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#we would not tell my grandma or my uncle
pointlesshroom · 10 months
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thinking about how the first time I saw an older gay couple in real life. it was my cousin, not all that much older than me, just 10 years or so, and his partner - who was only ever referred to by his name, no title to signify their relationship whatsoever, sometimes maybe as a friend. but. they were adults with jobs and an apartment and cats. they were both invited over for sunday dinners, holidays. his partner brought paints and kid sized easel for my cousin's nice and help her figure it out (acrylics! none of that baby stuff).
god, i couldn't stop staring. i wasn't even that young, 17 i think, i've already figured out my own queerness, i strongly suspected my cousin's. i've seen queer couples on the internet, watched youtube channels of happy, queer couples with jobs and houses and pets and kids. and yet. and yet. i could not stop staring. wide eyed. silent. awkward. i could feel everyone glancing at me, i could feel my aunt watching me but i couldn't stop staring.
because yes, i've seen all this beautiful queerness from all over but it was never this real. in my country. in my, especially conservative, region. in my family. mine.
i keep trying to describe this feeling and the only word rattling around in my brain is: visceral
i keep thinking about it and about how, mere two years later, i went to a wedding at the other side of the family with my girlfriend. and how my cousin, not all that younger than me, just 8 years or so, kept staring
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myname-isnia · 18 days
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*Has very long emotional talk with grandma that brought both of us to tears* "This is so UtOS coded"
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munson-blurbs · 11 months
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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8
Summary: Thanksgiving brings back memories of happier times, and all you want is to recreate the past. But when those plans go awry, Eddie--and Harris, of course--are there to help you look forward to the future.
Warnings: mentions of Eddie's parents, brief familial conflict, Reader's grandma has dementia, most of this chapter is fluffy tbh
WC: 6.8k
Chapter 8/20
Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @vexed-n-hexed Divider credit to @saradika
Thanksgiving, 1975
The sound of the kitchen timer beeping draws nine-year-old Eddie Munson’s attention from the television set. The local news network had been replaying the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade on a loop. It was now the third time that Eddie had watched Santa Claus make his way into Herald Square in a comically oversized sleigh, but he couldn’t get enough of it. The colorful balloons that hovered over the crowd, the marching bands playing in perfect unison, the feeling of excitement in the air—it was palpable all the way from his new home in Hawkins, Indiana. 
“Dinner’s ready,” Wayne announces, grabbing the worn mitt off of the counter and pulling two TV dinners from the oven. “‘S not much, but at least we got turkey and mashed potatoes,” he bashfully adds. 
Eddie nods, trying to walk without taking his eyes off of the screen. 
Wayne’s bushy brows pinch together as he watches his nephew. “You always get this into the parade?” he asks. 
“Never seen it before,” Eddie says softly. His parents had had a TV for a couple of years until they’d pawned it, but he doesn’t recall ever watching a parade. “Pretty cool.”
“We can keep it on while we eat, if ya want,” Wayne tells him, smiling when he sees the boy’s face light up. He places the plastic trays on the snack table and heads back to grab forks. “Ya got a favorite balloon? I’m partial to Snoopy, if y’ask me.”
Eddie nods, still transfixed on the TV. “Yeah, Snoopy’s good. I like him.” He takes the utensil from Wayne’s outstretched hand, absentmindedly dipping it in the congealed mashed potatoes. He pauses for a beat before bringing it to his lips. “Do I have to go back?”
“Hm?” Wayne mumbles, too focused on his own food to fully hear him. 
“Do I have to go back with them when they get out?” Eddie repeats, keeping his voice low and training his gaze on the floor. “‘Cause I like it better here. With you. ‘S nice and quiet.”
There’s a lurch in Wayne’s chest at Eddie’s request. “Technically, I only have ya till your folks are sprung,” he admits, scratching a nail against the table, “but I can talk to a lawyer or somethin’ about keeping you here longer. Only if you want,” he adds. 
“I wanna stay here,” Eddie confirms, spearing a pale turkey slice and popping it in his mouth without any attempt to cut it. “If it’s okay with you. I can sleep on the cot an’ you can take your bed back.”
Wayne shakes his head. “Room’s yours, Ed.” He takes a deep breath. “I don’t wanna promise you that the courts will agree to it, but I’m gonna try my damndest to keep you safe.” And it’s true. He’ll work double overtime at the plant if it’ll cover legal fees. When the social worker dropped Eddie off last week, Wayne had no idea how either of them would adjust. But aside from a few growing pains—like having to shave his nephew’s head when they’d discovered he’d had lice—things seemed to be alright. 
“I, um, I wrote something at school yesterday,” Eddie pipes up, traipsing to his backpack and pulling out a sheet of paper. In his sloppy, boyish handwriting is written:
I am thankful for my Uncle Wayne because he takes care of me. He’s really nice and he works hard and he doesn’t mind that I listen to loud music. He also lets me feed my dinner scraps to the stray dogs in his trailer park. My Uncle Wayne is the best. I hope he’s thankful for me, too. 
Wayne feels his throat constrict, and he clears it before Eddie can catch on. “‘Course I’m thankful for ya, Ed,” he manages. He reaches out to put his hand on his nephew’s back, flinching when the boy jerks away nervously. Eddie’s reflex to defend himself rather than embrace touch stirs up a reserved anger Wayne didn’t know he had, and he wills himself to simmer down before his nephew can sense it, lest he think he’s angry at him.  
He slowly brings his hand to the couch cushion, careful not to make too much noise. We’ll get there, he thinks as the parade starts up for a fourth time. We’ll get there. 
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Thanksgiving, 1978
Ten years old is a strange age. 
Too old to play with the little kids, but too young to hang around the teenagers or adults. You’re just kind of…there, like a piece of furniture that everyone absently walks around. This hiss of beer cans opening is barely audible over the men shouting at the football game on TV. You don’t know who’s playing, and you don’t really care, but it’s the only place you feel like you’ll be out of the way. Taking a seat on the floor, you remain there generally unnoticed until one of your uncles calls out your name.
“Couldja get me a refill?” Uncle Tim slurs, shaking his empty can of Bud Light to emphasize his request. Before you can respond, he throws a, “thanks, kid” and goes back to yelling at the football players.
It’s not like they can hear you through the screen, you snidely think, but you keep your comment to yourself as you pad into the kitchen. A collection of spices tickles your nose, the mixture of cloves and garlic and thyme and rosemary warming the room. You rummage through the refrigerator until you feel someone bump up against you.
“What are you doing in there?” Your aunt asks, disapproval carving her already sharp features. Her gaze drops to the can in your hand. “Seriously? Trying to sneak beer right in front of us?” she scoffs. 
Grandma quickly becomes aware of the commotion, and she wipes her hand on her sunny yellow apron as she assesses the situation. “Everything okay?” Her soft eyes are concerned, not accusing, and you feel your anxiety slowly dissipating.
“I caught her trying to steal some beer,” your aunt reports proudly, as though she’s caught some serial offender, and you have to fight the urge to roll your eyes. “Not even a teenager yet and already getting into this kind of trouble.” She shakes her head with a tsk. 
“No, I wasn’t,” you insist, setting your jaw in defiance. “Uncle Tim asked me to get some more for him. That’s all.”
“Tim!” Grandma calls out, tone thick with irritation. “Get over here!”
 Uncle Tim trudges out to the kitchen, head already hung low in anticipation of the tongue-lashing he’s about to receive. He may be a grown man, but his mother can easily put him in his place.
Grandma folds her arms across her chest. “Why are you having your niece fetch your drinks like a barmaid? Your legs broken or something?”
“No,” he mumbles, taking the beer from your hand and haphazardly tossing a “sorry” in your direction before returning to the game.
“C’mere,” Grandma beckons you, crooking her finger to join her at the counter. She’s got a bowl of Granny Smith apples, half of them peeled, their green skins piling on the cutting board in front of her. She hands you the peeler, picking up a sharp knife and cutting a peeled apple lengthwise and cubing each slice. “Help me out. It goes a lot faster when there’s two of us. And it’ll keep you out of trouble,” she adds with a wink.
You grab an unpeeled apple from the pile and drag the tool down its curve, repeating the motion until the inner fruit is exposed before starting on the next one. You and Grandma work in tandem; you peel and she chops in a comfortable silence. As you’re finishing up the last of the bunch, she leans over and whispers in your ear, “Don’t tell anyone, but you’re the best helper I’ve ever had.” She starts placing the cubed pieces into a pot, shaking the cinnamon container over it until she takes a satisfied step back, no measuring spoon required. “Mix it together for me?” 
You nod eagerly and pluck the wooden spoon from the canister behind the sink, dunking it into the pot and stirring until the apples are fully coated in cinnamon. “That good?” you ask, giving another stir for good measure.
“Perfect.” Grandma smiles, covering the mixture with water and setting it on an empty burner, twisting the knob until the coil turns red. “Once it softens up, you can mash it. Give these old arms a break,” she teases gently.
“You’re not old!” you protest, and she smacks a kiss to the top of your head.
“I love you, kiddo,” she murmurs, voice muffled against your scalp. “To the moon and back.”
You wrap your arms around her waist and squeeze her tight. “I love you, too. To the moon and back.”
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Thanksgiving, 1996
“Daddy, look! It’s Santa!” Harris points at the TV excitedly, bouncing up and down on the couch. He kicks his feet and squeals. “He’s gonna come to our house, right? An’ bring me presents?”
Eddie chuckles as he spreads mayonnaise on white bread, layering thin turkey slices on top. Three sandwiches for three Munsons. “I dunno, Har-Bear; have you been good this year?” 
Harris scrunches up his face in contemplation. “Um, I think so,” he answers honestly. “I can’t remember.”
“Hey, Wayne?” Eddie calls out as his uncle walks out of the bathroom. “Has Harris been good this year? I feel like he’s been a bit…mischievous.”
Wayne shakes his head. “My angel of a grandson? He’s never caused mischief a day in his little life!” He sits down next to Harris, letting out a small grunt as his bottom hits the sofa cushion. 
“Yeah! I never cause mischief a day in my little life!” Harris echoes confidently. He turns to his grandfather. “Grampa, what is Santa gonna bring you for Christmas?”
“A toupée,” Eddie says from the tiny kitchen, piling their plates with potato chips. Normally, he’d make sure there was a fruit or vegetable on there, but it’s a holiday. 
Wayne has to hold his tongue in front of the impressionable young boy, though he shoots Eddie an inconspicuous middle finger when he’s setting the plates on the coffee table. 
The three Munsons tuck into their sandwiches and crunch on the chips. This is how Thanksgiving has been since Eddie moved back with Harris: watching the parade followed by an early lunch so Wayne could pick up a shift at the plant. He always insisted on it, saying that the holiday pay helps offset the cost of Christmas presents. It was quiet, but nice, and Eddie couldn’t ask for anything else.
“Y’know,” Wayne says to Harris with a mouthful of sandwich, “the first time your Daddy watched the parade was with me. And now, we got to watch it with you.” He bumps his arm against Harris’s, making the boy giggle. 
“Oh, yeah,” Eddie muses, chomping on a potato chip thoughtfully as the memories flood back in. “Forgot about that. Is Snoopy still your favorite, Old Man?” 
Wayne considers this. “Hmm. Who’s our favorite balloon this year, Har?”
“Clifford!” Harris answers without missing a beat, kicking his little legs in excitement. Eddie should’ve known; the boy was damn near obsessed with dogs.
Once we can afford a house with a yard, I’m getting you that puppy, Har-Bear, he thinks, though he doesn’t dare make the promise aloud.
“Then that’s mine, too.” Wayne brushes the crumbs off of his lap, calloused hands scratching the worn denim of his jeans. There’s a twinkle in his eye as he adds, “I wonder what Ms. Sweetheart’s favorite balloon is.” He acts like he’s speaking to Harris, but Eddie knows it was aimed at him.
Harris claps his hands together gleefully. “I know! Let’s call her!” He turns to Eddie with the sweetest puppy-dog eyes the man has ever seen, lower lip jutted out exaggeratedly in the most precious pout. “Please, Daddy? Pleasepleasepleaseplease–”
“Okay, okay,” Eddie says with a laugh, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. “Once you finish up lunch, we can call her.” Harris opens his mouth to protest that he wants to call right now, but Eddie cuts him off before he can start. “Ah ah; no whining, or we won’t call.”
Harris harrumphs but ultimately complies, taking another bite of his food. Wayne gives Eddie a small thumbs-up, and he preens slightly at the acknowledgment of his parenting win. They didn’t happen very often, and they rarely happened when someone was around to witness them. He takes a long gulp of water; as soon as he does, his son lifts his own cup to his lips and takes a sip. Another reminder that he’s watching, even subconsciously, wanting to be just like his dad.
For a split second, Eddie allows himself to believe that that might not be a bad thing.
“‘M done!” Harris chirps; sure enough, his plate is clean, save for the bread crusts. He squirms a bit in his seat, a gesture that Eddie has come to learn means only one thing.
“Go pee while I find her number,” Eddie tells him, purposely omitting the fact that he’s already committed those seven digits to memory. In case of an emergency, he thinks, and I don’t have the slip of paper on me.
Wayne can sense that his nephew isn’t being completely truthful; as soon as Harris closes the bathroom door behind him, he starts in with a shit-eating grin.
“Y’don’t need to find her number, do ya?”
Eddie flicks off an imaginary speck of dust on his shirts. “Knock it off, Wayne.” But he doesn’t move from his spot on the couch, further affirming his uncle’s point.
“Look, Ed,” Wayne exhales, adopting a more serious tone. “You clearly like this girl. I mean, all Harris did was say her name and you smiled–don’t give me that look,” he chastises lightly when Eddie rolls his eyes. “I know you two didn’t exactly get off on the right foot, but all that seems to be in the past now, right?”
“Guess so,” Eddie mumbles. “But not hating me doesn’t mean she’s into me. Maybe she’s only being nice to me because of Harris.”
The older Munson pauses, scratching at the stubble on his cheeks; his reflex when he’s deep in thought. “One date,” he challenges, holding up his forefinger to emphasize his point. “Ask her on one date, and see where it goes.”
“Fine,” Eddie relents, the nerves already churning in his stomach. You’d just found this good rhythm together, and he was going to risk messing it up. Again. “I’ll ask her. But on one condition.”
“Whas’ that?”
“Don’t say anything to Harris.” He crosses his arms over his chest when Wayne chuckles. “‘M serious, Wayne. I don’t want him getting his hopes up. For Chrissakes, I gave her a tape and the kid had us getting married.”
“Fair enough,” Wayne agrees, clamping his mouth shut when he sees the little boy enter the room. “You wash your hands?”
“Yep!”
“With soap?” he presses, narrowing his eyes.
Harris heaves an impatient sigh. “Yes! Can we call now?”
Both Wayne and Harris keep their eyes glued to Eddie as he punches in the numbers. When it starts ringing, he holds out the receiver to his son. “Say hi and your name when she picks up,” he reminds him, grateful for the opportunity to collect himself before asking you on a date. He takes a deep breath, shoving his hands in his pockets and gnawing on his lower lip so forcefully that he swears it might bleed.
You got this, Munson. The worst she can say is no.
But that’s not quite true, is it? The worst you can do is laugh in his face, leaving him a rejected mess. Scratch that–the worst you could do is accept the date, have him fall head over heels in love with you, then leave him in the dust to pick up the pieces while you move on with someone better. 
Maybe you won’t pick up the phone. Maybe he’ll have more time to–
“Hi, Ms. Sweetheart! It’s me, Harris!”
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It was a small thing. Miniscule, even. Just your meager attempt at reclaiming part of the past that had been lost to time and disease. A simple family recipe, apples boiled and mashed into a sauce that you’d hoped even vaguely resembled the way Grandma made it. A tiny cut on your fingertip serves as a battle wound from peeling, the sweet aroma of cinnamon still lingering in the kitchen.
You try to convince yourself that it isn’t a big deal. It’s just applesauce. But the thought falls flat as you stare into the trash can. You can still see all of your work literally tossed away through the tears that blur your vision.
You’d left the room for two minutes, two goddamn minutes, and when you came back, the plastic pink bowl that held the applesauce was nowhere to be found. You could’ve sworn you left it on the counter, but maybe you’d already put it away? A quick scan of the refrigerator gave you nothing but a chill. Where the hell did it go? Were you losing your mind?
A rogue apple peel had fallen to the floor, and you scooped it up, flustered at how you could have misplaced an entire bowl of applesauce. Sure, it wasn’t as much as when you and Grandma made it for the whole family, but it was still a decent amount. Your foot presses the pedal that lifts the bin’s lid, and that’s when you see it.
“Grandma?” you choke out, looking over to where she’s sitting on the couch. She doesn’t respond, and you raise your voice a bit to grab her attention. “Grandma, why did you throw out the applesauce?”
Her empty gaze briefly flits over to where you’re standing, not even registering the burgeoning frustration and sadness coursing through your veins. “Wasn’t me,” she says flatly, scratching at the side of her nose with a jagged nail. Before dementia, her nails were always painted bright hues of red or blue; now, it was difficult enough to get her to leave the house for essential doctor’s appointments. You weren’t going to put up a fight trying to get her to the salon.
You know you should just close the lid and walk away instead of torturing yourself by continuing to look, but your feet are glued to the linoleum floor. A cold drop of something lands on your toes, and that’s when you realize that you’re crying. Crying over goddamn applesauce.
All you wanted was some semblance of normalcy, something reminiscent of life before Grandma got sick and your family still felt whole. But what you got was a thickening realization that you can’t relive the past, no matter how hard you try.
The ringing phone startles you from your wallowing. You have half a mind to ignore it, but you know that Grandma will just grumble about how she hates the sound of it, so you pick up the receiver and answer with a shaky, “H-Hello?”
“Hi, Ms. Sweetheart! It’s me, Harris!” A little voice chirps through the other end. You can hear Eddie mumbling something, though you can’t quite make out what he’s saying. “Happy Thanksgiving! What’s your favorite balloon?” There’s more hushed speaking from Eddie, and Harris huffs out, “Daddy, stop! I know what to say!” 
“My favorite balloon from the parade?” you ask, biting back a giggle. 
“Mhm! I like Clifford,” he tells you.
You’d kept the parade on in the background, catching glimpses of it every now and again. Shit, what balloons did you see? “Clifford’s a good one,” you agree, “but I think the Rocky and Bullwinkle one was my favorite.”
Harris laughs so loudly that you have to pull the phone from your ear. “The squirrel and the moose?” he guffaws. “Ms. Sweetheart, that’s so silly!” You’re about to ask him how his holiday is going when he says, “Hold on, my daddy wants to talk to you.”
Your heart skips a beat at the prospect of talking to Eddie, and you wipe the tears from your wet cheeks as though he’ll be able to see them through the phone.
“Hey, Happy Thanksgiving!” he says. Something resembling trepidation tinges his tone, though you’re not sure why. Could he still be anxious to approach you after he confided in you at the parent-teacher conference? After he’d watched you panic when Grandma locked herself in her room?
You swallow, trying to choke down the sadness rising within you. “Yeah, y-you, too.” Despite your best efforts, your voice breaks on the last word, and you hope Eddie doesn’t catch it.
But of course he does.
“You okay?” he asks with a nervous chuckle. “‘Cause it kinda sounds like you’re crying.”
“‘M fine. Just, um, chopping onions,” you lie, hoping you’ve done a convincing job.
“For the…applesauce you’re making?” Eddie sees right through you; you’d forgotten that you’d told him and Harris about your plan during your weekly post-tutoring dinner last night. “Not gonna lie, that sounds even nastier than olives on pizza.”
You manage a laugh, but it’s disfigured by the catch in your throat. “The applesauce was a bust, unfortunately,” you admit. “I left the kitchen for a second and Grandma chucked it in the trash.”
“All of it?” he asks incredulously, letting out a deep exhale when you confirm that she did, in fact, throw out the entire bowl. “Jesus H. I’m so sorry. Is that what’s got you upset?”
“Mhm. I know it’s stupid, ‘s just applesauce, but–”
“‘S not stupid,” Eddie interrupts softly, and you twist the phone cord around your pointer finger with the sudden drop of his tone. “I know you were really looking forward to it.” He pauses, and you wonder for a moment if the line’s gone dead before he says, “We’re coming over. Me and Harris. Be there in twenty; fifteen, if I don’t have to argue with him about wearing a jacket.”
Before you can protest, he really does hang up. You look down at the baggy sweats and college t-shirt you’re wearing; you weren’t expecting any guests today, let alone the Munson boys. You should probably throw on some actual pants, and a bit of mascara couldn’t hurt, either.
You find a pair of jeans that aren’t buried under a mountain of laundry and tug them over your thighs before quickly swiping some makeup on your face. It’s enough to mask your exhaustion while still looking natural.
It dawns on you that you’re not quite sure why you suddenly care so much about your appearance. Harris couldn’t care less, and Eddie…well, even if Eddie did care, why would that matter to you? He’s your tutee’s parent; a new friend at most. On more than one occasion, you’ve answered the door to Jess with a wicked case of bedhead. Why does Eddie Munson of all people make you feel the need to look halfway decent?
When the buzzer sounds, you nearly jump out of your own skin. “It’s us,” Eddie says into the speaker; the smoothness of his voice has your stomach in knots. “And we come bearing gifts. Well, one gift, I guess.”
“Fuck off,” Grandma mumbles from the couch, cranking up the TV volume to an ungodly loud level. One of the Law & Order detectives says–no, screams–something about a murder, and you quickly reach for the remote and click the power button.
“We have company,” you tell her, and she just grunts in response. Hopefully her mood will change in the minute it will take Eddie and Harris to get to your apartment. You can hear them down the hallway, so you open the door just as they’re about to knock.
Eddie takes a step back in surprise. “You psychic or somethin’?” he laughs, looking down at his son and giving him a small nudge. “Go ahead, you can give it to her.”
Your gaze drops to the curly-haired boy standing by his father’s side. He’s holding a brightly colored package of off-brand Oreos, which he brings closer to his chest, pressing it tightly against his zippered sweatshirt. “It’s s’posed to be a surprise,” he reminds Eddie, wide-eyed with genuine concern.
“Only until we got here,” Eddie says gently, soft brown eyes encouraging Harris to hand you the cookies. He brings his attention back to you. “I know it’s not the same as making applesauce with your grandma, but I’ve never been sad eating an Oreo. An oatmeal raisin cookie, maybe. But not an Oreo.”
Now it’s your turn to smile. “You may be onto something here, Munson.” You take the package from Harris and guide the two of them to the kitchen, calling out to Grandma as you pass by. “Grandma, Eddie and Harris are here, and they brought cookies, if you wanna join us.” Her non-response is familiar at this point; the sting is much easier to brush off than it was a few short months ago. But you still feel it.
Even though Grandma isn’t at the table, Harris still climbs onto his dad’s lap. “Daddy, can I have one?” he asks, resting his dimpled chin on his palms as he glances upwards.
“Gotta ask Ms. Sweetheart,” Eddie shrugs, tickling Harris’s ribs and loudly whispering, “and ask her if your poor, hungry dad can have one, too. She can’t say no to you.”
You open the package and shake your head at his antics, sliding out the flimsy tray and offering it to them. “Of course you can have one, Harris,” you say, tone saccharine sweet. His chubby fingers darting out and snatching up a cookie before you even finish your sentence. “But I don’t know about your dad. Do you think he should get one?”
“C’mon, Har,” Eddie urges him, “us men gotta stick together. All for one and one for all, right?” He flexes his bicep; it’s an attempt to emphasize the manliness that supposedly bonds him and Harris, but the gesture has your breath catching in your throat. You sputter and cough embarrassingly, excusing yourself to pour a glass of water. 
“Anyone else want?” you manage once you can speak again, holding up the ceramic pitcher. 
Eddie nods, lifting Harris from his lap and placing him on the nearest empty chair. “Here, let me help you.” He stands up and calls out over his shoulder, “Grandma, how about some water?”
You’re about to tell him not to worry about it, but to your surprise, she nods. ��Ya.”
“So, four waters,” Eddie reports, taking the pitcher and refilling your glass. 
You grab another just like it from the cabinet before taking two blue disposable ones, plopping a bendy straw in each. “Grandma, um, she needs stuff that isn’t breakable,” you explain lamely. “And the other plastic one is for Harris.”
Eddie grins. “Thought it was for me. Y’know, always making a mess.”
“Ah, but only of your life,” you tease. “You’re pretty good with basic human functions.” Your face burns at what you’ve potentially implied, but Eddie isn’t fazed. 
“Y’know what? I’m gonna take my cookies back!” he pouts, crossing his arms over his chest in mock-indignance. A piece of curly hair sticks to his lower lip with his sudden movement, and you brush it away with your thumb before you can stop yourself. 
The crinkling of the fake-Oreo package draws both of your gazes, with Eddie poised to tell Harris that he’s only allowed one more. But to your surprise—and perhaps Eddie’s, too—Harris isn’t the one rifling through the tray. Grandma’s taken a seat next to the boy, handing him a cookie before taking her own. She just nibbles on it in silence, but it’s the most present she’s been in days. 
“Y’like Oreos, Grandma?” Eddie asks, pouring water into the two plastic glasses and carrying one in each ringed hand. He places them on the table, and Grandma brings the straw to her lips as she nods again. He pauses for a moment, lips tucked into his mouth as he ponders something. “What kind of music does she listen to?” he asks you. 
“She has a record collection over in the living room,” you tell him, pointing to the low bookshelf near the door, “but we haven’t played any in awhile. She’s kinda…weird with noises.”
He considers this, walking over to the records and thumbing through them until he finds one that he recognizes. “Could I put this one on?” He holds up the battered copy of Frank Sinatra’s It Might As Well Be Swing. “I’ll take it off if she gets upset. I just wanna try something.” He carefully slides the record from its sleeve, lifting the player’s needle and placing it on the space for the first track. 
There’s a soft static as the record starts to spin, and Ol’ Blue Eyes croons: 
Fly me to the moon
Let me play among the stars
Let me see what spring is like
On a-Jupiter and Mars
Eddie joins in with the next part. His voice still carries its signature rasp, but it’s noticeably smoother, warmer than the night he’d dedicated the Def Leppard song to you. 
In other words, hold my hand
In other words, baby, kiss me
His eyes remain trained on the record player, but you swear you can feel the lyrics drifting towards you. The melody wraps around you like a hug, and you momentarily lose yourself in a musical embrace. 
Another voice, low and timid, chimes in. You have to stifle a gasp when you realize that it’s Grandma, her lips curling into the smallest of smiles–the most joy she’s shown in a long while–as she half-sings the words. 
Fill my heart with song
And let me sing for ever more
You are all I long for
All I worship and adore
“Holy shit,” you breathe out, and before you can exhale the third syllable, the world shifts back to normal. Grandma goes back to mindlessly munching on her cookie as though nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. You turn to Eddie. “What was that?”
He shrugs, suddenly feeling shy. “I read somewhere that music can, like, bring back some memories. Not permanently or anything, but I figured it was worth a shot.”
You can’t stop yourself from flinging your arms around Eddie’s neck, nearly knocking him over in the process. He pauses before he returns the gesture, pulling you tightly into him. One hand is on the small of your back; the other gently rests on the back of your head, allowing you to rest your forehead on his chest. Your tears flow freely, leaving tiny wet spots on his shirt. He doesn’t let go until you start to pull back. 
“Thank you,” you whisper; when he pinches his brows in confusion, you elaborate. “You gave me back a little piece of who she was before…” you trail off, swiping at your cheeks messily. “Just…thank you.”
Eddie nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. His eyes are practically glued to your lips; this time, when his fingers brush against your palm, he hooks his pinky with yours. “‘Course,” he murmurs.
You’re not sure how long the two of you remain linked like this, joined hands swaying ever-so-slightly as Fly Me to the Moon fades out to I Wish You Love. It’s somewhere between ten seconds and ten years, because time seemingly slows to a halt. 
You might stay with pinkies hooked forever if Harris doesn’t bolt from his chair, hugging your waist and looking up at you with concern. 
“Ms. Sweetheart?” he asks. His wide, misty eyes indicate that he’s absorbed some of the emotion in the room, though he may not even be aware of this. “Why are you sad?” His chubby fingers grab onto the fabric of your pants.
You choke out a tearful laugh as you crouch down to meet him at his level. “I’m not sad…well, I’m sad and happy at the same time,” you try to explain, shaking your head when you realize you’re only adding to his puzzlement. “Grown-up feelings are weird sometimes, Har. But your hugs definitely help.”
With that, he squeezes you tighter, and you glance at Eddie with a full heart. He takes a step forward, scooping up Harris. You worry that you’ve crossed a line, that you’ve shown too much of your vulnerability to a four-year-old, but your fears are subdued when Eddie extends one arm and brings you back to both him and his son. Something brushes against your scalp, and you realize that he’s pressing a light kiss to the top of your head. 
Harris squirms, and when Eddie puts him down, he runs over to the TV set. “Can I watch something?” It’s clear that the moment has passed, and Eddie throws you an apologetic shrug as he waits for your response.
“Sure,” you say, trying to pepper cheerfulness into your voice. It’s easier now that the wave of loneliness has passed, taking with it some of the mourning you’d clung to earlier today. You click on the TV and flip through channels until a familiar cartoon appears on the screen. “I think we’re just in time to watch A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving!” you exclaim, and Harris mirrors your enthusiasm by flinging himself onto the couch, making his dad cringe.
“Careful, little dude,” Eddie says, clicking off the record player and gently placing the vinyl back in its sleeve. “You just got that cast off a few days ago. Don’t need you to break another bone.” Certainly don’t need another hospital bill, he thinks bitterly. He takes the spot next to Harris, silently begging you to join them. 
You turn to the kitchen table and put a hand on Grandma’s shoulder. “You wanna watch Charlie Brown with us?” But she rejects your invitation with a simple shake of her head, mumbling something about being tired and padding into her room. 
You take the empty space to Harris’s left so that the boy is sandwiched between you and his father. He’s a small kid, but it seems like there’s an entire ocean separating you and Eddie. 
“Why’s Lucy so mean?” Harris asks no one in particular. “She’s always yelling. Like Ms. Marion.” You have to stifle a giggle at that observation, and when you allow yourself a glance, you see that Eddie’s doing the same. 
The first half of the movie is filled with Harris’s constant commentary; he speaks more than all of the cartoon characters combined. But he tires out eventually, though in typical four-year-old fashion, he denies his sleepiness even as he’s yawning. He fights it pretty well, you’ve got to give him credit where it’s due, but eventually, the exhaustion takes over and he lays his head on your arm. His curls tickle your elbow, and you gingerly reposition him so he’s tucked up against your side. 
“You can move him over, if you get uncomfortable or somethin’. Kid sleeps like a rock. Except, y’know, when I need him to sleep.” Eddie snickers as Harris lets out the softest, tiniest snore. 
You return the laughter and shake your head. “Nah, I’m good,” you reassure him, smiling at the ruddy cheek pressed against you. “Don’t tell my other students, but Harris is the cutest kid ever.”
Eddie shrugs, but you can tell that the compliment tickles him. “Well, it makes sense, since his dad is a total stud.” He waggles his eyebrows before turning his attention back to Charlie and Lucy. You’re not quite sure how to respond to that; if you play it off as a joke, you risk hurting his feelings. If you tell him the truth–
“D’you like coffee?”
His sudden, seemingly arbitrary question snaps you from your indecision. “I teach four-year-olds,” you reply lightheartedly, hoping he can’t sense your mind continuing to linger on his stud comment. “I practically have coffee running through my veins. What about you?”
“I have a four-year-old, so, same.” He clears his throat, seemingly double-checking that his son is still sound asleep. His leg is bouncing up and down, and he nearly has to press on his knee to get it to stop. “Um, Harris is going to a birthday party next Saturday morning if you wanted to get some with me? Get some coffee, I mean.” He silently chastises himself, wondering if he’d ever been suave around women or if it had just been the unearned confidence of a young man in his early twenties convincing him that he had. 
“Like...like a date?” Fuck, do you sound too eager? “Because if you feel like you owe me a date after…after our night at the bar, you don’t have to. I forgave you after you gave me those M&Ms, remember?”
“Yeah…wait, no. Hold on.” Eddie holds up his pointer finger as he collects his thoughts. He could deny that it’s a date altogether and throw out some bullshit lie about it just being something between friends. But he promised Wayne, promised himself that he’d give this a shot.  “Yes, I’m asking you on a date. No, it’s not because I feel like I owe you one–although I definitely do,” he adds with a goofy grin that sends flutters to your stomach. “It’s because, fuck, I can’t stop thinking about you, and how happy you make me–and Harris, too–and how I get kinda nervous around you, which makes no sense because you’re, like, the nicest fuckin’ person ever. Oh my God, why can’t I stop talking?”
“Eddie.” The way you say his name is like a song he could replay forever. “I’d really like to get coffee with you. I just need to see if someone can watch Grandma…maybe Jess,” you surmise, biting back the fact that you’ll have to withhold your date’s name, lest she subject you to a lecture about sleeping with the enemy.
Eddie nods, swiping the tip of his tongue over his lower lip and smiling. “I can pick you up at noon? If Jess can watch Grandma, of course.”
“Noon works.” You want to kiss him right then and there; if Harris wasn’t nestled in the middle of you both, you might not hold back. “I can let you know on Wednesday when we have dinner together.”
Eddie’s not sure he can wait that long for an answer. What if you’re just buying time to get out of it? What if you’re only being nice to him because you’re afraid that he’ll get angry again and reignite the bitter feud you’d been locked in just a month ago? He swallows the insecurities, gaze flickering to your eyes.
And maybe it’s because you can sense his unease and self-doubt, or maybe it’s because you genuinely want to–Eddie doesn’t know for sure–but he feels you lace your fingers with his, resting your joined hands on his thigh. He shifts his grasp to weave them tighter together, learning back into the couch and allowing his body to relax. His shoulders let go of tension he hadn’t realized he was holding on to, and a contented sigh slips from his lips.
It’s you, him, and Harris. Sitting on the sofa and watching a holiday movie. An unconventional little family, but a family all the same. Eddie swears that he could stay like this forever, a thought that almost has him bursting out in laughter. The same man who had concocted an elaborate method to keep women around without actually committing to them was now reveling in domestic bliss. 
When the movie ends and Harris begins to rouse, Eddie begrudgingly stands with an exaggerated groan. “These old bones, y’know,” he laments with a mischievous click of his tongue. “Everything starts fallin’ apart when you turn thirty.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“Yeah,” he chuckles, lifting Harris onto his hip and rubbing his back to help him fall back to sleep. “I know.” He grabs his keys from the shelf near the door as you walk them out. And before he can wimp out, he leans in and presses his lips to your forehead in a gentle kiss, stubble scratching against your skin. His hands are trembling when he pulls away.
“You’re the best,” he repeats the same statement he’d made on parent-teacher conference night. It’s even more true now than it was then. “We’ll see you on Wednesday for pizza?” And an answer, hopefully a ‘yes.’ “Wednesday,” you echo, still processing the fact that, for the second time today, Eddie Munson’s lips have been on you.
--
@kelsiegrin @lma1986 @munsonology @stuckontheceiling @avobabe87 @eddapwinchester @peachysink @browneyes8288 @jeremyspoke-inclasstoday
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ashwhowrites · 5 months
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okay so this has been in my head forever but imagine cheerleader/rich popular reader and eddie are dating. reader is the daughter of a company ceo and wayne works at the company. wayne absolutely hates his boss because he’s rich and spoiled and his boss hates him because he doesn’t understand where he came from since he never grew up poor or whatever. let’s say one day reader and eddie decide to tell their parents about each other and reader invites eddie and wayne to come to her house for dinner and wayne and her dad are pissed bc they don’t want their kid/nephew associated with each other and like forbid them from being together but they eventually realize how much they mean to each other and like give them permission to date again. i feel like this would be so chaotic and funny but cute and wholesome at the same time
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻
Rich girl, poor boy
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Wayne Munson was a hard-working man who didn't get credit where it was due. He started at the bottom and worked his way through every promotion. But his boss made Wayne's life hell. He kept Wayne at work later and later, giving him random tasks that weren't needed and treating him like scum. His boss was a rich old man, he was bitter and looked down on the people beneath him. Wayne was used to being the poorest man compared to others, but to be targeted because of it by his boss was his last straw. He hated that man and he hated whoever was related to him.
Wayne worked hard for himself but he also worked hard for Eddie. To provide as much as he could for his nephew. That's why he sucked it up and kept working for that twat of a boss.
~~~
"You're home very late," Eddie announced as Wayne walked through the door. The small clock above the couch read midnight as Eddie picked at the cold plate of dinner.
"Tried to wait but I was starved," Eddie said, Wayne brushed it off, heating his plate in the microwave. He waited a few seconds as it heated, grabbing a beer and taking a swig. He grabbed the warm plate and set it on the table.
"It's fine. The boss decided every car on the lot needed a tire cleaning." Wayne grumbled, stuffing his face with semi-warm food, Eddie frowned as he sat across from his uncle.
"Again? You did that last week." Eddie said he could see Wayne's body language was annoyed and exhausted.
"Didn't do good enough last time," Wayne said, rolling his eyes as he ate his first meal of the deal. Eddie watched with a heavy heart as Wayne's tired body ate as fast as he could. He knew once he finished, Wayne would go to bed and do it all over again.
"How was your day, though?" Wayne asked, he tried to keep up with Eddie's life. His parents were deadbeats and never checked up on him. Wayne wanted Eddie to have at least one parent who cared.
"Good! I took Y/N to get ice cream and we listened to new records." Eddie smiled as he recalled his day. Wayne couldn't help but smile along. Eddie had this girlfriend that he was obsessed with. She was popular and a cheerleader. Wayne almost choked on his dinner when Eddie first told him about her. He was nervous that such a popular girl was interested in Eddie, but from every story, she sounded sweet and genuine.
"When do I get to meet the unlucky girl?" Wayne joked, placing his fork on the empty plate.
"Haha," Eddie faked laughed, flipping Wayne off. "She's been asking for our families to meet, and invited us over for dinner on Friday. Think your boss will let you off at a normal time? She wants to do it around seven."
"I'll make him," Wayne promised, a pat on Eddie's head as he made his way to bed.
~~~
"I haven't worn nice clothes since you got baptized." Wayne chuckled, buttoning up his last button, then tucking his shirt into his jeans.
"I'm baptized?" Eddie laughed, also tucking his button-up into his jeans.
"Oh yeah, your mom did it for your grandma before she died. Are you ready?" Wayne asked, grabbing the keys.
~~~
"Eddie!" Y/N cheered, her arms wrapped around him as she snuggled into his neck. She soaked in his warmth for a second before she pulled away. Her eyes were on the older man next to Eddie. She smiled and brought him into a hug as well.
"Oh!" Wayne chuckled, hugging her back softly.
"Eddie talks about you all the time. Nice to see the man that inspires him." Y/N said as she pulled away. Wayne smiled back at her kindness. She had a sweet voice and a bright smile. He could easily see why Eddie fell so fast.
"Nice to meet the girl Eddie constantly talks about. I see he was right about how beautiful you are." Wayne smiled, and Y/N felt herself blush as she looked at Eddie. Her was art warm when he talked about her and believed she was beautiful.
"Well, I'll lead you to the dining room!" She said. Her black dress swayed at the bottom as she turned around. Her heels clicked on the marble floor as the boys followed behind her. Wayne tried to not let his jaw drop as he took in the huge house. The chandelier on the ceiling, the velvet furniture, the plants, and wall art. She came from money, and she came from lots of money.
Eddie was in awe of her house. He didn't think these houses were real. It looked like a scene from a movie. He knew she was rich, but he didn't know she was that rich. She didn't act spoiled, she was humble and even had a part-time job. She wasn't a snob, Eddie wouldn't have guessed she came from this much money based on how she acted.
"Daddy, this is Eddie! My boyfriend, and his uncle, Wayne!" Y/N held Eddie's hand as she introduced them to her dad. Her dad stood up from the table, his eyes settled on the younger man next to his daughter. Then they moved to the older man next to him.
"Son of a bitch." Wayne muttered to himself. Eddie quickly looked at him with confusion. Y/N looked between her dad and Wayne. Not understand why the air got so thick.
"You didn't tell me you were dating a Munson boy." Her dad sneered. Y/N didn't like the way he said Munson like it was a curse.
"Well he didn't mention he was dating a Y/L/N" Wayne growled back. Both men racing their chins higher and higher.
"Away from that boy now!" Her dad said, walking over to yank her arm. Y/N gasped as her grip lost Eddie's.
"Daddy!" She hissed, she couldn't believe his behavior. "What is the problem?"
"That man is a shame excuse of a man. He is scum at the bottom of the earth and you will not be dating no family member of his." He demanded, Y/N felt panic in her chest. Worriedly looking at Eddie.
"Sir, please just give us a chance. I'm not sure how you know Wayne, but he isn't scum! And neither am I. I love your daughter and I know I can take care of her." Eddie tried.
"Not. He works for me! I know exactly how much of a pathetic man he is. How can you take care of her when you are poor, Eddie? My baby girl doesn't belong in a tiny trailer."
"Stop it! You are being so rude." Y/N said, yanking her arm from her dad's grip. She stood productively in front of Eddie. "Eddie is a very nice boy and I love him. How much money he's got has nothing to do with anything."
"You are not dating him. That's an order."
"You can't tell me what to do! We don't need your support." Y/N snapped, her eyes angry as she stared down her dad.
"We have Wayne's and that's all we need," Eddie said, his hand reaching out to grasp hers softly.
"Eddie, you break up this relationship right now," Wayne said Eddie's eyes were huge as he turned around to look at his uncle. Shock is written all over his face.
Y/N's dad smiled as Wayne agreed. Maybe they could have this one small thing in common.
"Wayne!" Eddie exclaimed. He couldn't believe Wayne would suggest that. Y/N felt her heart crack as she turned to look at Wayne.
"Eddie, that man is evil. He is a snob, rude, and will forever look down on the people below him. I'm sure the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. You are getting out while you still can. You are not dating a spoiled brat." Wayne spat out.
"Wayne!" Eddie scolded, he couldn't believe Wayne would speak so poorly of Y/N, he barely gave her a chance. In the same way, Dad barely gave Eddie the chance.
"Wayne, please. I know my dad is a boss man but I would never look down on you or Eddie. I'm so sorry for his behavior, but please I love Eddie. Don't do this." Y/N begged. She knew her dad was a loss cause, she needed Wayne to be on their side.
"It's Mr. Munson, Eddie we are leaving. Say goodbye and meet me in the car." Wayne spat, he turned around and walked out the door.
"Break up with the boy or Wayne is fired. You will not be talked about like that. He disrespected my daughter in my house!" Her dad threatened, his arms crossed as he looked down at the couple. He ignored the pain in his daughter's eyes but enjoyed the fear in Eddie's.
"Eds." Y/N whimpered, her eyes watery as the world crashed at their feet. She didn't want to lose him.
"Y/N, I gave an order. I want him out of my house and out of your life." Her dad said before he left the room.
"What do we do?" Eddie asked
"We have to break up." Y/N choked out, her eyes watered and her throat burned.
"Baby no! We'll make your dad change his mind! I'll make him, I promise!" Eddie panicked.
"I'm sorry. That job is all you guys have. I can't be the reason he gets fired, he'll hate me even more." Y/N couldn't live with that guilt. "I'm sorry." Y/N whimpered, sobs making its way out of her mouth. She covered her cries with her hands.
"He doesn't hate you! I'll make him change his mind and give you a chance!"
"Eddie, it's me or the job. Wayne would never accept us if it cost him his job, his income, and his source to support you. But soon I'll have money saved to move out, we will graduate and we can be together. Just wait for me?" She cried.
"Yes," Eddie said with no hesitation. He'd wait years for her.
"I love you," Eddie whispered, leaning down to softly kiss her goodbye. He felt his heart sink as he tasted her salty tears.
"I love you." She whispered. She watched as he walked out the door.
Eddie tried to hold back his sobs as he got in the car. He didn't look at Wayne the whole drive. The betrayal in Eddie's heart was the worst pain he'd ever felt. Out of everyone in the world, he thought Wayne would always have his back.
The car ride was silent, a few blocks away from home when Wayne finally spoke up.
"Look, I know you-" Wayne tried
"No! You don't know. I can't believe you would talk to her that way. You disrespected my girlfriend right to her face. She has done nothing to you. It's her fucking dad! Yeah, I get that. But you did not need to treat her like that." Eddie snapped.
"Eddie, you are too young to understand. But she will turn out just like him. She'll be selfish and think she's above you. You'll thank me in the end." Wayne said.
"You don't know her. You don't know anything about her." Eddie argued. "She's nothing like him. She is sweet, kind, and would do anything for the people she loves."
Wayne laughed and shook his head. "She has you fooled." The car came to a stop as they pulled up to their trailer.
"Make sure you send her a thank you card for saving your ass from being fired." Eddie snapped as he slammed the car door. He raced into the trailer and locked himself in his room.
~~~
Y/N knew she'd never forgive her dad for what he did. She'd never forgive him for making her break it off with Eddie. She'd never forgive him for not letting her be happy. Her mom tried to make everyone civil, but dinners were silent. Y/N refused to speak or look at her dad.
"How was school?" Her mom asked, slicing her steak.
"Fine," Y/N muttered. She picked at her plate, not much of an appetite. The breakup with Eddie was the most painful thing she's ever experienced. It's been days of silence. Days of longing look from across the classroom. Days of crying in her room when all she wanted to do was be in Eddie's arms.
"Did you talk to that boy?" Her dad asked, his eyes squinting at her over his newspaper.
"No."
"Good girl."
~~~
Wayne sighed as he walked into the trailer, complete silence. It's been days of Eddie locked up in his room. He only left for school, then right back into his bedroom.
"Did you eat?" Wayne asked as he knocked on the door.
"No," Eddie said through the door.
Wayne ordered pizza, sitting on the couch as his nephew stayed locked in his room. Wayne was conflicted, he knew Eddie liked Y/N and that the breakup was hard. But Wayne couldn't help but like the relief of his boss' attitude towards him. It was like banning Eddie from seeing his daughter was a win. He let Wayne go home at normal times and didn't give random tasks.
In the end, it worked out for Wayne, but was it worth it if his nephew had to suffer?
Eddie came out when the pizza arrived. He stacked up a paper plate and went to walk back into his room.
"Can we talk for a second?" Wayne asked, Eddie sighed but sat down.
"I know you're hurting. I know these past few weeks have been hard for you. I can see my actions have hurt you. It's hard for me to admit, but I was wrong. I spent years trying to get you to smile and enjoy life. Ever since I took you in, there was this light missing in your eyes. I took you to parks, bowling, and arcades, and yet you never smiled. You grew up and still, that light wasn't there. You never enjoyed living. Then you met her. And one day, I saw that light in your eyes. I see that smile when you talk about her. I'm sorry I took that away from you, Eds." Wayne said, choking slightly as he felt tears falling down his face. "I'm so sorry. I want that light back in your eyes. I want you to have something to live for."
Eddie choked back his cries as he watched Wayne break down.
"She makes me happy, Uncle Wayne," Eddie whispered, biting his lip harshly as he felt sobs making their way into his throat.
"You have my blessing. Get her back." Wayne said, he reached out and rubbed Eddie's hand softly.
"It means a lot. But she broke it off so you could keep your job. Her dad threatened to fire you. She'll never do that to you." Eddie said, "But thank you."
Wayne watched as he got up and went back into his room.
He knew what he had to do to make it up to his nephew.
~~~
"Sir, can I come in?" Wayne asked as he knocked on his boss's door.
"Yes." His boss sat at his big desk, his hands under his chin as he waited for Wayne to speak.
"I quit," Wayne said, folding his uniform and placing it on the desk.
"Excuse me?" His boss scoffed.
"Eddie or the job, right? Your daughter and I have something in common. We both love that boy and it's time he gets picked. I pick Eddie. I'm accepting your daughter, because of the way she brightens up my boy's world. If you can't see he does the same for her, then maybe you don't love her the way you should." Wayne said, not waiting for a response as he left the office.
~~~
Eddie was doing homework in the kitchen when Wayne walked in.
"It's like three? How did you get off that early?" Eddie chuckled.
"I quit."
"WHAT?" Eddie yelled, standing up from his chair.
"He can't fire me if I don't work for him," Wayne smirked.
"But Wayne! We need the money."
"I'll get a job somewhere else. You are more important than any job. I'm sorry I stood in the way of your relationship, but now there won't be any consequences."
"Thank you." Eddie smiled, tears in his eyes as he pulled Wayne into a tight hug. Wayne smiled as a few tears left his eyes. That smile was back.
And so was she
~~~
"CHEATER!" Y/N screamed, her accusing fingers pointed to Eddie as he tried to tuck cards under his plate.
"AM NOT!" he yelled back. His hand crumbled up another card he tried to hide. His girlfriend's eyes were watching his every move.
"WAYNE!" she yelled, the older man got off the couch and walked to the table. The board game is on the table, dice everywhere, and a mess of cards.
"Check his hand." She said a smile on her face. She knew Eddie was about to be caught.
"Wayne! Who are you gonna believe? Me or her?" Eddie gasped
"Your girlfriend." Wayne laughed, easily tackling Eddie to the floor as he tried to get the card out of his hand.
"GOT IT!" Wayne cheered, snatching the crumbled card. He held out his hand and yanked Eddie to his feet. Then placed the card in Y/N's hand.
"I knew it!" She said, slamming down the card she needed to win.
"Thank you, Uncle Wayne." She laughed as she high-fived him.
"He always cheats," Wayne whispered, leaning down to kiss the top of her head. "Now I'm off to bed. Try not to be too loud. Big day tomorrow!"
"Good luck at the job interview," Y/N said, Wayne thanked her as he shut his bedroom door.
He smiled as he crawled into bed, the sound of Eddie's laughter and Y/N's screams filled the trailer.
Now the sound of that was worth quitting a job for.
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AITA for not going to a restaurant my parents booked?
I (15M) live with my parents and Sister (13F) who has special needs and some allergies. Because of that, my parents only allow certain kinds of food in our home that are allergin free and autistic friendly. Sister doesn't like certain smells or textures, so they don't buy some foods. Everything done centered around her needs and wants.
When it was my 15th birthday, parents said I could pick restaurant I wanted to eat at. So I picked a Chinese Dim Sum place. But Sister doesn't like that kind of food cause she thinks the texture of some of the dim sum feels weird. And she does not like the fish dishes the way they are made at Chinese places. So parents asked me if I was sure and that they would give me more time to think about it. They returned 3 days later and asked again. I gave the same answer. So they asked "could you really enjoy your birthday knowing that Sister would not feel safe and be able to enjoy the food?" I said "yes. Because it is my birthday."
Mom and dad told me that I was being selfish and that they already made a reservation at Sister's favorite burger place. They already sent invitations to family telling them we would be celebrating there. So on the day of my birthday, I went to my friend's house earlier in the day and "forgot" about the restaurant reservation and ate dinner with friends instead. Mom and dad were angry because Sister had cried over it. They went to friend's house and dragged me to the restaurant but I did not eat anything.
When the cake came, (grandma bought a cake I wanted), Sister moved to blow out the candles because she was told she could. But I quickly pushed her away (not hard enough to hurt her) and blew out the candles before she could. Sister started bawling her eyes put and parents tried to comfort her. Grandma let me cut the cake, so I ate the first slice while Sister continued to cry. No one really said anything, but I could feel people staring at me.
When we got home, mom and dad yelled at me for first not showing up on time and second not letting Sister blow out the candles first. I argued that since it was my birthday, I should have gotten to choose the restaurant and blow out the candles for my cake. I got sent to my room. I checked messages I got from aunts and uncles and they were all calling me selfish and spoiled for the way I treated Sister at the party. Only grandma and grandpa were wishing me a happy birthday.
What is wrong with me wanting my birthday to be about me instead of my sister?
AITA?
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allthingseddie · 11 months
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I Wanna Be Yours - Part One
Summary: You are best friends with single dad Eddie Munson and you are helping him raise his daughter because you are head over heels for both of them.
Part Two Here Part Three Here
You had been best friends with Eddie Munson for years. You guys met when you were preteens living in the same trailer park. He was a couple of years older than you but he was always good company. You had been inseparable ever since and you even make the joke that he failed his senior year twice so that he could graduate with you. You understood each other like no one else could. You both had troubled upbringings and bonded over your similar home lives. Where he was raised by his uncle Wayne, you were raised by your grandma. You really felt like he was one of the only people that truly understood you, so it was no wonder that you were head over heels in love with him since you were 17.
A few months after your high school graduation, you decided you would finally tell Eddie about your feelings for him. You two were close enough that if he didn’t reciprocate those feelings, you were sure you could still be close friends, at least that’s what you were telling yourself as you walked across the trailer park to his trailer. You entered and headed to his bedroom where you knocked on the door.
“What?!,” Eddie asked suddenly.
“Hey Eds, what’s the matter?,” You asked. You knew him like the back of your hand and you knew that even though his tone came off as rude, he was just stressed.
“You know this would only happen to me. I finally graduate high school. Finally. I think, fuck it, if I can do that, I can make it out of this town. We can leave and enjoy life. Travel. But no, god has a fucked up plan for my life,” He says, taking a long drag of the cigarette between his lips.
“Okay, what’s going on?”
“Jules is fucking pregnant Y/N. I slept with her all of one time and I fucking got her pregnant. I used protection I don’t understand how this happened.”
You knew that you now had a blank expression across your face. Eddie sat down on his bed and dropped his face into his hands. You stared at him and you knew you were completely fucked because all you wanted to do was comfort the guy you were totally in love with who got another girl pregnant. You sat down beside him and affectionately rubbed his arm with your hand.
“What if I suck at being a dad Y/N? What if I fuck the kid up like my dad fucked me up?,” He asks looking over at you.
“Eds, you are going to be a great dad. And I’ll always be there for you no matter what. I will help you that best that I can. You are way more of a man than your dad ever could be. I believe in you,” You respond. Eddie hugs you and you know that he’s crying. He’s scared and all you can do is be there for him.
Over the next few years, you kept true to your word like you always did. You stuck beside Eddie’s side and watched him become a great father to a beautiful little girl. You helped him wherever you could. Especially since Jules decided that she didn’t want the responsibly of being a parent herself. Eddie essentially had full custody of Halle himself. You and Eddie had decided to get an apartment together to help each other with the cost of moving out. He didn’t think that it was fair to raise a child in Waynes house, taking up yet more of his limited space, and you desperately wanted to be out of your grandmas house and have some independence. (Not to mention you were now in love with Eddie’s daughter as well as still being in love with him).
The three of you lived together in a 2 bedroom apartment. Eddie worked 2nd shift at the plant his uncle worked at making decent money, but a good chunk of it went to bills and Halle. You worked 1st shift as a teller at the local bank in Hawkins. Your schedules made it easier to take care of Halle together. When you got off of work, you would pick Halle up from the babysitters and take her home and feed her dinner and get her ready for the night. She would spend the morning with Eddie an he would drop her off at the babysitters on the way to work. To any outsider, it would look as if you were actually Halle’s mother and that you lived a simple domestic life, and you sometimes wished that was the truth.
Halle was 4 years old and she was a carbon copy of your best friend. He made you her godmother when she was born. You absolutely adored the little girl. She was funny and a total sweetheart. She could pull your heartstrings like no other person could, except for her dad. There were some complications to the arrangement you had with Eddie, however, which brought you to tonight. The last thing Eddie had on his mind since Halle was born was dating, so you decided to put yourself out there. You were dating Landon for a little over a month now and he was a nice enough guy. You had some similar interests and he was attractive. He had brought up coming over to your apartment and you quickly shot down the idea, which he didn’t question the first couple of times, but after a month of dating, he had a feeling you were hiding something from him.
You had finally told him about your living situation and how you were living with your male best friend and helping him raise his daughter and he didn’t see it as normal as you did. You always had this kind of luck when it came to dating and explaining your living arrangements to them. None of them could believe that you weren’t sleeping with Eddie.
“Theres just no way you could help raise someone’s daughter AND live with them with nothing in return. You have to be fucking him. ,” Landon had put it so plainly. You left his apartment right then and there and didn’t look back. You were now back at your apartment on the couch, drinking wine and watching shitty tv to try to distract yourself from your dwelling. You were dwelling on the fact that even though you did like Landon, part of the reason you got so upset is because you desperately wanted what he described. You hated that you couldn’t seem to move on from Eddie. You hated that you fell more in love with him every time you saw him with his daughter. You hated that he had you in a chokehold you couldn’t break free from, yet at the same time, you also didn’t want to break free from it. It was a vicious cycle you were going through lately. You would meet a guy, go on a few dates, and then once you break it off with them, you would realize that you never would have committed to them anyways and pity yourself.
Eddie was currently at his weekly dinner at Waynes house with Halle which you often also went to, but opted out of tonight since you had a date. You had planned out being out later than you were, so when Eddie came back at 8:30 carrying a sleeping Halle in his arms and saw you sitting on the couch alone drinking wine, he was surprised to say the least.
“Hey, what are you doing back already? I thought you were out with Lane tonight?,” Eddie asked quietly, laying Halle down on the loveseat carefully and giving you a puzzled look. Part of you thinks he always said your dates names wrong on purpose just to get under your skin.
“Landon. And nah that’s over. He was a loser,” You replied, taking another drink of wine and turning your attention back to the tv.
“I thought you really liked this one?,” Eddie asked sitting down beside you.
“Yeah, well, I haven’t even known him for that long. He let his true colors show tonight and I wasn’t impressed, so its over. I think I’m just gonna stop dating for a while.”
“Dating is for losers. Be single and boring with me,” Eddie replied and chuckled lightly.
“Sounds good to me,” You responded, smiling slightly at your best friend. Halle then stirred in her sleep and looked over at you.
“Y/N?,” She asked quietly, reaching out towards you. You place your glass on the table and go over to the loveseat where she was laying and pick her up and place her in your lap.
“Hey princess, I missed you,” You say cuddling the small girl.
“Missed you, too. Why didn’t you go to grandpas with us?,” She asks, rubbing the sleep out of her big brown eyes.
“Well, I promised to eat dinner with someone else, but can I tell you a secret?,” You ask, lowering your voice.
“Yeah,” She said with a smile.
“I would have much rather spent my night with you pretty girl,” You tell her, tickling her neck and she lets out a giggle in return. You lay your head back on the loveseat and cuddle with Halle until she falls back asleep. You are stroking her back when you start to drift off yourself. You are woken up when you feel Eddie gently picking her up off of you to take her to bed.
“You should go lay down in bed before you hurt your neck on the loveseat,” Eddie says to you, smiling down at you.
“Okay Eds,” You say. You stand up and follow him down the hallway and go into your own bedroom ,” Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” He says.
While asleep, you dream of the night Eddie told you he got Jules pregnant, instead you get to tell him that you love him first. He tells you he’s in love with you also and he asks you to raise his daughter with him and be her mom. You are enjoying the dream when you are woken up in the morning. You are woken up by movement on your bed. You open your eyes slowly and see Halle laying on her stomach beside you, looking down at you as you sleep.
“Good morning babygirl. What are you doing up?,” You ask looking at her.
“Daddy’s asleep and I want pancakes,” She responds.
“Mmmm, pancakes do sound pretty good,” You say. You pull her small body into yours and cuddle her and she giggles ,”Just five more minutes.”
“But I’m hungry nowwwww,” she slightly whines.
“Fine, but only for my favorite girl,” You tell her and kiss her forehead before sitting up. She hops off of your bed and runs to the kitchen. You slowly get out of bed and make your way to the kitchen after her. You get out a pan and whip up some boxed pancake batter. You make enough pancakes and bacon for the three of you. You and Halle eat breakfast together and Eddie still hasn’t gotten out of bed. You were sure the smell of bacon would wake him up. Once you’re done eating, you look at Halle.
“Your dad sure is being lazy today,” You joke with her.
“We have to wake him up,” She states matter-o-factly.
“Do you want to play a joke on him with me?,” You ask smirking at the girl and she immediately giggles and says yes. You grab a now cool pancake and head to Eddie’s room with Halle following right behind you. She slowly opens the bedroom door and you see Eddie peacefully sleeping , slightly drooling onto his pillow. You think he looks beautiful like this and you almost feel bad that you’re about to ruin his peaceful slumber. You walk carefully through the bedroom and toss the pancake so it lands flatly across his face and startles him awake. Halle laughs loudly.
“Heyyy, what was that forrr?,” He asks whining.
“Get up lazy,” You say to him with a smirk on your face.
“Yeah get up lazy,” Halle mimics you.
“Is this a pancake?,” Eddie asks, holding it out in front of his half closed eyes and examining it.
“Yes it is. At your daughters request,” You respond.
“Aww you had pancakes without me?,” He says.
“We made some for you, too lazy,” You say.
“Yeah lazy,” Halle says again.
“Hey, that’s daddy to you little missy,” He says grabbing Halle and pulling her into him and tickling her. She shrieks out a laugh. Eddie lets up on her and takes a bite of the pancake that you threw at his face.
“Did you make bacon?,” Eddie asks looking at you hopefully.
“Duh. Who would I be if I made pancakes without bacon?,” You respond and smile back at him.
“Definitely not my favorite adult anymore,” He teases and stands up. The three of you make your way out of his bedroom and back into the kitchen. You pour Eddie a cup of coffee and refresh your own while he heats up his pancakes and bacon and then sits down to eat. You hand him his cup and sit down at the table with him.
“What should we do today Halle?,” You ask her.
“Play dress up and fashion show,” Halle says and steals a piece of her dads bacon. That meant that she wanted you to do her makeup and put on her princess dresses so she could model in her oversized childrens high heels for you and Eddie and you couldn’t be happier to do that.
“Sounds like a plan, stan,” You say.
“Who’s Stan?,” Halle asked, confused.
“I’m sorry, is that not your name?,” You tease the girl. She laughs at you.
“No, my name is Halle,” She responds laughing.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I spent all this time thinking your name was Stan,” You smile widely at the girl and she returns the smile.
“Do you want to play dress up and fashion show with us daddy?,” Halle asks Eddie.
“Ill be a judge at the fashion show, I’m not letting you two trick me into wearing makeup again,” Eddie says taking a drink of his coffee and narrowing his eyes at you. You chuckle at him, remembering when you conned him into letting you do his makeup and hair and forcing him to walk down the ‘runway’ as you and Halle rated his walk.
“Robin is coming over later to hang out for a little bit,” You say to the two of them. You had been close with Robin for a while as you two were in marching band together. She was your closest friend other than Eddie.
“Will Robin play dress up and fashion show with us?,” Halle asks.
“I’m sure she will for a little bit,” You respond and she smiles widely. You spend the morning catching up on some of your laundry for work and doing some household chores. Then it was time for the infamous dress up and fashion show. You used your bedroom as the dressing room. You carefully put some light makeup on Halle and helped her braid her curly hair. She put on a pink princess dress and some plastic childrens high heels and walked out of your bedroom and down the runway (hallway) out to the living room to model for her dad.
“9.8 out of 10,” Eddie says with a smile on his face. He used to give her a 10/10 every time, but she got bored with the same answer every time so now he would switch it up to keep her happy. Halle came back to your room and this time changed into a green princess dress and the same high heels. She walked back out to the living room to get Eddie’s rating for this outfit.
“11 out of 10,” Eddie says.
“Daddy, 11 is more than 10,” Halle says with a frown, crossing her arms across her chest.
“Well you are smarter than me, so I’ll take your word for it. 9.98 out of 10,” Eddie’s responds. There’s a knock at the door and Halle goes over to answer it and finds Robin.
“Ohh wow, that a 10 out of 10 look right there,” Robin says entering the apartment and Halle hugs her legs.
“Thank you,” Halle says with a bright smile.
“How come she can give you a 10 out of 10 but I can’t?,” Eddie asks.
“Cause daddy, you said it every time,” Halle says. Eddie holds his hands up defensively. Robin makes her way to your bedroom and sits down on the end of your bed.
“Hey what have you been up to?,” Robin asks taking off her jacket. Halle runs back into the room this time with an old Halloween costume.
“I want this dress now,” She says holding it out to you. You help her put on the witches dress with the matching hat and she makes her way back out to the hallway.
“Not much. I ended things with Landon last night,” You reply.
“What was wrong with him?,” Robin asks curiously.
“He got mad when I told him about my living situation. Said there was no way I could live with a man without having sex with him,” you respond.
“Oh you most definitely can. I live with Steve and I don’t have sex with him,” Robin says.
“Robs, you’re not attracted to men, that doesn’t really count,” You respond.
“Oh so you’re admitting you want to have sex with Eddie then?,” Robin asks with a smirk. A blush washes over your face and you roll your eyes.
“C’mon Y/N, I know you’re in love with him,” Robin states.
“You’re in love? Like in a fairytale?,” Halle asks coming back into the room and you shoot daggers at Robin.
“Robin doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” You say helping Halle change into her next outfit. Eddie walks into your room.
“Daddy! Y/N is in love like in a fairytale!,” Halle says excitedly.
“Oh is she now? You have a change of heart about Brandon?,” Eddie asks.
“Landon. And no. Robin is just assuming things,” You respond.
“Who’s Brandon?,” Halle asks.
“No one important Hals,” You say to her.
“So who’s the lucky guy then?,” Eddie asks teasing you.
“My lord and savior Jesus Christ,” You deadpan and Eddie chuckles.
“I’m actually gonna take our single friend out tonight to meet the love of her life,” Robin says wrapping an arm around your shoulder and ruffling your hair.
“Robs, its Sunday. Where am I going to meet the love of my life?,” You look at her.
“I don’t know, church?,” She shrugs her shoulders and Eddie laughs again.
“Okay well you kids have fun,” Eddie says chuckling, grabbing Halles hand and leading her out of the room.
“I’m only 2 years younger than you!,” You shout after him and he laughs again. You fall back onto your bed and sigh dramatically.
“C’mon Y/N, come out with me, it’ll be fun. We can get a drink or two and mingle. I’ll be your wingwoman,” Robin says.
“I’m swearing off dating for a while,” you respond with your eyes closed.
“Why, because you don’t have the balls to tell the man you want to date your feelings for him?,” Robin asks. You stand up from your bed and change into an outfit to go out with Robin in.
“You know what, I’ll go out with you just so you stop accusing me of being in love with him,” you say.
“Hah! I got my way,” Robin responds with a shit eating grin on her face. You finish getting ready and both leave the apartment. You decide to go to a local bar. When you get there, you order a mojito and Robin orders a double-shot of jack and coke. You both sit at the bar for a while and make small talk.
“Hey, can I buy you a drink?,” A guy that appears to be in his mid to late twenties with blonde hair and brown eyes comes up to you and asks.
“No thank you, I have my one for the night. Thank you though!,” you respond and turn back to Robin.
“Y/N what the hell! I didn’t even have to be your wingwoman he just came up to you and you totally shut him down,” Robin exclaims.
“I could tell I wasn’t interested,” You respond.
“Why cuz he’s not Eddie?,” Robin asks.
“Yeah pretty fucking much!,” You say and lay your head on your arm ,” I am so pathetic. I’ve been in love with that man since I was 17 and now I’m 23. That’s 6 years Robin. Six fucking years and he has no interest in dating. What am I doing?,” You asking, taking a swig of your drink and looking at her.
“I finally got you to admit it!,” Robin says excitedly.
“Yeah well you bring it up every time were together so you wore me down. Happy?,” You ask.
“Well now we gotta figure out how to get you two together,” Robin replies.
“Robin, I’ve known him for forever. Don’t you think if he was attracted to me at all I would have any sort of indication?,” You respond rhetorically.
“No because love makes you blind. What about the fact that he never says the right names for the guys you date?,” Robin says.
“What about it? He has smoked a lot of weed in his life, it can fuck with your memory,” You reply.
“He does it on purpose because he doesn’t like any guy you date,” Robin says.
“He’s never met the guys I date,” You respond.
“And why do you think that is? Because you don’t care about the guys you date as much as you do Eddie. You wont even let them come to your apartment because you don’t want to have a serious relationship because you’re in love with him. And I think he has feelings for you, too,” Robins says.
“And what makes you ‘think’ that?,” You ask and roll your eyes.
“The way he looks at you. Especially the way he looks at you when you’re with Halle,” Robin says.
“Robs that not proof. Unless Eddie has come up to you and said ‘Robin, I have feelings for Y/N’, you have no solid proof for me to go on to ruin my friendship with him,” You respond.
“I’ll get it out of him just like I did you. I’ll have Steve help me wear him down,” Robin responds.
“Oh yeah that’s real comforting, wearing someone down to admit feelings,” You respond.
“Well, it worked with you did it not?,” Robin says.
“Fine, you can try all you want, but I guarantee he does not feel the same way,” You respond finishing your drink.
“Okay ms grumpy pants,” Robin says. You leave the bar and head home to finish your laundry and do the rest of your tasks to get ready for the workweek. You drift off to sleep daydreaming about Eddie confessing his feelings for you and and kissing his soft lips with yours finally.
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lixieisgod · 1 year
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𝐺𝑌𝐴𝐿 𝑌𝑂𝑈 𝐴 𝑊𝐴𝐿𝐾𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝑻𝑹𝑶𝑷𝑯𝒀 # !
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𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒𝑠⤷ there is like zero Caribbean representation in fics so you know ya girl has try to fix that shit. Caribbean girls on top🕺🏽 so it’s not right that we ain’t got shit. please reblog and lmk if y’all like this.
𝑠𝑦𝑛𝑜𝑝𝑠𝑖𝑠⤷ 𝐸𝑟𝑒𝑛 𝑌𝑒𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑎 𝐶𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑏𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑛 𝑔𝑖𝑟𝑙𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑. 𝐸𝑟𝑒𝑛 𝑌𝑒𝑎𝑔𝑒𝑟 𝑥 𝐶𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑏𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑛! 𝑅𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟
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since the night you and eren met at a party you’ve basically been inseparable since. you two have been together for a while now and it’s safe to say you guys are the IT couple.
lmfaoo at first when your friends would catch you simping they’d be like “what happens to gazah forever” and start laughing. But they mean well it’s all jokes they like seeing you and eren so happy with each other.
a few people thought it wouldn’t last that long, thinking he wouldn’t be able to handle you. BUT BABYY were there wrong ! you two have a good balance in your relationship, your energies align so well.
there’s no getting between you two. “my man tie me, I’m on him badd”
you were a little nervous at fist to let him meet your family, you know they can be a little judgmental sometimes but you weren’t too worried. Everything went really good when he met the fam. Your male relatives were a bit over protective but you can’t blame them too much, you’ll always be their baby.
At the family events he eats his weight in food lmfaoo. He’s a big fan of rotis, jerk chicken with white rice, green bananas and salt fish, as well as chutney. It melted your heart to see him enjoying traditional foods.
this man lives to see you dance, from the first grind he got at that party, he’s been hooked since. He’s actually got really good rhythm. So he’s great at any party, whether it’s holding onto your waist slow dancing with you singing the lyrics “ gyal, mi wan’ if hold yuh put me arms right around yuh” in his ear.
this one time you brought him to a family gathering and he danced western with the older ladies of the family, your grandma love him sm, he even calls her ma or mum.
this man can really turn tf up. like REALLY turn TF up. for example when you two are at a Bacchanal all his composure flies out the widow. But he never lets other girls try to dance with him and you do the same when it comes to other men.
lemme tell youuu, there’s a video of you two dirty dancing to vybez kartel at the fette. that shit was wildd like giving him mad fast wine and him positioning you with his hands on your lower back watching your movements
He loves when you make him breakfast, his favorite thing that you make him is fried bakes and cocoa tea. It’s like his comfort food at this point.
he loves hearing all the folklore stories, they’re so fascinating to him. he was low-key kinda scared when you told him you’d send a dupply after him as a joke.
He likes trying Caribbean snacks, he likes half frozen chubby and icelollies.
A DOMINOS FIEND !! your uncles and him were playing together and that shit was heateddd. He smacks the dominos hard asll lmfao. Your uncles lowkey started respecting him more after he won a few games.
He lovesss playing football in the rain with your cousins. your grandma puts oil in the middle of the head to make sure he doesn’t get sick.
LATE NIGHT DRIVES ARE A VIBEE. The two of you have this long ass playlist that you guys bump while driving in the middle of the night with the roof down.
Play from 0:45 before reading next slide
it’s the middle of the night and the two of you are speeding through the mostly empty streets with cold Heineken’s screaming the lyrics to the songs in you guy’s playlists. “ LONGING FOR MY BABY TO LOVE ME MOREE, WHAT AM I LONGING FOR? BABYLON RELEASE THE CURE” !
he sings you all of the old school love songs
he loves and appreciates you so freaking much, you’re the best thing in his life, and he lets everyone know it. you two are such a good couple.
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© 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝗼 𝐥𝐢𝐱𝐢𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐠𝗼𝐝. 𝐂𝗼𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝗼𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐧𝗼𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝗼𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝗼𝐧 𝗼𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝗼𝐫𝗺𝐬.
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libraford · 3 months
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I'm a little frustrated making this scrapbook because I had the idea to put some quotes from grandma's memoirs into it both to give it a little more color and to create a more intentional sense of narrative because grandma didn't always keep things that were historically significant- she kept movie tickets and play programs. And I wanted to combine the 'life at home' visual story with the photos of ww2 and kind of play with the idea of two worlds waiting to come back together again. Trust me, I'm sobbing a little working on this because even though grandma wasn't a great writer you knew she meant the things she wrote.
But what's making it frustrating is that she didn't intend to publish this. It was intended to be a story that she wrote for her sons so that they would know where they came from.
My uncle found it and wrote a real presumptuous foreword about it, about how it was an important read for future generations, about how different the world was in the 1940s, about the lesson we can all learn from grandma and truly its a 'must read.'
And then his son published it for profit literally 3 months after she died.
I love my grandma very much, but it is not a 'must read.' There are plenty of accounts of what it was like to live in America during WW2 and she spends a lot of time talking about how she grew up poor and didn't have this, that, or the other thing. She was a good writer, but she had a tendency to ramble, write things out of order. She was first and foremost a poet and when it came to writing a story she often forgot where she left off, and she did not have an editor.
I want to take my uncle by the shoulders and tell him:
"Matthew. Matthew. Look at me. Some things are not for sale. Take this message and pass it on to your son. Tell him that if I die first and he tries to pull this on me it means he's next."
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kiragecko · 5 months
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A few weeks ago, I flew to visit my grandma with my little brother and sister. My little brother had never been on a plane, and my sister only has once, almost a decade ago. It was an experience.
All three of us are in our 30s and neurodivergent¹. My little brother has Down’s Syndrome² and is probably autistic. He communicates mostly through echolalia³.
I suspected there might be challenges, so I tried to contact the airline before purchasing tickets. This did NOT work. The Westjet agents weren’t allowed to discuss anything with me until I had booked a flight. I was purchasing nonrefundable tickets. The website was quite clear that they could kick us from the plane if they couldn’t support our needs. And they wouldn’t tell me if they could support our needs!
I ended up calling around 8 times. Finally, after purchasing tickets and jumping through all the hoops, someone was willing to talk. They mostly said that everything was up to the people letting us on to the flight, but at least they talked to me!
My main concern was the pacing. My brother’s favourite activity is pacing in circles and repeating movie/song quotes to himself. Once we got on the plane things would be fine (we had movies for him to watch), but I was concerned that other passengers waiting to board would find this stressful. Like - that isn’t our problem, it’s their’s - but flying is hard! If there was a way for us to not add more stress, I wanted to find it!
The airline was zero help, so we did our best to prepare on our own. My uncle died the day before the trip, and that increased stress levels. My autistic sister was dealing with that, a sense of responsibility for my brother, and also anxiety about a mostly-new experience (flying).
-
And then the plane gets delayed.
By an hour, at first.
The airline said we should be there TWO HOURS early for domestic flights. Which is ridiculous. TWO HOURS??? Especially since everything before security can now be done online? But we obediently turn up two hours before the new flight time, and are immediately directed to the priority security line. Which is good. Even the short line is boring for my brother, and I can’t let him pace in the few open spaces. But ten minutes later we’re at our gate, ready to leave.
Now we just have to wait for an hour and fifty minutes!
We had hoped my brother would want to watch his first movie. But he's riled up from lines and crowds and gets right to pacing. A few people have to slow down as they pass, but he’s not hurting anyone, so I let him be.
I’m more worried about my sister, now. She lives with the aunt that found my uncle. She hasn’t slept in days, worrying about the trip. She isn’t handling the noise and crowds. So I keep an eye on my brother (at least 50% to make sure he doesn’t take some of the chocolate he keeps eyeing when he passes the gift shop), occasionally ask if he wants to watch a movie, and watch my sister slowly descend into a panic attack. Not fun. Eventually I send her to the bathroom, hoping that it will be quieter and she can calm down.
BUT! Events have happened during this time! The plane has been delayed another 15 minutes! It is explained that they have had to replace the plane with one they haven’t yet finished retrofitting. This new plane doesn’t have as much overhead baggage space. They need at least 15 pieces of carry-on luggage to be checked. If the passangers aren’t willing to do this, there will be large delays once loading starts, as people are FORCED to check their luggage. Also, there’s no first class on the new plane. Or charging ports. Or meals. Or in-flight entertainment. First class passengers can request some money back. And if anyone misses their connecting flight due to the delays, tickets to their new flights will be provided upon landing.
People start to get tired and stressed. The intercom keeps threatening them. Now it’s 30 bags that need to be checked. Delays will be even longer if this doesn’t happen!
At this point, security shows up. They ask if anyone will take responsibility for the pacing guy. I do. They show visible discomfort with the situation, and his disability. Can I make him stop pacing? I can try, but probably not. Please do that, it is bothering the other passengers. Oh? Really?? Who could have guessed that?!
My brother is NOT willing to sit down. We stand in the concourse, while I talk to him about sitting down and he makes annoyed sounds at me. I’m not about to force him. I don’t want us to get kicked out of the airport, but can they do that for something as minor as acting weird in public? Mostly, I’m worried about all our electronics, which I abandoned in the open when security showed up. I’m not sure if security will try something with my brother if I leave him to pace while I clean things up.
And now, the hero shows up. The head of security has been called, and he comes over and asks me if there’s anything my brother needs. No, there isn’t, he’s quite happy to pace. It’s everyone else that is being bothered.
“I don’t care about them. He has just as much right to this space as they do. I just want to make sure you guys have everything you need. Would he like a sensory package?”
He wouldn’t like a sensory package, but this guy’s offer of the chapel as a quiet space IS interesting. Mostly because my sister is off in sensory shut-down somewhere, and needs a quiet space. But also because I could relax a little nobody would be watching us, and I could relax if my brother had an enclosed room to pace in. (No chocolates!)
As I’m agreeing to this, my sister returns. Head of Security respectfully tries to explain the situation to her. I look at her hunched body language and tell him to just talk to me. Then I send her to pack up our stuff. He wants to Include Her. She really, really does not want to be included.
He also wants to Include my brother. It’s kind of cute. He’s overflowing with good intentions, but obviously hasn’t had a lot of chance to put them into practice yet. He’s incredibly respectful, but in ways that would work a bit better for people who are more interested in their own decision making than my brother. I’m charmed.
Another person shows up. She is introduced as the Accessibility Specialist, and we are asked if we’re okay with her support. Oh yes, I am very okay with this. After she gets caught up - and she reiterates that everyone else can suck it, my brother is allowed to inhabit this space how he wishes - we get ready to head for the chapel. But the plane is about to land. There probably isn’t enough time to transition there and then back. So instead, we all wait around and listen to our two heroes conspire.
Accessibility Specialist has had the job for a month. Or, at least, she's been PAID to do this job for a month. She's been doing it unofficially much longer. She has IDEAS. So that’s where all the unpolished We Respect Everyone energy is coming from. Head of Security is one of her co-conspirators!
In-between plotting, Accessibility Specialist asks me questions. She hears about the amount of phonecalls, and the unsatisfactory answers. The complete lack of support. The fact that I had told the airline that this exact situation was likely to happen, and then got security called on us anyways. She tells me that this information is very helpful. Her plans will benefit from specific examples.
She tells me how unsatisfactory it is to have to send people to the chapel. They're pushing for a quiet room. I agree that this would have been helpful. My brother would probably have been calmer in a quiet space, which would have helped us AND reduced the stress for others. (Also, both me and my sister would have benefited from the quiet. But I didn’t say that.)
In all the commotion, I’ve forgotten to talk to the boarding people about priority boarding. But Accessibility Specialist is on the ball! We stand off to the side, behind a rope, while the plane disembarks. (My brother starts off pacing RIGHT in the way of the disembarkment, so sneaking into the roped off area is a good idea.) We’re going to be the very first ones to board, even before the people in wheelchairs. I pray that my brother is willing to walk onto the plane – he hasn’t been willing to follow me since we got out of security.
The boarding people are on their best behaviour. They make a special trip over to us to scan our tickets. They send someone down the ramp to check on the plane’s status. We are now VIPs. And we seem to have made the Accessibility Specialist’s day. She is so SMUG as she whispers with the Head of Security!
They ask if we’re okay with them accompanying us to the plane. Sure! I’m having a great time watching their excitement. It’s changed a very difficult experience into a pleasurable one. (For me. They are thankfully respecting my sister’s desire to be ignored. She is still not having fun. And my brother is pretty done with this experience. He’s found some quotes about ‘going home’ and ‘not doing this’ to share with me.)
Finally, we get the nod. My brother calmly follows us down the ramp. We get to the plane and are asked to pause for a moment while they finish moving some storage carts around. Seems reasonable to me, but Accessibility Specialist darts forward and takes photos, documenting SOMETHING. And then we get on the plane.
-
The plane itself would have been great. My brother happily took a seat. Enjoyed looking out the windows. And was excited to watch Shrek. My sister relaxed. And I LOVE flying. But, sadly, electronics must be stowed during liftoff and landing. My brother did NOT take these unreasonable demands from me well. He eventually forgave me for the take-off misdemeanor, especially after I put on my own headphones and quoted the movie with him. But my sins at landing were too much. For half an hour after he left the airport, he kept repeating, “NO more flying!” and “Not like this!” Any comments about flying for the next day got his hackles up.
So, I won’t do that to him again. But it was a very interesting experience for me! I am glad I got to have it.
And if anyone has flown through Winnipeg’s Richardson International Airport⁴ in the last while, and wants to tell them about any good or bad accessibility experiences, I think there’s someone there that would appreciate it. I want to see what she can accomplish.
-
PS. She’s also started a program where you can practice getting ready to board a plane! You sign up and they take you through the whole experience, from signing in to walking the boarding ramp. (Or, possibily, just whichever portion is concerning you.) I wish I had thought to contact the airport itself, rather than just contacting the airline and looking at the government’s resources. Good things are happening there.
-
¹ neurodivergent – brain works in a non-typical way
² Down’s Syndrome – an intellectual disability
³ echolalia – communication by repeating/echoing things heard, either right after hearing them, or a long time later
⁴ Winnipeg is in Manitoba, Canada
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mochinek0 · 8 months
Text
I'm a Princess
Chloe sipped her champagne as she looked around the Waynes' Gala. She spotted many people that were clients of her mother and some that promoted Gabriel. She noticed a few other designers, but the rest of the people…..well, they at least dressed the part. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a girl who she could have sworn was Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The girl had darker skin and green eyes, but her face, her eye shape!
Chloe sauntered over and shoved the champagne flute in front of her face.
"Go on." she demanded, "Get me another drink."
The girl looked her up and down.
"You still wear Gabriel?" she questioned, "Ew."
Chloe gasped, "He is an amazing designer!"
"He's an asshole." the girl retorted.
"You better shut your mouth, you Twerp!" Chloe bristled.
"Or what?" the girl commented, "You're gonna tell my mommy about your horrible fashion choices?"
"How dare you!" the Bourgeois heiress cried.
"No. How dare you show up to the Wayne Gala in something that is four seasons old!" the girl claimed.
"I am a Princess and-" Chloe began.
"No." the girl interrupted, "You are the daughter of a hotel owner, who didn't even wear clothes designed by her mother. You decided to wear trash."
Chloe was fuming. She had never been spoken to this way and the face of the girl wasn't helping.
'Her face is irritating! She looks just like Baker Girl when she started pushing back!'
"I am a princess and-" Chloe spoke again.
"I'm a princess." the girl declared, "Technically, after Great-Grandfather and Grandma passed way, Daddy became King. I'm a princess; you're playing dress up."
Chloe scowled, "You little-"
"Princess Amaya Wayne, lovely to see you again." a voice called out.
"King Ali of Achu." Amaya curtsied, focusing her attention on him.
Chloe closed her mouth and focused on the interaction in front of her.
'The Waynes have royalty in their blood and this….brat is actually a princess?'
"I'm very sorry, Ms. Bourgeois, but I must get going. My family will be summoning me soon." Amaya smiled, "King Ali, why don't you accompany me? I'm sure Father would love to discuss the next fundraiser for the children's hospital."
"Of course." the king answered.
The hotel owner fumed as they walked away. She lost sight of them in the crowd; Ali had never forgiven her for that fish-smell fiasco when they were younger. Chloe had to see for herself if the girl who humilated her was actually a Wayne. She followed them from a distance and tried to blend in with other girls nearby. She was too focused on Amaya to notice the judged looks thrown her way, as she tried to incorporate herself into their circle talks.
Sure enough, King Ali walked Amaya up to Bruce Wayne and someone else. Chloe couldn't make out who the guy was, but she heard the King of Achu refer to him as Damian. Amaya hugged Bruce and call him 'Grandfather', before he was asked to answer some questions for the Daily Planet.
'She's actually a Wayne!'
Bruce excused himself and the hotel owner was able to get a clearer view of the guy. He looked exactly like Bruce, but his complexion was similar to the kings' and he had green eyes.
"Why don't we continue this conversation tomorrow, Your Highness?" Damian spoke, "There are some things I want to go over without prying eyes or ears."
The King nodded and walked off.
"Have you seen your mother, Amaya?" Damian questioned.
"I believe she is with Uncle and people watching, as usual." she smiled, "She does love to look at everyone's outfits."
Out of the corner of her eye, Chloe spotted a familiar head of blonde hair. As Adrien walked out of the crown, Chloe scowled as she noticed his companion: Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Chloe dropped her glass as Marinette Dupain-Cheng walked over and kissed Damian Wayne.
"Mother." Amaya smiled, before hugging Marinette.
'Baker Girl; she married into the Wayne family! How did she manage to weasel her was into a family with royal blood?'
Chloe stomped and politely shoved her way through the crowd towards the stage. She couldn't believe that she saw that brat was hugging her Adrikins, after she disgraced the Gabriel name!
"You look lovely as always, Amaya." Adrien complimented, "You definetly get your beauty from your mother."
Amaya smiled, "Thank you, Uncle Adrien."
"Don't act high and mighty!" Chloe demanded, "You were just trash talking his father a few minutes ago!"
"Chloe." Marinette spoke.
"Baker Girl." the hotel owner sneered back.
Adrien and Damian were quick to push the girls behind them.
"So what?" Adrien asked, "Who cares if my niece talks shit about Gabriel?"
Chloe looked at him in shock, "But you-"
"Left his place and company when I was eighteen and I never looked back." Adrien declared, "I hated being a model and everything that came with it. The rules, the photoshoots, the diet, the loneliness, that stupid schedule pack dictating when I woke up, went to bed! I couldn't even hang out with my frineds!"
"But we're suppose to run an empire together!" Chloe shouted back.
"Is this some bullshit my father told you?" the former model questioned, "The last time I saw him was twelve years ago and the last time I spoke to him on the phone, was eight. I don't know what he told you, but I never wanted to own Gabriel. I can't draw to save my life; I never want to model again. I don't know what you would do, but it's certainly not draw."
"I can draw!" the hotel owner shouted.
Adrien smiled, "Really? Anytime there was a competition, you tried to steal Marinette's sketches and frame her. You have never put in any effort to practice drawing. I never even saw you take fashion classes. You just decided since your mommy was a fashion designer, you would be too. Audrey probably des more in a day, then you do in a week!"
Chloe could feel the promises she was fed start to crumble. Gabriel had told her that once Adrien was done with his vacation, they would run the company. Adrien was telling her that was never going to happen. She had been waiting for the da when she didn't need to watch over the hotle anymore. It was annoying having to serve others and make sure their needs were met. What about her needs? She wanted a trip to Cancun! She wanted to sail the Caribbean! She wanted to sleep past six am!
She snarled, "What about Baker Girl, huh? You seriously expect-"
Damian was quick to get in her face, "Call my wife that again and you'll be thrown out on the street."
"She is-" Chloe faltered
"My wife is a fashion designer." Damian stated proudly, "Number one in the country and number three internationally."
"Hah!" Chloe smiled, thinking she had caught them in a lie, "Zahr is-"
"My wife." Damian replied, wrapping his arm around Marinette's waist, "She makes all designs and has total control of her own design company. It's not even associated with Wayne Enterprise."
Amaya laughed "She's just sore that her gown is horrible."
"Amaya!" scolded Marinette.
"It's true." Amaya declared, "She tries to act big, but that spray painted gold just screams 'Look At Me; I Deserve Attention'!"
Adrien began to laugh since Chloe had been wearing the same color scheme since they were toddlers. Her attitude certainly hadn't changed. Damian just smirked at his daughter's decleration.
"And what is with that horrible blue eyeshadow?" the Wayne heiress continued, "No one wears eyeshadow that blue; it's outdated. It doesn't even match your dress or skin tone. If anything it makes you look a bloated fish. Why on Earth would you wear a nude lip shade of color? Even in the 50's, when they did use that shade, at least they had red lips."
Chloe's jaw dropped. Never had she imagined a child would tell her off for how she dressed. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Marinette biting her lip and could see Adrien laughing himself to tears.
"Yep." Adrien cried, "Tha-That's definetly your kid, Damian."
Mari sighed, "Is Yami and Malik gonna be the same way?"
"You do love honesty, Habibiti." Damian pointed out.
His wife groaned, "I'm gonna get so many phone calls when the twins go to school."
Chloe scowled and began to stomp away. She couldn't believe that someone who was related to bakers talked to her like that. The trash that came out of that girl's mouth left her fuming!
"Good." Amaya called out, enough for Chloe to hear, "Grandma is leaving. My eyes were starting to hurt, just from looking at her. Thankfully, the galas are at night. If we had it during the day, we'd have a disco ball on the floor with all that metallic strips sewn in."
Chloe could hear the baker's daughter snort, before laughing along side her Adrien.
"Amaya, you know how much your grandfather cares about appearances at these." Damian stated, causing his daughter to sigh, "Grounded for a week."
"Yes, Baba." Amaya spoke, "I only did it to get back at her for being a bully to Maman, when she was my age."
Mari kissed her daughter's head, "As long as you're not like this at school."
"Never, Maman." their daughter answered.
"Come along, Amiriti (Princess)." Damian spoke, "Let's go find your grandfather."
Chloe looked back to see the baker's daughter on her husband's arm. Adrien and her bratty daughter were right behind them, talking and laughing. Chloe had never felt so humiliated before.
'Ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous!'
Nothing was like how it was before when they were all in Francois Dupont College. She was no longer the Mayor's Daughter. Her father had moved to NYC with her mother, after high school. She had taken over as the owner of the hotel. Chloe had tried to use the same control she had in school to dictate the hotel's conditions and staff, but it failed miserably. People started to leave bad reviews of the hotel; some of the staff quit. When her father had heard about it, he offered to come back for a few months to show her how to run it properly; she had hung up on him.
Chloe Bourgeois couldn't believe that promises she had overheard as a child were over. She was suppose to marry Adrien Agreste; he was her Adrikins!
'I never should have helped him runaway from home to get into school!'
Chloe knew that was the moment everything changed in their realtionship. Everyone had turned him against her! He started speaking up more, defending others from her, and calling her a bad friend. She had hoped that one he finished 'exploring' that his new habit would be broken and they would get married after university. She had never even looked at another guy so when she found out that he had quit modeling, she thought he was getting ready to take over the company and propose. The proposal never came and Adrien had left Paris, without a word.
'It was all Baker Girl's fault! She ruined my Adrikins! Her Adrikins never behaved like this 'til he met her!'
She continued to glare at Marinette. She hated how Marinette was now rich, even richer than her. Marinette always got what she never had; a loving home, parents who cared about her, and now a husband and family. Chloe refused to believe she was jealous.
'I deserve more! I deserve my happily ever after with My Prince!'
Chloe turned her gaze to Adrien and she felt her heart stop. Adrien was on his tip-toes, kissing some guy taller than him. To add insult to injury, he looked just like Marinette. He had dark hair and blue eyes. Adrien Agreste had always been her dream Prince Charming, but she wasn't his Princess. Apparently, Adrien Agreste was the princess.
Chloe walked away as she heard Amaya ask if Uncle Adrien and Uncle Jon were excited for their wedding next month.
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ladykakata · 22 days
Text
My List of Demands for Hades II
ZAGREUS
I'm just going to list Zagreus until I run out of breath. I just need to see my baby boy again okay please tell me he's still as sweet and handsomes as ever
WHERE IS THANATOS we need our resident irritable goth to partner with the Prince of the Underworld
CERBERUS a lot of people noticed he was missing from the family portrait with baby Mel, he cannot have come to total harm otherwise there would be a massive riot and there'd be no game because Hades himself would go NUCLEAR if anything happened to his pupper
The Furies will be interesting. Meg can be salty somewhere far away from me, but Alecto getting her ass kicked by someone who isn't Zagreus would be novel. I'm betting at least two people (Meg and Zag) would make sure DUSA is safe and she's small enough/can float where she can disappear somewhere if need be
Hermes BETTER be married to Charon I swear to Gods you CANNOT put him in THAT outfit and not have them married come on. I doubt the game would let me have Zag and Than be underworld husbands but at least give THOSE TWO as a gift to the fandom
ACHILLIES AND PATROCLES. I did not watch the entire storyline playthrough multiple times and just adore how married they are only for something to mess that up. Even if it's just Patrocles holding Achilles back from attacking Odysseus I'm here for it let me see my uncles again
I'm not too worried about Persephone because a) Hades would move dimensions in order to keep her safe without hesitation and b) Grandma Demeter has her war gear on so Chronos is fucked either way
Zagreus ... mi son ... plz ... where mi son ...
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heavyhitterheaux · 7 months
Text
Down For Life
First Lady of Private Garden Instagram AU
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Liked by y/ninsta, druski2funny, urbanwyatt, normani, jaysontatum, and 105,236 others
autumnharlow: daddy watching mommy's favorite show even though he said it was dumb
urbanwyatt: he's watching the bachelor again isn't he? y/ninsta: urbanwyatt and was mad as hell that his favorite contestant didn't get a rose lmao autumnharlow: urbanwyatt all we heard was him screaming at the tv, "Kelsea?! Kelsea?!? OVER MARIAH? Are we serious right now? How can he not see that the way she even spells her name is suspect?! who spells it like that?!" y/ninsta: autumnharlow not too much on my man now! lmaooo jackharlow: what the?!? who took this?! autumnharlow seriously? autumnharlow: jackharlow mommy made me y/ninsta: it be your own kids telling on you smh jackharlow: y/ninsta well you know if we were on that show, I would choose you every time blancahood: jackharlow I guess so because she would have fought anybody that came near you lmao y/ninsta: blancahood lmaoooo no lies told jessicakelce: I still remember her beating up that girl at lunch and she grabbed 2fo's milk and hit her in the back of the head quiiso: I WAS DYINGGGGGGG LAUGHING LMAO jackharlow: well that girl shouldn't have asked me to the dance IN FRONT OF MY GIRLFRIEND, she had it coming lmao urbanwyatt: and right before our winter formal lmao yungskylark: so we just chilled in her backyard that night because she got suspended lmao shloob_: look we were like either all of private garden goes or none of us goes 😭 y/ninsta: yall been down for me since the beginning and I love it 😭
Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, 2forwoyne, quiiso, privategarden, jessicakelce, and 1,497,062 others
y/ninsta: idk who let these two out of the house unsupervised but it wasn't me 🙃
jackharlow: y/ninsta IT WAS YOU! YOU SAID I COULD GO! y/ninsta: jackharlow I don't recall baby. You just left me by my lonesome. jessicakelce: y/ninsta you not by your lonesome with them six kids you got lmao go bother them y/ninsta: jessicakelce I'm hiding from them axelwyatt: y/ninsta mom, I'm hungry y/ninsta: axelwyatt mom? who's mom? urbanwyatt: y/ninsta you better answer your kids lmaooooo y/ninsta: urbanwyatt I don't have any autumnharlow: jackharlow DADDY, MOMMY ISN'T CLAIMING US jackharlow: autumnharlow who...... who are you? blancahood: lmaooo yall are a hot ass mess smh ivyharlow: that's okay, I'm telling grandma jackharlow: IVY, YOU BETTER NOT maggieharlow: jackharlow too late. you two are starving my babies? jackharlow: maggieharlow they have eaten us out of a house, home, car, yacht, all of it smh normani: I see number 7 in the future jackharlow: normani give me a few years y/ninsta: jackharlow give you a few years to do WHAT?! jackharlow: y/ninsta love you baby 😘
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jackharlow: I know yall can tell who dressed them today 🥰
y/ninsta: Cash and Cam, my greatest joys 😍 ivyharlow: y/ninsta soooo we don't exist? we are your first born children? jessicakelce: OMG THEY ARE ADORABLE saweetie: my cutest littlest nephews! y/ninsta: ivyharlow I'm not claiming you as my child until you clean your room like I asked now get off your phone before I take it ivyharlow: y/ninsta fine smh urbanwyatt: outfits courtesy of uncle urby and auntie curse 🥰 theestallion: jackharlow has gotten better with his fashion choices over the years so I expected nothing less jackharlow: theestallion I'm ignoring you smh dualipa: awww my little babies!! so cute! brandisimmons: and look at those smiles! druski2funny: I already know from the looks on their faces, they about to be bad as hell jackharlow: druski2funny you better shut the hell up and not speak that into existence y/ninsta: druski2funny imma whoop your ass druski2funny: yall remember when I was babysitting the triplets and they tied me to a chair and put tape over my mouth? I was trapped for hours jackharlow: druski2funny lmaoooo I still have photographic evidence, how could we forget? y/ninsta: nah, but urbanwyatt got the worst of it because he was put in solitary confinement lmaooo urbanwyatt: y/ninsta don't bring up old shit smh jackandy/naremyparents: still so happy to witness the life that they created for themselves allthingsy/n: been here since the beginning and still going strong!
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Liked by urbanwyatt, claybornharlow, blancahood, saweetie, quiiso, privategarden, and 2,384,200 others
y/ninsta: the face I make on a daily basis because these kids have me fighting for my life
jackharlow THIS IS YOUR FAULT
jackharlow: you wanna make another one? y/ninsta: jackharlow BLOCKED dualipa: jackharlow you've done enough lmao get off of her jackharlow: dualipa I can never do enough y/ninsta: jackharlow SAYS WHO? jackharlow: y/ninsta me 🥰 y/ninsta: normani look what you started smh quiiso: jackharlow y/ninsta yall can have another one and give it to me jackharlow: quiiso yeah right, all y/ninsta has to do is take one look at them and she's going to want to keep them brandisimmons: jackharlow she has a nurturing spirit, we all know this. that's why she was able to keep yall asses in check 2forwoyne: brandisimmons now why am I in it? brandisimmons: 2forwoyne because you liked to steal people's food back in the day smh 2forwoyne: look if it was left unclaimed, I was eating it y/ninsta: 2forwoyne sounds like my second born smh axelwyatt: maggieharlow they still didn't feed me jackharlow: axelwyatt now why are you lying? 🙄 maggieharlow: jackharlow that's okay. I'm coming to get them and feeding them and you can't have any claybornharlow: I'm coming too jackharlow: claybornharlow the accidental child has returned y/ninsta: JACKMAN STOP IT RIGHT NOW claybornharlow: y/ninsta it's okay, I'm just biding my time jackharlow: claybornharlow what are you planning? 👀👀👀 y/ninsta: oh good lord smh claybornharlow: jackharlow that's for me to know and you'll find out when the time comes ivyharlow: uncle clay just blame it on autumn, she does everything else she's not supposed to autumnharlow: ivyharlow and that's why you're adopted ivyharlow: autumn, I look exactly like our mother, try again axelwyatt: I'm still the favorite sooooo the two of you arguing is unnecessary smh
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Liked by jackharlow, cardib, generationnow, estgee, lilnasx, drusi2funny, 2forwoyne, and 4,291,763 others
y/ninsta: Ivy, Axel, Autumn, Nova, Cash, and Camden Harlow's momma 🥰
Damn that was a mouthful 🤣
jackharlow: we going for number seven 😍😍😍😍 y/ninsta: jackharlow don't make me block you again saweetie: jack, pleaseeee let my girl live lmaoooo y/ninsta: saweetie that's okay, he's going to wake up one day and hear the tires screeching out the driveway and he'll have to fend for himself for 48 hours urbanwyatt: jackharlow and don't call me to help you druski2funny: jackharlow or me. I've had enough of my fair share of terror of the Harlow children y/ninsta: NOT TOO MUCH ON MY BABIES NOW 🤨🤨🤨 autumnharlow: y/ninsta nice of you to claim us, mother y/ninsta: autumnharlow don't you have homework to do? jessicakelce: the blue hair baddie has returned! sza: do I hear a girls trip in the future being planned? jackharlow: sza NO. not unless y/ninsta can put me in her suitcase quiiso: jackharlow now bruh....... urbanwyatt: jackharlow lmaoooo now you know good and well privategarden is having flashbacks from the last time when we had to BEG neelam to buy you a plane ticket to go and see your wife yungskylark: he had everybody's ass stressed out claybornharlow: and was getting on maggieharlow's nerves so I know it was bad lmao she was calling me saying 'please come and get your brother to entertain him because I don't know how much more I can take' lmaooooo axelwyatt: he's been a simp since he was 14 and nothing has changed jackharlow: axelwyatt being a simp is what got you here so tread lightly and you are just as bad if not WORSE than me when it comes to your mom autumnharlow: hmm dad has a point, ax y/ninsta: yall better not come for my baby! jackharlow: y/ninsta I knew you'd have my back 🥰 y/ninsta: jackharlow I was talking about axel jackharlow: y/ninsta SO YOU JUST LEAVE ME TO FEND FOR MYSELF? y/ninsta: jackharlow yes, you can handle it urbanwyatt: LMAOOOOOOO axel is literally jackharlow in a kid's body
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Liked by brandisimmons, theshaderoom, blancahood, sza, theestallion, jaysontatum, urbanwyatt, and 2,182,963 others
y/ninsta: my face when jackharlow suggests we make another baby. SIR, MY VAGINA IS TIRED 😫
saweetie: jackharlow imma have to kidnap her if you don't let my girl live in peace jackharlow: saweetie not too much on me now. yall remember last week when you, her, and hot chips went to brunch and drank all those damn mimosas? I came to get her, drunk off her ass and she was damn near trying to rip my clothes off as I was driving. IT'S NOT ME, IT'S HER urbanwyatt: lmaooo and I was a witness to this so jackharlow is in fact not lying lmaoooo sza: hmm we have evidence in the group chat that suggests otherwise, but since you have a witness this time, imma let it slide y/ninsta: jackharlow I... what? not you telling on me jackharlow: y/ninsta I had to defend my name! you always throwing me under the bus! claybornharlow: jackharlow actually you do that to yourself, but.... druski2funny: now why am I up there? what I do?! y/ninsta: druski2funny you cheap as hell for giving the triplets a coupon to mcdonalds for their birthday and told them that they had to all share the medium fry that the coupon was for blancahood: PLEASEEEEEEEEEEEE 2forwoyne: now druski2funny you know better lmao lilnasx: he ghetto as hell and he doesn't know any better smh druski2funny: y/ninsta I HADN'T GOTTEN PAID YET jackharlow: druski2funny lies you tell jessicakelce: their faces were priceless lmaoooo autumnharlow: and he wonders why he got tied up smh axelwyatt: playing cops and robbers, but there was nothing to rob since he didn't have anything normani: I AM LITERALLY CRYINGGGG druski2funny: now why everybody coming for me?!? y/ninsta: druski2funny and you wanted to be his life partner so bad, but cheap as hell? that was not about to fly smh jackharlow: y/ninsta sooo about number seven? y/ninsta: jackharlow you know I'm down for you for life but.... ABSOLUTELY NOT smh jackharlow: well it was worth a shot I guess smh
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purpletrashcans · 27 days
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I am so fucking annoyed and here is why
I recently made the discovery that i'm probably aromantic and i would like to do what i did when i discoverd that i'm trans which is go and watch/read everything that even has the tiniest bit of trans representation in it, but i can't because there is no aromantic representation
now obviously that's nothing new, i was aware of this problem before and it pissed me right off then as much as it does now
it’s honestly just such bullshit that whenever there is an asexual character in media, basically the first thing they say after coming out as ace is that "they still want to fall in love" like not wanting, not being able to feel romantic love, would make them less human or something like that and of course there are ace people who are not aro, i'm not saying that and i'm not trying to shit on anybodys identity, if you are ace and not aro you are just as valid as anybody else and this lack of aro rep is obviously not your fault, we also need more ace rep while we're on it, that's not the point i'm trying to make, what i mean is that media always tells us that romance makes us human and if you don’t experience that you are either immature, unstable or not human and that's just bullshit
also it is no wonder that when i told my grandma about Loveless by Alice Oseman and how much i love this book, she was worried that i was like Georgia because i never like anyone romantically, she has never heard of aromanticism before, when she thinks of adult people that have never been in a relationship and don't have children she thinks of lonely, sad people and she doesn't want that for me
it is no wonder that when i see my greataunt and -uncle once a year they ask if i have a partner and when i say that no, i don't have a partner, they tell me that i have time and i'll meet someone eventually
and it is no wonder that so, so many people think that they're broken, that they enter relationships and situations that they don't want to be in, that fucking therapist try to cure people, that it took me 21 years, almost losing my friends, actually losing 8 kg in two months do to disordered eating and reading Loveless two times to figure out that i might just be aro, when there is barely any representation whatsoever, when most people haven't even heard of aromanticism
we need more representation and we need it desperately, that way not only will aro people discover their identity sooner and safe themselves a whole lot of trouble, but allo people can also learn how to react to someone being aro and we can all learn that being aro isn't sad or inhumane or weird or lonely
and because i'm a fancy-schmancy college student (who wrote "collage" instead of "college" first because i can not spell)(and have watched too much criminal minds) i would like to end this with a quote by Mariah Wright Edelman (tho the quotes are the worst part of criminal minds, they are so cringe istg):
“You can’t be what you can’t see”
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alonetimelover · 7 months
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Hey! Hope I’m not too late for the blurb weekend requests - could you please do 29 from the six word as fluff and just banter between y/n and H? ❤️
"Where are my manners, my dear."
pairing: Harry Styles x polish!reader
summary: “I can’t believe you,” she laughed, shaking her head in amusement. “Out of all the days in a year you chose this one to be like this?” “Like what?” He teased, moving his right hand up to her cheek. He held her face in place so she couldn’t look away from him. “Like I would really like to just take you right he-”
word count: 0,7k
blurb#1 blurb#2 blurb#3
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“You’re stepping on thin ice, Harry,” YN warned Harry, eyes flexed on him. 
“How thin?” 
Harry smirked at her, feeding from how frustrated she was. They were celebrating with her family some Polish holiday Harry couldn't remember even if his life depended on it. And he was insufferable. From the minute he woke up, stealing the blanket, waking her up two hours earlier than needed, making his coffee in her mug, overseasoning the breakfast, making it inedible and to top it off, being very, and YN thought, very provoking not to leave the house. 
“It’s starting to crack, that thin.” 
YN moved to the fridge and took out all the premade snacks that she knew her grandma would be looking for in moments. She unwrapped the foil from the plates and put them on the counter. When she reached for some fresh basil and parsley to decorate the dishes with, she felt Harry’s hands on her hips, his breath tickling the skin on her neck. 
“Good thing I know how to swim.”
“You think?” She wiggled her body around to face him. “Fancy a swim?”
“With you? Always, my baby.”
“I can’t believe you,” she laughed, shaking her head in amusement. “Out of all the days in a year you chose this one to be like this?”
“Like what?” He teased, moving his right hand up to her cheek. He held her face in place so she couldn’t look away from him. “Like I would really like to just take you right he-”
“Oh, there you two are!” Interrupted the heavy accented voice from behind Harry’s back. 
YN cleared her throat and pushed Harry away. Still smirking, Harry turned around to face his best friend. 
“Babcia (granny)! There you are. I was just about to look for you.” 
“I know I’m old, but I’m not stupid, Harry.” Now it was granny’s turn to smirk. “You are a naughty boy, keeping my granddaughter all to yourself!” 
Harry blushed, just like that losing all his wit and adventurousness. Behind him, YN was grinning at her granny. Of course, it was quite embarrassing to be caught in a somehow compromised position, but at the same time, granny knew that all of Harry’s songs were about her granddaughter. And yes, she knew the meanings. 
“Yeah, tell him, granny.”
Harry turned around, glaring at YN with an open mouth and thespian shock painted all over his face. “You both against me? I’m used to YN being like this, but you, granny? My heart is breaking right here.” 
“You really are an actor,” granny laughed, patting Harry’s cheek. “Go back to the party. Out of my kitchen. Now. Shush, shush.” 
After some bickering from Harry and YN that they wanted to help her prepare everything, they flew out of the kitchen being chased off with a kitchen cloth. 
Harry wrapped his arm around YN and led them to the terrace where the party was in full swing. The grill was smoking with YN’s two uncles arguing about the rawness of the steaks above it. Her younger cousins were running around the garden, playing catch and destroying too many flowers. 
“Harry, YN! Come here, come!” Called the family’s friend - Anna, waving her hand towards the table near the middle of the deck. “We’re discussing whether or not we should go canoeing.” 
After briefly looking at each other, they moved to the older part of the family, ready to discuss whatever was worth of so much noise and outtalking. Nearing the two empty chairs, YN went for the one near her mother. 
“Where are my manners, my dear,” Harry quickly interrupted YN’s actions and moved the chair for her, wiping it from the imaginary dust, blowing the air on it to finish the act. 
The table laughed at his antics, making Harry’s smirk grow deeper in the right side of his face, dimples daring its presence there. Oh, he loved attention and the look on YN’s face. 
When the commotion cooled down and the conversation came back on its tracks, YN leaned towards Harry’s ear, whispering “I hope you know that you’re gonna pay for all of this.” 
“Oh, I’m counting on it, baby.” 
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AITA for changing my (30 FtM) name?
I was born with a very angrogynous/masculine name. For the sake of this post we'll say it's Alex Andrew Lastname. I was bullied for it growing up and can often see on people's faces that they were expecting someone different when they see my name first. I never liked my name growing up because I didn't think I fit the vibe. I'm just not an "Alex". But honestly, if I ever fully pass, that could change.
I recognize I've hit the trans guy jackpot. I've seen quite a few trans men change their names to my birth name, first and middle. Logically, I'd never have to change it for safety or validation reasons.
I've been using a different name for years now. My partner of 10 years doesn't know me by another name and cringes when we have to use Alex for legal paperwork. This name has been public knowledge to everyone including my family for about 8 years. We'll say this new name is "Elijah" (it is not)
The problem arises when I bring up my final legal name choice to my mom.
"Why that? I would have never named you that. I don't think it suits you." I double down and explain I like the name and don't mind the religious connotation (we went to church but she's always appropriated eastern religions, I am not religious) Additionally, SHE should have been using it all this time, even when I'm not there. She complains. "Can't I still call you Alex? I mean, I gave birth to you, I should still be able to call you Alex. I gave you that name because it was androgynous and cool, why do you want to change it?" I tell her again, no. If she's the only person deadnaming me, other people will feel they have the right to. "Can I call you Al?" No, sorry. "Can I call you Andrew? I named you after your uncle, he didn't do anything wrong."
Because she's pushing back so much, I tell her the truth. Growing up, she was abusive and negligent. When she did use my name, she said it like she hated me. When I was in trouble, when she was disagreeing with me, when she bullied me. She didn't really say my name in rare situations where she was proud because she was jealous and focused on making sure everyone knew I was cool and "unique" because I was "her kid". Because of it, I cringe when I hear my birth name. It's a strong name, a good name, even, but it makes me feel small and tired. I told her I was proud of her going to therapy, that we could start over, but that I'm asking to be respected as a person.
Shortly after I was born, she asked my grandma to draw up a tattoo of my deadname. It's a large, dark piece on her entire lower back. I told her I don't expect her to cover it, that she can keep it and mourn the name however she feels, but I'd like to get a matching, small tattoo with her to celebrate my new name if she's interested. She didn't really respond. She finally said she still doesn't like the name Elijah, but asked if she could call me Eli (yeah, obviously)
Despite all of this reaching some sort of compromise, I've heard I've made a bad decision from both sides. Some think I was too gentle and understanding and should have essentially said "fuck you this is my name take it or leave it". Others think I should have kept my deadname because there was nothing wrong with it, I'm being too emotional about it, or that I'm choosing to inconvenience others by changing things age 30. There's also the idea that no one really likes their name so it's not a great reason to change it.
AITA for having no real reason to change my name and doing so anyway?
What are these acronyms?
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harlowcomehome · 8 months
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Arts and concerts:
Requested by the beautiful and talented @jackharloww!
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Jack had been frantically looking around the house for his keys, checking every counter and dresser possible.
“You didn’t hang them up?” You asked as he frantically started to check his pant pockets.
“I thought I did” his face was starting to grow red. He was supposed to be at the venue doing sound check already for NPLH.
“This is a fucking disaster” he threw his hands up in defeat as he sat on the bed.
“Baby, it’s fine. Take my car and I’ll keep looking” You walked over to him pushing his curls out of his face and planting a soft kiss on his pouty lips. You started to place kisses on his jawline, making him finally break out into a smile.
“I’m sorry, I’m just stressed” he took your face into his hands, giving you a more passionate kiss. You were interrupted by Hazel who watched the two of you in disgust from the doorframe.
“I found these” She had Jack's car keys hanging from her index finger as she held them as high in the air as possible.
Jack jumped off the bed immediately, grabbing them and picking Hazel up to spin her around. She giggled as her dad placed her back on the ground. “You’re a lifesaver Hazey!”
“Remember that tonight! I want my shout-out!” She giggled as Jack went and said his goodbyes to Jade who was pouting on the couch.
“What’s wrong Jadey?” Jack checked the time before taking a moment to sit with her.
“Don’t want you to leave” she mumbled.
“It’ll just be a few hours and then you three can come to the show with Uncle Clay! I promise” he held out his pinky to his youngest daughter who rolled her eyes but obliged anyway.
He gave you one more kiss before running out of the house.
“Drive safe! You have people who love you!” You always reminded him of that as he left the house, he blew you three kisses as he pulled away.
“Mommy, are we still making bracelets for Daddy's show?” Hazel already had the box of organized beads in her hand.
“Only if you tell me where you found those keys” you giggled, having a good idea.
Jade climbed down from the couch and over to you both, “I was sitting on them.”
Hazel laughed, not expecting her little sister to come clean so easily. “Jadey!”
“I wanna make bracelets” she shrugged as she climbed into the kitchen chair and waited for the two of you.
“Let’s not do that again! Your dad almost-“You paused and attempted to think of a better way to word what you wanted to say.
“Lost his marbles?” Jade giggled and you nodded knowing that’s how Grandma Maggie would’ve explained it.
You sat down at the table with the girls giving them bowls to put their beads in to eliminate some mess and then you showed them both how to tie them.
“Mommy! You’re fast!” Jade giggled as she watched your pile of bracelets quickly grow.
“My friends and I used to do this before shows in high school!” You giggled as you looked at Hazel and Jade's smaller piles.
“Do you think people will trade with us?” Hazel asked excitedly.
“I think so! Daddy made a post asking everyone to make bracelets so we are hoping the turnout is good” you smiled.
Jade was looking at the alphabetical beads for a moment before you noticed.
“Need my help bug? What do you want to put on yours?”
“Daddys girl!” She giggled as her feet swung underneath the table.
“I don’t think anyone would want that one though” Hazel giggled innocently. “Right mommy?”
“No, I think… I think someone would probably want to trade for that one” You smirked as you helped her look for the correct beads.
Hazel was confused at your response but luckily didn’t question it.
By the time show time came around, you had a combined 36 bracelets to trade. Clay drove the four of you to the venue to meet Jack before he went on stage.
“Do you think we made enough?” Hazel shook the plastic container that was holding the bracelets as you walked through the venue.
“I think that’s plenty” Clay chuckled shooting you a smile as you waited for Jack.
Jack greeted the four of you with a big hug before picking Jade up and balancing her on his side.
He bent down to give you a kiss before Hazel interrupted holding the container of bracelets up for him to see.
“What are these?” He smiled, sorting through the container. He immediately saw Jade's “daddy’s girl” bracelet and blushed thinking you made it.
“Jade made that one” you pointed when you saw his gaze.
“Oh yeah?”
“I made this one!” Hazel pulled one out of the container to give to Jack. “It’s not to trade! I made it for you!”
“For me?” Jack immediately put it on his wrist.
“I made you that one” Jade pointed to a purple and black bracelet that was sitting on top.
“You two are the sweetest! Thank you” Jack smiled as he put Jades on too.
“Hey! Where’s mine?” You teased and Hazel rummaged through the bracelets handing you one. Jade was too distracted talking to her dad to notice.
“This one’s for you!” Hazel gave you Jades bracelet still without her little sister noticing.
“Because you’re daddie’s girl right?” Hazel held her head to the side mildly confused, making you and Jack hold back laughter.
“Well, I need to go” he chuckled to himself “I need to go get ready.” He motioned for Clay to follow him as he sat Jade down on the ground beside you.
“Mhm,” you narrowed your eyes at him as you tried to contain your laughter.
“Let’s go sit down” You silently shook your head at your husband who was laughing down the hallway with his brother.
“Daddy is silly. He gots the giggles” Jade giggled too as she held your hand and walked with you.
“Yes, he’s very silly” you smiled as both of your daughters followed to the VIP area to wait for Jack to start the show.
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