#Bee's headcanons

[sanriokamabodo]

had a really fun idea for a more modern setting where u and ur bestie are in a sorority with like 20 other girls. and akaza is dating ur bestie and u and all the other girls are skeptical because he's a demon and even worse real fucking uptight.

muzan being muzan is of course skeptical because a demon? dating a human girl? surrounded by even more human girls in a sorority?

cue douma aggressively excitedly offering to volunteer to stake the place out at the drop of the word sorority. because duh? girls.

imagine it's like a movie night where all of you are downstairs huddled up infront of the tv with snacks, wearing ur comfy clothes. and akaza comes in and some of the girls kinda sigh because there's his ass again, wait... who's his really cute friend?

and douma just introduces himself politely making u and all the girls go absolutely apeshit over his charms and good lucks. "wow do u work out?" "can i braid ur hair? it looks so soft" "omg your SO funny!" and to akaza's dismay he's immediately invited to girls night, the next five parties and like two dates. whereas akaza didn't even know about the coming events.

[wylldebee]

Okay, hear me out. Unohana...but with freckles. Just...a little faint dusting of tiny freckles across her nose. Unnoticeable ones. You have to be really close to her face to see them - like 'antagonist leaning close into the protags face for intimidation' type close. Nose-to-nose type close. The thing is, Unohana hates her freckles. She's hated them since she went by the name Yachiru. She was a criminal! A murderer! What criminal/murderer has freckles?! Anyone who mentions them ends up dead in a ditch missing one or all their limbs. The real reason she threw hands with child!Zaraki? Little bastard noticed her freckles and called them out. She couldn't let him live after that and that totally backfired. The only one - the only one - who gets away with this is Isane. Because Isane gives her nose kisses when she calls them cute when they're alone, and Unohana is weak for nose kisses and the way Isane is smiling when she does it.

[yuukirita]

We can have both! Horn Bee- AND puppy bee. Solution? make em move.

Also Optimus Prime's lil antenna things move as well because I want to.

[reidmania]

post it note | s. reid

summary; when yours and spencer's schedules begin to clash making it hard to see each other - even while living together, a silent act of affection in the shape of a post it note helps make all better.

warnings; fem reader, reader has a job that needs her to wake up early, literally no angst really at all, this is pure fluff, the fluffest fluff ever, established relationships, this was gonna be a no dialogue fic, but there is dialogue and its the sweetest ever. spencer is clingy, spencer is SOO in love.

an; this is the fluffiest shit ive ever written, also i finally figured out how to make custom colours on this silly thing. 2k words yay.

It was a month since Spencer had asked you to move in with him when it all started. You wanted to be able to see each other more, since it was difficult to do so when he was being called out to cases constantly. While you would see each other when he got back, see each other whenever you could, between your work, and his, it made it difficult. You already had clothes at his house. The first time you had ever come over, he had given you a drawer in his dresser, dedicated to whatever you wanted to put into it.

That drawer grew to your necklaces and rings being left on his side table, a version of your perfume next to his cologne on top of his dresser, a toothbrush next to his in the white mug he used as a makeshift toothbrush holder, a pair of your shoes by the door, a few of your coats hanging up next to his by the entrance, your favourite snacks and drinks stocked in his pantry and fridge, you basically already lived there – because Spencer wanted you to be comfortable in the place of his house whenever you were there

So you moving in was a no brainer.

Unfortunately, it seemed the issue wasn’t such an easy fix. While you got comfortable in his home, and saw him somewhat more than before, new issues occurred. He didn’t get home most nights till you were already fast asleep, curled up on the side of the bed dedicated to you, he would shower and change as quietly as possible not to wake you, then he would slip into bed and pull you into his arms. You would shuffle and ease into his touch, he would fall asleep holding you, you would remain asleep in his arms.

Then, in the morning you would wake up before him to leave for work. You hated that, having to unwrap his arms from you and watch him shuffle uncomfortably before finding a replacement to your warmth in the thick covers. You would get ready quietly, before you would spend a moment sitting on the edge of the bed, making sure he was comfortable as you brushed a strand of hair away from his forehead, admiring his peaceful features, placing a kiss on his forehead before you left for the day.

When you did see each other, properly, consciously. Everything was fine, it was great. It was mostly when Spencer got to finish work earlier, being able to be home for dinner when you made it. Sometimes he would call you and ask you to hold off making dinner till he got home, just so he could make it with you. You always would. Those evenings the two of you would spend in the kitchen making dinner with each other, he would wrap his arms around your waist, pressing his chest against your back as he leant down to rest his chin on your forehead. You’d sway softly together to whatever music you had been playing quietly in the background while he mumbled gently whispers of love into your ear.

On the mornings you didn’t have to work as early, you’d sleep in, Spencer would wake up earlier those days to spend the morning with you before he had to leave for work. He would pull you closer so you were basically laying on his chest, he would pepper your face with kisses as you let out a string of sweet laugher that made his chest swell. It was the same routine, he would lean in for a kiss, you’d complain about morning breath and then kiss him anyways before you brushed your teeth together making sweet jokes. 

The sweet evenings and giddy mornings made those nights and mornings you didn’t get to properly spend time together a little easier to cope with.

The idea came to you one night while you were cleaning up before bed. Spencer had called you a few hours ago to let you know that he was going to be there a little later. He always lets you know. He didn’t want to leave you hanging, and he never did. You understood the demands of his job, you’d never blame him for that. You two were handling the difficulties the best you could. However as you cleaned the kitchen your mind drifted. 

Moments later you were digging through the drawers in his home office, pulling out a pile of dulled out pink post it notes (ones he had started using rather than yellow ones because you said you liked them.) You grabbed a pen from the collection he had laid out, neatly organised on the side of his desk, and wrote a soft ‘I love you’ on the top note, before pulling it away from the rest of the collection, placing the rest back in his draw and putting his pen back, exactly how it was, before you stood and paddered through the house.

You stuck it to the door where you knew he would see it. You didn’t have to worry about him missing it. Spencer spent time making sure the doors and windows were locked, not only because he knew the dangers of otherwise, but he had taken that small routine so much more seriously since you had moved in. You knew he would notice it. That's all you wanted. Sure, you could’ve just sent it as a text, but chances are Spencer would see it as soon as you sent it. That wasn’t what you wanted. The nights you weren’t up to see him when he got home, you weren’t able to mumble the soft reminder to him before you fell asleep, give him any sort of affection later in the night. It was a small thing, but you hoped he found it sweet.

The next morning you woke up tangled in Spencer’s arms. He was fast asleep, eyebrows furrowed in comfort, lips slightly parted as soft breaths left his lips. Your heart pulled as you untangled yourself from his arms and left the bed. You watched for a moment as his brows furrowed further, arms reaching out for your body in his sleep and your stomach flipped. That moment you looked away, knowing if you didn’t you would end up back in his arms and not at work. You moved around the room quietly, getting yourself ready trying your best not to wake him. 

“Come back” You heard his voice and your head spun to see he had shifted to sit up a little bit more, watching as you moved around the room. His eyes were lidded with sleep and he was clearly unimpressed by your absence. This was why you tried to be so quiet in the mornings. He had said numerous times you could wake him up before you left, but then the one time you did, it ended in you both calling in sick to work and staying in bed for way too many hours.

“Good morning” You replied as you pulled on your jacket before you walked over to him. Not giving into his request despite how much you wanted to. You hand reached out to brush strands of messy hair away from his forehead, then getting distracted and running your hand gently through the soft strands of hair. His hand caught your wrist softly, pulling your hand to interlace his fingers with yours before he pressed his lips against your knuckles softly, your chest warmed.

“Hi angel,” he mumbled back, looking up at you. His hand gently tugged on yours trying to silently plead you back into his arms. It took a lot of self control not to give in and bury yourself into the place next to him, forget about work and any responsibilities and lose to him.

But you had a moment, and if Spencer was awake, you would spend it with him.

“How was work?” You asked, a lot of the time the question came the day after. Not hearing about his day immediately didn’t make you any less interested in hearing about it. You allowed yourself to shuffle closer to him, your forearm resting gently against his chest as he continued to press his lips against your knuckles softly.

He huffed out a warm breath of air against the skin of your fingers, “Fine, I missed you” he said gently. You were sure every time he said something your heart doubled in size, because although you had heard the words from him maybe a million times, it didn’t change how sweet he sounded saying them. The rest of the time you had before needing to leave for work was a mix between getting ready, and trying to deny Spencer’s soft plea’s for you to stay just a few minutes more before he finally gave in to letting you leave for the day, not without a few soft kisses to your lips, and your loving complaint about morning breath.

When you left the bedroom, ready, you made your way to the kitchen to make coffee like every other morning. You and Spencer liked two different types of coffee beans, he always made sure to keep them both stocked. You got the travel cup ready before making your way over to the pantry to get out your coffee beans, your heart swelled almost painfully at the sight when you opened the door.

The post it note you had stuck to the door, was placed on your bag of coffee beans. You had almost forgotten about it, but with the silent acknowledgement that he had seen it, you couldn’t help the smile on your face. The fact he could have just smiled and binned it, but instead moved it to a place he knew you would see it, like you had for him. It was the silent act of love and affection that made the nights and mornings you didn’t get to spend time together so much easier.

When you got home, before you went to bed you moved the post it note to his desk in his home office, when you woke up to leave for work, he had moved it to your work bag. From that point on it became a silent game between the two of you. Neither of you vocally acknowledged it, you didn’t need to. Each night before you went to bed you would move it for him to find when he got home, each morning you would find it in a new place. It became something you looked forward to everyday, finding out where he had placed it.

It had been a year since it started, the same post it note was used every time, the same one that you had placed on the door the first time. You both kept up with it, there wasn’t a single day either of you skipped moving it around, even the days you had off, or the days Spencer finished early. Whoever woke up first would move it, and whoever went to bed last would move it again. 

You were wrapped in Spencer’s arms, one of the nights he was able to finish early. You were pretty sure he had already moved the post it note since he had pressed kisses against your forehead before telling you to stay in bed, before he left the room for a few minutes, then returned with a giddy smile.

He was half asleep when he murmured out your name, your head resting on his chest as his arms remained tightly wrapped around you. You had let out a soft hum in response, the tiredness affecting you just as much as him. He had leant down and nuzzled his face into your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo before pressing a soft kiss against the top of your head.

“When I propose, I'm gonna do it with a thousand post it notes” He spoke so gently, voice laced with sleep. Your breath hitched slightly even in the tired state, your mind fogged and your chest aches – in the best way at the mention of him proposing. The vocal mention of the game you two had been playing for the last year of your relationship, the fact the silent ache was so insanely important to him, just like it was to you.

“Yeah?” you whispered back. You felt him nod into your hair as his fingers came to slowly brush through the strands.

“Mhm, Then I wanna be buried with the original.”

[hello-sweetheart]

Neat Freak

Steve’s parents don’t make him keep the house spotless. He really is just that clean and when Nancy tries to tell people there like “lol, sure” but she knows.

He’s a neat freak.

When she would stay over she would change into her pjs and make a small bundle of her day clothes on his desk chair, and steve would just. Fold them. Before getting in bed with her.

Doesn’t take long after for the others to realize it.

Robin thought it was just a guy thing, caring that much about their car. Scolding her for kicking her socked feet up on the dash, and leaving crumbs of toast when she had breakfast to go.

But then she visits his house the first time and Robin has never been good at using a coaster, too scatter brained to pay attention where she sets her drink down each time.

Steve, though? Without missing a beat he will move her glass to the coaster. Every time. Doesn’t even break his strike or pauses his conversation it’s just muscle memory by now.

The kids have had their will broken and no longer put up a fight.

Without being told to anymore, they toe off their shoes and hang their coat by the doorway. They don’t even do that in their own home. How Steve was able to get those wild animals house broken? No body knows.

His mom didn’t actually choose his room decor. It looks a bit barren but Steve likes it that way. It looks clean, easier to do so, too. Everything has its place tucked away from sight so it’s not an eye sore.

Even his plaid wallpaper and curtains he chose for himself. He spent all day finding the curtains that matched the closest and he was really proud of himself when found some.

“Steve, buddy, this looks mental.”

“But look,” (closest the curtains to show that even the pattern lines up seemlessly) “you almost can’t even see the difference between the wall and fabric. It’s like magic! It’s cool!” >:(

He’s very meticulous about his appearance. Dustin is absolutely flabbergasted when he sees his full hair routine for himself. Everything must be done a certain way in a certain order every time. It’s routine.

“Three puffs of the Farah Fawcett! THREE!”

“I DID THREE.”

“YEAH, BUT YOU DID THEM WRONG.”

When they discontinue it, Steve has a mini breakdown. He doesn’t like that his very specific and set routine has been broken. He’s convinced he’ll never find a hair spray to replace it. Everybody stocks up on cans of it to try and lower his anxiety.

He just loves cleaning, okay?

Ironing his kakis and polos until there are no wrinkles is so satisfying. Glass without finger smudges is so nice. His closet being organized by color is so efficient. When he’s worried, anxious, or angry he likes to keep his hands busy and it just calms him down going ham on a water stain in the bathroom.

When he hangs out at Eddie’s, he mindlessly starts picking things up here and there. It’s like heaven for him. He sees a mess and just wants to go to town. Eddie doesn’t mind as long as he knows where everything is in the end. He’ll admit that having his music organized alphabetically is pretty convenient.

It’s also a little funny to watch Steve iron his ripped jeans and battle jacket with an iron he brought from home.

“You’re a freak, Harrington.” Eddie has a shit eating grin. Steve flips him off.

“Fuck off.”

[gender-thief2]

rip remus lupin you would’ve loved ibuprofen

[superbat-love]

Dick: Bruce, what does it mean when someone’s heart rate increases around another person?

Bruce: Alright, I expected this question to be brought up eventually. It’s a physiological response mediated by both biological and biochemical processes when one experiences moments of arous-

Dick: And whenever you see this person, they just seem to light up the room?

Bruce: I can’t do this. Clark, you have a go at answering his question.

Clark: Well Dick, when a bat and a bee meet, though of different species, the bee’s heart starts to sing. And so, it shines as bright as the sun and feel the urge to sting…

[keferon]

YOU KNOW WHAT. I WANT EARTHSPARK PROWL AND BEE TO BE LIKE THIS

AND THIS

AND THIS

Some of the images are taken from this analysis btw it's great

[thebeesatemyknees]

141 as ex-husbands

Some ex-husband (ooc) Simon Ghost Riley, John Price, Kyle Gaz Garrick and Johnny Soap MacTavish x reader headcanons.

Word count: 860 || No warnings (let me know if any). || Reader: gender neutral. Pronouns: "you"

Note: In all four scenarios, you got divorced for fairly harmless reasons. You were getting along, you loved each other, there was no fighting. But perhaps you realised that you both have different hopes for the future. Maybe you got sick of waiting for him, missing him, of worrying if he's gonna come home alive and in one piece. Maybe he didn't realise how lonely you felt beside him.

Ex-husband Simon Riley, who still thinks of you as "his", but not in a possessive way. You're still his person, his family. He still would do anything for you and wouldn't even give it a second thought. 

You need help assembling new furniture? He can come by after work. Need a ride to the doctor's appointment? He needed to run some errands anyway, it's not a big deal. Anything happens while he's deployed? You can call his base and he'll contact you as soon as possible.

And he doesn't expect anything back. How could he? He's gonna do anything for you because that's what you're supposed to do for your people. And he'll give you your space, keep it clean between you. You wanted a divorce and he respects that, doing his best not to overstep any boundaries. He's mindful of the things he says, keeps his hands away from you. A respectful distance.

But God, does he miss you. If you showed the slightest interest in getting back together, he would agree immediately, going back to what you two had, as if the divorce never happened. 

Ex-husband John Price, who kinda forgets that you're not married anymore. Similar to Simon, John still thinks of you as his and would do anything for you without expecting anything back. 

But you often have to remind him that he's overstepping. "Darling" or "love" casually added to his sentences. Hands gently holding your shoulders or hips while he directs you to move to a different spot. He doesn't do it on purpose. The last thing he'd want is to disrespect your boundaries or make you uncomfortable. But keeping you close just comes so naturally to him.

He apologises quietly when you reprimand him, pulling his hands away and restating what he said without the pet name this time.

He wouldn't beg you to give him another chance. He's got enough respect, towards you and himself, to not be dramatic, to not make it messy. But he has a hard time accepting this new reality.

Ex-husband Kyle Garrick, who subconsciously goes back to courting you, as if your marriage never happened and all of it was still ahead of you. 

He's more distant, doesn't initiate touches, doesn't use pet names anymore. And at first you think it's because that's just how break-ups work, because he'd moved on. But it all seems to be caused by him suddenly becoming almost shy around you. 

He sends you messages from time to time, checking if you're doing alright. He asks you out for coffee, just to catch up. You ended things on good terms, so there's no harm in it, right? And you can see him trying to act casually about it. He brings you one singular flower he picked on his way to the café. Cuz you like them, don't you? It's not a big deal, he saw it and put it in the pocket of his jacket. So casual. Then, your conversation stays on a purely platonic path. Well, except for a few compliments and pick up lines he throws your way. But that's what friends do! And if you don't let him drive you home, he asks you to at least text him to let him know you got back safely.

If you confront him about his behaviour, he gets quiet. His jaw twitches, a shameful look fills his eyes as he looks away, unable to fully face you. He doesn't feel like he's in the position to defend himself, to argue. He's guilty. He wants you back for himself. And he so badly regrets letting you go without trying harder to fix things.

Ex-husband Johnny MacTavish, who becomes bitter towards the whole world. He's not happy about losing you and he's straightforward about it. He's hurt, filled with regrets, he's angry - but not directly at you. He understands and respects your wishes, but he's just so angry with himself. Angry that he didn't notice where your marriage was going, that he didn't change his ways, that he assumed that you're his and therefore he's got a lot of time to slowly fix things. Angry that he didn't do enough. 

He wouldn't hide his emotions. He wouldn't get shy,  wouldn't just quietly yearn for you. 

He keeps his hands to himself, making sure he doesn't make you uncomfortable and that you still feel safe around him. But he continuously asks you for another chance. He knows better now. He can be better. Just give him a chance. Or at least let him do this or that for you. And don't act as if him helping you is weird! He's yours, nothing will change that. He promised he'd be there in sickness and in health, and he meant it. No matter how much your life-paths split. So stop pushing him away and just let him help. He'll stop asking you for a second chance, but at least let him be there for you.

He aggressively offers himself to you. Getting upset and moody if you act as if he was more akin to a stranger rather than someone who belonged, body and soul, to you.

[hmmm-shesucks]

Once the foxes become more comfortable with each other, they begin to nag. Mostly little things, usually humorous things. They nag on Nicky for being too forward sometimes. They nag on Neil for his horrible life habits. They nag on Dan for her mother henning. They nag on Kevin for everything. It's fun, it's what families do. They all just pick on each other for fun.

It takes a little longer for them to feel comfortable nagging Andrew though, which, is understandable, but one of the first things they start picking on him for is his lack of communication in general. He NEVER talks. They just want him to participate sometimes.

Renee and Neil find this funny because Andrew talks A LOT just not around the foxes. He's not comfortable.

See, Andrew is fucking weird. Everyone knows this, but the foxes think he's weird in a “mysterious, murder you in your sleep, was totally the kid everyone thought was going to shoot up the school” kind of weird.

Andrew is not that kind of weird. He's a different breed entirely. He plans out how he'd survive the apocalypse, any of them. He is constantly fighting back the most wild intrusive thoughts. He is 24/7 existential crisis. His head is a wild fucking place.

But he is trying. Making progress. Trying to be more open and approachable, as Bee says. So he talks. Out Loud.

And the foxes hate him.

In the most monotonous voice ever

“Do you ever feel like your bones are dirty? Like, I could totally strip my meat suit and just give my ribs a good bleaching.”

“If that light fell out of the ceiling it would kill at least three of you and seriously injure the rest of us.”

“Nothing is stopping me from buying five ice cream flavors at once, but I'm learning self-control and Bee would be disappointed.”

“Currently having a manic episode. Should I A.) call Bee, tell her I'm not doing too great, and talk about my symptoms and how to best cope? B.) find the nearest mall and spend every dime I have in less than thirty minutes. Or C.) go apeshit and try to fight anyone and everyone who looks at me in a less-than-kind way. Children included.

*stage whisper* there's a secret fourth option but I'm saving it for later ;) (pronounced Semicolon left facing open parentheses. Yes he says this out loud)”

disappears for less than five minutes and comes back with three furrbies and a corndog, one that is obviously not from the mall's food court.

He's so fucking weird. Like, weirder than Neil, and it's awful (so good dude, the foxes eat it up)

And it's not the manic Andrew on meds. It's just Andrew. He's still Andrew. He's still quiet most of the time and he is still grumpy and apathetic, but he's also comfortable enoughto just blurt random shit out and have fun watching everyone figure out how to respond. He's found safety in his new family and he can openly be who he is without fear of judgment or rejection. He's happy in a way he's never felt nor ever thought he'd get to experience. He's just Andrew.

[reksink]

Beloved Residents of Dirtmouth (And Quirrel 👍)

[sanriokamabodo]

higschool!au hc where douma still calls akaza, lord akaza (to akaza's dismay) because of their d&d sessions.

like i just imagine you and akaza walking through the school hallways, hand in hand and douma spotting you guys and yelling:

"if it isn't lord akaza and lady y/n!" making you quirk an eyebrow at your boyfriend, who is red as a beet and seconds away from giving douma a smack upside the head.

"i don't– i don't know what he's talking about."

alternatively: akaza not being creative enough to make a d&d character so plays as hisself, as a paladin. (of course)

[000marie198]

I think Sonic characters should be allowed to be artists more often

...

Amy is already a painter, a culinary artist, and a chef. She also has a lovely aesthetic sense. I can also kinda see her collabing with Honey to design dresses and outfits. She also making screenplays & comics!

Cream compiling flower vases and bouquets and crowns.

Rouge having a knack for interior designing and makeup and blending in skills while still standing out.

Vector being a sound and music artist, composing remixes and mashups etc

Tails creates logos and graphic interfaces and has architectural designing skills

Knuckles being a damn good sculptor and being great at wood carving

Sonic secretly makes chaotic graffiti's and him doodling on random stuff and having a talent in music and singing and similar performative arts. Not to mention that swordsmanship is also an art just as much as it is a skill.

I think Shadow would enjoy learning crochet. He'd also kill at figure skating.

Espio setting up a meditation garden, Espio doing calligraphy, Espio doing poetry!

Charmy doodling cartoons and stickers.

I can definitely see Blaze doing fiery ballet. And other recreational arts.

And Silver with his awe-inspiring massive structures made using random scraps and debris

....

Let Sonic characters be artists

[yuukirita]

Two Bumblebees

Seen some people being a bit vexed that Bumblebee was in the Transformers One movie- because that made him old. And as a trope Bumblebee's often been described as being one of the youngest autobots- Even one of the youngest cybertronians to be forged before the fall of the planet. That might be fanon though i'm not sure.

I don't have a problem with it. I love Bee no matter the continuity. But it got me thinking.

To this I propose a solution: B-127 dies. The start of the war goes on and eventually Primus is like "Oh frag they need the yellow one" and pop him back out before he clocks out. And bam. Another B-127, fresh and young. Same spark.

It would be a pretty angsty Au. Because Bee freaking dies obviously. And Prime (and Elita and Megatron too tbh) has to deal with that.

Maybe it's what makes the war take a turn for the worst, who knows. Then millenia pass and they all see that fresh yellow bot with the SAME NAME appear and they have FEELINGS about it. (or maybe he's named after Bee or something, he becomes Prime's scout too)

Thought we know it's the same spark in both bots. They don't know that. Bee doesn't know that. Only Primus knows and he heckin ded brosquies.

Megatron rips out the voice box of this new young Bee because it reminds him of the last one. Optimus is even more of a dad to young Bee. Elita is still her very angry self and teaches bee how to fight in heels (probably) All the autobots and Decepticons feel like they're seeing a ghost and even tho they think they're not the same bot it's unfair old Bee's lookalike is the one that survived.

sssO many possibilities.

What we thinking? I kinda wanna maybe write that. BUT- I'm already writting DeceptiBee Au... Or I can bring this idea in the DeceptiBee Au... *holds gun to B-127 head*

[reidmania]

ethereal | s.reid

summary; spencer is in love with a girl who is in love with the world

warnings; fem reader, reader loves nature, spencer is so in love, they go camping, pretty much pure fluff tbh, i think 'angel' is used, reader is mentioned growing up going camping and being around nature, established relationships.

an; fluff. this is self indulgent bc all i want is to go camping. its really bad. i think i need it. i miss going every weekend. 1.4k words. Its one am and i felt the need to post this. goodnight my loves.

Spencer learnt very early on in your relationship that the love you had for the outdoors was very similar to the love he had for you.

Except, in an odd way – this small fact only made him love you more. You never shied away from the environment you were in; regardless of what environment it was. Whether it was on a (in his opinion) stupidly long hike on a way too hot day, the grin on your face remained the same as it did while watching the sunset on the beach on a warm summer night, when you opted on walking home at the end of the day with him rather than driving, the way you’d coo at babies, or smile at elderly people walking past. You were so intrigued by the world around you, Spencer was so intrigued with you. 

 You loved nature, you could name a flower on a walk quicker than he could, an animal hidden in the bushes; or you would ask him about whatever it was you needed to know that day, then listen curiously as he rambled about it. He had started reading more books about nature, just so when you asked, he had an answer.

Spencer loved you, more than words could ever explain. There was not a series of words in any language that could articulate the way he felt for you, and he had spent a lot of time looking for one. You loved nature. You embodied the beauty of it, and he loved you, just like you loved him. Spencer wasn’t the biggest fan of nature, not in the slightest. He could appreciate the beauty of the waterfall at the end of the hike, but in no way did he consider it worth the forty five minutes of uphill walking and the sweating. However, The smile on your face and the love in your eyes when you saw the waterfall at the end of the hike? Well that was worth it.

He had agreed to go camping with you. He had never been camping  before, but when you mumbled about how you really really wanted to go, and then rambled about how lately you couldn’t stop thinking about it – Spencer couldn’t say no, not when you subconsciously pouted at nothing when you remembered that you weren’t camping, instead in the middle of the city, curled up in a warm bed wrapped in his arms.

That's how he ended up in this position, camping out in the middle of nowhere. He had taken time off work for this, and he had yet to decide whether he loved or hated it. The greenery was easy to fall in love with, that, he understood. Large trees surrounding you everywhere, as if a barrier of different shades of deep greens to shield you away from the rest of the world.

You had picked a spot you knew well enough, oak trees surrounding, the ground covered in tall grass, bushes and flowers. Pinks and whites highlighted throughout the deep greens of the bushes. The ground where you had decided to set up the tent while the sun begun to set, flat, dirt.

He hated the fact that last night he was sleeping on an uncomfortable inflatable mattress, cold, listening to the rain pattern against the thin material of the tent, hyper aware of all the possible animals around. However, he loved the way you gasped in excitement when you saw bunnies running past in the warm orange light of the fire at night, or how you woke him up while it was still dark outside just because you wanted to watch the sunrise with him.

It was freezing, way too cold. Spencer knew a future with you, meant a future with more camping. He was okay with that, as long as next time it was not in the middle of winter. He had tugged the material of his sweater tighter around his body, hand gripping yours tightly seeking out the warmth you provided as you led him down a dirt road path. It was still dark outside, and after walking for a whole five minutes, still half asleep and groggy, Spencer began to question whether you actually knew where you were going.

“Angel” He murmured, tugging you closer by the grip he had on your hand, pausing his walking in the middle of the road. Not that it mattered, there were no cars around. There was nobody around. That, he liked. It was just you and him. Your footsteps stopped only moments after his, letting him pull you in closer as you turned your body so you were facing him. The only light, the setting moonlight.

You huffed a little, it made him smile sleepily. “Spence, we are gonna miss the sunrise if we stop” You argued, your hand squeezing around his. His heart warmed when you looked at him, slightly pleading him not to complain about this. He might of complained about a few things, the mud stuck to his shoes while trying to help you set up the tent, (Which you did most of anyways, after saying he would be better suited for glamping, which was less your style,) the bugs around that made him scratch at his arms, (Before you argued that if he had just used the bug repellent you suggest he wouldn’t have that issue) and the cold, when he complained about the cold you didn’t argue back, instead you’d just tug him closer to you.

So he complained about the cold a lot.

“Miss the sunrise? I- It's like three in the morning!” His voice went up an octave in complaint, yet full of fondness as he brought your intertwined hands to his chest, which meant you were closer. It was easier to see you when you were closer, also warmer. Maybe he just liked having you close.

You laughed, he found the sound so sweet it made his chest ache. “It's nearly five. The new moon is rising and it's getting lighter. We are almost there. I promise – Pinky promise, it will be worth it” You said, leaning up to press your lips against his cheek before tugging your intertwined hands together as you continued walking. Spencer couldn’t argue. Instead he trailed next to you. He was glad it wasn’t bright yet, in a strange way. You couldn’t see the way his smile widened when you swung your intertwined hands as you led him down the path.

He didn’t know how much longer the two of you were walking before. Long enough that the sky had lightened enough to make everything around you a bit more viewable, before he could find his voice to complain again, the shoreline came into view, over a set of sanded over wooden steps that looked like they would break any moment, however when you wordlessly walked down them, tugging him along with maybe the biggest smile he had ever seen on your face, well he followed despite the unease in his stomach.

They didn’t break. He silently thanked the above for that. If he had muttered his worry aloud, you would’ve told him you had walked down those steps a million other times, told him he worried too much then planted another kiss on his cheek. 

You trailed down the beach to a spot. The sand was almost perfectly white. When you stopped and shoved your feet into the sand, silently looking out over the waterline, where the sun had begun to rise over the horizon, watching as pretty shades of pinks and yellows shaped the sky. Spencer understood why you had decided against wearing shoes when leaving the campsite, despite his half asleep mutter about the dangers of it. 

This was your life, this was what you knew, this was what you loved.

“I love you” He spoke, breaking the carefully crafted silence of the beach. The tide was coming in, the only other noise being the waves crashing carefully. His gaze was fixated on you, while yours was on the sight in front of you. This was worth the early mornings, and freezing cold, the long walk and the worries about old wooden staircases.

Not because of the sight, but because of you, curled up in one of his knitted sweaters, despite the fact you had your own, probably warmer and much more suited for the cold weather of camping, you chose to wear his, holding on tightly to his hand. He knew you spent your childhood camping here, he knew everything he loved so dearly about you was created by the place you grew up, the place that made you, you. That was here. He loved you, and he loved it here – despite his complaints.

You turned your gaze away from the sunrise, turning to look over your shoulder. When your eyes met his, he was pretty sure the amount of love and affection in his heart was growing so much it was starting to cause him physical pain. He didn’t mind, not when you were looking at him. “I love you too.” You said, before tugging his hand to pull him to stand next to you. His hand dropped from yours, instead wrapping his arms tightly around your waist as he shifted to stand behind you. Your back to his chest, his chin on your shoulder. 

It was colder near the ocean, yet he was pretty sure he had never felt more warm.

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[hello-sweetheart]

Dog Groomer Eddie

Eddie who faces the facts that he needs a skill besides music to make money because he loves the band, loves playing, but man the pay is shit. And he’s a dog person, never been able to have a dog and his apartment doesn’t allow pets either so he tries his hand at dog grooming.

He’s actually like, really good at it. Works at a groomers for a couple of years, wins contest that rewards him with some cash and the notoriety needed to find an investor and start his own dog salon.

Fast forward, Steve is visits a dog groomer that was recommended to him by a friend called Metalhead Groomers. The place has metal playing from the speakers which is a weird choice, but it sticks true to the name. The guy at the front has the name tag ‘Jeff’ who has piercing and tattoos, large guy, very intimidating.

But the place looks clean, it has 5 stars, and when Jeff checks in Antoinette he’s actually super nice, like a gentle giant. So Steve’s like, “I don’t particularly care for a cut, you can do whatever.”

“Do you want the full package? It includes a bath, full hygiene routine, dye job, and a specialized cut.”

And steve does not process the ‘dye’ part and agrees.

So see, Eddie, and by extension Metalhead Groomers, is known for their really eccentric and creative work. It’s how Eddie won his first contest after all. And the best worst thing you can give an artist is full reign. But free rein of a standard poodle?? A dog groomers dream come true.

When Steve goes to pick up Antoinette, Eddie hands her over and…

Her ears are curled and dyed in pastel colors with bows and sparkles. Stands of hair above her eyes are streaked pink and look as if they’re some type of falsie lash. Her legs and tail have been dyed a pastel blue ombré. The rest of her body shaved down except for some plush detailed work of large light pink hearts on her sides and a detailed bow on her lower back . Her tail is fluffed and cut into the shape of a heart.

“What the fuck did you do??”

“Dude, you asked for the full package and said ‘do whatever you want’ so… tada! I took some inspiration from her name, but this is kinda mild compared to my other work tbh.”

It takes Eddie explaining that that it’s pet safe dye, she wasn’t hurt, and actually enjoyed all the attention she received for Steve to calm down.

Fast forward a week and Steve comes back into the shop to apologize for blowing up on Eddie. Turns out Antoinette (Nettie for short) is a service dog and her look actually helps people be more aware of her. Steve also feels safer that she’s more identified cuz apparently there’s actually people that steal service animals?? Eddie was not aware of that. Plus, Steve works with young kids and they love Nettie’s look, it makes them more comfortable and engage more.