did you ever regret adopting me, Old Man?” 

“Every damn day.”

While he may have tuned out his dad and grandfather’s back-and-forth, you can see Harris pause before he continues eating. He’s never been one to stifle his curiosity, the wheels in his head turning as he processes the information. 

His time to ask a question grinds to a halt when Hendrix slams his little palm right into the cake slice, grabs a chunk of it, and smashes it into his face. If any actually got in his mouth, it would be a miracle. 

Harris gets his opportunity later that night. Eddie tucks him into bed, pulling the SpongeBob comforter up to his chin, and kisses his head. 

“Daddy?” Harris asks before Eddie can stand up. 

“Hmm?”

“Why did Grampa adopt you?”

Eddie exhales, chewing on the inside of his cheek. As his eldest son has gotten older, he’s become more honest with him, not constantly shielding him from painful truths. He chooses his words carefully before speaking again. 

“Well, my mom and dad weren’t good parents. They didn’t take care of me, and they made a lot of bad choices,” he says. Memories flash through his mind, ones of eviction notices and strangers constantly in his home. Ones of police officers snapping handcuffs on his parents’ wrists, the two of them too far gone to even register to the severity of the situation. He shakes it off, turning his attention back to Harris. “And so Grampa Wayne took me in and adopted me so I would have a safe, happy home.”

“Like how my mom made bad choices? My real mom?”

Eddie nods, wondering if Harris knows how closely their situations resembled each other. Except you did what your father didn’t–you changed, he reminds himself. 

“Yeah, like that.”

Harris thinks for a moment. “But now Mom is my mom. So does that mean she adopted me?”

“No, she didn’t adopt you.” His heart sinks when he sees the small pout forming on Harris’s lips. “Not yet, anyway.”

“Why not?”

Eddie scratches at his jawline, his nails digging into a particular itchy patch of stubble. “Well, honestly…we wanted to make sure it was what you wanted, Har. Because Mom will love you no matter what,” he makes sure to add. 

Without any hesitation, Harris declares, “It’s what I want.”

“Are you sure? You can sleep on it—” Eddie feels a smile tugging on the corners of his mouth despite his attempt to remain neutral. Yes, his son often acts on impulse, but Eddie can tell this isn’t one of those instances. 

Harris huffs out an impatient sigh, irritated that he even has to explain himself. “Dad, I’m nine now,” he says matter-of-factly. “I’m almost double-digits. And I know I want Mom to adopt me.”

Eddie grins wider, pressing a kiss to his son’s forehead. “All right, bud. You got it.” He stands up with a grunt, something that Harris has already dubbed an ‘old man noise.’ “We’ll talk about this more tomorrow, okay?”

“Mm-hm,” Harris agrees sleepily, cocooning himself in his blankets while Eddie turns out the light. 

Eddie is teeming with excitement when he sees you sitting in the family room, an open bag of sour cream and onion potato chips in your lap. Hendrix was fast asleep in his crib, and it was finally time for you and your husband to relax. 

“So,” Eddie says, sliding onto the couch cushion next to you and plucking a chip from the bag, “it turns out that the birthday boy has one more gift request. A big one, actually.”

You raise your brows. “How big? Like, Hot Wheels track big or space camp big?”

“Neither.” Eddie’s eyes gleam. “He wants you to adopt him.”

You sit up quickly, a smile stretching across your face. “Are you…are you serious?”

“One hundred percent.” Eddie says with a nod. “He insisted on it, actually. I don’t think you could say no even if you wanted to.”

His teasing would normally draw a snarky retort from you, but you’re too overwhelmed to come up with a quip. “Harris wants me to adopt him,” you say slowly, letting each word seep into your tongue. 

Eddie kisses your cheek, his nose brushing your warm skin. “This is everything I ever wanted for him, you know,” he murmurs. Another kiss, then he tilts your chin so he can place his lips on yours. “Thank you for loving him.”

You snuggle in closer, your head resting on his shoulder. “Thank you for letting me.”

September 2002

It’s a special occasion when you can convince Eddie and Wayne Munson to wear a suit and tie, but you didn’t even have to ask today. Both men are dressed with their shirts tucked into their slacks—not jeans. 

You smooth out a pleat in your dress, scoop Hendrix out of his Pack-N-Play, and grin at your family. 

“You guys ready?” You ask, desperate to get everyone into the car before someone spills something on their clothes. While Harris and Hendrix would be the most obvious culprits of a mess, the men are just as capable of causing chaos.

Eddie slings Hendrix’s diaper bag over his shoulder and takes Harris’s hand in his. “Let’s ship out, team.”

“Ship out!” Hendrix echoes–loudly, right in your ear. You wince, but you can’t stay annoyed for too long, considering how happy you are. How happy everyone is; even the baby of the family, who doesn’t know why he’s in a good mood, just that he is.

Everyone piles into the sedan: Eddie in the driver’s seat, you in the passenger seat, and Wayne squished between his grandsons in the back.

“Don’t know how I ended up here,” Wayne grumbles, reaching behind for his seatbelt. 

Eddie grabs your hand as he pulls onto the road, giving it a tender squeeze. This is a huge deal; logically, you know this. To Eddie, he’s officially giving his son the mother he always deserved, and you’ll be able to make all sorts of important decisions for Harris. But to you, there is no piece of paper that can strengthen or weaken your love for your oldest son. Still, this is a promise from you to Harris, one that you will never break.

The courthouse’s silence is promptly broken with the Munsons’ arrival, as your family’s presence tends to do. Hendrix enjoys the way his delighted shrieks reverberate down the empty hallway, and Harris grips a nearby bench to jump out his nervous energy.

“Har?” you call out, waving him over to a private spot. He stops jumping long enough to follow you, shaking his hands excitedly.

You crouch down to his height and dig through your purse until you find what you’re looking for: a shiny silver compass with a quote engraved on the back:

“If you don’t get lost, there’s a chance you may never be found.” 

“Uncle Dusty recommended his favorite compass, and he said you can bring it on your next camping trip” you say with a smile, your lower lip trembling as you hold back tears. “I hope that every time you use it, you remember that I’ll always be here to help you find your way.”

Harris looks from you to the compass and back again. He grins and flings his arms around you, nearly knocking you over in the process.

“This is so cool!” He cheers. “I’m gonna show everyone!”

“What do you say?” Eddie reminds him, a twinkle in his eye.

Harris barely turns around to you to yell, “Thanks, Mom!”

Mom. That title never gets old, and you don’t think it ever will.

“Munson?” You jump slightly when a bailiff announces that it’s your turn to see the judge. He gives a small smile as you enter the courtroom, probably relieved that this is a joyful occasion that won’t likely require his intervention.

This is it, you think. You wish your dress had pockets to hide your trembling hands.

Everyone takes their positions. Harris stands between you and Eddie, and Wayne holds Hendrix at the end, ready to make a quick getaway in case the youngest Munson decides to throw a tantrum.

The judge addresses you directly. Her tone is firm but warm as she says, “Do you understand that if your petition for the adoption of Harris Wayne Munson is granted, you will be legally responsible for him?”

“Yes.” You feel Harris’s palm slide against yours; when you briefly look down, you see that his other hand is holding Eddie’s.

“And do you understand that this support includes food, clothing, shelter, as well as medical and educational support?” She continues.

You nod. “Yes.”

“And do you understand that if your request is granted, that you will be Harris’s parent in all respects, just as if he had been born to you?”

“Yes.” Your heart swells with love. Just as if he had been born to you. Even with the memorable pains and trials brought on by carrying and delivering Hendrix, you considered Harris just as much your son.

“And do you understand you will be undertaking the intellectual, spiritual, and moral guidance of Harris?”

You can almost hear your husband’s thoughts: Better her than me.

“Yes.” 

The judge goes through a few more questions, all regarding your abilities to care for Harris. With each one, you feel Harris’s bouncing get more exuberant; part of you wishes you could join him.

Finally, she declares, “Based upon the reports and recommendations, this court finds that granting this petition is in the best interest of Harris.” She looks directly at Harris as she says, “Congratulations, she’s officially your Mommy.”

A choked sob escapes your throat, and your free hand flies to your mouth. You and Eddie both crouch down to embrace Harris, and you can’t help but notice the tears in your husband’s eyes. Wayne makes his way to you and, as best as he can with Hendrix still in his arms, wraps you in a hug. You think he might be the only adult not crying, but a tell-tale sniffle gives him away.

Hendrix is very confused by the overt display of emotion. The last time Wayne cried was well before the boy was born, back when the Colts won the 1970 Super Bowl against the Cowboys.

“Daddy? Mommy? Grampa?” He asks. “Why you cry?”

“We’re fine, buddy. Just have some big feelings. Happy feelings,” Eddie clarifies, kissing Hendrix on a chubby cheek. He looks at Harris and grins. “How does it feel, Har? Now that Mom adopted you?”

Harris scrunches up his face. “Like the same.”

You laugh and ruffle his hair. It’s not as wild as it was when he was your student, his curls less of a mop. “Good ‘the same’?”

He grins, nodding and hugging you again. “I can’t wait to tell all of my friends, and Uncle Dusty, and Mr. Will…”

Harris continues listing people he’s going to share his news with all the way to the parking lot. Some names you recognize, and others he might as well be making up.

“Wait! I almost forgot!” You reach into your purse and pull out a Ziploc bag containing five Oreos. “Everyone take one, but don’t eat it yet.”

When each person has an Oreo in their hand, you raise your own to eye-level and begin your toast. “To my first son, Harris. Thank you for making me a mommy.”

“To Harris!” Wayne and Eddie chorus, and Hendrix just yells his brother’s name before chowing down on his cookie. 

As you all pile back into the car, Eddie takes your hand in his. Chocolate is still tucked into the crevices of his lips. 

“To you, Sweetheart. Thank you for being the mommy Harris always wanted. Thank you for making us a family again.”

The kiss tastes of vanilla creme, sugary sweet, and you swear you wouldn’t have broken it if Wayne didn’t clear his throat. 

“No need to make a third kid up there,” he mutters under his breath. 

Eddie glares at him, hoping Harris didn’t overhear the comment, but you press on. “Shall we celebrate at the diner?”

“Can we share pancakes?” Harris beams.

You crane your neck and look back at him, once again overwhelmed by the amount of love you hold for him–for your son.

“I’d love to.”

--

[arjudy224]

The Intern: Outreach Gala

Another uneventful day for Gotham's environmental intern...

Prequel: Death of a family

The Intern: Day one

The Intern: The Laughing Fish

The Intern: Busy Work

The Intern: Outreach Gala

The Intern: Visiting an old friend

The Intern: Chemical Valley

The Intern: Billionaire Boys Club

Gotham's public library appears unrecognizable under the cloak of night. Broad leaves shroud the outside exterior of the Gothic pillars while ivy cascades down the large door frames. Harris raises an eyebrow.

"How many forests do you think Wayne destroyed in his quest to save the planet?" He questions with a smirk.

Each grey hair is perfectly gelled out of his face. Ditching his glasses for the occasion, Dr. Harris may actually care about tonight's guests. The bouncer outside the door seemed to think the dress code was not a laughing matter.

Taking his extended arm, I roll my eyes. The security guy nods to the two of us as we walk through the door.

"Professor, if you keep saying things like that Gordon's going to question your stances on Gotham's resident Eco-terrorist. " I whisper with a smile. "....but at least 12."

Thanks to the joint collaboration between Wayne Industries, Goth-corp, and the Gotham Department of Environmental Protection. Gotham City is hosting its first Environmental Outreach Gala for the nearby tri-state area. Unfortunately for me, they saddled the newest intern to do all the heavy lifting. Young joints and all that jazz. At least I got an invite. The invites ran out before the IT guy could get one. Poor Eddie.

My heart flutters a little bit as a realization hits me. I’m actually here… surrounded by giants in clean energy and the scientific community alike. Award-winning journalists... All for the future of our planet. Passing my reflection, I smile thinking of how far I’ve come from that little river rat back at home.

A figure in the corner of my eye draws my thoughts away from the Grandma debrief. Dick Grayson, the Billionaire’s son, charms the group of ladies by his side. I take a mental note to find time to talk to him when there isn’t such a big crowd. It's been a long time since we last spoke.

The walls echo with the idle chatter coming from the rich socialites of Gotham. Waiters in tuxedos maneuver silently with a tray of champagne flutes in each hand. Considering, that most environmental professionals wear cargo pants from the early 2000s to work... the dress code was definitely a choice. I scan the room for familiar faces. Gordon flashes me a smile from across the room. I nod back. The Mayor works his way around the room with a large smile. It must be an election year.

My throat gets tight. I'm not ready for this. Looking to my right, I find that Dr. Harris has vanished into the crowd.

"Y/N L/N?" A voice calls distracting me from my nerves.

A well-dressed man strolls over. Something about him puts me on edge. Maybe it's his wicked smile or the large emerald ring on his outstretched hand. He walks with an easy air of confidence.

"Lex Luthor."

My heart does a little tap dance in my chest. The tight fabric of my rental dress makes it hard to breathe. I shake his hand politely. The party-goers go quiet around us. From the corner of my eye, Lois Lane, an investigative reporter from Metropolis, shoves through the crowd. So much for being a fly on the wall.

"I recently worked with a Professor of yours. She had a lot to say about your graduate proposal."

This cannot be happening. Memories of those long fights in the lab flash in the back of my mind. Mr. Luthor's cat-like gaze observes my reaction curiously.

I cover my face in embarrassment. That woman deserves hate mail. I could have at least been asked to type or spell-check it beforehand.

"To be frank, I originally chose the topic to get a rise outta her. Dr. Hendrix had me doing dishes for 3 weeks straight after I accidentally messed up a sample, so I wrote a proposal I knew she wouldn't like."

When I finally uncover my face, Luthor stares down at me with an amused grin.

"Even so. I'd like to discuss potential funding opportunities in Metropolis. If this is something you would think up out of boredom, I'd love to see what you can do when you put your mind to it."

That brings a smile to my face.

"Really? Everyone who I've brought it up to has been apprehensive about researching Kryptionian radiation.

"We need more scientists to ask questions Ms. L/N. Even the ones, that people don't want to know the answer to. "

The sullen green glow draws my eye once again to Mr. Luthor's ring finger... Wait, that's not an emerald. That's Kryptonite.

"Is this a personal interest of yours?" I ask slowly glancing between his eyes and his ring.

"In some ways."

An unspoken conversation occurs when he notices my acknowledgement of his strange choice of jewelry. The silence only creates more questions. Why would you wear something you know is irradiated?

"I hope to hear from you soon." Mr. Luthor concludes after handing me a business card, "There is always a spot at Lexcorp for a future scientist with your talents."

I stand there in silence watching him leave. The sleek modern design of the card lists only the bare essentials: his name, office address, and contact information in silver lettering.

Four hours ago, I was hauling boxes for the decorating committee. Huh. A nearby waiter offers a champagne flute from the tray. Respectfully, I turn them down. This dress costs more than my rent.

“Oh no. Thank you. I am… working.”

"Does work-life balance not apply to interns?” A voice interrupts.

I try not to roll my eyes at the "intern" comment. The constant reminders of my status are getting old. Starting at his perfectly buffed dress shoes, my gaze drags along the fabric of his black designer suit. Dick Grayson sure does like to make an entrance. With his dark curls and friendly blue eyes, his familiar smile knocks over my defenses. Sipping on his drink, he waits for my response with a teasing grin. His energy is contiguous. I ignore his question to ask my own instead.

“Has anyone told you that you tend to appear out of nowhere?”

His striking eyes light up with a mischievous glint.

“You have no idea.” He laughs, "It's nice to see you back in Gotham. It's been a long time."

"It has. From the rumors, you have been up to quite a bit of trouble." I joke gesturing to the envious eyes from across the room.

He raises a curious eyebrow.

“Good things I hope?”

Glancing around the room, I ignore the dozen eyes staring daggers in my direction. Academia can be such a bitch.

“Nothing too crazy: a few murders, unfounded accusations, and you might be an alien?”

Dick grimaces while tilting his head ever so slightly. He swirls his drink, yet doesn't take a sip.

“Sounds about right. Anything you believe? “

I pause... Do I play coy?

“I’m not sure an alien could do a quadruple summersault.”

Something flashes in his eyes that I don’t quite understand. For a moment, I wonder if I should have held my tongue. His suspicion morphs into the first genuine smile I've seen all evening.

“You’ve kept tabs on me Y/N.”

Before I can respond, a scream causes the ballroom to descend into chaos. Vines shoot out from under the floorboards while the native plants start attacking the guest. A woman with flaming red hair paces the floor. Her vines wrap around each person one by one…. A thorny bush springs out of a fallen leaf snagging my delicate rental dress.

Dammit Pamela. We talked about this.

Glancing at the bartender's horrified expression, I frown.

“I change my mind. I’ll have that drink now.”

[deeswrld]

Random astro observations

Some content is 18+

I’ve noticed people with Sagittarius/9H placements always seem to stand out in the field they pick or in some sort of way become pioneers. E.g. Jimi Hendrix was a Sag stellium and has a reputation of a guitar God for his innovative and crazy good guitar skills. Teena Marie (Sag moon) became a beloved non black R&B singer/artist at Motown. I just feel like Sag placements are just out here breaking barriers lol.

People with trining risings all have a certain similar look!!

E.g Most Air risings tend to have pointy chins and high cheekbones with prominent noses—I’ve noticed they always seem to have a prominent nose bridge even if it’s not that thin but it sorta gives them this Greek god/goddess look with their eyebrows slightly arching.

With water risings I’ve noticed Scorpio risings have a more reserved look in their eyes and all water risings have a somewhat oval shaped face. You can literally tell them by their eyes lol. Cancer risings have bambi eyes and Pisces risings have doll like watery eyes.

Now, I knew I started recognizing earth risings when I found Sarah Paulson to look like Adele.😭 Which further goes to prove the trining risings point I made previously.

I think I’ve stated this before but hear me out! Idk what the connection is but the moon sign also affects how you look!! I fr can’t stop guessing people’s moon signs at first glance.💀

Libra rising with 1H venus & mercury culture is constantly teasing others!! Wanting to be in a relationship yet wanting to be independent and having no problem breaking things off if they feel something’s not right.

Gemini risings with 10H suns have an INSANE bone structure/hot body!!! 😮‍💨🔥 Their arms & legs tend to be long! Legs tend to be skinny and thighs thick meanwhile their collarbones just stand out, overall they just have great bone structure! I’ve noticed this with myself & Irene Cara! 😩

I’d apply it to 10H suns in general but I haven’t looked into it as a collective thing yet.

11H Aries mercuries only speak what they think is true to them regardless of anybody’s opinion and I love how real they keep it, they’re also very humanitarian and speak up for groups/communities!

Pisces and Aquarius in the big 3 HATE boundaries. I’ve noticed this with myself and Axl Rose!���� Ironically I’m Pisces sun-Aqua moon and he’s Aqua sun-Pisces moon.😛

I’ve noticed a pattern with people that have Aqua venus and mars and being aggressive…🥲

Taurus venus love soul/R&B music?

I’ve noticed some 10H Chiron people have trouble with work like, they might switch jobs often.

8H Chiron and having a phobia of being touched by anybody and for no reason too?

People who’s planets fall in your 9H might be the ones who you rarely see crying but are the first to try and cheer you up! You might also see them as arrogant or too blunt at times too especially if their mercury falls in your 9H!

People who’s planets fall in your 10H, you’ll see them as reserved and hardworking, they might like to give you stuff as a love language like share their food or they might like to invite you to go somewhere. Even though it might feel a little awkward at times, you both might get into deep conversations.

Not Gemini suns with Leo moons out here causing chaos then if somebody else asks them about it they’ll charmingly lie their way out of it and make it seem like it was the other person’s fault.😭😂

Scorpio mars lowkey live for toxic sex. ✋🏽 Some Scorpio mars & Aries mars I know, also secretly have a spanking kink??😛

If you have mars in somebody’s 1H they just won’t be able to contain themselves around you! You might sexually fantasize about them a LOT too. And you’ll find them hot down to the way they talk, their body language!!😮‍💨🔥

And if somebody’s mars falls in your 1H you’re prone to getting horny like 24/7 and it’ll feel like an intense and passionate connection! Sex might be like, ripping each other’s clothes off and one get thrown on the bed while the other dominates them and they both make out while grabbing each other—basically just not being able to keep your hands off of each other lmao. Also, having sex anywhere too and going for multiple rounds during the day!💀🔥

That also applies to Aries mars in composite too!⤴️⤴️

Pisces and Sagittarius suns—when they’re not at each other’s throats—actually make a good pair!❣️

Earth suns with Earth mars are so sensual and sexy😩😩😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨!!!

Having composite mars at Libra degree (7, 19) can indicate compliments and vanilla sex!😮‍💨

If somebody has their mars in your 7H, most likely they’ll be super possessive over you. 😭

If someone has their venus in your 7H then you’ll feel very comfortable with their love language or feel like you’ve found the one!💗

Sagittarius mars in composite is often grabbing thighs, giggles or soft laughter, a somewhat competitive energy and possessive aura.❣️Also, wanting to travel and explore new places together or talking about moving or including each other in future plans! Also, learning new things from each other or talking about subjects like geography/history and genealogy or about different cultures! You both could be from different backgrounds too or similar but one person is mixed, etc…

Also, when looking at appearance not only should we consider the rising but also the 7H! Say if you’re a Gemini rising; You might be able to build muscle easily or have long legs yet thick thighs because Sag falls in your 7H and Libra is also ruled by venus. Just like how Aries risings tend to have charming smiles and great bodies (7H falls in Libra), etc…

[obsidianimagines]

Don't Mention It

The Doctor discovers that the two of you have a shared hobby

Twelve x gn!reader

Warnings: None

You realized it probably wasn't the best idea to touch The Doctor's guitar, but when you got ready for the day and entered the empty console room to find it sitting there unattended, you couldn't resist. After all, sometimes it was simply better to seek forgiveness than to ask for permission. Surely he wouldn't be too upset if he found out, and if he was, you could handle him.

After turning the amp down a bit, you sat on the steps, holding the guitar as you settled into place. Without having to think much about it, you began to play Purple Haze. You were a little out of practice, but it felt nice to strum out a tune.

Before you could move onto another song, you jumped at the sound of The Doctor's voice. "What are you doing?"

When you looked up, his piercing blue eyes and very serious brows were focused right on you. You hadn't even heard him get close.

"Playing guitar. Well, your guitar." You slipped the strap off of your body and handed the instrument to him. "Sorry."

"You never told me you could play." He'd actually been quite surprised at the fact that your playing sounded pleasant, as opposed to the nails on a chalkboard he'd heard when Clara once picked up his guitar.

"I'm sure I have. You probably weren't listening."

"I'm always listening," he said, sounding almost offended.

"You're joking, right?" You stood up from the stairs with a sigh. "Anyway...yes, I play. I just haven't had much time between travelling with you and working whenever I'm back at home. When I hear you playing, it really makes me miss it."

How The Doctor hadn't put the pieces together long ago, he didn't know. When you stopped everything and watched him play, he'd always assumed you were just impressed by his great skills. And maybe it was a little bit of that, but it seemed there had been some longing, too. You were enjoying the music and wishing you could be playing yourself.

The Doctor looked down at the guitar he still held in his hands, and you were caught off guard when he offered it back to you. "I'd better not find even a scratch on it. If I do, I'm dropping you off at home."

You knew he wouldn't do such a thing, but you still intended to respect his request, gingerly taking it from him and putting the strap back over your head.

As The Doctor turned to the console, you sat down once again and played the first thing that came to mind.

It had been a few days since your last trip with The Doctor when he finally showed up again. You weren't sure how long it had been for him—you never were—but he didn't seem any different.

He played his guitar as he pondered something you couldn't even begin to guess, filling the TARDIS with what you recognized as I Will Dare by The Replacements. An odd choice, you thought, yet that didn't stop you from listening intently.

The Doctor abruptly stopped the tune to put the instrument down, and he was gone from the console room before you could say anything. You sighed in disappointment. You quite liked that song after all.

You continued where he'd left off, humming and tapping your fingers against your thigh.

Moments later, The Doctor came back, holding a guitar case in his hand. You frowned at the sight, because even though he probably had several scattered around the TARDIS, he seemed to prefer the Yamaha that still sat in the console room.

It was even more puzzling when he gave you the case.

"Did you...buy me a guitar?"

"No, no. I didn't buy it. I don't buy things." The Doctor walked over to the console, pretending to look at something on the screen and at least attempting to be out of hugging distance. "A friend gave it to me in the 1960's, and it's been sitting around here ever since."

"1960's?" Very carefully, you placed the case on the floor, opening it to find a beautiful vintage Stratocaster. One very much like Jimi Hendrix used to play. Knowing the man who had given it to you, it was the genuine article.

Without noticing the way he'd been watching you, you closed the case back up and practically ran to The Doctor, throwing yourself at him in a hug. The impact and the way you pushed him into the console knocked some of the wind out of him. "Why does there always have to be hugging?!" He struggled to exclaim as you squeezed him tightly.

"I really can't help it right now." You kissed his cheek and gave him one more squeeze before mercifully letting him go. "Thank you, Doctor. Seriously."

"Don't mention it. Really. I only wanted to stop you playing mine so much."

"That won't be a problem. Believe me."

Returning to the case like a giddy little kid, you took the guitar out and hooked it up to the amp. You missed the small smile on his face as you began to play a song for him.

The Doctor didn't plan to tell you that he had only acquired the guitar after your previous trip.

[luckieduckiie]

im fried | d. dennis

you and your friend are in the club and you spot future… or you think you do.

the lights were dim, a little too dim some may say, but it didnt help that you were drunk either. too drunk, and well maybe a little high too.

“bro, is that future ?” you say to your friend, pulling her close, your eyes wide as you point to the dreaded man standing in the vip section.

“bitch!” she exclaims jumping up and down. “it is oh my god! OH MY GOD!”

a grin finds its way to your face as you look at her.

“im the shit bitch i know.” you say smugly. “ im going to go ask for a picture come one.”

you feel her hand grab your belt loop as she follows you throughout the sea of people, a chorus of excuse me’s and sorry’s stream from your lips as you finally get to the edge of his section. as you are looking up at him you notice the diamond smile he had on his face.

“sir, sir excuse me” you say, well yell. the noise was deafening.

he glances down at you and the smile widens.

“yes gorgeous.” he says, a slight southern drawl playing on his tongue and from the sound of that you should have know that it was indeed not mr hendrix as you had initially anticipated.

“ i love your music!” you say exclaim happily.

“ im sorry, what you say?” he questions leaning down over the edge of the wall that was between you two.

“ i love your music,” you say getting closer to his ear giggling. “ cause i am fried yes fried and very fucked up” you recite the lyrics back to him.

a deep laugh errupts from his as he stands back up causing you to look at him quizzically.

“so, can i get a picture?” you yell, confusion setting in.

“ yeah, yall come on up here sweetheart.” he says the word sending shivers down your spine. he motions for you and your friend to come.

he walks over and meets you at the entrance signaling the man guarding it that you could enter.

you immediately go in for a hug without thinking and your friend who is prepared snaps the picture.

“ oh ok, damn.” he laughs wrapping his arms around you large hands gripping your waist. you cant help but bask in his scent. it exudes sex and masculinity. it smells exactly as he look.

“you smell so good.” you say looking up at him head still resting on his chest.

the look he gives you says it all. “ thank ya.” he says smiling at you then licks his lips.

“ yo friend want one too mama?” he asks lowly eyes still locked on yours.

“oh, shit yeah.” you say pulling away, sighing at the loss of his body against yours.

“here girl.” you say reaching for the phone.

she goes over and just wraps her arm around his waist and his over her shoulder, the other going up into a peace sign. a sense of satisfaction arises in you as you see he didnt embrace her just like he did you but leaves as soon as you see the big smile on her face. she was happy for you and you the same for her, besides he wasnt your man anyway.

you click a few pictures and then she pulls away and thanks him coming back over to you and grabbing the phone to look at them

“yall wanna chill with us for a lil bit?” he asks motioning to the group of guys surrounding him.

“yeah.” you reply without even realizing, looking at your friend and she nods too.

“type shit” he says. you both follow him to the couch and as he sits he leaves room for you both on the side of him.

“so where yall from?” he asks looking between the both of you.

“ texas, but we go to school out here!” your friend answers smiling.

“type shit, what yall studying?” he asks curiosity genuine.

“im working on my masters in business and she is currently working on a phd in biology.” she says motioning to you. “she really smart as hell. tell him bout your research” she says smirking at you and you smile in response, her way of saying he yours girl.

his eyes widens as he look at you and you begin to explain, “ uh yeah my thesis is on the rate of duplication in cancer cells in african americans.”

“oh shit, you gone be a doctor.” he asks.

“thats the goal but i dont know shit is crazy.” you say staring at him. as you look you start to realize he is lacking nose piercings and the signature blond on his dreads.

your eyes widen as you come to the realization. “oh my God youre not future.” you exclaim standing up.

a loud laugh erupts from him and your friend stand up as well when she realizes this and she moves to your side.

“thats who you thought i was?” he is able to say between his laugh.

embarrassment burns through your body at this and you begin slightly angry.

“obviously!” you say irritation heavy in your voice.

as he notices this his laugh stops and smile drops.

“yo calm down.” he says reaching a hand out to grab yours and you pull away disgust on your face.

“dont fucking touch me.” you say grabbing your friend. “come on lets go.” you say grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the exit.

“what the fuck.” you hear him say behind you. you dont care, not only did he laugh at you, he lied to you. or at least in your eyes he did and that alone was enough to piss you off and ruin your night- your high too.

yall im really rusty at writing but i got the idea for this when i was high & i think i wanna do another part or two ! let me know what yall think cause there aint enough on here about dada

[simswoon]

New beginnings ⁺⋆📦⋆.˚⁺🫣

Transcript:

Dante: “Hey, new neighbor! Need an extra set of hands?”

Lillian: “Oh, wow, yes! Please, if you don't mind. This is... definitely a bigger job than I thought.”

Dante: “So... big move, huh?”

Lillian: “Long story. I guess. It's a fresh start.”

Lillian: “Are you this helpful to all your new neighbors, or am I just lucky?”

Dante: “I think you're just lucky.”

Lillian: “Alright, kids, this is Mr. Dante, our new neighbor.”

Lennon: (whispers to Hendrix) “I think he's a superhero...”

Dante: “Close, I'm a Firefighter.”

Lillian: “Looks like we're all moved in.”

Dante: “I figured you guys could use a little welcoming gift.”

Lillian: “You really didn't have to, but... wow. Thank you."

Dante: “You two must be my official pizza testers, huh? Think you're up for the job?”

Lennon: “I can eat three slices. Easy."

Hendrix: “Pizza!”

Dante: “Alright, I’ll take your word for it, but let’s save at least one slice for your mom, yeah?”

Lillian: (laughing) “One slice? Generous of you.”

Lillian: "Thank you, Dante. Really. You made this so much easier."

Dante: "Of course, I'm just next door if you ever need anything..."

Bonus Screenie of Lenny and Hen because they are so cute 💕

[maybe-im-dark]

Spinning memories

Based on this post

The afternoon light filtered through the windows of Wade and Logan’s shared apartment, catching on the flecks of dust that danced in the air. Wade was lounging on the couch, his feet kicked up on the armrest, aimlessly scrolling through his phone. Logan sat across from him in his usual chair, sipping a beer and watching the muted sports game on TV.

“Hey, Wolvie,” Wade said, breaking the comfortable silence.

Logan glanced over, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

“What kinda music do you like?” Wade asked casually, his tone light but his eyes flicking to Logan with a hint of mischief.

Logan furrowed his brow. “Why do you care?”

“Because, darling, I wanna know what makes your little feral heart go pitter-patter,” Wade teased, grinning. “C’mon, spill.”

Logan sighed, setting down his beer. “Blues rock, classic stuff mostly. Bit of country if I’m in the mood. Heavy metal, too, when I’m pissed off. Why?”

Wade ignored the question. “Okay, okay. Blues rock, classy. Who we talking here? Clapton? Hendrix? Zeppelin? Or are you more into the howling-at-the-moon kinda country?”

Logan hesitated for a moment. “Hendrix, yeah. Creedence Clearwater Revival. Johnny Cash. Fleetwood Mac, too. A bit of Lynyrd Skynyrd. Metallica when I feel like punching a hole in something. And yeah, Cash’s howling works for me.”

Wade’s eyes lit up. “Good taste, snookums. Damn good taste.”

Logan narrowed his eyes, suspicious. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing!” Wade sang, turning back to his phone with a grin that didn’t ease Logan’s doubts.

---

Weeks passed, and Logan forgot about the conversation. Wade had been unusually busy, spending time in their spare room with the door locked, and whenever Logan asked, Wade would wave it off with a joke or a crude comment. Logan figured it was just another one of Wade’s weird obsessions, and he didn’t press the issue.

Then Logan’s birthday arrived.

He hadn’t mentioned it to Wade, but of course, Wade knew. Logan had expected something loud and ridiculous—maybe Wade jumping out of a cake in a Speedo or some other nonsense. What he didn’t expect was a large, neatly wrapped box sitting in the middle of their living room when he walked in after a run.

“Happy birthday, sugar bear!”

Wade greeted him with a flourish, standing beside the box with his arms spread wide.

Logan stopped in his tracks, staring at the package. “What the hell is this?”

“Open it and find out,” Wade said, rocking on his heels with barely contained excitement.

Logan approached the box cautiously, like it might explode. “If this is another one of your dumb jokes…”

Wade gasped, clutching his chest theatrically. “Logan! The lack of faith! You wound me.”

Rolling his eyes, Logan tore the paper off the box. Inside was a wooden record player with a sleek, vintage design. He froze, blinking at it, trying to process what he was seeing.

“Keep going,” Wade urged softly.

Logan pulled the player out of the box and set it aside. Underneath, carefully wrapped in protective sleeves, were stacks of vinyl records. His eyes widened as he saw the names on the covers: Hendrix, CCR, Fleetwood Mac, Johnny Cash, Metallica, and more.

“These…” Logan’s voice faltered. He flipped through the records, his rough hands brushing over the familiar covers. “These are…”

“All the records you used to have back when you lived at the mansion,” Wade said, his voice unusually quiet. “Found some of your favorites, figured you’d like a trip down memory lane.”

Logan stared at the collection, his throat tightening. His life with the X-Men had been a complicated mix of triumph and heartbreak, but the music had been one of the few constants. Seeing these records again, holding them in his hands…it was overwhelming.

“You okay, honey badger?” Wade asked gently, watching him closely.

Logan couldn’t speak. His chest felt too tight, and his vision blurred as tears welled up in his eyes. Slowly, he turned to Wade and pulled him into a tight hug. Wade stiffened for a moment, surprised, before wrapping his arms around Logan.

“Thank you,” Logan managed to whisper, his voice rough with emotion.

“Hey,” Wade said softly, rubbing Logan’s back. “You’re welcome, bud. You deserve it.”

For a long moment, they stood there, Logan holding onto Wade like a lifeline. When they finally pulled apart,

Wade grinned and wiped at his own eyes. “Alright, enough with the mushy stuff. Let’s set this bad boy up and see if Hendrix still shreds, yeah?”

Logan nodded, a small, genuine smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Yeah.”

As the first notes of All Along the Watchtower filled the room, Logan sank into his chair, the sound washing over him like a warm tide. Wade flopped onto the couch, a satisfied smirk on his face. For once, there was no teasing, no jokes—just the two of them, sharing a moment of quiet joy.

And Logan couldn’t imagine a better way to spend his birthday.

[do-it-jakey-baby]

Fourth of July

Sam Kiszka x f!reader

Synopsis: Sam hated you, it was evident in the way that he spoke to you every time you saw him, but one Fouth of July weekend, everything changes.

Warnings: smut, adult themes, unprotected sex, enemies to lovers, profanity, drinking, mean Sam, soft Sam

18+, MINORS DNI

Your tyres crunched along the gravel as you navigated across the parking lot, until you found the perfect wide space for your Land Rover Defender. You parked up, slinging your backpack over your shoulder and making your way to the trunk. You open it up, your furry little companion barking with excitement, scrunching his nose and panting.

“Hey, boy! Ready for a weekend of adventure?” You giggle, ruffling the curls on the top of his head. He jumps down from the car and runs alongside you, looking up every so often to make sure you’re still there. You’re back in Michigan for the Fourth of July weekend, celebrating as usual with your best friends at a cabin your rent every year for the festivities. As you round the corner, you spot a familiar face. Sighing, you prepare yourself for whatever he has in store for you today. He’s bent down, picking up crates of beer to take into the cabin, but peers up as he hears your boots traipsing through the stony ground.

“What are you doing here?” He rolls his eyes, pushing his hair back as it falls around his face.

“I come here every year, Sam. You know that.” You frown, already finding his presence unbearable.

“Just thought you might be busy this year.” He mumbles.

“Well I’m not. Would it kill you to not be a total jackass for like, five minutes?” You throw your hands up, exasperated. This wasn’t how you wanted your weekend to begin, especially after the week from hell you’d just endured.

“That wouldn’t be very me of me, would it?” He scoffs, smirking slightly.

“No, it certainly would not.”

He cocks his head to the side, still sporting that infuriating smirk. “What, no smartass remark?”

You sigh, rubbing your hand across your forehead. “I don’t have the energy for you today, Sam. Why don’t you just pretend like I’m not here, avoid me and I’ll avoid you.”

His smirk suddenly vanishes from his face, replaced with an expression you can’t quite read. He stands, taking a step towards you.

“You ok?”

You recoil slightly, taking a step back and almost tripping over your dog. “Yes. Fine. I’ll be better when you leave me alone. Where are your brothers, anyway?” You tap your fingers impatiently against your thigh, wanting nothing more than for this conversation to end. Your eyes scan the front of the cabin, finding no one else’s presence.

“Inside setting up. Why, you trying to ditch me already?”

You scoff, your arms raising from your sides to cross over the front of your torso. “Ditch you? Sam, we never speak, let alone hang out together. You literally just asked me why I’m even here. So yeah, I’m looking for your brothers because they actually like me.”

He just stands there, staring at you with the same expression painted on his face. You raise your eyebrows at him, confusion taking hold at his out-of-character behaviour. In the 6 years you’ve known him, he’s never once asked you if you’re ok. He doesn’t take an interest in you, and is never nice.

“I’m really not in the mood for this today. Please, can we not do this.”

He looks momentarily defeated, but quickly shakes it off with a shrug of his shoulders. He bends back down, picking up the crate of beer. Thank god for that. You take that as the end of the conversation, so move past him quickly and turn the handle to the door of the cabin, letting yourself in.

“Honey, I’m home!” You call out into the foyer. It only takes a fleeting moment for a mess of dark brown curls to round the corner, running directly to you and lifting you up into his toned arms.

“Peach!” He hollers at you, spinning you around.

“Daniel! Careful of Hendrix!” You giggle, holding onto his shoulders tightly.

He puts you down, placing a kiss to your cheek, then bends down to fuss over your dog.

“Henny, my man! You’re just as handsome as the last time I saw you, buddy!”

Hendrix wastes no time flopping down onto his back, showcasing his tummy eagerly. Danny obliges, giving plenty of loving pets.

“When did you get here?”

He looks up at you from the floor, still running his hands over Hendrix’s fluffy coat. “Like, twenty minutes ago? Got unloaded pretty quickly. Sam is just helping Jake fill up the bar, fuck knows where Josh is.”

“Speak of the devil and he shall appear.” You grin, watching as Josh enters the room, his arms outstretched to you.

“Beautiful girl, how are you?” He coos into your ear as he envelopes you in a bear hug.

“Could be better, but let’s not fixate on that. I’m here to have a good time with my best friends.”

“But we can talk about it at some point right?” He pulls back slightly, giving you a concerned look.

“Maybe, but not now. Please.”

Just like always, your saving grace plods into the room. Jake pushes the sunglasses that are sat low on his nose up into his hair, smiling brightly at you.

“I thought I felt the temperature raise, the sunshine has returned. Hi, sugar.” He places his hands onto your shoulders, giving you the once over before kissing your cheek softly.

“Hi Jacob.” You giggle, scrunching your nose.

Suddenly, the atmosphere changes. You look up to see Sam stood in the doorway, his steely expression fixed on you. You audibly sigh, feeling deflated again after such a warm reception.

“I’m uh, gunna go get a drink.”

You exit the room hastily, making a beeline for the bar. You find a lowball, fill it with ice, then pour yourself some neat whiskey. The good kind that Jake always keeps generously stocked. You swirl the amber liquid around in the glass, then take a hearty glug, savouring the burn as it slips down your throat. You take a few centering breaths, but are interrupted when you feel a presence in the room with you. It moves from the door to beside you, a pair of hands reaching out to grasp the bottle of whiskey.

“Didn’t know you liked this stuff.”

“You don’t know anything about me, Sam.” You huff, taking another swig from your glass. “I wasn’t joking when I said I’m not in the mood for you and your attitude today.”

He leans on the counter next to you. “I’m not trying to have an attitude with you now though, am I?”

“Makes a change.”

He smirks at you, pissing you off even further. “Sam. I said I’m not in the mood, leave me alone. I’ve-” You sigh loudly, raking your hands through your hair. “Never mind…”

Sam places his hand on your arm, causing you to turn and face him in shock. His face softens for a moment, then turns more serious. “No… what were you going to say?”

You feel yourself reaching boiling point, your hand darting out to grasp onto your glass as you knock back the rest of your whiskey. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, slamming the lowball down onto the counter. “Fine, you wanna know so badly? I’ve had a really shitty week. My boyfriend broke up with me and now I have to move out of my apartment. Happy now? You wanna give me some sort of snide comment about how he must be so happy to be rid of me? Go ahead, Sam. I’m all fucking ears.” You grit your teeth, bracing yourself.

Sam clenches his jaw, his eyes studying your face intricately. You watch as he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing within his throat. He’s just standing there, looking at you. What a fucking prick.

“Are you really just gunna stand there and stare at me?”

He opens his mouth, then closes it, like he’s deciding on if he should say something or not. You’re tired of waiting now, so you begin to push past him to leave the room and find solace amongst real friends. That is, until his hand darts out and firmly grabs onto your wrist.

“Wait.” He mumbles.

You tug on your arm, but it’s no use. He’s got a vice-like grip onto you. Tears sting in your eyes, a mix of frustration and embarrassment. “Sam, what are you doing?! Let me go.”

His eyes widen and he loosens his grip ever so slightly. “Please, I don’t want you to go. I’m sorry.”

Your face contorts, your confusion displayed clearly across it as you struggle to figure out on earth is going on. “You don’t want me to go? Why? Fucking hell, Sam, you’re giving me whiplash.”

“I, uh-, I don’t like seeing you sad.” He mumbles, his fingers now rubbing along the pulse point of your wrist.

“What the fuck has gotten into you? That’s bullshit, and you know it.” You spit, feeling the fury rising within your stomach.

Sam’s face falls, he looks genuinely upset by your words. “That’s not true.”

You frown at him, your eyes scanning his face for any sign of deceit but you find that he’s actually being genuine for once. “Then why are you so mean to me all the time?”

He swallows again, seemly caught in an internal battle. His eyes dart around the area, looking at anything but you.

“You know what, Sam? If you can’t answer me then I have nothing more to say to you.” You had lost all patience at this point, wanting nothing more than to rejoin the others. You attempted to snatch your wrist back, but Sam’s grip tightens once more.

“You want to know why I’m so mean to you?”

“Obviously, hence me asking.” You roll your eyes.

“Because it’s the only way I could make sure you thought about me.”

You furrow your brow. “What?”

He takes a deep breath. “I’ve never had your full attention. You’re always distracted by other people, always laughing and joking and having fun with anyone but me. But when I’m mean, you look at me. You notice me.” He whispers.

“Sam, you’re confusing me so much. Why don’t you just talk to me like a normal person?”

“Because I don’t know how to!” He raises his voice, slamming his hand down onto the counter. “I was afraid of getting closer to you. Afraid of rejection. I pushed you away because I didn’t want to admit how I’m feeling. How I’ve felt all this fucking time.”

Your eyes widen, the pieces slowly coming together to form the whole picture. “How you were… feeling?”

“I like you, ok? A lot.” He rubs his hand across his face.

“You… like me?”

“Christ, Y/N. Of course I fucking like you. I just never wanted you to know, so I’ve acted like a total ass.”

You stand there, staring blankly at the man before you who has just given you the most open and vulnerable conversation ever, revealing that he has feelings for you.

“Please say something.” He mutters.

“I… I don’t know what to say. I’ve spent all this time thinking you hated me, now you’re telling me you like me? This is so overwhelming.”

“I don’t hate you, I could never hate you. I’m sorry.”

“How long have you felt this way?”

Oh, god. Forever. Like, a stupidly long time.”

“And you never thought to say anything to me, at all?”

Sam lets out a dry laugh. “I thought about it, but then I saw how you are with my brothers, with Daniel. The way you light up a room. How nice you are to everyone. I knew I’d just drag you down, or not be good enough for you. Then you started dating that dickhead. So I kept it to myself and did what I could to get you out of my head. But it never worked.”

“So why are you telling me now?”

“I don’t really know, I guess it just kinda came out. I felt bad that I’d upset you while you’re going through shit.” He steps closer to you, the scent of his cologne taking over your senses completely. It’s so undeniably Sam, earthy and musky, reminiscent of the incense he frequently burns. You feel yourself gravitating towards him, like there’s a magnetic pull between the two of you. He notices the proximity, so reaches out and pushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Sammy.” You whisper.

You hear his breath hitch in his throat. “You’ve never called me that before.” He whispers. His fingers are still in your hair, trailing down to stroke against the side of your face.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

Sam swallows thickly, before nodding. “Yeah, of course.”

You take a deep breath, about to spill your own truth. “When I first met you, when I was over at Danny’s house that day, I had the biggest crush on you. I thought you were the most beautiful person I’d ever laid eyes on. To begin with, you were nice to me, but then you turned so suddenly. It kinda broke my heart, y’know. I’ve spent so many years trying to chisel away at you, hoping that someday you’d stop hating me. But you never did.” You sigh, feeling extremely vulnerable.

Sam grimaces, his thumb ghosting over the shell of your ear. “I was just terrified of my feelings. I’m so sorry, I’ll never stop being sorry. I acted like such a dickhead.”

Before you can stop yourself, your hand darts up to Sam’s face, cupping his cheek. He sucks in a sharp breath, the proximity between you both now considerably smaller. He moves his hand from the side of your face to the back of your neck, massaging his fingers into the nape. Your lips part slightly at the feeling, and you watch as his eyes darken.

“You have no idea what you do to me.” He says in a low growl. His face is now only inches away from yours. You can feel his breath, hot and fragrant with the lingering scent of the Topo Chico he had whilst unpacking. In a moment of weakness, you close the gap. Your lips brush against his lightly, eliciting a groan from deep inside his chest. He kisses you back, his grip on your neck growing tighter. His lips move against yours desperately, like he would perish without the contact. He steps forward, pushing you up against the counter. You let out a soft whine into his mouth as the kiss deepens, your hands sliding up the back of his shirt and tracing patterns on his soft skin. You feel him shudder under your touch, pulling you closer and enveloping you in him. His tongue begs for entrance into your mouth, and you oblige, letting it mingle with yours.

Suddenly, you pull back. Your eyes widen as you realise what’s happening, and the speed in which it is. “Sam, what are we doing?”

“I have no idea, but I don’t want it to stop.” He mutters, his arms still wrapped around you.

You feel conflicted. One the one hand, this is something that you’ve secretly always wanted. But on the other, you found it hard to just forget the years of torment that he had put you through. “I don’t know if I can do this. You really hurt me over the years, regardless of how I felt about you.”

Sam frowns. “Please.” He murmurs, his hands gripping into you. “Please, just let me prove that I’m not an asshole. Let me make it up to you. I know I don’t deserve it, believe me I do. Just give me a chance to show you what I can really be like.”

You rest your forehead on his. “I don’t know. God, you make it so hard to say no.”

He closes his eyes. “Then don’t, angel.”

Something inside of you snaps at the pet name, igniting a raging inferno. “Fuck it.” You snake your hands up to his face, pulling him closer and kissing his lips hungrily. His hands drop down to your hips, gripping onto them firmly as he yanks you into him. His desire for you is on full display, evident in the way that he’s kissing you back.

“God, you have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to do this.” He whispers between kisses.

You hitch your leg up around his waist and his hand moves to cradle your thigh. You feel your body growing hotter as the situation unfolds, the pressure in the pit of your stomach almost unbearable. His lips drift from yours and down onto your neck, lightly nipping against the sensitive skin. You let out a soft moan, which he seems to enjoy judging by how he’s straining against you.

“Take me to your room.” You pant.

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” He bends and picks you up in one swift movement, your legs wrapping around him as he hurries across the hall and through the bedroom door. He throws you down onto the bed, a menacing look in his eye.

“Are we really doing this?”

“I fucking hope so. Only if you’re comfortable with it, angel.”

You grab onto him, pulling him down onto the bed. You climb over, straddling his lap and pressing yourself down onto him, feeling every inch of his body.

“You feel so good. I can’t even begin to tell you how many times I’ve imagined you like this.”

You begin to undo the buttons of his shirt, gazing down at him. “Oh yeah? Tell me more.”

He lets out a shaky breath as you begin to trail your lips down his neck. “I- fuck. I think about what it would feel like to have your hands on me, what you’d sound like when I find all the right spots, how you’d say my name breathlessly.”

“Like this?” You coo, splaying your hands across his now bare torso, grinding down onto him as you dig your nails in lightly.

He lets out a low, guttural moan, his hands grasping at the hemline of your t-shirt. You lift your arms up to allow him better access, feeling the material slide up and over your head. You aren’t wearing a bra today, which leaves you entirely naked from the waist up.

“You’re so beautiful.”

He leans forward and sucks your nipple into his mouth, his warm tongue lapping over the sensitive bud. Your back arches at the contact, a soft whimper falling from your lips.

“God, those pretty noises. You drive me crazy, Y/N.”

“Keep it up and you’ll hear more.” You smirk.

His eyes rake over your body hungrily as he explores you with his hands, getting to know every inch. “I’m going to savour every goddamn second of this.” He growls, flipping you over so that your back is pressed against the mattress. You writhe against him, the electricity of the atmosphere zapping in your ears and all over your body with every touch. Every brush of his fingers against your skin sends shockwaves through you. Your thumb drifts up to his bottom lip, pulling it down lightly. He takes it into his mouth and bites the tip, causing your eyes to flutter back into your head. He manoeuvres himself down the bed, his fingers dipping into the waistband of your shorts. He pulls them down slowly, then makes light work of sliding your panties over your hips. He bunches them up into his hand, putting them in his pocket.

“Souvenir.” He winks.

“You’re gross!” You giggle, pulling him towards you for another kiss. You feel your jaw fly open as he drags his middle finger up through your folds, teasing your entrance.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.”

“It’s all for you.” You breath.

A low growl rumbles from his chest as he begins to work circles over your clit with the pad of his thumb. You suck in a sharp breath at the feeling blossoming between your legs, Sam getting you exactly where you need to be at a frightening pace. You begin to claw at his belt buckle, but he grabs onto your wrist and pins it up above your head.

“This is about you right now, angel.” He clicks his tongue, quickening his fingers as you squirm beneath him. You’ve always wondered how it would feel to be at the hands of Sam. You used to watch in awe as he picked away at his bass on stage, the way he’d throw his head back when he got lost in the music. He was exceptionally talented with his hands, and now you were finding out about the other side of his skill. As you’re transfixed on the feeling, you don’t realise he’s now lowered himself down even further until his tongue makes contact with your clit. You gasp, bundling your hands into his silky waves. He focuses his tongue on your sweet spot, whilst pumping two fingers in and out of you, curling up to reach where you need it most. You’re unravelling rapidly, your breaths laboured as he coaxes your climax from you.

“Sammmm.” You whine.

“Let go, baby. I’ve got you. M’gunna take care of you like I always should have.”

You feel your legs shudder as his words tip you over the edge. He works you through it steadily, his lips ghosting over your neck and collarbones. You sigh softly, then prop yourself up onto your elbows.

“Take your fucking pants off.”

Sam looks momentarily taken aback by your brashness, but its quickly replaced as a devious grin spreads across his face. “Yes, ma’am.”

He stands and fulfils your request, unbuckling his belt and letting it thud to the floor. He pops the button and unzips, sliding the pants over this thighs and letting them pool around his ankles. He steps out, kicking them backwards and stands proudly in front of you.

“Lose the boxers, too.”

He smirks, flicking his fingers into the waistband and taking them off, meeting the same fate as his pants in a pile behind him. God, he’s gorgeous.

You beckon him towards you with your finger, looking up at him with lust filled eyes. He moves to hover over you, but you wag your finger in front of his face. “On the bed next to me.”

He lays down beside you and you raise up onto your thighs, climbing over and straddling him. His eyes widen as you take him into your hand, pumping a few times, then line him up with your entrance and slide down onto him until he’s filled you completely. He lets out a strangled cry, his hands flying up to grip into the meat of your hips. You begin to lift up, starting with an agonisingly slow pace. Sam’s eyes meet yours, pleading for further movement.

“Oh, you want more?” You tease, changing pace immediately and bouncing up and down with force.

“Fuck!” He chokes, his fingernails digging into your skin, marking you for days to come. He drives up to meet you, the tension in the air thick as your sweaty bodies blend together effortlessly. Everything is a blur as you both reach your peaks together, your movements becoming sloppy as the pleasure consumes you. His hand snakes up between your breasts and grips around your throat, constricting the blood flow and making your head feel deliciously fuzzy. Your walls begin to flutter, so Sam reaches forward and teases your clit, his left hand still wrapped tightly around your neck. He stares into your eyes, his pupils blown wide, mouthing cum for me. You let out an obscene moan, tipping your head back in ecstasy as the pleasure washes over you like the sunshine on a summer’s day. Sam’s hands fly to your hips, pulling you down onto him roughly as he reaches his own release.

“Holy shit.” He gasps as he twitches inside you.

You press your forehead to his and he wraps his arms around you, pulling you flush against him.

“You’re so fucking perfect.” He whispers, sweat dripping down his brow. He kisses your lips with a newfound passion, letting his tongue swipe against your bottom lip. You place your fingertips gently on his cheeks, tracing them down to his jawline.

“I forgive you.” You smile, watching his face light up.

He kisses you again, over and over. “Thank you. Thank you.” He chants, squeezing you impossibly hard as you giggle in his arms.

“I suppose we should uh, clean ourselves up and re-join the others.” You chuckle.

“Yeah, they probably think we’ve killed each other.” Sam grins.

You both re-dress, using the bathroom in Sam’s room to fix your hair and smudged make-up, then exit the room one by one. As you enter the living area, you’re met with 3 pairs of eyes staring at you. You give them a sheepish smile, rubbing your elbow nervously.

“Fucking finally.” Jake smirks.

You throw your head in your hands, your face flushing the deepest shade of crimson. Sam bristles beside you as he runs a hand through his hair.

“You owe me $20, cough up!” Jake nudges Josh, who is rolling his eyes.

“You guys made a bet?!” You scold, glaring at them.

“Oh honey, this bet has been going on for longer than you can imagine.” Josh laughs, sending you a wink.

“Yeah, yeah. Can we not. I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.” Sam places his arm around you, causing all of the hairs on your body stand to attention. The display of affection in front of his brothers is truly heartwarming, and you know in that moment you made the right decision.

“Shall we go grab a drink?” He whispers, smiling down at you.

“I’d love that.”

As you walk off into the kitchen, you hear the muffled sounds of the three boys engaged in a lively conversation.

“I always knew they’d find each other one day.”

~

To be continued… ?

[beforeimdeceased]

…ELECTRIC LADY 📺💋🚬

pairing: 70s!ellie x reader

synopsis: the devil’s back in town and there’s no angel to save you.

author’s note: the lack of these ellie fics was baffling. LIKE THE MULLET IS RIGHT THERE! ib the lovely @ellabsweet

part one. > part two.

⋆˚✿˖°

“why’s she keep showing up?”

“well if you give a dog a bone.”

“oh fuck off i ain’t give her nothing but a good time. she’s the one asking me to leave with her to a different state.”

“road trip? maybe that’ll do you good.”

“you need to get fucked every which way and loose. you’re too uptight, doll.”

was why your feet were currently dangling outside the window of the ever charming girl’s 72 grey oldsmobile, cross hanging just above the dashboard. you bop your body a bit before reaching down to grab a tape she’d left on the passenger seat floor.

“aww man, jimi hendrix.” she nods, tapping her finger on the steering wheel. she’s leant back in the drivers seat, eyes cross with the road. cigarette tucked behind her right ear.

“you know, i don’t know you that well anymore. the city’s changed you.” you open her glove box to find a bottle of brown liquor and a light. “and yet you still agreed to come with me.”

“against my will.” you roll your eyes. it’d been three hours into the trip and you were feigning boredom. all the flavor had gone from your gum, and you weren’t in the mood for a book.

ellie was a country city country girl, cause it all happened in that exact order. a couple years ago she moved to where the buildings were brighter and the possibilities were endless. you’d actually been talking about her the day she came back.

“that’s ellie.” you point to the picture of the smiling girl pinned to the diner wall. “she’s a big star now, too good for us.” you explained to eilaine. she’d just moved into town and you two quickly bonded over music, makeup, and dancing. throw a little gossip in the mix while you’re at it.

you nearly chuck up your milkshake when the chime rings and the aforementioned movie star walks in. hands in her pockets and a smile on her face. she’d cut her hair into a mullet and was dressed like something you’d only seen in a magazine.

“speak of the devil.” you get up to give her a hug.

“and he shall appear.” she hugs back. “hi darling, i’ve missed you.”

a bit of light conversation over some drinks, nuts, and a game of pool that you lost had led you to be huddled up in the hot car with her. how the hell did she convince you to join her in that big city of hers? well it wasn’t all her, your roommates were dying to get you out of there.

“it’s only for a month? let her take you for longer!” dina says mid makeup. she hadn’t even evened out her eyeliner before she started sending you off. and abby was no help. “i can’t protest. i think it’d be good for you, we’ll have that sweet new girl cover your shifts.”

“did you guys plan this behind my back or something?” your eyes follow abby’s body swiftly moving to the closet to pull out a suitcase. “if we did you’d be gone already, now start packing.”

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Summary: It's Hendrix's first Thanksgiving, and though he's not even one month old, he still manages to be part of a sweet surprise.

TW: Reader is breastfeeding, mention of Grandma, reference to the events of chapter 8

WC: 1.2k

Divider credit to @saradika

November 1999

You had given Eddie one job: buy the items on the shopping list—and only the items on the shopping list. There’s the usual weekly groceries, but now there’s the addition of ingredients for Thanksgiving dinner. 

And, of course, a plethora of diapers and wipes for your nearly three-week-old son. 

Sweet baby Hendrix is the reason why you’re excused from navigating the overcrowded Walmart aisles, and why Eddie and Harris have gone in your place. You gaze down at your infant son, wincing as he latches onto your breast. 

“There you go, little man,” you murmur, smoothing down a wisp of his hair. “We’ve got this.”

The apartment is unnaturally quiet; the only sound coming from the living room radiator kicking on to ward off the early winter chill. It’s the calm before the holiday whirlwind, a slice of silence carved out just for you. 

You savor it, inhaling deeply. Hendrix remains undisturbed by your chest rising and falling, happy to be filling his belly before his next nap. He spends his days eating, sleeping, or crying. As Harris says, he doesn’t do any tricks yet. 

Hendrix finishes nursing as the front door clicks open. Adjusting your shirt, you offer Eddie and Harris a tired smile. 

“Glad to see you two survived.”

“Sure did.” Eddie places the bags on the countertop. “And we stayed within budget.”

Your heart surges when he begins unpacking and pulls out a plastic bag filled with Granny Smith apples. Even though Eddie and Wayne will be doing most of the cooking this year—which means a lot of pre-made and boxed dishes—you had insisted on making Grandma’s applesauce. 

“These the right ones?” Eddie asks, wiping a fake bead of sweat from his brow when you answer in the affirmative. “Thank God. I know how much the applesauce means to you.”

You offer a grateful smile as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. It reminds you of the very first Thanksgiving you’d spent with him happened before you two were a couple—before he’d even taken you on a date. 

And, no, the drunken hook-up after his show at The Hideout didn’t count. 

Thanksgiving 1996 was spent eating Oreos and snuggling up on the couch, watching A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving with Eddie and Harris. Grandma was still alive, and you even caught a glimpse of her pre-illness self when Eddie played the Sinatra record. It seems like a million years ago, but it’s only been three. 

“Mommy, guess what?” Seven-year-old Harris calls out from where he’s peering into Hendrix’s bassinet. He doesn’t give you time to guess before he blurts out, “we got a surprise!”

You raise your brows. “A surprise? What is it?”

“Can’t tell ya.” He throws you a wink—where did he even learn that?—and makes a beeline for his room. 

Turning to your husband, you put your hands on your hips. “That surprise better not be more candy,” you warn. “He still has so much left from Halloween.”

Eddie shakes his head and grins. “Not candy.”

“Then what?”

“Can’t tell ya.” Eddie mimics the same wink as his oldest son, solving the mystery of its origin, tucking one particular bag underneath his arm. 

If you weren’t still freshly postpartum, you may have chased after him and insisted that he spill the secret. For now, you settle for flipping him off, and he blows you a cheeky kiss in return. 

Thanksgiving begins like any other normal day. Well, normal for the Munson household. 

Hendrix wakes up around the clock, but you get up for the day when his shrill wail jolts you from your sleep at six A.M. Your breasts are heavy with milk; a good thing, considering he sounds hungry. 

Harris, clad in his blue flannel pajamas, shuffles into your bedroom an hour later. He’s still wiping sleep from his eyes even as he talks. 

“Can we watch the parade?”

You hold your forefinger to your lips, praying that Harris’s entrance doesn’t wake the baby sleeping in Eddie’s arms. 

“It’s not on for another hour, Har Bear,” you whisper, patting the comforter. “But you can hang out with us until then.”

Harris nods, scrambling up onto the bed and plopping down between you and his dad. He glances up at Eddie with a pout. 

“Can I hold Hendrix? Pleeeeeease?”

Never one to shy away from theatrics, his brown eyes are wide as he pleads. 

“Actually,” Eddie says, his gaze flicking over to Harris, “I think we should get the surprise ready?”

Harris wrinkles his nose for a split second before he remembers. “Oh, yeah!” He tugs on Eddie’s undershirt sleeve. “We gotta do the surprise.”

You reach out for the baby, but Eddie shakes his head. “Not so fast, Sweetheart. All of the Munson boys are in on this.”

You’re not quite sure what your three-week-old could possibly contribute, but damn if you’re not intrigued. So you sit back, propped up against the pillows, and wait for them to return. 

Five minutes is long enough for you to doze off again, your body desperate for any scrap of sleep it can get. 

“Dad, she’s sleeping!” It comes from a voice right next to your ear. 

“Gently wake her up.” This voice is a bit farther away. Something shakes you. “I said gently, Har!”

You blink, massaging the back of your stiff neck from the awkward position you assumed during your impromptu nap. 

“I’m up.” You manage a small, tired smile. Harris stands right next to your bedside, but Eddie and Hendrix are nowhere to be found. “Is my surprise ready?”

Harris nods, glancing back at the empty doorway. “So…we just unwrapped the turkey, and it looks a little weird.”

He’s supposed to deliver it like it’s bad news, but his mischievous smile betrays him. 

Still, you play along. “It looks weird? What do you mean?”

That’s apparently Eddie’s cue. He creeps into the room, cradling Hendrix in his arms. Except the baby is no longer wearing his sage green pajamas. Now, he dons a brown onesie, a cartoon turkey face emblazoned on the belly. But the pièce de résistance is a tiny hat, a light brown pom pom puffing out from the top.

“That’s the cutest turkey I’ve ever seen!” Tears spring to your eyes, another sign that you’re still in the throes of postpartum hormones. You wipe them away before they can cause concern for the emotionally intuitive Harris. 

You reach out to take the teeny turkey from your husband. “I could just eat you right up,” you coo, pressing a kiss to Hendrix’s chubby cheek and breathing in his baby powder scent. 

“I found it,” Harris announces with a triumphant grin, “and Dad paid for it.”

“I know my place,” Eddie chuckles. “My wallet and I were ready.”

There’s a beat of silence as you take it all in. Your husband, proudly beaming as you snuggle Hendrix to your chest. Your oldest son, tickling Hendrix’s onesie-clad feet and making himself laugh. And your newborn-turned-turkey, scrunching up and then unfurling his little fist as he relaxes contentedly.

Harris looks up at you expectantly. “Is the parade on now?”

You and Eddie laugh, and Eddie ruffles Harris’s hair. 

There’s certainly plenty to be thankful for this year.

--

[ickypuppi3]

billy’s mom waking him up while it’s still dark, whispering even though neil’s working the night shift. it’s a couple days before his tenth birthday and she’s telling him they’re going to have their very own adventure, just like the ones in billy’s books. she grabs an already packed suitcase from under billy’s bed and kisses him on the nose, tells him to get dressed quick. the two of them leave in an old beat up yellow bug that she managed to get for a third of the asking price and keep parked around the corner until now. they stay with friends and jump from place to place so neil can’t track them down. billy gets used to surfing couches and staying in motels.

he spends his tenth birthday in a diner, his mom gets him a big stack of pancakes and a milkshake with extra cherries. gets a candle out her pocket along with her silver lighter. sings happy birthday and pulls a face when the waitress frowns at them, just to make billy laugh. she sips at her coffee while billy tucks in. smiles when he holds some out with a “c’mon mama, share with me.”

billy thinks it’s neat. thinks it’s the best birthday he’s ever had.

they eventually end up with a place in california, a little bungalow near the coast and billy grows up with his mom. billy gets pretty shirts from the thrift store ‘cause his mama lets him do stuff like that. doesn’t call him a queer, doesn’t force a baseball bat into his hands whilst yelling at him for crying, for being a pussy. his mom lets him read and keep a journal and press flowers between the pages of the neverending story, she plays hendrix and dusty springfield and laughs when billy comes home from his friends’ house with his first piercing at thirteen. she doesn’t tear down his posters or yell when she finds him using her eyeliner.

and everything’s perfect. sort of.

they have bad days- billy’s mom has bad days. billy calls them gray days ‘cause that’s how the world looks when she’s like this. all her color gone. no singing-dancing in the kitchen or baking five different kinds of cake because she couldn’t decide which one was best, no last minute trips to the beach or sitting outside at night and telling billy about the stars. instead she’ll stay in bed, won’t go to work. she’ll stare at the wall blankly and look right through billy when he tries to talk to her. she won’t take the pills the doc gave her and billy doesn’t know what to do. never knows what to do. just chews at his lip until it bleeds, bites at his thumb until it’s red raw. he’ll get in the bed with her. lay beside her and just talk like she used to do with him when he had a nightmare. hum a song to her.

billy’s still pissed at the world just slightly less so. still has that anger and anxiousness simmering just below the surface and shows his teeth when cornered. he’s still hardened in a way that a kid shouldn’t be but. it’s different. there’s no neil. the only bloody noses he gets are at school, when he fights with the kids who call him a fag and a fairy, call his mom a basket case. he uses fists when they laugh and ask if she’s all there with a finger pointing at their heads, ask if billy will “catch the crazy.”

those are billy’s bad days. sitting in the principals office, icing his knuckles.

when he’s fifteen, billy manages to bag a job at the local auto repair by turning up every day and telling howie how good he’d be, that he knows cars and it’s all he wants to do and please please please. eyebrows pulled together, eyes puppy dog wide and hands clasped in front of him until howie grumbles, throws an oily rag at billy. says fine but billy’s gotta pay for anything he damages. someone brings in a chevy camaro and billy asks howie to let him help fix it up. does the begging again until howie laughs. says get a hold of yourself, kid, voice fond as he ruffles billy’s hair.

billy’s four months away from turning seventeen when the doorbell goes. he’s eating a sandwich and watching knight rider. he’s wearing the necklace his mom got him for his last birthday and- he answers the door. doesn’t think twice. freezes when he sees neil standing there. he looks different. hair a little shorter and more wrinkles. where billy’s gained weight, gained muscle, neil’s lost it. his eyes are a little sunken and he’s still got his wedding band on. he reeks of booze. billy has to remind himself to speak, just says “yeah?” his voice comes out small and neil smiles at him. smiles and billy feels this weird twist in his stomach ‘cause .. that’s his dad and he hasn’t seen him in years and it twists and twists and-

turns out. not much has changed. billy realises a little too late that neil will always be neil. they run again. have to leave everything behind. billy doesn’t get to say bye to his friends, to howie, to the car. they leave a lot of stuff behind and head in any direction away from neil. they both try to keep the mood light, take turns driving and play the tapes billy grabbed. they end up in indiana- hawkins. they stay at a motel until billy’s mom finds a place for dirt cheap. it has two bedrooms and a dingy bathroom, a living room slash kitchen and one hell of a damp problem. it’s dirt cheap for a reason.

it’s above a shop in town and- it’s fine. their landlord is an asshole but they’re together and they’ve got a roof over their heads. billy’s enrolled at hawkins high and his mom gets a job at the laundromat. he tells her that he doesn’t need to go to school, that he could just work and help pay the bills but his mom won’t have any of it. says that she wishes she had finished school and that billy’s too clever to waste it. that he has potential.

billy knows the reason she dropped out of school was because she had him. he just nods, rests his head on her shoulder.

it’s billy’s first day at school and his mom drives him to make sure he actually goes. he gets out the car and tries to shake the nerves off. straightens up and puts on his act. plasters a fake smile on his face and it’s working, he’s got most of the girls swooning and the boys at least seem curious. billy looks around and his eyes land on a guy leaning up against a bmw. his hair’s coiffed to high heaven and he’s wearing a polo, preppy as fuck but- pretty. it’s one of the first things billy realises about him, all doe eyes and moles dotted just about everywhere. he’s got a smirk on his face. not aimed at billy but the guy beside him.

pretty-boy walks over to him and billy raises an eyebrow, plays it cool. he introduces himself as steve and billy gets the idea that he’s top dog at hawkins high, is immediately proved right when they step into the building. king steve, freckles calls him. billy laughs- catches steve looking at him when he does and feels his face get hot. steve just smiles wider, calls billy california and tells him to sit with them at lunch. billy tries to ignore the way steve’s smile makes him feel like the rug’s been pulled out from under his feet.

he nods and steve grins. tugs at one of billy’s curls.

says “i think you’re gonna like it here, california.”

[paverics]

for reference here is what i am currently reading

also on my list; she who became the sun, malice, our wives under the sea, delilah green doesn’t care, house of hunger

me looking specifically for wlw books: literal tumbleweeds

me casually browsing on goodreads: I HEARD YOU LIKE LESBIANS? YOU’RE A FAN OF BISEXUALITY? AN ENJOYER OF LADIES? COME INSIDE AND SIT DOWN GIRL BECAUSE I HAVE SOME GREAT NEWS