#but i know i don't like eclairs

[krussyarts]

@bouberi here's your Yuri

That I drew on literally no sleep, zoned out for 8 hours. Gonna sleep now

[captainsaltypear]

I know I always say that I'd fist fight markiplier if I were to ever meet him but let's be real if I met him irl and he knows that I'm the one who made the ask the invincible crew comics I'd cry and crumble to the floor

[hcguesstheauthormessageboard]

Writer’s Log 6-3-23

Éclairs are just chocolate hotdogs.

(Tell me your reaction)

.

[brainddeadd]

Accidentally calling your boyfriend "husband"

Quinn Hughes x fem!reader

Fluff

Wandering around Vancouver with Quinn, you both decide to duck into a café for something warm while the rain beats down on the ground outside.

He leads you over to the counter, eyes scouring the menu, but you already know what you're getting.

"Hi, could I please get one large hot chocolate for myself and a large cappuccino for my husband?" You don't even realise you've said it, but Quinn does. He turns to you, eyes wide, jaw falling open slightly, before his face softens and a smile creeps onto his features.

"Sure, anything else?" The girl behind the counter questions, her eyes darting back and forth between the two of you.

"Two chocolate eclairs for my wife and I, please." Quinn adds, and it's your turn to look at him wide-eyed. The cashier nods, and Quinn pays, leading you over to the table in the back of the café, his hands taking yours in his as you sit across from him.

"Wife?" You question, voice soft and shy, a blush coating your cheeks in a way that makes Quinn want to die.

"You started it," he mumbles. "Callin me husband as if my heart won't beat out of my chest."

"I didn't.." You trail off as you run through what you'd said at the counter, your blush intensifying as you realise that you did, in fact, call Quinn, your husband. "I'm sorry."

Quinns heart constrcts at how you sound, almost as if you feel guilty, like you've said something you shouldn't.

"What for?" His fingers tangle with yours. "It's going to be true one day."

Eyes darting to his, your jaw goes slack, and he chuckles slightly, fingers gently pressing your chin closed.

"I love you, and I want to spend the rest of my life with you," he shrugs, as if he didn't just make a life changing, world altering declaration. "Besides, my family would kill me if I let you slip away."

[bunny-jpeg]

Hi bunny! I’m so sorry I didn’t know the request were closed, I think I sent this before 😣 but if they’re open now, can I order a spicy upside down cake with some eclairs and tea with Toto (with Horner reader) pls pls

the menu!

want to submit your own? hit up the menu! i'd love to accept your order! thank you for this lovely prompt anon! i love the inclusion of horner's daughter. wow! always a good trope! i hope i served you well!

spicy upside down cake ("let's play a game: don't get caught.") + eclairs ("the family's precious little girl. under me like a slut.") + tea (semi-public/public sex) served by toto wolff (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, semi-public sex, power dynamic, desk/office sex, clothed sex, slight daddy kink, getting caught

"how do i say this as nicely as possible." george said as he brought kimi around the mercedes paddock. his hands in his jean pockets as he looked around to see if anyone is in earshot, "every rumor from formula one is basically untrue. or partially untrue.., except for one."

the young driver's interest was piqued. was he finally getting all the gossip from the grid? he leaned in a little forward and waited for what his new teammate had to say.

"toto wolff has a secret girlfriend... and she's horner's daughter. basically everyone knows, but no one will admit it. especially not to horner himself. just be careful, she's quite the looker." then slapped the young driver on the back as they continued.

you could have had any man you desired. you had the looks, the money, there was a kindness to you that pulled people in. you weren't some spoiled princess, you had a heart of gold in a sea of people out for metaphorical blood. you drew people in, like the likes of toto wolff.

a gentleman old enough to be your father, but still made love to you like he was in his twenties. the scandal on the paddock, but with little reliable evidence your father often turned a blind eye to it. even though he noticed as you got older and hung around the paddock, the skirts you wore got shorter and shorter.

your poor father didn't want to be thinking about you with a man double your age and the unsavory things he had done to you. so for horner's sanity, his head was in the sand.

so it wouldn't be a bad thing if you ended up in toto's office for the weekend. with the older man picking you up and placing you on top of the sturdy desk. your thighs spread open for your lover.

"you look beautiful, schatzi." his voice was low and his broad hands pushed up your skirt. it was a flirty little number that turned a lot of heads. you didn't mind the attention because you only had eyes for toto, "so good for daddy."

you wrapped your arms around his neck and giggled, "which one?"

he made a face, "you are a dirty girl. if horner knew what you did to me almost every night, he'd be dead on the spot. his precious daughter fucking an older man."

you held onto his shoulders and beamed at him, "gotta fix my daddy issues somehow." then lifted your hips a little to let toto get your pretty purple panties off. they soon hung limp around your left ankle.

he pressed his nose against your neck and took in your scent. you were wearing the perfume that he bought for you. he knew prior to his relationship with you, you got a few eyes on you. but most knew in the paddock now, especially when toto and your father lingered like a shadow. a cute cub with the much bigger, much scarier polar bear behind her. you were soft smiles and thick thighs that squished together. but you wore the horner last name on paper and the wolff last name on a little anklet chain.

"oh you have daddy issues?" he mocked, "i would have never guessed. the family's precious little girl. under me like a slut." his lips found your neck and he trailed kisses onto it. during the break in the season he'll sink his teeth in. but for now, he'd have to be good and not mark up horner's daughter. (as much as it killed him).

regardless he was hard in his slacks and with your slick pussy on display for him. he wondered if you'd get his last name tattoos on your hip for only his eyes. but that seemed less permanent than just simply marrying you and changing your last name.

he ran a finger across your cheek before he said, "let's play a game: don't get caught." in reference to you not being so loud. poor thing had a habit of being loud even when you were in public.

you squirmed a little on the desk, your bare ass against it. you leaned back a little on your hands and said, "but how will everyone know you're fucking me so good?"

he chuckled a little, "they don't need to know." he kissed at your neck once more before he started to undo his belt, "i'd hate to gag you, my love."

you giggled but quickly covered your mouth with your hand as you tried to keep quiet. toto was in your space once more, your legs wrapped around his waist and he rubbed his cock up against your pussy before he sank in to the root.

he held onto your hips and pulled you closer to him. you took all over him as he started to move against you. your panties almost hit the floor as he took your hand away from your mouth and sealed your mouth with a kiss. the kisses were the loudest part between the two of you as the two of you moved together on the desk.

while toto usually liked to undress you piece by piece like a finely wrapped present. to him, being with you was like christmas every day. especially when he was fucking you. but at that moment, the two of you had to be quick.

he moved against you and kept his lips against yours. his thrusts were heavy as he battered against your sweet sex. you two had to be as quiet as you could get. his hands gripped onto your hips as he pressed his cock up against you.

he lips trailed down your neck as he fucked you, his breathing was heavy and his face slightly flushed. he could feel the thump of pleasure in the back of his head. oh, you felt amazing to him.

he understood why horner made sure to keep you out of the paddock once you became an adult. he held onto you tighter, his voice low as he said, "so beautiful. and all for me." he smiled at you as he moved against you. feeling your sweet cunt tighten around him.

his teeth carefully grazed your pulse and your back arched a little more. your pretty clothed breasts up against him. a sight to behold. even while clothed your body called to him.

the two of you were lost in the euphoria of your fucking, that you didn't hear the knock at the office door followed by the opening of said door.

"mister wolff, i-" kimi stopped in in his tracks and found his head principal and horner's daugther having sex on top of the desk. his eyes went wide. george was right, the rumours were true. he stepped back before he was out the door with it closed behind him.

toto wolff and planted both of his strong hands on either side of you, "i'm going to have to talk to him." his voice was heavy, but he had yet to take his cock out of you. if anything it felt like it had grown harder.

you took your lover by the face and kissed him, "not before you make me cum first." as you clenched your thighs around his waist.

he chuckled before he took your face and pulled you in for a kiss, "of course, schatzi." <3

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

To clarify,I don't believe in porn makes you evil and I don't believe in like fantasies are evil. I'm pulling this quote off Scarleteen "“If we aren’t both careful and creative we can get stuck in fantasies that don’t mature and politicize with us."" I'm also new to being about to vote, so I'm trying to be careful about what I consume and what stereotypes media perpetuate. Like I'm not moralizing about kink or anything, and my ask was how can I get aroused with media wo my kinks or wo media

hi anon, welcome back! I'm genuinely very glad to hear some follow up.

for anybody who doesn't stay vigorously up to date with all of my anons, this ask is a continuation of this one.

so I went and checked out the Scarleteen articles you mentioned in your first message, or at least I tried to. How to Approach Sexual Fantasies and Desire on Your Own Terms is here, and while I couldn't find anything with the exact title 50 Shades of Abuse, we do have 50 Shades of BS - How to Tell the Difference Between Kink and Abuse as well as 50 Shades Crappier: On Selling Abuse for Valentine's Day, both of which cover how the 50 Shades series isn't a great model of real, responsibly-practiced BDSM.

now, here's what I didn't see in any of these articles: an assertion that anybody needs to, as you've decided to do, avoid any work that depicts anything less than perfectly healthy sexual practices.

the closest we get to that is the quote by adrienne maree brown from How to Approach Sexual Fantasies, which you mention above. now, here's the thing: first of all, I actually disagree pretty substantially with brown's assertions that one's sexual fantasies need to "politicize." I know what my politics are; the fiction that I enjoy can't change that, because I don't have the moral backbone of a chocolate eclair. I actually just talked about that earlier today in another ask.

(also, and this may be an unpopular opinion, but adrienne maree brown is kind of a dork who doesn't really say much of anything in Pleasure Activism that Audre Lorde didn't already say better and more succinctly, and I personally lost interest in Pleasure Activism pretty much the moment she casually dropped that she practices reiki healing because that's a pseudoscientific alternative medicine that doesn't do shit or fuck. but I digress.)

listen, I'm not trying to peer pressure or bully you into watching anything you don't want to watch. your porn consumption is up to you. but what you're doing here is absolutely moralizing, I think maybe because of an underlying assumption that media that involves sex is just, like, innately different than any other type of media, which is in itself an idea that stems from sex negativity!

I don't know, let's just try to play out a little thought exercise here. like, would you consider it reasonable if somebody told you that they've decided not to read or watch anything that depicts problematic behavior because they don't want to normalize it. like, first of all, they're never watching anything but Bluey again. except actually not even Bluey because I just remembered about Bluey in the genocide, which actually makes for a great illustration of how nonsensical and impossible it is to try to only engage with media that is 100% ideologically pure.

and again: that's fine! that's literally fine! it is 100% okay to watch or read or play things with morals that don't totally 100% align with yours. it's okay to enjoy them, even. it's a lot healthier than trying to avoid upsetting or incongruous things entirely, because that gives you the chance to actually think about it rather than trying to shut it out entirely! that article actually provides an entire list of questions you can run through with yourself to critically analyze the things you watch if you feel so inclined! that's a much better skill to practice than avoidance!

I get that when you're new to sex, as you said in the previous ask, this might seem daunting, but your brain isn't just a sponge that will uncritically soak up and adopt anything you expose it to. you very clearly have the ability to research, differentiate between fiction and real life, and form your own opinions! and it is absolutely fine if you want to just watch porn with your kinks!

like, listen, I see what the question is, and the easiest answer is just. do whatever gets you off.

[sincerely-sofie]

Many thanks for the tag @asimplearchivist! The post was getting a bit long, so I cleared the reblogs.

coffee or tea (hot chocolate for me!) | early bird or night owl | chocolate or vanilla | spring or fall | silver or gold (brass) | pop or alternative (I just like what I like, haha!) | freckles or dimples | snakes or sharks | mountains or fields | thunder or lightning | egyptian mythology or greek mythology | ivory or scarlet | flute or lyre | opal or diamond | butterflies or honeybees I macarons or eclairs l typewritten or handwritten | secret garden or secret library | rooftop or balcony (I'm scared of heights lol) | spicy or mild | opera or ballet | london or paris (Homebody) | vincent van gogh or claude monet | denim or leather | potions or spells | ocean or desert | mermaids or sirens I masquerade ball or cocktail party

some tags of my own: @oblonger, @aria-the-derg, @battyaalllday, @onlyhereforghosttrick, @billycorn, and @stingraywipe along with all you shy guys who would love to join in!

Thanks for the tag @steven-grants-world (we won't go into how giddy I get when I'm tagged in something!)

This or that…

coffee or tea (neither!) | early bird or night owl | chocolate or vanilla | spring or fall | silver or gold | pop or alternative | freckles or dimples | snakes or sharks | mountains or fields | thunder or lightning | egyptian mythology or greek mythology | ivory or scarlet | flute or lyre | opal or diamond | butterflies or honeybees I macarons or eclairs l typewritten or handwritten | secret garden or secret library | rooftop or balcony | spicy or mild | opera or ballet | london or paris | vincent van gogh or claude monet | denim or leather | potions or spells | ocean or desert | mermaids or sirens I masquerade ball or cocktail party

no pressure tags: @marieziffer, @jewelsrulz, @diplomaticprincess, @wrenwithapen, @witch-oftheflowers, @lunar-ghoulie, @coneygoil, and anyone else who wants to because I hate forgetting people! Do it!

[paleprincessturtle]

Could you write a Harvey x reader being in a secret relationship because she's Mike's younger sister? Maybe she works at the firm as a paralegal or just likes to swing by to annoy her older brother from time to time.

Hey! Thanks for the request anon. Hopefully, I can capture your vision in my writings.

Feel free to send more requests.

Enjoy!

Bagels

Pairing: Harvey Specter x Female Reader

If anyone is more important to Mike Ross than Rachel Zane, right now breathing on the face of the earth, it will be his sister. His baby sister. After the death of their parents, Mike always vowed to protect his sister. That was why Mike took it without hesitation when he got the chance to do an (almost) honest job with the firm. Mike admitted that maybe he got way too protective over her sister. She's 5 years younger than her, certainly an adult now. But in his eyes, she'll always be the little girl with teary eyes asking for their dead parents.

Unlike Mike, his sister wasn't gifted with a super brain. But she was gifted with super hands. She never took any culinary schools or any baking courses but she could bake anything and would taste heavenly. 6 months after his time at the firm, Mike could finally afford to help his sister build her own bakery. Conveniently, only around 15 minutes from the firm. Give or take.

When Jessica found out about Mike, his sister was the first person he confided in. They were pretty much sure that Mike would just be a cashier at her bakery. But when Jessica let it slide, his sister met with Jessica. Dressed as best as she could, she came to the office, asking for a Jessica Pearson. She wasn't there empty-handed, she brought with her a dozen eclairs and quiche. She didn't know whether Jessica was a sweet or a savory person, so she brought one for each possibility. Jessica wasn't necessarily happy when she saw her come into her office. But Jessica has seen tons of people, and she knew when one is genuine. So Jessica thanked her and upon tasting her baked goods, Jessica had an idea for her to take several of her products from her bakery every morning to the firm. Boy, was everyone happy when they saw fresh baked goods in the lounge.

That day was also the first time Harvey Specter laid eyes on Mike Ross' sister.

It was just like any other morning, Mike was sitting in his office when her sister came and threw a pebble to his head. "Bullseye!" she giggled and entered his office. Mike rubbed his forehead. "If I bleed, I'll sue you for violence." Mike leaned back in his chair as he observed his sister. "And I'll scream in the lobby that you're a..." she paused then took a deep breath, "FRAAAAUD!!!" Mike stood so fast from his chair about to catch his sister but she ran away and laughed.

She finally finished dropping everything in both lounges. But she made it a ritual to always drop some extras for everyone who know the truth about Mike. She dropped some in Jessica's office, Louis' office, now off to Donna, then Harvey's.

"Donna, you looked exceptionally gorgeous today. Is that a new dress?" she leaned over as she placed a small jar of pistachio cookies on her desk. Donna smirked and nodded towards Harvey's office, "he won't have any meeting for another hour. And Mike shouldn't be around too." She leaned even more forward to give Donna a kiss on the cheek. Donna also leaned forward to meet her halfway and let her kiss her cheek. She smiled and marched inside. "Sunshine," Harvey greeted her with a wide grin. He stood up from his chair and kissed her lips. "Hello, Mr. Handsome," she looked up at him as she admired his clean-shaven face. She turned her back and walked to take another small basket she brought with her. "Everyone got pistachio cookies today, but I made you bagels." Harvey's eyes got as big as the moon. "Aren't you the best. Now, I don't have to spend any lunch money."

Mike walked briskly towards Harvey's office with a stack of files. His findings were brilliant, he thought to himself. As he got closer to Harvey's office, he heard a muffled laugh. Not just any muffled laugh, his sister's muffled laugh. He glanced at Donna's desk and found it empty. So he invited himself in.

"Well, aren't you two cozy," Mike asked in a thick sarcastic tone. Harvey who was trying to take one of his signed basketballs back for Mike's sister stopped laughing and turned to see the intruder in his office. She also looked at where Harvey looking at. "Mike, catch!" she threw one of Harvey's PRECIOUS signed basketballs toward Mike. Mike dropped every file in his hands to catch the basketballs. Harvey smirked, while his sister almost exploded from laughing. What was on Mike's mind wasn't the now important files on the floor, which created a mess. But the fact that Harvey didn't even get mad when she touched one of his precious basketballs. Not only did she touch it, she threw it. Mike looked bewildered between the two important people in front of him right now. Ball still firmly in hands, he looked around. He saw no little jar filled with cookies. He found a little basket instead, filled with bagels and various spreads. Home-made spreads. Mike calmed himself as he walked and put the ball on its throne. "Bagels for Harvey? You know he likes bagels?" Mike pointedly looked at his sister, arms folded. "Who doesn't know what Harvey likes?" she tried to laugh it off. "Nice spending times with you guys, but not only you guys who have an empire to run, but so do I. Ciao!" She was about to go when Mike called out for her. "Sit," Mike ordered her. All these years being his sister, it was the first time she ever heard him using that tone on her. She obeyed. He observed the two of them. Harvey looked calm, much in contrast to his sister who looked like she was about to get busted for bringing a ton of cocaine. "You two are together?" Mike questioned. No one answered. "You two are together!" Mike gasped. "I thought she always brought you different things from her bakery because she ran out and had to give you leftovers. She always gave you your favorites. And you didn't get pissed at her touching your basketballs! Because you like her!" She was confused about what to do. Mike looked like he was about to lunge at Harvey but looked very much bamboozled. "Look," Harvey said as he walked past Mike to sit beside her. "We've been together, for the past 4 months." Another gasp from Mike. Harvey took her hand in his, waited for Mike's reaction. "Of all girls you could have.. It has to be my sister.." Mike said slowly. He looked at you, asked for an explanation. "He made me so happy, Mike. Really happy." Mike softened at his sister's response. When Mike looked at Harvey, he caught Harvey smiling down at his sister. It looked, genuine. As if he... "I'm not happy that you two kept it from me for months but I'm happy you two are happy, but," Mike stood in front of her and offered her his hand. "I need to talk to you," Mike said all serious. She nodded and squeezed Harvey's hand before she stood up. "And I have to talk to you after this," Mike said as he pointed his finger at Harvey. Harvey nodded, stood up, and patted Mike on the shoulder, before walking back to his desk. "Come," Mike rushed her outside. But before she left Harvey's office, she looked back at him and smiled. Harvey winked at her and she giggled. "DON'T WINK AT MY SISTER HARVEY!" Mike said without even looking as he rushed you out even more.

MASTERLIST

[burningcheese-merchant]

You have fully covered me into a burningcheese fan. I absolutely love how you write these ships with them!

But one question if burningcheese ever decided to have a wedding, what do you think it looked like and play out?

*inhales deeply* MY FRIEND! MY GUY! I'M FOUR PARALLEL UNIVERSES AHEAD OF YOU! (also, welcome to the cult and thank you so much for your support! I'm happy to bring people joy with my stories!)

I'll just give a few bullet points, because a) I have a lot of thoughts, and b) I haven't finished planning their wedding in full lol

Biggest. Wedding. Ever. Not exaggerating at all. It would be the biggest, most grand and beautiful wedding in the history of the world. Eclair will be there and he won't even be fully enjoying himself; he'll be too busy taking notes on EVERYTHING he sees, because it's such a fascinating culture mix/clash, there are so many guests (many of which are important figures), there are so many unique traditions and rituals and artifacts on display and and and... This isn't even his field of study, but he would absolutely be remiss to NOT document the wedding extensively, if only to pass it along to colleagues that actually specialize in cultural history (and help author some textbooks lol)

As said above, a big, fun culture clash. Members from both of their kingdoms worked together and went above and beyond to blend Egyptian Golden Cheese Kingdom aesthetics and with Indian Wild Spice aesthetics to create something traditional, yet brand new and exciting. Who would've thought they would work so well together? (You can say the same thing about the bride and groom tbh lol)

Our lovely couple's outfits would have bits and pieces from each other's cultures as a respectful homage to one another (and to show that they will be unifying their peoples through their marriage). Golden Cheese will dress mostly in her own traditional style, but with a good handful of pretty, tasteful Wild Spice accessories to accentuate her look. Same with Burning Spice; traditional Wild Spice wedding clothes, but with a touch of GCK to honor his wife

Also, they would both have matching henna (or mehndi, as they're actually called in India) tattoos. Very elaborate and beautiful, done by Wild Spice artists. (Henna/mehndi are mostly for women/brides, but from what I understand, men/grooms can get them too. I want to do this because I LOVE the idea of GC and BS having matching tattoos/makeup)

Everyone is invited. Literally everyone. They don't even have to know you. Just show up and have a good time (and be in awe of their love and devotion lol). It's very common for Indian weddings to be big ragers with many, many, MANY guests, and I thought that would suit a BurningCheese wedding too (especially for GC, she honestly probably would want EVERYONE to show up, both to show off and because she genuinely wants to share her joy with others)

Wedding party(ies) is their closest homies. The other Ancients plus the Cheese Gang (Smoked Cheese, Burnt Cheese and Mozzarella) for GC, a handful of his best subordinates for BS (Nutmeg Tiger, Saffron Buffalo, Pepper Pangolin, maybe Cilantro Cobra too).

Burning Spice thought of having Pitaya Dragon as a best man equivalent of some sort because they're Crime Besties (in my headcanon lol) but Hollyberry walked him through why that's a terrible idea and just left Pitaya as a regular guest

Wedding lasts a whole week, the main ceremony plus other rituals and a whole lot of dancing and drinking and laughing and having a blast together and with their loved ones

A+++ food, both GCK dishes and Wild Spice dishes, plus an assortment of delicacies from other lands (there's food from the Dark Cacao Kingdom, Faeriewood, the Creme Republic, etc). Hollyberry came in clutch and provided most of the booze (her kingdom has the god-tier alcohol, it was a welcome choice)

You can rest assured that they enjoyed their wedding night very, very much lol. Especially because there were technically seven of them. (One of Mozzarella's wedding gifts to them was soundproofing GC's bedroom no strings attached. She Knew™️. She's a girl's girl lol)

I'll stop there for everyone's sake, but TL;DR: it's a enormous, gorgeous event that perfectly encapsulates and celebrates their love. (And I envision this as part of Burning Spice's redemption arc, so it's like the reward at the end of a long, arduous journey. The breathtaking sunrise waiting at the mountain summit.) And they live happily ever after and have a family in the future, but I'm not spoiling that for any of you just yet :)

[chaoticace2005]

Hazbin Hotel characters as John Mulaney quotes part 4:

(Part 1 2 3)

Vaggie: I am very small and I have no money. So you can imagine the kind of stress that I am under.

Husk: I could never dress goth, and don't get me wrong; I'm unhappy. It's not that. It's just that if you're a goth person, every single day you have to put on like, new makeup, and nail polish, and Satan stars. Like I bet you part of the reason goths are so miserable is they wake up every morning and think, "Oh god, I gotta put all that shit back on. Why did I join?"

About Adam: He was kind of moving around the whole time, you know he was like: “Alright! I am too blessed to be stressed! Let’s do it. What are you allergic to? Besides work!”

About Vox: But sometimes he would be gay.

Alastor: I’ll take your advice friend I’ve never listened to before.

Angel: People always ask us… are you gonna have kids. And we say “No.” And then they go “never?! You’re never gonna have kids?” Look I don’t know never. 14 years ago I smoked cocaine before my college graduation. Now I’m scared to get a flu shot. People change.

Lucifer: They go, “No! In fact we’re gonna frame you for murder! And you’re gonna go to jail for 30 years!” And I go, “Why are you doing this to me?!”And they go, “Because we’re Delta Airlines, and life is a fucking nightmare.”

Niffty: And without looking up at me my dad just said, “You have the moral backbone of a chocolate eclair.”

[munson-blurbs]

Bug❤️ let me tell you that your idea meet-cute idea is absolutely great, and I was wondering if I can request one with Eddie?

My pronouns are she/her, I would describe myself as shy and quiet, very weird who lives in her own world most of the time (especially around people I don't know very well) but also very stubborn. I love to read Stephen King books, watch TV shows and then overanalyze them and every detail, I love working with colors but also going out to walk, especially at the parks where you can meet some cute ducks. I also really love dogs and cats too.

I would also say that it can be very difficult for me to make friends irl and not much into pda, but with the right person, everything become more easy.

Not sure if what I wrote is good and gave you all you needed, but anyway, thank you for this ❤️

You meet while reading at the park!

CW: I guess some spoilers for 'Salem's Lot, but that's pretty much it WC: 657 Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

There’s no better way to spend a springtime Saturday afternoon in Hawkins than reading by the pond. 

A cool breeze rippled the pages of your book. It wasn’t your first time reading ‘Salem’s Lot, and it probably won’t be your last. With each reread, you noticed different details about Ben Mears’ time hunting down the vampires that have taken over the small town. 

Easing back into the bench, you let Hawkins fade into the background and immersed yourself in the story. What would you do if an evil entity took over your home? Would you fight it off? Would you even recognize that it was, in fact, evil? Or would you be just as clueless as the fictional residents of Jerusalem’s Lot?

You barely had time to ponder your potential fate before a frantic voice cut into your thoughts. 

“Hey! Reginald, wait your turn!”

Your attention slid right to the man sitting cross-legged in front of the pond, a box of crackers in his lap. Three ducklings surrounded him, one shoving himself in front of the others to get the first nibble. 

The man shook his long curls out of his face. “Seriously, dude, you’re being a dick.” He crumbled a cracker in his palm and held it out to the other two ducklings. “Now you’re gonna go last. How do you like that?”

You giggled, and it must’ve been louder than you’d intended, because the guy whipped his head around for a moment to look at you. He was…beautiful. You lost yourself in his eyes for a moment, then in the smile that appeared at the sound of your laughter. 

A third beak pecked at his palm, bringing him back to the task at hand, and he groaned. “Dammit, Reginald!” Resigned, he crumbled up another cracker and let the ducklings eat it. 

Placing a bookmark between the pages, you timidly made your way over to the patch of grass where he sat. “Did you just call that duckling Reginald?” You asked, not hiding the amusement in your tone. 

The man nodded. “Mhm. Named him that myself,” he said proudly. 

“Why ‘Reginald’?”

“Because,” he grinned, “he has that little mark on his neck that looks like a bowtie. Very distinguished. So he needed a name to match.”

You tucked your lips into your mouth to avoid bursting into laughter. “I see,” you managed. “Do the others have names, too?”

“Of course!” He almost sounded offended, like you were inferring some kind of neglect on his part. “The smaller one is Eclair, because she tried to steal an eclair from me the first time we met. And the bigger one is Cujo.”

Your eyes widened and lit up. “Like from the Stephen King book?”

“The one and only.” He grinned proudly. “Though this guy is more of a gentle giant than a rabid, carnivorous monster.” He cocked his head to the side. “And what about you?”

“Hm?”

“Your name. Mine’s Eddie, by the way.”

You introduced yourself, feeling your heart flutter when he repeated your name back to you. It sounded perfect when he said it. Gesturing to the box of crackers, you asked, “can I feed them one?”

“Absolutely.” Eddie narrowed his eyes pensively. “Just don’t fall for any of Reginald’s bullshit. If you do, he’ll walk all over you. Trust me.”

There was an electric spark when your fingertips brushed his as he handed you a cracker. Did he feel that, too?

Meanwhile, Reginald quacked his frustration that you hadn’t yet offered him anything to eat. 

Eddie nudged the overzealous baby bird out of the way. “Hey, you need to be respectful of the cute girl.” He shook his head in mock frustration. “I’m sorry. We’re still working on our manners.”

“I see.” You watched as Eddie corralled the ducklings as best as he could. “Well, I’m happy to help.”

With a shy smile, he watched you feed the crumbs to the ducklings. 

“We’re happy, too.”

--

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

❤️Valentine - Charles Leclerc

 'It don't matter be combative or be sweet cherry pie, it don't matter just as long as I get all you tonight'

<word count - 1317>

Valentines day. The one day a year that all couples were supposed to get along, and act like they were totally, unbelievably, undeniably in love. Throwing around the balloons, teddy bears and the chocolate eclairs around like they meant nothing, because they didn't. 

What really meant something was the real love. The real love that proper couples shared on a day to day basis. That was why Valentines day wasn't really for you and Charles. You loved each other whether it was the 14th of February or not. 

You didn't need one specified day a year to love each other with your heart and soul. Therefore, neither of you were really a fan of Valentines. You both felt it was a cheap shot at what love was supposed to be. It wasn't all chocolates and roses, it wasn't all hearts and cupid's arrows. 

But just because it wasn't that, didn't mean it wasn't a wonderful thing that was meant to be cherished. You didn't need cards with acrostic poems or sonnets to know that you loved each other, so you never really bothered with Valentines. 

This year, though, you had suggested that the two of you go out for dinner. It wasn't for any special reason, you just wanted to since you hadn't been out for dinner together in a little while. Plus, restaurants tended to be a lot nicer on Valentines Day, so it was an added incentive. 

Charles had agreed without a second thought, thinking it would be nine to go out for dinner with you. To be honest, he didn't really care where you were, as long as he got to spend time with you. He could take you out, or you could kill some time, stay home. 

As long as you were together, he didn't care in the slightest. You had just finished putting your heels on, ready to go for your dinner reservation at seven. Both of you had agreed to get all dressed up, just for the novelty of it. 

"Ready to go?" you asked, walking out of your bedroom as you shrugged your coat onto your shoulders. As per usual, Charles was looking handsome as ever in his suit, a single red rose in his hand. "That for me or your side chick?" you laughed. 

"Only for you, mon amour. Although, it was a tough choice," he quipped back, tucking the rose behind your ear. "And you look absolutely breathtaking," he complimented, looking you up and down. Of course, he always thought you were the prettiest thing to ever set foot on the earth, but he'd be lying if he said he didn't like it when you put in some extra effort. 

Looking at you, dinner wasn't looking so appealing right now. He wanted to skip straight to the dessert. 

"And you're looking rather dapper, my love," you smiled, tugging him in by his lapels for a quick kiss before starting to walk towards your front door. That was enough for him to definitely rule going to dinner as an option for tonight. 

There were others on the table, well, you were the only option on the table. It didn't have to be a table, it could've been anywhere in the house, but that wasn't the point. He wanted you, and he wanted you now. "You coming?" you asked, turning to look at him as he was rooted to the spot. 

Within a split second, he has rushed up to you and pinned you against the door with his body. "No, I don't think I want to," he smirked, crashing his lips down onto yours. It was easy to feel how much he wanted to keep you at home, but you still wanted to go to dinner. 

"Charles, hey, come on," you said, pulling away from the kiss. The devilish smirk that was dancing on his lips told you that you were in for it, but that had never necessarily been a bad thing. 

"What?" he said innocently, as if he were completely oblivious as to where you were supposed to be going. 

"Love, I want dinner, I'm hungry," you told him, batting your eyelashes at him. 

"Why would I need dinner when I've got a twelve course banquet standing right in front of me?" he asked as if it were a serious question. He couldn't resist kissing you again, pushing your body harder against the door with his own. 

"Please, mon amour," he whined with a pout, staring deep into your eyes. They could make you melt into a puddle of nothing on the floor with a single glance, and he was very hard to resist. He'd normally do whatever you asked of him, and the same went for you, but not tonight. 

"Darling come on, let's go," you dismissed, pushing him away with a gentle nudge, before slipping out of the door. 

"Do I have to get on me knees and beg you to forget about dinner? Because I will," he said, leaning against the doorframe as you walked down the corridor of your apartment complex. His statement had taken you off guard, if you were being honest. 

"Don't do that, let's go," you repeated, looking at him with your arms crossed in defiance. 

"I know that face. You want to cave in, but you're just doing this to prove a point. You don't have to prove anything to me, my love. Now, come back here and let me show you how much I love you," he stated, extending his hand out to you. 

For a moment, you just looked at him. You hated how well he knew you, but it also made you squirm slightly. He knew he'd get you at some point in the night, but he was growing more and more impatient as the time went by. 

"How much you love me, huh?" you said with a cocky smirk, trying to hide your crumbling resolve. 

"Yeah, get your ass over here and I'll show you," he reiterated with a charming wink. 

You took one small step towards him, and that was enough for him to grab your arm and tug you back into the apartment. "See? That wasn't so hard, was it? You can be a good girl when you want to," he snickered.

"Charles, really?" you groaned, trying to bite back an embarrassed giggle as your cheeks turned red. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you as close to him as he could before slowly walking you through the apartment and towards your bedroom. 

"What, mon amour?" he grinned, softly kissing you. He loved how easy it was to make you blush, and it was honestly his favourite pastime. You were nearly red as the rose tucked behind your ear as you spoke.

"You're a dick sometimes," you rolled your eyes at him.

"But you love me," he stated, since it was a fact. Yes, you loved him, even when he tried to push your buttons. If anything, that made you love him more. 

"It's a good job I do," you confirmed as your back came into contact with your bedroom door. 

"And I fall more in love every day, my Valentine," he said, taking one hand off you to open the door and gently nudge you inside. "Now how about less talking and more showing?" he asked, but the question was fully rhetorical. 

Closing the door behind him, Charles pushed you down onto the bed and loomed over you. "More showing sounds like a great idea," you agreed, pulling him in by his lapels again to kiss him.   

"Good girl," he praised, before getting lost in the kiss. Valentines was all about expressing your love, and the two of you certainly didn't need dinner for that. Not when you had each other. 

A/N - Happy valentines day my loves! Whether you're spending today with a special someone or not, I hope you've had a wonderful day and love you loads! I'm sat here, with a nice glass of rhubarb and raspberry tonic, enjoying a cozy night in with a box of chocolates my dad bought for me, what about you?

This is based off of Valentine by 5SOS, and it's such a bop. Keep a look out for Lando's Valentines Special, which is all done and ready to go in an hour or two!

|masterlist|

[angstigone]

WARNINGS: manga spoilers, angst related to such spoilers, she/her - afab character (she's called 'miss').

ten years have passed when you meet again the love of your life.

the birthday cake for denji is an afterthought when you are faced with the many beauties laid and exposed on the window of the bakery that you have been suggested by yoshida to visit after having received the task of ordering the cake for the birthday boy.

ten years had meant much - and an apocalypse avoided - and albeit devils still needed hunting and chainsaw man couldn't yet rest, there was a sense of peace that makes birthdays almost... good.

you are all trying to do better and task isn't excessive, especially when you are already on your way to work.

especially with the various beauties exposed as you think about sneaking a pastry with your coffee.

still, with the focus on the pastries, you don't notice the man adjusting them till it's too late to avoid awkward eye contact.

the situation is already awkward with you making bedroom eyes to a specific eclair, but the familiar features are what sold you.

dark blue hair and eyes of a shade that was just lighter although troubled by the dark eyes right beneath them. stress didn't seem to abandon aki hayakawa even in his second lifetime.

immediately your mind wanders to an explanation but the deer caught in headlight look is stronger and hence you and the baker-who-is-aki-but-also-isn't-aki find yourself staring at each other through the glass till it gets all back to you.

a snowball fight, not even a funeral and being forced to hide as to avoid makima.

maybe ten years might have been enough to get over it or not.

you ran then and thought of never going back.

and yet, it isn't like you could show up to denji's birthday party without cake, simply because you had met somebody that looked like the man that you had loved the most in your whole life. you could choose another place, you doubt that denji would notice the difference but there's a morbid curiosity as you walk in the shop this time, glad when the blue-eyed baker simply stays at the till while you look around the different cakes on the shelves.

albeit, it might not seem, though, you feel his gaze onto you and no matter the slightly cold air coming from outside, you are a sweaty mess once you have done your choice - you are glad that you had already made it the previous night - asking for the matcha and chocolate tiramisu.

you don't know why - this man isn't aki, you didn't see his body but you felt it when he died - but somehow you expect recognition from him, as if at any moment he might say 'hello, it's me, I am back'.

it shouldn't be that startling nor surprising to know that it won't happen.

"he is gone" you repeat to yourself, over and over "... he is gone, he is gone, he is go...".

«I am sorry, miss» the voice - it's the same, it's haunting how much it sounds the same and for a moment you think of asking him to say 'I love you' one more time - questions as you raise your eyes, risking of dropping your bag on the carpet «... I... well, will it be all?».

of course.

of course, he's a simple baker, not your aki.

«yes... ahem... no actually... I saw some eclairs would I be able to take them on the go, today? I... my friend will come to get it on the day of the birthday. should I leave you an account of the total for the cake?» it's a normal conversation.

a totally normal conversation with somebody that seems like aki and sounds like him.

«oh no, it's alright. just... I need a phone number for any... delays or such» he explains professionally although not without a sheen of nervousness, probably thought it's a mixture of tiredness and awkwardness.

you give him your number, although it'd be better to use yoshida's since he is the one doing the pickup but it's a self-indulgence that you allow, sure that from the moment you exit this place you won't ever think about the baker that shares so many traits with your beloved.

it'll just worsen everything for you.

«alright, miss... I'll call you for any delay but your friend should be able to pick it up at any time in the afternoon of thursday».

you nod, now your head downcast while your eclairs are packed and you give him your card, cursing yourself for not having chosen to pay in cash when the awkward time that awaits for the bank confirmation stretches uncomfortably.

«... I also... do know this might be a personal question and I... I just had this sensation... have we met before?».

no, this can't be happening. it defies any law that you have ever known, because people don't come back.

especially people that you prayed to come back at night while holding to their shirts till they lost the telltale smell of smoke and cologne and not eve a combination of cheap cigarettes and the specific perfume brought it back.

your legs want to go, but you find yourself anchored on the ground as you awkwardly stammer.

«I don't... I don't think so... I... it's the first time I came around this part of the city» not wholly a lie, but you feel like it'd be much to spring the truth: 'you look like a whole lot like the man that I loved with all my heart and who took it with him when he was gone' «... but I... well, it seems that I feel the same way... I mean... I got the same sensation».

because you know him, you wish to say, because he's your aki.

and he does smile like aki, all open and soft, holding his teeth back and all lips.

«oh then maybe... we have known each then...» he hands you your receipt as finally the bank sends the confirmation of your transaction «... in a previous lifetime».

[thekatebridgerton]

More humorous takes about the Bridgerton brothers that make me laugh is that I cannot stress enough, how much I love their 'unhinged for wife' energy. Because it's just so funny

Anthony, like, you can see it, he's not even trying to hide it, he can and will be a meanie to his nemesis Kate who he also happens to love more than life itself, and to everyone if they don't fall in line. that's his whole mojo. People meet him and know at first glance that Anthony Bridgerton will not hesitate to use a gun if the occasion calls for it, because he outright intimidates people into submission. So good luck trying to mess with him or with his wife. He will end you. Have you seen him play against his wife in Pall Mall. He loves her, but he will not lose to this woman! She will one day respect him!. He's the boss of the house dammit (he's not, it's Kate, but she lets him think he is)

Colin is my favorite. because he looks nice and he looks friendly, and he would totally sink to the deepest of the low to have Penelope the moment he kissed her. This man is absolutely as unhinged as Anthony possibly more so, and he hides it so well, that everyone thinks he's the most charming brother. In fact the only person who knows how crazy Colin really is, has to be Penelope. Colin can talk his way out of anything (even a murder sentence. Do you ever wonder why nobody has ever sued Penelope for defamation? Because I sure don't), he's a people person. It's maddening, I want to convince people that Colin is the worst of the worst, and people are still like 'but he looks like such a harmless guy, just look at him eat that eclair' yeah! I know! that's how he got to Penelope! he was all cute, pretending to be nice and by the time she discovered he was the devil in disguise, he already had blackmail material on her!!. Men like Colin scare me, because I know he's bats*t but I just can't prove it.

Benedict and Gregory are just the same version of unhinged, just in a different font. Because they actually believed themselves to be the sane ones and then they met their true loves and you see that sanity? it went out the window.

Benedict used to think he was such a gentleman, who respected ladies and would never dishonor one, and guess what kind of obsessive idiot he turned into the moment Sophie said 'no' to his seduction tactics, be my mistress this, be my mistress that, Sophie ( and I) just knows Benedict's thought process alone should be landing him in jail instead of her, but he gets away with it, because apparently annoying her to death doesn't actually count as a crime. And the thing is, that she's the only one who triggers the crazy in Benedict, he's perfectly sane with everyone else, but it's her and only her who has him going all naked swimming in the lake, and obsessive paintings of her face plastered on all his sketchbooks (and his home, actually I'm pretty sure Benedict has a secret Lady in Silver shrine somewhere in My Cottage, that he took down before Sophie could find out about it) , not to mention his whole 'F society if I can't f Sophie' love at first sight excuse that somehow everyone swallows without questioning how crazy Benedict actually is.

And then he had to go teach that to Gregory! And Gregory was such a sweetheart, I actually thought he was going to make it to half of his book without going unhinged and then Lucy tells him the name of her fiancee and he goes ' wait, I know the guy, he's super gay, I can't let you marry him... ' my brother in the force what is your problem! Leave the girl alone. She's your friend, stop stalking her, she's got her own problems to deal with!! Lucy did nothing to deserve how Gregory randomly went from nice guy she was super supportive of in the courtship of her best friend, to kinda obsessive dude who won't leave her alone and wants to ruin her arranged marriage (let's ignore that said arranged marriage needed to be ruined and it might as well be by him). Guy was a green flag for Hermione but the moment he began fixating on Lucy, homegirl kinda saw the light and was like ' he's crazy, yup, totally mad.. about me sure, but this guy... He's never been told no in his life and it shows, it shows for miles'

And I just laugh so hard because people look at Anthony's fed up face and somehow think that he's the worst to fear in in the Bridgerton family. But nobody knows just how crazy his brothers are, except their wives. At this point Anthony's resting B face has to be some sort of defense mechanism because he had to grow up with Benedict and Colin while trying to raise Gregory. He may look intimidating but he's actually a reasonable man if you think about it. But his brothers, those three are just hiding their unhinged for wife energy a lot better. And you just don't want to know what kinda chaotic crazy thing they're capable of doing if they think it would impress Penelope, Sophie and Lucy

And that's the tea.

[bvtbxtch]

White Knuckles and Red Hearts | Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

a cute little (I don't know what this work means, the fic is 3.9k words) oneshot for valentines day <3 IT STILL COUNTS BECAUSE ITS FEBRUARY

You had been paired together in Home Ec. You were making eclairs. Everyone else in your class sneered at him, hoping - praying - that they wouldn’t have to be in the same workspace as the freak of Hawkins High. Sure, you didn’t jump for joy when you met him in your designated kitchen space, but you gave him a warm smile and introduced yourself. From that moment on, your name rang through his mind like church bells. His hands shook when the two of you measured ingredients, but you quickly put him at ease with your effortless friendliness.

“So, eclairs huh… have you ever made them before?” You smiled over the metal bowl filled with various dry ingredients. 

“Ahh, can’t say I’ve had the pleasure. Don’t find a lot of fancy baking in the trailer park. But I did spend about 10 minutes in a French class before I was kicked out so I do know that it’s french.” Eddie jousted back with a dry laugh. 

“That’s where I knew you from! Your face looked so familiar to me!” You giggled. Eddie’s cheeks bloomed a glowing red. Your smile grew and you peeled your eyes away from him to form your choux. 

“You know, in French eclair means flash.” You babbled. Eddie could see your cheeks were turning a darker pink than the rouge already donning your apples. Eddie wanted to listen to you talk forever. “They say it’s because the glaze on the top of them… or because people eat them so quickly, they’re gone in a flash!” You both looked up and locked eyes. You suddenly felt shy. Stupid under the glow of the big brown doe eyes peering down at you. How the hell did anyone think that this person in front of you was a freak, was dangerous, wasn’t worth friends?

“Sorry, I’m babbling now.” You turned away to begin whipping cream while Eddie had begun to boil water.

“No, no! Babble away! You have interesting stories.” Eddie praised. 

The rest of the afternoon flew by as the two of you laughed, stole spoonfuls of chocolate, and filled your delicate pastries with sweet cream. The bell dismissing the students from their last period of the day startled the two of you out of your dream world. You handed Eddie the last bowl that needed to be put away and wiped your wet hands on your jeans. 

“Well, thanks for being a great home ec partner, Eddie. If we get to pick our people next time, we should work together again.” You smiled and squeezed his shoulder as you breezed past him to grab your backpack. You flashed him another smile and waved at the door. Eddie felt his knees buckle. You were beautiful; Eddie had noticed you at the beginning of the semester, in awe of how simple and easy you made beauty look. You weren’t popular by any means, but as a member of the drama club, you had a great group of friends. Eddie couldn’t imagine why you would want anything to do with him.

DnD wasn’t the same; Eddie’s mind was not fully immersed in the world he had created. Usually charismatic and intense, he was tripping on words, forgetting important details he had set up last session. His mind was transfixed on you. God, he felt pathetic. You were the first girl that wasn’t in Hellfire or wasn’t trying to get free weed from him to be nice to you. Was that all this was? Was he that pathetic that he was going to fall in love with any girl who was nice to him? Surely not. You were different. Not every girl had glowing eyes like you did; nor did they have such a friendly smile, and the slightest dusting of freckles across their cheeks like yours. They didn’t genuinely laugh at his jokes or touched his arm like you did. You weren’t petty or rude or hung out with him as a joke or-

“Dude!” A squeaky voice rang out, interrupting his daydreams of your interactions. “I rolled a 16 does that hit or not?!” Dustin Henderson was not a patient person on a normal day, but now, the third time he had to snap Eddie out of whatever coma he was in, he was rapidly growing angrier by the second.

“Uh- yeah.. How many hit points does it take?” Eddie mumbled. 

Within 25 minutes, the whole Hellfire party had surrendered to their DM, ending the session 40 minutes before their scheduled end. With a frustrated huff, the gaggle of high schoolers exited the stuffy prop room and into the dim hallways. 

February rain was not uncommon in Hawkins. It had caught you off guard though. In typical midwest fashion, the morning had started out mild and sunny. Now, at 5:45 when you were attempting to flee the grip of Hawkins High and make the 10 minute walk to the comfort of your own home, you were met with sleet and rain. You paused at the thick glass doors keeping you warm and dry and let out a long sigh that clouded the vision in front of you. You shrugged your shoulders and pushed through the doors into the cold, wet parking lot. You were kept warm by the thought of seeing an outlandish metalhead in the morning. You had to admit, you had been scared by Eddie Munson. His hard shell deterred many people away, but when you were given the opportunity to get to know him today, you penetrated right through to his soft center. You had to stay after school to direct for the one act festival next month, but like Eddie, your mind was transfixed on your home ec partner. You replayed your conversations in your head as you headed to the main street that dissected the community of little houses and the high school field. You shivered into your jean jacket, cursing the fact that your fashion choices weren’t practical at all for a rainstorm in February. Your eyes stayed glued to the pavement in fear that your face would freeze solid if you looked against the wind. Your hair stuck to the sides of your cheeks. You moved your legs as fast as they would carry you.

Eddie jogged out to his van, now covered in frosted rain drops. The short jaunt already had made his hair heavy with moisture and left a shiver in his spine. His engine lazily sputtered to life and he tore out of the school’s parking lot. He couldn’t wait to get home to pick up his guitar and write you forbidden love songs you would never hear. His headlights pelted through the thick, icy rain. God it was miserable. As he rounded the corner of yet another sleepy avenue, he slowed his van and pulled to the side of the road. He rubbed his eyes in disbelief as he stared at your hunched over figure fighting through the storm (and very obviously losing). He pulled his rusted van over to the sidewalk just ahead of where you were trudging. You stopped and squinted towards the rusty Chevrolet Astro and the curly haired driver that was looking at you with his beautiful, yet worried, eyes. You could see Eddie’s tongue poke out of his mouth as he reached over to the passenger side of his van to unlatch the door. 

“Hey, Y/N! Are you okay?” The boy had to yell to be heard over the pelting rain and the rattle of his exhaust pipe. “Do you need a lift?”

Your heartbeat quickened and your cheeks grew warm. You smiled at him sweetly. “It’s okay, Eddie. It's only a few more blocks to my house.”

“Are you sure? It’s terrible outside. I really don’t mind!” You paused in contemplation. Did you know Eddie well enough to get into his van? Most of your friends would say no, but you felt like you’d known him for a long time. You felt safe around him. So you shrugged your shoulders and hopped into his van with a small ‘thank you’ leaving your lips. A sudden wave of bashfulness hit you after you gave Eddie approximate direction to your house. 

“I-I usually just walk, you know? It was so nice this morning, but…” you ended in a curt giggle, and you couldn’t help but shake your head in embarrassment. It made Eddie’s dimples sprout on each of his cheeks, like you had seen for the first time this afternoon. 

“Well a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be walking at all! Let alone in weather like this!” Fuck. His lips moved before his brain could catch up and stop him. His eyes grew double in size and it was his turn for his cheeks to turn a bold red. “Sorry I didn’t mean- I mean-”

“It's okay Eddie.” You turned your head away from him to stifle your grin. “I appreciate the ride”

It felt like no time before Eddie pulled up to your house.

“Thank you again, so much for the ride. That was so sweet of you.” That damned shoulder touch again. The warmth from the hand around his jean jacketed shoulder sent molten lava straight to his heart. 

“Hey,” he choked. He ravaged his cluttered console for an old napkin and a sharpie. He hastily scribbled his digits on the napkin and shoved it towards you, eyes glued to his knees. 

“Here, take this, just in case you get caught in this shit weather again.” He didn’t feel your fingers take the paper. He peered up at you, cheeks bright red and brown eyes bright with rejection already. “You know, I just-I don’t mind driving you, you know? It’s strictly just-” He was interrupted by your soft hand around his wrist.

“Eddie” you cooed as you took the wrinkled paper from his hand. “You are the sweetest. Of course I’ll take it. I really appreciate it.” Your eyes locked with him and you felt electricity surge from him to you. You released your grip with a blush and backed away from his van.

“Maybe I can call you about some home ec homework too?” Eddie thought his chest was going to burst out of his chest. 

“Y-yeah, doll. That would be great.”

He watched to make sure you got into your house, and left only when you flashed him a smile and wave from your door. He drove home smitten, still smelling your perfume, feeling your warmth from the empty seat beside him. Blissful giggles escaped his lips. 

-

The shrill ring of the telephone startled Eddie out of his daze and brushed through the cloud in his room to the hallway. He picked up the phone and answered with a lazy ‘hey’. His throat closed when he heard your voice peep on the other end of the line. \

“Hey, Eddie. I-is this a bad time?” Yes. Eddie thought. He was just starting to feel his buzz, now he felt like he was going to have a heart attack.

“No! No not at all! What’s up, Y/N?” His baritone voice went straight to the butterflies in your stomach. You took a deep breath to ground yourself. You could hardly believe what he was doing to you. Yesterday, Eddie was a stranger to you, someone that was interesting to look at, but you hadn’t dared interact with him - he was too cool for you. 

“I-I’m so sorry to ask this… but I think I left my history textbook in your van from this afternoon. I am so sorry but is there any way I can come pick it up or you could-”

“Oh! Yeah I will bring it to you, no problem!” Eddie choked. Your stomach sank in excitement.

“Oh, great, thank you so much!”

“I’ll be there in 10” Eddie hung up the phone before you could let out another apologetic thank you. You bit at your nails in selfish excitement. 

Eddie raced through the darkening streets of Hawkins. He remembered where you lived like the back of his hand: past the school three blocks, to the left, then take a right and you were almost at the end of the street. Luckily the storm  His headlights pulled up to the sidewalk in front of your house, like he did earlier that afternoon. To his surprise, he saw the upstairs window on the second floor illuminated with your excited figure. You sheepishly slid the window open and crawled through it and shimmied down the ivied siding. You trotted up to Eddie’s unrolled passenger window. 

“Hey, Eddie. Thank you so much!”

“No problem. Front door broken?” Eddie chuckled. 

“Nah, strict parents make for sneaky kids.” You wagged your eyebrows at him. You boldly opened his passenger door and snaked into the seat. Eddie’s cheeks grew warm with yours as your bodies were now closer (but not as close as you both craved). He sheepishly handed you your textbook, which you pulled to your chest.

“Thanks, Eddie.” you peeped. A sudden burst of courage hit you, and although your hands felt numb, you took a breath and let the words escape your mouth. “I need to tell you, I don’t think that you’re crazy and weird like people say.” You dared to look into his soft, dark eyes. “I think you’re really sweet, and funny. And it really sucks that Hawkins is too small minded to see how great you are.” You leaned over and gave him a sweet peck on the cheek before hopping out of the passenger seat. Eddie wanted to pull you back to him, to grab your face and press his lips to yours; but he was frozen in shock. He would have never imagined you ever wanting to talk to him again, let alone thinking he was a good guy AND pressing your perfect pout to his cheek?

“Thank you again, Eddie, for driving all the way over here. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

He mustered up the strength to break out of his daze. “Yeah, doll. I’ll see you then”

With silent smiles, Eddie watched you retreat back up the siding of your house back through your window, pausing to look back at him. 

Eddie drove home with a smile plastered to his face. 

-

The second week of February was filled with stolen glances in the busy hallways of Hawkins High. Your home economics classes flew by, papers being graffitied with notes and doodles passed between the two of you. Your dreams were filled with Eddie. Every second or third comment to your regular grouping of lunch buddies was something that the metalhead said or did or comments that reminded you of him; But you didn’t dare disturb him and his gaggle of Hellfire-clad freshmen; just like he knew he would warrant a death wish by coming to speak to you and your friends. So, you kept your little slice of heaven to blushing smiles, secret notes, and your home ec class.

When the two of you both found yourselves at school late (which both of you were finding more excuses, Eddie would offer to drive you home. You would sheepishly follow him through the parking lot and take (what Eddie will now permanently hope is) your spot in his rusty van. You were scared to admit it to Eddie, but it was easy for your own revelation: Eddie was very quickly becoming your comfort person.

February 14th was usually a day that reaffirmed that Eddie was destined for a life of loneliness in Hawkins, Indiana. Until, he pried open his overfull locker and was greeted with a small green note with his name neatly printed on it. 

“Eddie. Thank you for being such a great person to be around. I hope you have a great day - just like the rest. You deserve them.”

Under the message, your name sat with a small heart scribbled next to it. Eddie’s cheeks burnt a furious red. His big brown eyes scanned the hallway desperately, hoping to spot your bouncy curls, or hear your infectious laugh; but to no avail. He trudged through the halls. He strode up to Chrissy Cunningham and her gaggle of cheerleaders - your normal crowd.

“Hey Chrissy.”

“Oh- uh, Eddie?” The metalhead could tell that he had caught the girl off guard.

“Sorry, don’t mean to bother you in your natural habitat” the girls shifted uneasily. “But do you know where Y/N is? I need to talk to her… about home ec homework.” He wavered over his lie, and Chrissy caught the note grasped tightly in his hand. 

“I haven’t seen her yet today.” The girl gave a polite but curt answer. The group dissipated, but Chrissy offered a light touch on his shoulder. “When I see her, I’ll let her know you need to talk to her.” With her words ringing in his ear, and the shrill warning of the morning bell, Eddie was alone in the hallway with his lovestruck mind. He decided to do what he did every time he was in crisis: go to the bleachers and make himself forget about all the shit that was worrying him. He spent the morning outside, but by the end of the day Eddie had spent his time either thinking about you, or tracing every inch of the school looking for you.

You had stayed home, school feeling less than ideal today. You had stuffed the note in Eddie’s locker at the end of the day - opting to stay even later than he did and walked yourself home. You didn’t sleep all night, and could barely get any food down today. Would he understand? You were only bold enough to make a move in subtleties. Would he care? 

Eddie gripped his steering wheel with white knuckles. It was a drive that he wished was both over already and would never end. It was a short drive to your house from Forest Hills Trailer Park. Eddie had called Hellfire off and beelined out of the school when he found out you hadn’t shown up at all. He felt he had paced a trench in his bedroom floor debating whether or not he should go to your house. What if the letter was a mistake? Or if you were only reaffirming you only liked him as a friend? When the clock hit 9:30pm, he couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed his keys from the hook by the door and trotted down the concrete steps. When the van rumbled to a start, he turned the radio fully off, too tempted to be absorbed in his own thoughts. The streetlights of your neighborhood illuminated the small red heart box and the humble bouquet of roses that sat where you normally did. Eddie chewed on his lip so hard he thought he tasted blood. His brakes squealed to a halt on the sidewalk outside of your tidy little house. He had hoped that the light in your bedroom would be off, so he could wimp out and go home and hide in his bed forever. But his heart skipped an excited beat when he saw the light in the window you had crawled out of a week ago was on, and it illuminated your figure moving through your room.His breath caught in his throat as he turned the key in his ignition and grabbed his wares to begin his journey up the ivy siding to your window. 

-

You had hid yourself away in your room - cassettes, VCRs and books being your welcome distraction from your anxious heart. A tap on your window pulled you from Madonna’s breathy whines about living in a material world. Your heart dropped to your knees when you saw a mop of dark ringlets framing an alabaster face. Eddie’s eyes were wider than you have ever seen them, but filled with an unreadable haze. You rushed to the window and let the boy fall into your room. He straightened himself up with a nervous smile, you returned the sentiment. His hands stayed fixed behind his long body. He shifted his weight, but couldn’t help but inch closer to you as well. 

“Hey” he peeped

“Hi, Eddie. What are you-”

“I-uh. I got your note.”

Your breath hitched and it was your turn to shift your weight. The spot on your carpet was suddenly too tempting to look at than Eddie’s face. His hands obscured his vision. In them you saw a small red box, and flowers. You looked up at Eddie with confused excitement; his face was warm, cheeks blushing. 

“I looked for you all day at school today because I wanted to ask you if you’d be my-”

Before he could finish his sentence, you threw yourself into his arms. Your cheek could feel the pounding in his chest and he stood in shock. 

“Of course I will, Eddie.” You breathed into him. You pulled yourself away from him and took the flowers from his hand. You placed them on your desk with a giggle. You turned to see the open box that Eddie had in his hand. In it laid a small chain with a pink and purple guitar pick. You gasped in awe and your eyes filled with tears. 

“I thought, since I have one-” he pulled a red and black pick on a chain out of his Dio tee. “We could kind of match.” Eddie’s voice shook. His cheeks matched the red on his own necklace. You pulled him to you and pecked your plumped lips against his cheek. Eddie chuckled as he spun you to put your new favorite piece of jewelry on you. Eddie clasped the metal and ran his hands down your arms. 

“Let me take you on a date, please?” He whispered. His hands sent shivers throughout your body. His lips pursed on the top of your head and you wished you could stay in this moment forever. You turned in his arms and draped yourself around his neck. His arms migrated from your arms to your cheeks. His doe eyes were dark with admiration, he wanted to devour you whole, but he waited, silently asking for permission to press his lips to yours. You silently obliged him and tilted your chin up to him. His soft lips met yours and the world slowed. His thumb traced small grounding circles on your jaw. Your insides filled with molten, a desperation for the moment to never stop. Eddie’s soft lips probed yours, lightly asking for permission to deepen your kiss. You permitted him with a content sigh and let Eddie show you just how much he really cared about you. All of the words he was too afraid to say to you, all of the times he wished that he could sweep you off your feet and kiss you in front of everyone. For the thank you he couldn’t give you for the note you left him. For the times he wanted to ask you out in his van, or the time he desperately wanted to tuck your wet hair behind your ear the first day he drove you home. He poured all his heart out to you and you felt it. You pulled away softly with wet eyes. 

“Eddie, I would be honored.”

-

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[sgiandubh]

@outlanderskin :"For those who have doubts: just research a little about Caitríona's dating history. See how she treated Dave and James and how she talked about them in interviews. See how she wrote about the Irish boyfriend she had in Paris in that article. Compare all of this to the impersonal way she treats or talks about Tony. Bingo🙃"

Good point 👌

Dear Good Point Anon,

You know, it's really serendipitous, as I have just finished a weeklong deep dive in very, very old press articles on (or at least mentioning) S and C, who clearly had a life before OL, thinking it would be nice to put some of my archive work skills to good service.

I think @outlanderskin was referring to C's New York Times article I reviewed and analyzed last summer, but I just found way better: a very long report in the Irish Independent's Sunday issue of July 11, 2004, focused on the next generation of Irish supermodels. Of which there could be only one, at that time: C, who dominates Roxanne Parker's 'Through Thick and Thin".

I am sorry, there is no link available to my knowledge, so we'll have to work with these very poor xerox scans:

I took the liberty of generously using my dreaded highlighter and, for the people who need to translate this post with Google, I am now taking my time to type what I find damn interesting in this almost twenty-year old article:

'If Ireland ever has a hope of having its own supermodel, then Caitriona Balfe is it. Sitting in the Pink Pony Café on Ludlow Street in New York, Caitriona swirls a wad of bread into her carrot and coriander soup while informing me that her musician boyfriend just brought her a breakfast-in-bed of cream eclairs and coffee a little over an hour ago. But that doesn't stop Caitriona from finishing her lunch and chasing it with a large cocoa-dusted cappuccino. Ebony-tressed and ivory-skinned, Caitriona clip-clops down the cobbled street after we leave the cafe, heading towards her apartment in Chinatown with Dave Mailone (sic!), the boyfriend, in tow.'

This reads, in 2024, like an interview with a more benevolent C clone from a totally different planet, indeed. A young, carefree, in love and hysterically funny C, who apparently had no problem heavily dishing out happy tidbits of her private life to her home country's press. A C also very much reminiscing anyone with a brain of the 2013-2018 bantering C, as this quote shows:

Again, you'll have to indulge me retyping it, Anon (tedious, I know - but helpful). She is remembering her real breakthrough, in November 2002, at the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show, in New York:

That was the most I've ever been paid for a show. I've got 18,000 euros for one day's work! They made me get a spray tan before the show, and I was still the whitest and the least well-endowed girl in the entire show! So what did she have to wear on the big day? `Not a whole lot! I think I described my outfit on the day as something Wilma Flintstone would wear on her honeymoon night. There wasn't a whole lot to it and it had bits of fur hanging off it.'

And, for good measure, we even have a (admittedly, awful) picture with the season's fiancé, with whom things did not end well:

I know, it looks like a Pravda pic, circa 1957 and I am honestly sorry. But it's still very clear. And, which is more important, very eloquent.

Anon and reader, you draw your own conclusions on this. I know where I stand. The only guy C has similar pics taken with and released in the press or on social media is the peasant some love to bash every single day in here. Their problem, not mine.

Yes, of course Mordor will yell and hiss. Of course they will throw rotten tomatoes at the blunt knife and scream THIS IS OLD. But hey, do you have any better than this poor (but oh, so endearingly authentic) picture or than any given S&C pic before the fucking EFH and IFH, when she gradually started to turn into today's Reclusive, Restrained and Rarefied Greta Garbo wannabe?

Oh, and please: don't give me the 'he's shy' or the paperwork crap again. Her public persona has drastically changed, and not for the better. It's plain to see and there are reasons for this.

Who's to blame? This question is so wrong, in so many ways.

The question should be 'what's to blame?'

I'll stop here, Anon and I hope it was somewhat useful. Thank you for dropping by.