#but the painting practice has been very very good so im gonna just try to do it faster :)

[diurnalcritters]

Day 449

[hyperref-lex-ia]

lots of common reactions i get as a mute person

all the following are peoples reaction when they assume i am deaf, the most common assumption

- flustered and lifts hands to try and sign and then lowers them when they realize they dont know ASL

- flustered and starts to sputter and talk before settling on mouthing things at me

- mouths “can you lip read”

- talks really loud at me (which wouldnt do much if i was deaf so idk)

- goes to find something to write on

- sometimes if i type on my phone in my notes when i need to say something other than yes or no people will go to literally take my phone from me to type back instead of literally anything else

- signs some of the more common sign, i get thank you a lot (especially in customer service situations, which is where most of these happen)

- if it is someone on the street saying something and they assume im deaf when i sign at them they usually just disregard me which is actually really nice

these next ones are when people dont assume im deaf, which is rarer

- talks to me normal

- talks to me like im dumb

heres a few nice incidents

- guy asked me if i was mute in spanish and i nodded and he asked if i knew spanish and i was like not really lol (live in a heavily hispanic area so i picked up on enough to understand) and he switches to english and shares about a talk he had gone to recently about mutism

- girl working at sonic assumed i was deaf and ran inside just to grab her phone to help me which i thought was really sweet so i just didnt correct her

- just today i was using the self checkout at a gas station and the guy behind the register sees me getting frustrated with the card reader and slides over a piece of receipt paper that says “tap works better” and i am like “i dont have tap” and i decide to just cancel the self checkout and move to him cause hes got good vibes and he holds the bag up and raises an eyebrow allowing me to have a choice in it which i dont often get. when i am leaving he signs “have a good day” super slow and obviously practiced a lot, and the fact that he obviously learned that just in case this happened made me really happy

- every time someone has happened to know ASL in public, its always surprising how many hearing/verbal people know ASL, almost always because they are CODA

- the enthusiastic gay man at my eye doctor who got so excited when he saw i signed even though he doesnt know it, because he thought it was so cool

- every person who goes “oh you speak ASL” and then immediately thinks about thay sentence and kind of 404 errors out as they realize you cant speak ASL

- the tiny middle aged mexican woman who has worked the store at my school the entire time ive been going there who knows me because i always go there for caffeine and snacks, and manages to always communicate with me despite a couple language barriers and will often berate me if i dont get water with my caffeine or if i dont get food, and who also wishes me happy holiday for every holiday that comes around, and was also very visibly worried when i had to rely on a cane for a few months

- my painting professor who always takes so much pressure off because hes so blunt, when i came in with a cane everyone danced around asking about it and he walks in and goes “what the hell happened to you??”, the most recent thing that made me laugh is we were talking and i was using TTS and as we are walking into the studios he goes “im gonna go talk with Ronnie, give your thumbs a break” and then we both started laughing

the worst interaction ive had

- had one of my professors numbers which happens sometimes because it makes life easier and she texted me out of the blue saying she “had a dream she was at my wedding and i spoke my vows” with heart emojis and i did not know this woman at all and i was like…what the fuck…not only is that unprofessional but also ableist

lastly shout out to my friends who translate for me purely off lip reading who dont know ASL

[jessedraft]

TEEN!MC

where the brothers find out that teen!mc, who they practically see as a little sister now has a crush on somebody, how would they react? — gn!mc thats around 16-17 years old

small note_ im gonna say the demon that MC has a crush on is somehow the same age.. dont ask how just go along with it!

MC could not stop getting distracted while they were on cooking duty with Satan. They obviously had something on their mind that was distracting them but everytime that he asked they just brushed it off and tried— key word tried to focus on the task at hand. He also noticed before that they would get distracted or seemed to be lost in their mind during other ocasions. Now that just got him curious, what could be distracting MC so much? He wantsd to figure it out himself but he decided to consile his brothers about it, even if he didnt exactly like that the idea.

"Satan what did you call all of us in here for?" Lucifer asked while crossing his arms, it was after dinner and he decided to call all of his brothers to the living rook while MC was in their room. "Yeah.. I was just getting ready to have an anime marathon with MC!" Levi said sulking— not very excited to be out of his room espcially since Satan interupted him while he was setting up his room so him and MC could watch one of his favorites together.

Before any of his other brothers could complain sbout how he interupted them and whatever they were doing Satan sighed and said, "Well haven't you all noticed that MC has seemed lost in their thoughts recently?"

"I haven't noticed anything about that idiot lately." Belphegor says looking half asleep, but truthfully he had noticed that they seemed to be more distracted recently. Asmo chimes in, "Well.. whenever im hanging out with MC they seem to barely be listening anymore!" He pouts thinking about whenever hes been painting his nails with MC, or going out to shop with them that they haven't really been paying attention.

"They've been ignoring me too!" Mammon says before Beel responds, "Maybe they're just thinking about food." I mean thats what he's almost always thinking about... "Thats what you always think about.." Levi says

"Back to what I was saying.." Satan says— with an annoyed expression, "I've been trying to think of what could be distracting them so much." He continues and now all of them are trying to guess what could MC possibly be thinking about that causes them to lose focus or start ignoring them?

Mammon laughs, "Definitely money!"

Belphegor rolls his eyes before saying, "Probably 'bout sleep."

"Ohh!!! Maybe they're thinking about their favorite anime or.. characters, maybe even games!" Levi says excitedly about the idea of MC having the same thoughts as him

"Cats? Or maybe they read a book that they enjoyed and can't seem to get their mind off it." Satan suggests

Lucifer sighs shaking his head, annoyed at his younger brothers, "Isn't this supposed to be what MC is thinking about?"

Asmo seemed to have an idea and gasped dramatically, "Wait.. what if our little human has a crush..?" He says whike smiling, happy to be a your wingman if you do! Oh and he can dress you up for your dates, aslong as whoever your crushing on is good for you though!

All the brothers fall silebt for a second before Mammon says, "Hah, No way!" He brushed off the idea before Satan cuts in, "No.. that could be it."

LUCIFER

he wasnt very pleased with this idea, espcially since that definetely seems like that is whats distracting you

extra protective, he would be anyway— but its a demon..

and demons are known to trick humans.

he HAS to see who your crushing on and make sure theyre not gonna try anything

oh but dont think your off the hook if they have no bad intentions hes still overprotective

.. but if they have no ill intent then hes more open

no sleepovers though!

basically an overprotective parent

MAMMON

hes not happy with this either..

not like lucifer though, hes more open

he'll even sneaks you out and help you avoid lucifer

and trys to be your wingman!

probably going to have to convince him with grimm or puppy dog eyes— hes weak to those..

also has to see who your crushing on and hes going to pratically interogate them to see if theyre good for you..

that poor demon just wanted to have some peace before they got bombarded with questions

but after he knows theyre good for you hes pretty chill

LEVIATHAN

not very happy either!

though its only because he still wants to spend time with you

where your actually paying attention..

so you'll need to assure him that you will spend with him and you'll listen to him

after that he doesnt really care

though he also wants to make sure that your crush would actually be good for you if you try to pursue them

he wont sneak you out or anything but he wont snitch if your going to hang out with them

so also chill, as long as the demon you like isn't going to hurt you in anyway

SATAN

had mixed feelings— he was intruiged on how you came to like this demon but also wasnt very happy that it was some unknown demon

if it was someone he knew wouldnt have any ill intentions he wouldve erased the second part but it was some unknown demon..

but after he sees the demon and knows they dont have any bad intentions then hes okay with it

he still warns you to be cautious though

he'll help sneak you out only to see lucifer angry

although most are probably cheesy, he'll try to give you some tips on how to ask someone out that he's read in romance novels or seen some people do

basically another one that doesnt care that much

ASMO

he is beyond excited about this!

of course— he'll make sure the demons good for you but after that he is now your wingman!

will help you talk to them, or even talk to them for you!

oh and cant wait til you guys start dating! oh hunny he is going to make you look so good!

he absolutely supports it! maybe a little too much..

also helps you sneak out and see whoever you like

but its all in good nature!

BEELZEBUB

hes happy for you and doesnt care that much

he also warned you to be cautious

again, he made sure he was good for you

but he did ask you to meet them or at least see them

after that he didnt care— covered for you if your sneaking out

but hes probably not the best option to hide it.. once lucifer offers him food then he snitches

but hes really sorry for doing so, he just couldnt resist food

he'll listen to you ramble about them as he eats

pretty much just happy for you

BELPHIE

similiar to satan— he had mixed feelings

he didnt really care for the most part

but definitely needed to see who this demon was and made sure they werent going to use you

also sneaks you out to make lucifer angry— sometimes to annoy you he will snitch

gets annoyed when your wont stop going on about your crush to him while hes trying to sleep

he does tease you about it though, a lot.

other than that he really doesnt care

end_ if you couldnt tell this was supposed to be a small fic.. but i got lazy

[a-court-of-moonlight-and-ire]

Ive made through chapters 4-7 today and good god, I feel like i had basically nothing to say about acotar as I was reading it but with this book theres so much to talk about for some reason, its wild. Truly, I did not realize how much I liked Feyre in the first book until I was under threat of losing her

Now, I will say that Feyre seems in-character so far, shes still the same woman but traumatized, but I am worried for her. Tamlin is a whole different story though, SJM might as well shoot him dead right in front of me for how thoroughly hes being character assassinated. Like, if Tamlin actually cares about Feyre as a person and not just in a douchy, possessive alphahole way, which he should because Tamlin was not that kind of guy previously, then he would force Feyre to train so she can defend herself if necessary, not forbid her from it. Even if he didnt want her to use her magical powers, surely he would make her practice with her knife or with a sword or even with her bow just to be safe, because hes not always gonna be there

I think his actions do continue to make sense if you look at them from his perspective, but I also maintain that he's doing a really bad job at responding to Feyre. But also, its so laughably obvious what sjm is doing by having Tamlin say shit like "you were stolen from me", shes trying to paint him as some objectifying asshole. Even Lucien calling her "Tamlin's bride" feels like its part of all this, and I know Ianthe is gonna turn out to be a traitor and a rapist at some point, so it really comes across as an attempt to villify the entire spring court for its association with Tamlin

Speaking of Lucien, I genuinely think part of the reason Feylin is doing so badly in this book is that his dynamic with Tamlin is completely different now. For some reason hes all like "oh, my High Lord" instead of "my good friend Tamlin", he suddenly cant say a word against him when he was talking to shit to him just a few months ago in-uinverse. Like, if their dynamic was the same as it was in acotar, Lucien wouldve probably been like "hey man, I know youre stressed and I get it, I know what its like to watch the love of my life get brutally murdered I dont know what its like to have her magically ressurected again but thats neither here nor there, but Feyre is clearly not happy being inside all day and you need a break, go take her out on a date in the woods, I'll stay here and take care of everything, dont even worry about it" or gotten him to comprise with Feyre or chill tf out or SOMETHING but because theres suddenly this rigid hierarchy in the spring court in order to make the night court look better

Speaking of the night court, Ive heard some stuff about it feeling very orientalist but it still managed to completely blindsight me with its badness. Feyre got fucking harem pants to wear, really? And a short-sleeved croptop, and no fucking shoes, probably because Rhys didnt want Feyre throwing shoes at him again. That was the one moment in this book that brought me genuine joy btw, I would read a thousand fanfics about her just throwing shit at him

Anyway, speaking of my guy (derogatory) Rhysand Nolastname, hes so incredibly annoying I dont even have any coherent thoughts about him right now, like, if I were to write down what I think of him I would just write "he fuckinh pisses me off" over and over again. Im actually a really big fan of edgy shadow bois, but only if theyre like, sad and angry and closed off, if theyre like Rhysand and theyre all flirty and teasing and cocky and shit, theyre just annoying and nothing else. And the romance has barely even started yet, I cant imagine how much worse the flirting is gonna get later. Not to mention all these desperate and obvious attempts by sjm to make him sympathetic and morally good now, its honestly pretty pathetic

Now Im gonna be real with you, I didnt get a lot of sleep yesterday and I can feel myself and the things Im writing getting less and less coherent, so Im just gonna hit you with the very last of my thoughts bullet point style

The fact that Amarantha apparently didnt actually go rogue and it was all part of Hybern's plan feels misogynistic ngl

Ianthe's entire character already feels so misogynistic and slutshame-y and she hasnt even assaulted anyone yet

Something about Mor bothers me, I cant quite put my finger on it but its there. I think I do like her for annoying Rhys though

God, Im gonna have so much to say about the Illyrians but for now, its awfully bold of Rhysand to be like "they wasted no time throwing themselves before her feet" when THATS WHAT HE DID

Thats it for now

[polychromatiica]

i love ur art sm!! ur such an inspiration 💌💌how do you choose your palettes? the colors you use have always catched my eye

thank you so much!!!

For the colours, I don't know what to suggest if you do traditional art as I'm not very skilled in that but if you're a fellow digital artist I can try!!

pretty long post coming up, btw I do need to preface I'm just a student and not a professional, so take this all with a grain of salt especially if i get technical at all

TL;DR (too long didnt read): i use a green and or orange multiply layer, i try to give everything a dark green-orange undertone, focus on how certain colours look when next to each other and how they can appear completely different

also also its late and im tired so i apologise for any mistakes

i usually start by doing colours that generally match the character im drawing, then i just kinda go wild with altering them, ive learnt to pick them on my own through practice but a lot of the time and starting out i simply mess around with "blending modes". It'd be difficult to explain all of them and they may differ from software to software but my favourite one is "Multiply" (which should be on most softwares, hopefully!)

now, what you do with these depends on what sort of vibe youre going for, I like warm colours, I don't really know how to describe my art, but I like it to be saturated yet dark.. if that makes any sense lmao

gonna use this random doodle of emma to explain what i mean. on my phone rn so its not,, very good but itll do haha

so, i started by getting roughly similar colours to what she has. colourpicking from official art is always an option too, if youre drawing an oc then just figure out the general "local colour" (flat colours unaffected by lighting) you want the character to have and put them down, my art switches from being desaturated and saturated a lot depending on the vibe im goung for, for the more saturated art I'm gonna add a clipping layer of this solid bright yellowy green olivey colour in this example (the colour you use changes the atmosphere of it a lot, i usually use green or orange because i really like the look it gives, i love dark and warm tones)

clipping is a feature a lot of art softwares should have, for this im using ibis paint x, i usually use clip studio paint, others will have it and blending modes too, it lets you create a new layer and "clip" it to the one below, anything you draw on the clipped layer will only show up on space that has been drawn on the layer below (but you can hide/delete anything on this layer and it won't effect the original layer!)

next im gonna use the multiply feature,

"keeps only the darker colors of the blend layer and makes light colors less opaque. The resulting color is always darker, except for where it's pure white" (taken from a website called sketch) dunno how much the specifics of its affects change between different softwares, but the way I view it is always "makes base colours darker, and adds a tint of whatever colour you selected"

the result from doing that is this! this gives a sorta green tone, you can play with the opacity to change the intensity. this is a really simple trick to get cool looking colours, and the more I've used it and paid attention to what specific colours i get from doing it. for these saturated pieces ive noticed that depending on how much I tinted the piece any colours that would for example be white (like the hair frederick has in this drawing) is actually straight up yellow/orange

i have some art thats a little less saturated/a bit darker than this though, but its a pretty similar process! you can see the white of their shirts are actually again a dark desaturated yellow/orange, now you may notice it looks a little green at first, that is another thing to keep in mind

colours can trick your eyes a lot! and you can use this to your advantage very well, I'm not well versed enough in colour theory to explain the exact specifics on how this happens, but basically depending on the colours surrounding it, certain colours can appear completely different

another example is normans waistcoat in this drawing, you probably see that and think "thats blue" but nope, somehow, its actually a very very desaturated yellow! grey can appear as blue a lot ive noticed

if we isolated that grey/yellow colour you can see it is in fact grey, but it looks blue in the whole drawing!

whilst obviously theres nothing wrong with making a drawing of a character where things like blue actually are blue or a white/grey is actually white/grey, in the style of art I do i personally enjoy limiting the amount of colours used and using certain tricks to make it look like theres more variation in hues than there actually is, i like how cohesive it makes the artwork look :)

heres another example of what multiply can do with a few different colours, its best to learn to colour without it, i see multiply (and other blending modes! theres a lot of them) like training wheels, its not cheating to use them, its just a little boost to help you start out, and you can go a lot further in developing your understanding of colour if you try and learn to colour without it :D

[trashbins-stuff]

Hello. I have seen that you have been tagged by @neobixiscool on one of their posts. I am planning to make a rant post on them. If you can provide some background info and your side of the story, that would be great. If you feel uncomfortable discussing this, that's ok. Have a good day/evening.

rub hands together like flies. my time has come/silly 😋😋

and thank you for coming to me :3 i appreciate it/gen also i get to go all cabby on this hehe

oh and, im not really hurt-hurted by them, i feel like mocha (mochablogger), liam (moonmxple) and mac (blairdrawzstuff) are most affected. They did have a book with my character in it but in a different universe or something (without my consent nor credit btw). Anyway under the cut is my observant. Honestly i think i might have jsut make the rant post for you lmao hrgbnhe 😭😭

the background/before:

mocha was working on a little story and xe said we could be in it! so obviously me and my friends signed up for the fun, not really expecting anything, the story was called "The Traumatized Cup", thats when we first meet him.

In one of the chapter mocha had introduced rubix, at first i didnt really think much about him, i was just aware of his presence, i do notice him and mocha started to become friends and i thought that was great :)

something that you should probably contact cuppy for more info:

so rubix (or according to rubix, "jasp" was roleplaying) and mocha were friends on facebook, and they roleplayed there i think, this i just know but apparently he said crap about liam (mocha's platonic partner and my best friend). Mocha is very sensitive and even in roleplay xe's still uncomfortable with what rubix said

"bezel's" divorce headcanon (and possible influence on further problems):

i heard people talked about it but never knew where it came from, but thne i found out and,,

tdlr; 1st one is about mocha and rubix, i dont know if mocha consent to it. 2nd one is uh a bit weird i i guess like he could have ask facemoji to make another one ;-;. 3rd ah yes the divorce that i had heard about!/vneg

rubix said bezel forced him into making the 1st one, even if thats true, rubix said the divorce was bezel's headcanon but hes the one that decided to post the 3rd one ("okay i asked facemoji again..")

seem kinda sus not gonna lie..but what do i nose right :-)

bezel probably influence more but even after all these months im still not sure if he really did do those things, idk lul, it is pretty weird that bezel's blog was a sideblog though (liam told me)

heres a bunch of words with link attach, those r my opinions lmao:

these u can just click to read so i hope thats okay

on wattpad he have a book in which he painted mocha, hazel and blair as manipulative (admittedly his writing was good, he could have used it for something different though)

he also uses some of our characters (such as mocha cuppy, hazel, blair, harp, blueberry, winter, bin (mine btw), seedling, galaxy journal,...etc) he did the delete that book tho, anyway heres more screenshot proof (credit @moonmxple )

mocha asked liam and neobix said its cringe

i remember this one also

the one where he tried to ban pet name and online dating (in 2023) (check the comment and other reblogs also theres alot, its practically a goldmine/silly)

and can i say he barely knows our friend group? like sure he knows mocha but hes trying to fit into our group (very poorly)

please read what cass wrote in the comment (thanks cass for speaking out about it ily)

the ask i sent him

NOT to get all bitchy here but mocha blocked you therefore you literally dont appear anywhere on xer dash, you're out of xer life and xe had no reason to pester you, not everything has to be about mocha. You guy's relationship (or supposedly lack there of) had change but honestly? thats okay they dont have to like the same people that they liked yesterday. You might think you know that's them but it wasnt, mocha in real life is kinder and better than the version inside of your head and they're happier now and its so sad that you cant see (because you're blocked)

and again, not everything has to be about YOU

he also made it all about HIM like excuse me ???? can i not complain for little bit without you coming in and nag about your problem ??? if you're suffering go talk to someone dont talk to online strangers ??? :)))???????

bro cant even read a long paragraph post like go back to elementary school lmao, also reporting ppl just because they use their right to not forgive you is such a sore loser move, it make you sound like petty six year old (also max be spitting facts tho)

bro brought out HIS right (reporting mocha, which he actually cant do if he doesnt have a valid reason) while ignore MOCHA's right (not forgiving him, which isnt a valid reason for him to report xem). The definition of petty is literally complain way too much about unimportant things that could have and should have ended already

"you dont have to relate to everything you see on the internet, somethings are simply not about you" :)

did you know that to report someone you have to click alot of buttons??

common salad W <3333

oh yeah, this doesnt have links but jasp/neobix is being so casual abt bezel's death but also uses it as a way to make people feel bad for getting upset with what he did

Sorry for playing the dickhead role, but you wouldn't be laughing if you knew how we felt about every single one of you. (why it sound serious all the sudden lol)

why i still doubt (uh and heads up, galaxy brush, kodu, cuppy,..others who think @/rubixisanidi0t was saying the truth, im not saying he isnt but you cant blame me for not trusting can you? please skip this part if you're sensitive):

naw so if this was suppose to be jasp then whats jasp motive lmao :/..he dont gain anything from this + who tell people their secret plan publicly?? + how did jasp know about rubixs hallucination?? rubix please dont tell such personal things to jsut your friends and please just talk to an adult in real life. And jasp, dont let these kind of things on the internet its not safe/srs

this is just straight up weird and also why did neobix/jasp said "old friend" like hes rubix?? when he supposedly told rubix and i quote "yeah.. Soo.... This person named @/mochablogger seemed like some cool person, and when I tried to talk with them... Nothing happened, so when I figured they didn't care... It all happened at once." neobix/jasp and mocha werent even friend to begin with why was he SO obssess over getting mochas forgiveness when they supposedly barely interact much??

aint it a bit weird how this is supposedly jasp/neobix but why would they make this video??? it???doesnt make any sense?? and like were rubix and jasp still good friend??? why wood bezel make jasp of all people do it??? unless yk

HOL UP, WAIT A MINUTE..if rose jelly dated rubix but rubix tunred out to be jasp then..WHO IS ROSE JELLY ACTUALLY DATING??????

if @/neobixiscool is suppose to be jasp then how did he get a screenshot for a show rubix was making???

i translated it and head up. it has death threat in it

you know, if someone stole my account and ruin my reputation i wouldnt be following them and be mutuals with them :)

i appreciate him saying hell save us but like..why would @/neobixiscool linked the real rubix's yt and discord knowing full well that the real rubix was there and could told joiners the truth??? that seem kinda dumb ngl also on the channel you can find a video called "waitng for forgiveness" which @/neobixiscool had talked about. and lets do a bit of timing here, if rubix really was telling the truth and havent been on social media since his alst post on @/rubixcuix (last posted in august) and the divorce arc and the roleplay thing and EVERYTHING had started in september, and if the yt belonged to rubix, then he shouldnt have known that mocha didnt forgive him and make that video????? bc he wasnt suppose to be there since august??? bc if anything he shouldnt be waiting for forgiveness bc if jasp really did steal his tumblr account then its not his fault?? like i find it absoltuely HILARIOUS that the evidence agaisnt what rubix said was on both the account @/neobixiscool AND @/rubixisanidi0t's PINNED post?? and it boggles my mind how no one talks abt this???/lh/nm i mean its quite obvious maybe im jsut really observant though idk

if you got your account stolen and jasp supposedly brought back a wattpad book, i dont think you should be continuing it?? and didnt you said your reported him on wattpad?? on the same account where the book is?? why are you acting like "yes i did promise them this and im fully aware of what happen even though i supposedly havent been here since august and i will continue this book" has it hit you?

uh yeah so these are just my silly little takes, but hey! what do i nose? :-)

[myheartbelongstothefandom]

about the movie, i have ... a lot of mixed feelings, and its been a very long time since i even used this blog, but i need to ramble into the void about it.

first of all, i am actually really happy that there is new material, and i cried when i knew it was on the cinemas in my country and i cried non stop for a very long time, and i was happy while watching the movie, but it was lacking, to say the least, it was a bad movie. so its a bit infuriating to see so much praise going to it, when ...

first of all, its really frustrating that after four year all we get is one movie that doesnt even reaches 90 minutes (i do not know how it went i didnt read anything about the production or whatever went backstage, and tbh i dont think i care, 4 years is a lot of time, considering that the first three seasons were released one year apart from each other, and the fourth season even though it took them 3 years there was covid and ... there were in total 24 or 25 episodes. not 86 minutes)

i know im gonna say something that has already been said, but its very odd that it was a movie and not one full season?? theres no argument that would make it make sense to me why, for the love of god, they decided to make this arc a movie. theres so much to be said about it idek where to begin

if im correct, this game goes from the chpater 249 to 322 (i did not read the manga), and i do not like being the nerd but... all the four seasons, in total, are 85 episodes, meaning they adapted 249chapters to create those 85 episodes. so the 73 (from 249 to 322) chapters couldve been adapted into a whole season of 24 episodes !! its really odd that they chose to do a movie when there was so much material that couldve, and shouldve, been adapted.

this is a game that was awaited since the first season, it was the second practice match karasuno had, and it was a goal since the beginning, to play against nakome in a national tournament. the fact that they spent the time that would be like 4 episodes on this is mind blowing. the game against shiratorizawa was 10 episodes, the game agains (the game in the first season again dateko goes on for 2 episodes!!!) THE FIRST GAME AGAINST AOBA JOHSAI STARTS SOMEWHERE ON THE 19 EPISODE AND GOES ON UNTIL 24 !!!!!!!! BE FOR REAL BE FOR REAL PLS YES IT WAS AN IMPORTANT GAME BUT THERES NO COMPARASION

the flashbacks were interesting and i was rll glad i saw them but bc everything was so rushed, it just felt like chunks that they had to put there somewhere in the middle of the game. and while throughout the series it was works wonderfully and its really fluid, in the movie every time i was about to get inti the game there was a flashback....

one of the reasons why i love haikyuu is because they dont focus just on one character or one team (one of my favorite episodes is even winners and losers, season 1, ep 16): in this anime, because its volleyball, theres no need to have a villain, the motivation is always to win, and maybe the character has a reason or maybe it doesn't, but that doesnt matter. and they could paint the other teams as villains, but that would be cheap and tbh overdone, they are not the big bad wolves trying to takee away the victory of the main character, they are just highschool students that want to play and to win to keep on playing. so the fact that they only focused on kenma, and kuroo ig, really took away some of the charm of haikyuu.

there were very few memorable moments, sure the final kenma pov was cool af, the shot of kenma and hinata with a knife was amazing, and the animation of kenma putting hinata on a cage was also cool. and i did like the way kenma looked kinda... sad?? when hinata started to be down, but ..... it just wasn't enough.

it wasn't enough to the overall quality haikyuu as as a whole, and tbh i dont even think it was a good movie

[studioboner]

Hi! I actually am wondering about trying watercolors for the first time but feel a little anxious haha.. how you go about drawing on the paper with confidence? Like, watercolor paper isn’t exactly cheap. I think I got the cheapest one avaible from Canson but still the anxiety is real… do you pick very light pencils like 2B so you can sketch veryyy lightly, or before sketching on the paper itself you do a planning sketch in another paper?

Im asking this cos I really love your art and it’s so cool that it’s mostly traditional! And the way you draw Tails is too adorable and consistent while being in your style, it always feels like you have confidence when you draw him.

oh i think this is gonna be a long one

all in all?i have the same anxiety as you. but i've confidense that i can make something good sometimes, but not that i will get it right every time. So i keep trying, but heres some stuff that helped

a warning though, i keep going on and on in this reply and can get pretty negative at times

my watercolor paper i use costs 2 dollars and has 20 sheets so that's 10 cents per sheet. which i feel helps with my anxiety... it's the canson multimedia block too, 140 msg .....

watercolor sketchbooks i'd find online were around 80 or more BRL, and then 20 BRL shipping.... that's 20 USD in total...

but a block of this plus getting it binded costs me 4 USD.....so i think that one [price] helps alot lol.....

as for the confidence.....

i've had enough time to do quite a bit of trad art, specifically ink and watercolors so im USED to the material and now quite as scared to "mess up" as when i first started it.... [hint, i still am] this is one example of a sketch page, they vary in size, and how "done" they are... i dont really worry too much about maintaining a rule of "everything in this sketchbook must be fully rendered " bc it ended up stunting my creativity

i did try the "sketch it onto a sketchbook and then pass it to watercolor paper" approach and tbh...? not really my thing... i've found that to me the first sketch always end up being looser than when i pass it on... i'm always more focused on getting the flow, composition and pose there than i am getting the right details or right lines or colors etc....

like this one, im more happy with the sketch, it's mroe dynamic, mroe fun

i DO sketch stuff on cheaper paper first when it's for trad art commissions though, just bc there i HAVE to make sure the client is getting what they asked

and i do use 2b pencils AND a "soft lead" mechanical pencil, btu tbh it's mroe bc of the feeling of it on paper than for the look of it...

here for example you can see the circle i used to have a basis on where tails would be.. i didnt erase it as i continued painting bc tbh it was just the sketch. i ended up liking it tho

i actually got quite MAD and angry at myself recently bc i noticed how much my sketches were looser in the sketchbooks when i did try the passing onto watercolors thing and i had a full on discussion with a fellow artist about daring myself to be bolder in the future, it has been working well

I sadly have to say though, that figuring out how to build confidense is more of a personal journey, and i cant claim that what worked for me [trusting my first sketch] would work for you.....

It's time, practice, trial and error....

OH, one thing though that DID help me. is:

-There's no art wasted, even if it doesnt turn out how you wanted it, you still learned something.

-Makins these personal art/fanarts isn't some school paper you have to hand it to be graded and then not get it back. You can re-do a piece as many times as you want until you get it right! I have quite a queue of pieces i plan on re-doing in the future bc i didnt like the first ones i did. im not perfect on confidence and i get scared of fully committing to drawings alot, many of them are pale not for choice bc bc i got scared of making my art too saturated and overworking it

i am about to get negative now so stop reading if you dont want to see that.

HERE NOW i's a alot of pieces i made that im unsatisfied with and plan on re-doing one day: too dull, simply way too watered

which led me to make THIS piece and do better colors

i hATE the way i did the lineart here. it's boring, the anatomies are wonky. it's a good concept but i didnt excecuted it as well as i wanted. but this piece has made me just go and try inking MORE so i could make up for it

which lead to this piece here eventually

This one here.... the colors look so muddy it just makes me SAD, bc i had been so scared to use high saturation that i went with the muddier colors by choice, if i had allowed myself to experiment i wonder how happier i'd be about it

which led me to make THIS piece with softer in value and more saturated colors

The colors and blending of this one are too soft and not bold enough for what i had envisioned it, i made it as fanart of a friends fic and it made me feel like i failed my friend and insulted her fic when i finished this. I dont think the piece looks bAD, mind you. i know it looks cute. and good even. But i had such high hopes for it.

which led me to make this one

THIS ONE OH MY GOD HOW I HATE IT. sonics expression is SO creepy hes like a horror movie weirdo , honestly not my best work when it comes to anatomy

so i've been doodlin sonic now and then as practice so that i could make this one eventually

The perspective on knuckles could be better and the characters look out of place on this scene, the background is ok

but in this piece here i was able to get a better harmony between colors, background and whatever sparse linework i threw in

Theres so many more haha but i'll stop for now....

Dont get me wrong i dont ACTUALLY think those pieces are HORRIBLE horrible,,,, i see the flaws in them yes, but theres always something i like too, and i know people like them, and that people wont throw away a whole piece over one small detail that in the end doesnt even affect the overall thing....

i've just been getting into the headspace of "ok. at least this one is done, onto the next"

plus the whole thing i told you of realising my first sketches are looser....

sorry im not too good at talking about this and my points arent very clear, i dont think this is going to be quite the help you expected it to be because the truth is that the struggle with your art is soemthign that doesnt go away no matter what skill you have...

at times to me it feels more like a mentality practice than skill, reasurring myself that it's ok to get it wrong and try again, etc etc....

i used to go to therapy and one of the things we talked about was my perfectionism, how i used to be so scared to mess up a piece. that i wouldnt even start, and wouldnt draw for months. this has been going for years now and hey i've gotten better.

but..... yeah im in the same boat as you.... except mine is no longer just about the paper quality!

Sorry this got so personal now, i hope that this hasnt killed your hopes on getting better at the anxiety. it does get way better haha... trying to force your brain to not judge yourself so harshly is half the battle in my opinion, the practice of drawing is the other half....

good luck i hope you have fun painting, i know i do, i love the process even when i dont like the result, good night and thank you for the question

[trickstarbrave]

i see it less as "this is just for fun shut up!!" (but like, yeah it is. tbh i dont take my fic writing as seriously as i would a full novel. sorry to fic writers who do but its a different medium with different rules. i dont see telenovellas as the same as a drama/suspense feature film and tbh there are pros and cons with each with their own audiences. i don't get ppl who say it is all 100% perfect literature that should be taken as seriously as the classics or something fanfic is on the same level as webnovels for me--and i enjoy webnovels more than the average published novel. something being less serious and more causal has no bearing on popularity or level of enjoyment in the audience)

but instead. if you are a random reader on my fic i don't necessarily know you. i dont know if we're on equal footing. you could be a published author giving me writing advice i do not understand. you could be a total amateur giving me horrible advice. you could be an annoying prick who doesn't understand basic themes or deeper meanings who loudly and angrily says "the curtains are just BLUE!" complaining in my comments about how nothing makes sense and the fic is annoying to read because you are taking everything completely literally.

i got some frankly hurtful "constructive" criticism in early fandom days from people who flat out hated my work and were never gonna like it. it could have been the most well written, well structured, gorgeous prose, and they would be pissy about the plot and subject matter. the "tips" they gave me, while sandwiched between genuinely good advice sprinkled in, was mostly "this story sucks, the plot sucks, i hate what you chose to write about, you're an uncreative hackjob of an author, get off this website before you continue to make an utter clown of yourself because i hate AUs and i hate canon divergence and i hate this ship". and if you so much as said "uhm maybe this fic just isnt for you then--" they would proceed to harass you. honestly its a wonder i continued writing at all, but all it did was serve to make me more paranoid about what i was putting out into the world. i wasn't thinking about writing fundamentals or pacing or plot structure or characterization, i was trying to justify my ideas for years. because it was shitty advice. they didn't want to help me get better, they were mad i wasn't writing the stories they wanted. and it made me a worse writer for a time.

constructive criticism is constructive only when all parties know each other well enough and can consent to it. it only works when its done by peers or higher ups who are trained in how to criticize a work properly--because it's very easy to again, not see the story the writer wanted to tell and how to make it better, but instead see how you would write it and make it fit into your vision. bad writing workshops where people don't get this IRL also has this side effect.

fanfic writing is writing practice. you're putting words on a page, that is practice. regardless if you are making a crackfic or writing a full multi-novel series. but in terms of art if im coloring a sketch im going loose and fast, getting ideas down and practicing shapes and forms--it's not gonna be polished. i dont need someone to tell me "uhm your lines arent clean. and also this hand is wonky. and the folds of the fabric dont make perfect sense" yeah. its not a polished painting. sorry i do things that are loose and fast? it doesn't mean i learned nothing from the colored sketch or no one should enjoy it. it means it should be graded on a different standard. i know the lines are rough. i know its a bit unclean. i know the hand looks wonky bc i didn't wanna spend half an hour making it look perfect. i can promise you i CAN make it look polished.

or just as easily it's a newer author. they don't know how prose should be structured. they don't know pacing yet. do you genuinely understand it well enough and can explain it with clarity enough to teach them? are you ready to hold their hand through that? are you ready to full on teach them so they make improvements? probably not. i just dont think the average AO3 user is a writing instructor who wants to do that on their time off. but you pointing out complex things in an effort to be helpful probably isn't gonna help much. they most likely know its awkward and weird on that part, or if they don't, you pointing it out isn't a solution. you'll at best have no effect, and at worse just make them self conscious.

tl;dr: fanfic isn't serious and idc whoever says it should be held to the same shining standard as a full published novel, they're morons. critiquing smth is a skill that requires the consent of all parties, and can't be done anonymously unprompted. bad critique can be more harmful than no critique. idk who you are most of the time, random commenters on ao3. i wouldnt go to you for advice, why would i take your criticisms unprompted? you don't know who the hell i am or where im even going with this story. if i wanted a beta reader id find one. and i learned more through genuine practice and learning exercises than i ever did unprompted "advice" and "constructive criticism" on fanfic websites

I just saw a Tik Tok that said writers on AO3 are not looking for constructive criticism in their reviews. I have no audience on this platform so I have to know if this is true? I've always left my pros and cons when reading a fic and now I'm concerned that the authors didn't like that.

Yeah writers are Not looking for criticism, constructive or otherwise. Unless they specifically ask for it, it’s considered rude and honestly a bit hurtful. In the least bitchy way possible, don’t do that. It’s unwanted.

[lumalalu]

saw a cockroach today............... kafkaesque

[actualbird]

UR HANDWRITING IS SO GOOD!! It definitely gives me kiki vibes. Ur little dooble of peanut(? I think idk it might just be a random bird) and urself is super cute! Im now thinking about each nxx boy’s artstyle… -✨ anon

hi Sparkle!!! haha thank u, im glad u think my doodles (and yea that was me attempting to draw peanut borb kjkjBJKSF) r cute!!! and NOW IM THINKING ABOUT NXX BOYS' ARTSTYLES NOW TOO AND WHEN I GET THINKING I MUST....EXPAND

nxx boys' artstyles (aka all the boys draw a dog)

wc: 624

marius: his art is beautiful ugh

okay so marius we can get out of the way fuckin immediately. hes an artist and painter and studied in florence, this dude DEFFO draws so good and skillfully.

canon hasnt really told us (yet) details as to what his Exact Style is but his painting alterego Z has been described as an impressionist painter who has an exquisite sense of color and mood. ive seen a tiny smidge of marius' anniversary card where hes sketching and he does seem to go for a quite realistic style.

so i think if he were to sketch a dog, he'd go for something like this. realistic with the impressionism's focus on light and shadows (source)

vyn: you can easily tell it's a dog

i had a hard time with bc thus far i havent seen any mention of him doing visual arts yet (i have not yet played his card stories, IM SORRY VYN, I KNOW, IVE BEEN NEGLECTING U). but based on his vibes, i think he'd be pretty good!! like it's not gonna win him awards but he can easily pick out the most important features of what hes drawing

him drawing a dog would look like this. simple but easily recognizeable (source)

artem: HAHAHAHAHA

artem is where things start getting hilarious. several stories have mentioned him being VERY BAD AT ALL KINDS OF ART. buuuut in SR Fixated On You he facepaints a really cute pumpkin on mc's face!!! mc herself says it's adorable!!! what on earth happened here, i thought you were shit at art, artie?

well [spoilers for that card] at the end of the story it is revealed that he practiced drawing that pumpkin OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN. he had a STACK OF SKETCHES and with each sketch he had noted down his improvements and he used references and i genuinely want to fucking cry, artem is so earnest and he wants to do things right but //holds his face gently. JUST DRAW A SHITTY PUMPKIN, IT'S OKAY, EVERYBODY WILL LOVE IT!!!!

but yeah, if artem had to draw a dog he'd ask for a reference image before starting.

and his first try would look like this (source) (you can hear celestine's laughter all the way from nosta) (i mean it still looks like a dog!!!!)

luke: it's a four legged mammal?? of some kind???

i dont have SR How I Remember You (and im in pain about it) but my friend was kind enough to stream the story for me and my girlfriend!! in that card story [spoilers for that card] luke and mc play pictionary and mc says that "Luke isn't very good at drawing. A classmate had once mistaken a horse he drew for a pig in art class..."

which. luke pearce how did u fuck up THAT BADLY??? LMAO??? it's very cute tho bc mc says that since she's seen so many of luke's doodles (he always draws on the holiday cards he sends her, i am going to burst into TEARS) she can easily tell what hes drawing.

but for non-mc people. uh. well. if luke fucked up a horse to be a pig, i can assume that at the very least, he gets the number of limbs correct. and everything else just gets so vague that it could be anything that shares the general shape of what hes drawing

so heres luke's drawing of a "dog" (source: my hand)

during nxx investigation team pictionary

marius: it's a cat

vyn: yes, it is definitely a cat

artem: it's a cat that's...wagging its tail?

luke: GUYS CMON. IT'S A DOG...

mc: a german shepherd, right?

luke: YEAH, EXACTLY!!!

marius, vyn, and artem internally: how...did she FIGURE THAT OUT???

[earthh2jadee]

if you kissed me - Rodrick Heffley | 1.9k

Yeah yeah i know i haven't written since a million years ago. and yeah yeah i know this is my first real fanfiction i posted on tumblr. fair warning, i'm not the best writer, i honestly just do this for fun and i'm totally up to criticism because i do want to make my writing better. if this is literally inaccurate, im sorry its been like 5 years since i've read the books. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this fluff-fest that I created in the span of a few hours.

paring: rodrick x reader genre: fluff. lots of fluff

Credits to the maker of the picture! 15 Days till the Contest | 9:42 PM, Saturday

Plick, plick, plick

My speakers were blasting so loud I almost didn’t hear the sound of pebbles hitting my window.

Plick, plick, plick

I rubbed my eyes and slammed my laptop shut, walking toward my bedroom window. Peering down, I saw a figure a few yards down from my second-story bedroom, looking back up at me. Dark brown, messy hair that stuck up around his face. A red and black flannel, black ripped jeans, and, (of course) a tee-shirt with “Loded Diper” clumsily written on it. A grin spread on his face as he saw my face come into his view, causing me to blush. Rodrick Heffley, Crossland High bad boy, and my boyfriend.

I unlocked the latch to my window and stuck my head out, taking in the cool air and letting the neighbors enjoy the music I was playing (they never did). I looked down.

“Y/N!” He whisper-yelled

“Evening, Heffley.”

“I need to tell you something!”

“What’s so important that you have to scratch my window instead of using the power of modern technology to call me?”

His mouth opened to give me a response, but nothing came out. I smirked, “Come on up.”

I opened the window wider as he climbed the trellis that lined the back of my house. I backed up to my door and locked it. Precautions, my parents liked Rodrick but they definitely wouldn’t approve of him in my room at night. I looked back and I saw him, every feature of him illuminated by the light of my room. His cheeky smile and chocolate brown eyes. He slowly closed the window and walked toward me, brushing a strand of hair out of my face. I still got butterflies whenever he touched me.

“Hey, Spiderman. What did ya climb in here to tell me?” I asked

“I got Loded Diper into a contest.”

My eyes widened, Loded Diper, my boyfriend’s rock band, wasn’t exactly known for being the best. It was mostly known for his mom’s insane dance moves during the Plainview Talent Show. But of course, i'll never say that in front of his face.

“You did?! That’s awesome Rodrick!”

“Yeah! It's a battle of the bands contest, we’re going against two other bands. I really think this is gonna be our big break!” His eyes sparkled in excitement.

His happiness was contagious, he was like a goddamn puppy. I pulled him into my arms. “I’m proud of you Rod.” I muttered and smiled into his collarbone. I felt him inhale the scent of my hair and twirl my locks around his fingers.

“Hey,” he said, breaking the hug. “I’m having practice tomorrow with the band, you wanna come?”

“Sure. I go to every practice anyway, why miss out on this one?” I shrugged.

He chuckled and looked at me. Really looked at me. That’s one of the reasons why I fell for him. It never seemed like it, but he paid attention. We’ve only been dating for 4 months, but he knew me like no one else did, and I knew that in the way he looked at me. I felt his hand cup my face, his thumb rubbing my cheek in small circles. I looked up at him, noticing how tall he was, how close he was. Was I the one who leaned in? Was he the one who leaned in? Did we just do it subconsciously? Did he want this? Was he ready? Was I ready?

The ringing of Rodrick’s phone filled the room. The daze we were trapped in was gone and we separated, our faces red. Rodrick picked up the phone, it was his mom.

“Yeah, mom? Mom...I’m in the middle of something. I’ll do laundry later, ok? Now? C’mon… Alright, fine. Bye.” He hung up. “Sorry, I gotta blast.”

“It’s fine, I’ll see you tomorrow?” I asked him as he started toward my window.

He looked back at me and planted a kiss on my forehead, the farthest we’ve ever gone with physical touch as a couple.

“Tomorrow”

~~✰✰✰~~

14 Days till the Contest | 1:22 PM, Saturday afternoon

“Should we take it from the top?”

Practice wasn’t going so well. I could feel the nervousness, the tension. Drums were slightly off beat, the guitarist’s fingers would fly to the wrong places on the fretboard, lyrics would go all over the place. The contest was two weeks away, and Loded Diper was already feeling the anxiousness. I sat on the floor of the garage, on top of a picnic blanket I found. To Rodrick’s dismay, his mom forced him to let Greg watch band practice, as a form of “brother-to-brother bonding time.” Greg sat next to me, mockingly covering his ears.

“Oh thank god, it's done.” Greg said with an immense amount of sarcasm and uncovering his ears.

Rodrick threw a crumpled-up piece of paper at his head, “Shut up.”

“Both of you, be nice.” I laughed. “I think you guys should take a break for a while, maybe shake off the nerves.”

“Good idea Y/N, 20 minute break everyone!” The lead singer said. Everyone spread out, grabbing a piece of pizza ordered earlier and laying down. Greg ran out of the garage, yelling, “I’m free!”

Rodrick stood up and began gulping down a bottle of water. He wore a black tanktop and black ripped jeans, sweat dripping down his forehead. I ran up behind him and wrapped my arms around his torso. He turned and faced me, running his hands through my hair, lost in thought.

“You ok, Rod?” I asked him.

He sighed, “nerves”

I leaned my head on his chest, “You’re gonna do great, you’ve done so many gigs in the past. Think of this as one of those!”

He smiled at me, “You know what would make me feel a lot less nervous?”

“Oh god. What?”

A really common thing Rodrick did was try to bargain a kiss on the lips from me. It's been an ongoing joke, a meaningless bit he did all the time. I’ll do my homework if you kissed me on the lips. I’ll smile in the picture if you kissed me on the lips. It still hasn’t worked.

“I might be less nervous if you kissed me on the lips.” He whispered to me.

I rolled my eyes, “If that’s what it takes then I think you’ll lose the competition.”

He let go of me and laughed, my favorite laugh. “Worth a try.” He shrugged, going off to join his bandmates and the pizza. But as I watched him smile and laugh with his friends, I lost myself. I thought about the previous night. The way we fit into each other, the closeness, the fact that was so close that I could see my reflection in his eyes.

Maybe I should just say yes.

~~✰✰✰~~

The Day of the Contest

For the past 2 weeks, Rodrick has given me the “kiss-bargain” joke 9 times. Every time, I deflected it with sarcastic remarks, and every time I regretted not agreeing.

I sat on the front steps of my porch, waiting for Rodrick to pick me up. I regretted the jean shorts and plain black tee-shirt I had on, as a cold breeze brushed my skin. I pulled my black leather jacket on, which I painted “Loded Diper” on the back in white paint. Then, I heard it. The echo of heavy metal turned to full blast, and… the faint sound of something big getting knocked over. Oh god, they’re here. The white van with “Loded Diper” written in huge words screeched to a halt in front of my house.

The window rolled down, revealing my boyfriend and his excited grin. “Get in.”

~~✰✰✰~~

30 minutes till Loded Diper preforms

It felt surreal to be backstage, and really exciting. Energy was flowing through the room, as all the other bands talked and played. The rest of the band members seemed excited, full of adrenaline. Except for Rodrick, he’s been nervous ever since soundcheck. His leg was bouncing,he twirled his drumsticks around, drumming them on random objects, and his eyes stared into nothing.

“Rodrick, you want me to do your eyeliner?”

“Huh?” He didn’t take his eyes away from the ground, his voice seemed far away.

I lifted a liquid eyeliner pen I had in my pocket, “Eyeliner. I just did mine, we can match!”

He lifted his head and noticed me. I had my eyeliner smudged, just like he always does during a gig. He grinned, “Yeah. Yeah sure.”

I’ve done his eyeliner many times in the past, and I loved doing it because I had to be as close to him as possible. So I hopped onto his lap, pressing myself close to him, trying to comfort him with my warmth.

“Close your eyes.” I ordered.

As I applied his eyeliner, I could feel his heartbeat against my chest. It was heavy, and fast. I’m pretty sure I would still hear it if I wasn’t as close to him as I was, even though the loud music blasting through the theatre.

“Done”

He opened his eyes, and butterflies flooded my stomach. We were close. Very close. Should I do it? Should I lean in?

Rodrick probably sensed my flustered-ness. He smirked, “Cat got your tongue?”

I rolled my eyes, blushing hard. “Shut up.” I said, playfully punching him.

~~✰✰✰~~

“5 Minutes until Loded Diper performs!” A man exclaimed to us.

Rodrick was as nervous as ever. We’ve been standing on the left wing of the stage, watching the other bands play. It felt like a bunch of Loded Diper copy-pastes. A bunch of high schoolers, weird names, very aggressive playing. But they were still pretty good. Rodrick was biting the nails of one of his hands and tapping his other hand on the wall behind him. I looked up at him and held his hand, stopping it from fidgeting. He smiled nervously.

Now or never Y/N…

“Hey, you said that if I kiss you, you won’t be as nervous. Right?”

He looked at me, wide eyed. He seemed to be trying to compute what I said.

I stood on tiptoe and put his face in my hands. It was that night all over again. Every detail of his face, of him was in full view. His eyes, his eyeliner, his scent, his lips. I leaned in.

His lips were soft against mine, but they were tense, flustered. I was terrified, It was the wrong place, the wrong time. Until I felt one hand in my hair, another on my waist, pulling me closer.

How long was the kiss? A few seconds? It felt like minutes, hours. Sparked ignited. Butterflies flew in my stomach. His scent was the only thing I smelled, his warmth was the only thing I felt. The music faded away. Everything faded away. It was just him and I. Until we broke apart, taking in deep breaths of each other. We wanted more, but Loded Diper was playing in a few seconds.

“Hey, Rodrick.”

“Yeah?”

“If you win I’ll kiss you again”

We both knew I would kiss him regardless.

I didn't edit this because editing is for wimps (just kidding be responsible and edit your work)

please like and reblog because it gives me serotonin and i need that

[toplinetommy]

Kill My Lonely Nights - Tyson Jost

a/n: after plotting and replotting this fic for over a month its finally here. my baby and definitely my most favorite thing ive ever written. hope everyone enjoys it as much as i do.

tagging @bqstqnbruin​ thanks for being my beta and for bouncing ideas around with me and also my fav josty whores 😇 @justjosty​ @hookingminor​ @farbutnevergone

Synopsis: tyson finally meets jt’s neighbor — and he’ll stick by her side through her ‘i’m a single and independent woman’ phase as long as jt doesn’t find out

songs: im so tired - lauv, troye sivan; better than heaven - slander; cherry on top - olmos, kyle reynolds

words: 20k+

warnings: alcohol, smut, unprotected sex​

“Tyson, you know my neighbor right?”

You roll your eyes at JT’s way of introducing the two of you, because, no, you did not know the curly-headed brunette in front of you. You had seen him in passing a few times when he was over at JT’s but you never learned his name. In fact, the only thing you knew about him was that they were teammates and you got that from deductive reasoning since he was always dressed in some sort of Avalanche merch. 

“I’m y/n,” you smile, sticking out your hand for the stranger to shake. 

“Tyson,” the no longer nameless stranger responds, a quirky smile on his lips.

“It’s nice to finally put a name to the face,” you respond, your cheeks heating up as you look over him. He’s cute in that quirky way where his head’s a mess of curls, his eyes full of joy, and his shoulders filling out the grey Avs hoodie quite nicely. 

“Same here,” Tyson agrees, shoving his hands into his sweatpants pockets. You continued to gather the few things in the living room that were yours before finding your phone charger and giving JT a hug. 

“I’ll see you when you get back from Chicago yeah?”

“Yep, have a good birthday!” JT cheers, from his spot on the couch.

With that you bid Tyson and JT a goodbye, choosing to wave at Tyson instead of showing an outright affection towards the stranger. The door shuts behind you as you walk a few feet down the carpeted hallway to your own door. 

“Dude,” Tyson starts, turning his attention back on his buddy from where it was lingering on the now-closed door. 

“No-”

“You don’t even know what I’m gonna say!” Tyson incredulously interrupts.

“You’re gonna tell me she’s hot because, yeah, anyone can see that. She’s going through this thing she’s been calling a ‘guy cleanse’,” JT explains, putting finger quotes around guy cleanse. Tyson brushes the comment aside, not bothering to ask any more questions. If he’d want to get to know you, he knows he’d have to do it without JT’s help. JT always had this thing of being overprotective over the women in his life, especially being a guy that grew up in hockey with three little sisters.

Another week or so passes before Tyson sees you again. It’s when he’s getting into the elevator after getting dinner with his JT, and you’re just getting home from what Tyson presumes is work and maybe even the liquor store with the purse and lunch box hanging in the crease of your elbow as well as the case of Truly’s in your other hand.

“Hey, it’s y/n, right?” Tyson says in lieu of a greeting. He holds the elevator open for you as you step out, thinking of ways to keep the conversation longer than a simple greeting. 

“Yeah,” you smile, warmly at him. He can see that your hands are full as you try to shovel through your bag in search of your keys as you take another step towards your door towards the end of the hallway. “Well, uh, have a good night Tyson.”

Tyson watches as you turn away with a small smile, and suddenly he’s stumbling over his words, trying to make the moment last longer. He’s rarely ever seen you around, most times in passing in this very hallway and the occasional time JT talked to you on the phone when they were on the road. You didn’t go to games, you didn’t hang out with the team, and you were never over at JT’s when Tyson would show up.

But when he had officially met you the other week when you were leaving JT’s apartment, he was transfixed and curious about the girl JT always talked about but never brought around.

“Do you wanna come in for a drink?” You ask, nodding to the case in your hand. You’re asking as more of a common courtesy than anything else, but you can tell that he’s waiting for you to make the next move regarding this run-in with him. The peachiness of his cheeks and his hands shoved into his jacket pockets are proof of that.

“You sure?”

“Any friend of JT is a friend of mine,” you smile, opening your front door and gesturing for Tyson to go in before you.

“Yeah, okay,” Tyson smiles, taking another step towards you and reaching out for the box of Truly’s. “Let me take that for you.”

Tyson graciously takes the case from you and steps through the doorway of your apartment, suddenly losing any train of thought he once had now that he’s in an apartment he’s never been in. He sees the fridge across the way and decides he’ll just stick the drinks in there. There’s thankfully space in the fridge for them and he watches you shred your raincoat and heels by the door. “So, uh, how do you know JT? Like, I know you guys are neighbors but he’s always referring to you as his best friend. I honestly didn’t even know that you lived next to him until the other week.”

You laugh, thinking back to how you even met JT. It was nowhere near being a typical introduction between neighbors, it was honestly pretty far from that. “So, whenever he first moved here like two years ago, I was sitting in my car in the parking garage on the phone with my dad, and this car parks next to me and the driver gets out and completely dings my car. I’m talking a paint scratch that’s starting to rust now.”

“He’s pretty unaware of his space,” Tyson laughs, knowing all too well that his friend did something like that.

“And so, I get out of my car, and I confront him about it, and he apologizes and whatever, not a big deal. But then he gets off the elevator with me and I’m thinking this guy’s gotta be a creep since he’s barely talking to me but then he pulls out his keys and is unlocking the door next to mine, and now he bugs me all the time,” you smile, Tyson making space for you to go into the fridge he’s currently standing in front of. 

“You see that picture frame over there?” you nod your head to the wall your TV is mounted on. Tyson walks over to it, inspecting it and noting that neither of the people in it are you or JT. “There’s paint missing behind it because when he was helping me mount my TV he hit the wall with the drill. He got me the frame to cover it but I still haven’t gotten around to putting a picture there.”

Tyson’s eyebrows quirk up, “and how long has it been there?”

“Uh, maybe a year?” you answer, your tone making it sound more like a question as you blush. Tyson only laughs at you, fully understanding how something like that can slip from your mind. You offer him a Truly at that, him not missing an opportunity to chirp you since your flavor of choice was lime, even though his was black cherry, which in your mind was the most basic flavor there was.

He sits across from you at the island while you stand opposite of him, leaning on the granite in front of you. He can’t get enough of your laughter, finding it’s something you do quite often as the two of you share stories. You, on the other hand, have to stop yourself from blushing since he doesn’t break eye contact with you once. It’s starting to get late and you still haven’t eaten dinner, so with an empty Truly in hand, Tyson is reluctantly getting up to head home to prepare for his early practice and flight tomorrow. He doesn’t want to impose on you any further, considering you were essentially strangers an hour ago.

You wave goodbye at him as he walks down the hallway to the elevator, a smile on your face as he nearly runs into Mr. Harter, the man that lives at the end of the hallway. You laugh as he apologizes profusely, something you amount to his Canadian upbringing.

Tyson curses himself over the next few days for not getting your number, and there’s no way in hell he’s asking JT for it. He doesn’t know how he’ll go about getting it, and the possibility of him running into you to get it is slim, with the fact that the Avs have a nine-day roadie on the upper East Coast. He figures he’ll try to ask JT more about you over the course of the trip, and then hopefully weasel his way into getting it.

It’s three days into the roadie and they’re sitting next to each other on the flight from Ottawa to Toronto. JT is busy on his iPad, and Tyson looks around him, seeing Cale and Gravy reading books, and G is passed out behind him. Tyson nudges JT’s shoulder with his, JT pulls out his AirPod and looks towards his buddy.

“So, y/n, eh?” He jumps right in, watching as JT rolls his eyes and moves to put his AirPod back in. “You said she doesn’t date?”

“Correct.”

“Why’s that? She seems like she wouldn’t have any issue in that department.”

“First off, that’s gross. Secondly, even if she was dating, you aren’t allowed to try anything,” Tyson chooses to ignore that part but continues to listen anyway. “She’s just like focused on herself, I don’t know. She knows her worth and knows what she deserves. She’s been single for as long as I’ve known her. It’s no bullshit with her, in every aspect of her life.” JT shrugs his shoulders as he talks. He’s not an expert on the topic because it’s not one you really talk about with him considering it’s just not really a huge part of your life.

Tyson hums along as he listens to JT talk, trying his best not to show why he’s even asking these questions in the first place. He takes what his friend says in stride, not being one to have gone through a phase like the one you’re going through. In fact, Tyson’s never been someone to say no to a date, fully taking advantage of the pro-athlete lifestyle he’s been living for years now. JT knows this, knows what it’s like to be 22, and all eyes on you. 

He was there once, but he’s been with Sydney for over two years now. JT knows the locker room talk that goes on within hockey teams, he’s been living it his whole life. Yeah, the Denver room has been the best and the calmest when it comes to comments about guys’ dating lives, but the occasional whistle and chirp is made when one of the single guys has a story to share. The last thing he wants is to hear your name in one of those scenarios.

He doesn’t get your number during that road trip, can’t even find you on social media so he puts his efforts on pause. He even went through the list of people JT followed, your name not coming up once. Come to think of it, he doesn’t even know your last name.

Soon January is ending and February is starting, the season kicking into high gear as the all-star breaks ends and the playoff push truly begins. Tyson still hasn’t seen you around other than the occasional run-in, and you honestly haven’t given him much thought since that night in late January. Your life has always been chaotic, but still in the most organized way, and you’ve barely seen JT with the way his game schedule is laid out. But the middle of February brings Sydney to town and brings too many parties while she’s around.

It’s at Andre’s place where you see Tyson again, warm pleasantries shared between the two of you. He’s a little confused as he watches you chat with almost everyone there, the weird feeling coming from the fact that most people filling the apartment are on the Avalanche roster. He wonders if you’ve already met most of them or if you’re just that outgoing.

Tyson finally makes his way over to you, two cans in hand as he offers you the one with green lettering with a smile.

“A lime White Claw? That’s the way to my heart,” you joke, placing your hand over your heart before taking his offering.

“I was asking around to see if there were any Truly’s,” Tyson laughs, waving his hand around. “But I hope the White Claw is okay.”

“A White Claw definitely isn’t as good as a Truly but it’s a close second, thank you.”

“Right!” Tyson agrees, “People think they all taste the same but there’s a clear hierarchy of which seltzers are better than others.” You laugh along with Tyson at his comment in complete agreement. You tell him your own tier list of seltzers, starting with Truly’s and ranking the Bud Light ones as the worst.

“I’ve only had a few of them, but I’ll take your word for it,” The laughter between the two of you dies down before JT finds you, saying he’s been looking for you for a little bit.

“It’s not my fault I’m hidden by all these huge men,” you roll your eyes, pointing around the room that’s filled with men all over six feet tall.

“Did you know your neighbor was a hard seltzer connoisseur?” Tyson asks with a quirk of his eyebrow, causing you to scoff. You were nowhere being a ‘connoisseur’ of sorts.

JT takes a sip of his drink, “She’s an alcohol connoisseur period, bud.” WIth that JT disappears to go find his girlfriend, leaving the two of you alone. Tyson’s face is filled with confusion at JT’s comment, not entirely sure what his comment even meant.

“I used to bartend in college,” you answer his silent question. “Which makes me JT’s personal bartender most nights.”

“Maybe I’ll have to get you to make me a drink sometime then,” Tyson suggests. It’s a little too forward for his liking but it just slips out, and you giggle at his attempt at flirting. His tan cheeks have a pink flush to them, and you’re sure it’s not from the alcohol since most people have only been here for an hour or so.

“C’mon,” you nod your head in the direction of the kitchen. Tyson silently follows you, weaving between the people and the furniture. “I can get you that drink right now.”

Once you make it to the kitchen you look around the counters, taking note of the different types of liquors laid out. Tyson watches you as your hands move around, picking up and setting down various bottles. When you’re satisfied with your concoction, you hand him a shot glass, one in your own hand to match his.

“It’s a shooter,” you inform him. He puts trust in you, clinging your glass with his own and bringing the glass to his lips as he tips his head back. Your eyes stay on him as his tongue pokes out to swipe the extra liquid off his lips before you realize you haven’t even taken yours yet. His eyes stay locked on you as you throw your own shot back, your eyes reconnecting when you set the glass on the counter next to you.

A shiver runs through you as his eyes watch your every move. You hadn’t noticed it with any of your other previous run-ins with him but he’s intimidating in that way where his presence is radiating that good kind of confidence. You watched him, unbeknownst to him, as he made his way around the room before ever making it to you.

“So what was that you just gave me?” He asks, crossing his ankles and leaning further on the counter behind him. You move to stand next to him, your shoulder brushing his cotton-covered bicep.

“It’s called a lemon drop shot, it’s just vodka and lemon juice so nothing too special,” you shrug, turning to look up at him. “Maybe I’ll get around to making you more drinks.”

Tyson smirks lightly at your comment, his hands gripping the counter behind him. He remembers what JT told him not too long ago about you, and how you’re someone that doesn’t put up with bullshit when it comes to relationships and his heart deflates a bit. He’d much rather keep talking to you and eventually kiss you, but he knows deep down that’s not what he wants with you either. He can tell from your brief encounters that this could be way more than just a few dates, so he holds back and instead bites his lip before pulling his phone out of his pocket.

He passes it over to you, and you hesitate taking it as you look between the black phone and his brown eyes, “so we can plan a time for you to make me drinks.”

“Ah, I see, I see,” you quip back, taking the phone from his hands and opening a new message and typing in your phone number. You respond back to him on your phone, showing that you got the text and opening up the contact to save his information. “Should I put in some funny name for your contact or is Tyson good enough?”

Tyson laughs fully at that, his chest rumbling for a moment before he calms down and tells you his name is just fine for now, “but I won’t complain if you find a better name for me.” Tyson scratches the back of his head for a moment as he places his phone onto the counter next to him, trying to find the words to keep the conversation going.

You leave not too long after that, catching an Uber with JT and Sydney back to your place. Tyson stays near your side most of the night, giving you a full hug as you leave and a promise of texting you soon.

You see Tyson the next morning at brunch with JT and Sydney, his strong, muscular thighs touching yours in the small booth. You get some fancy french toast, Sydney eyeing you from where she sits across from you. She’s been a close friend of yours ever since JT introduced the two of you whenever she first visited. Her eyes keep flicking between you and Tyson and you give her a stern look, silently telling her to knock it off.

“So, y/n,” she starts, a smirk forming on her lips. “How’s the dating life?”

You scoff with a laugh at her question. She knows well enough how that aspect of your life is doing considering you text her on a pretty regular basis. You choose not to answer, the scoff you let out being enough. 

“Besides, no guy is good enough for her, right?” JT asks, looking over at you continuing his girlfriend’s train of thought. His eyes glance over at Tyson sitting next to you and Tyson ignores the look his teammate gives him. 

“You mean the idiots you always try to set me up with? The ones that don’t live in Denver?” You quip back with a raise of your eyebrows. It’s more of a joke than anything else, but Tyson doesn’t quite understand your tone and mannerisms yet.

His heartbeat speeds up momentarily, thinking that if you hadn’t had any interest in any of JT’s other friends, you definitely wouldn’t have an interest in him. Besides, he may live in Denver now, but that’s not even the whole year when you account for traveling and the offseason.

You miss it, but Tyson changes the subject anyways, which is something you’re grateful for. Brunch passes by and when the waitress comes back with two checks, you knit your eyebrows.

“Actually, could I have my own check? We aren’t together,” you stumble, cheeks heating up at the misinterpretation of yours and Tyson’s relationship.

Tyson takes the check from your outstretched hand, “it’s fine, I got it.”

He’s talking more to you than to the waitress as he smiles warmly at you. You thank him quickly, but not before saying you have enough cash to take care of the tip. He doesn’t argue, following the three of you out of the restaurant and to your car. The two of you linger a little further back than JT and Sydney, both of you reveling in the comfortable silence. 

“Do you have any plans for the rest of the day?” You ask.

“Not really, I was probably gonna call my mom and maybe do my laundry,” Tyson answers.

“Do you want to come over and hang out instead? I’m just gonna third wheel the two of them but maybe we can find something to do that’s more interesting than laundry.”

Tyson laughs at the third wheeling comment you make, being all too familiar with being the third wheel around most of his friends. “Sure, yeah, I’ll just follow you all then?”

“That sounds good. I’ll see you in a few,” you say goodbye with a smile and a shy wave, hopping into the backseat of JT’s SUV.

Once you get home, Tyson’s knocking on your door a few minutes later with the same warm smile he seems to always have. He sheds his winter coat as he enters your apartment, throwing it over the back of one of the kitchen chairs. He notes the change in clothes, as you’re now wearing an olive green crewneck instead of the wrap top with flowy sleeves you were wearing at the restaurant a few moments prior.

“You a big reader?” He asks, picking up and inspecting the book that’s laid out on the kitchen island. The Power of Now, it reads on the cover. He flips through the first few pages and goes to the back cover to read the reviews.

“Sometimes, it depends on what it is, but I usually just go through phases where I read in all of my free time and then I won’t touch a book again for the next few months,” you admit with a small laugh. “That one’s really good so far though. It’s just about how to live more presently and in the moment.”

Tyson nods his head as he listens, his eyes on you as you speak, “Cale really likes reading this kind of stuff, I should tell him about it.”

“Which one is Cale, again?” You ask, mentally going through the Colorado roster. 

This causes Tyson to laugh, “JT really doesn’t bring you around much, eh.”

You laugh along with him, “not really, but that’s on me sometimes. I go to bed too early for my own liking.”

Tyson’s confused as to why he’s never really seen you before at anything. Guys on the team are always bringing their friends around if they can. At first he thought he just always missed you, but he knows he wouldn’t miss someone as carefree and beautiful as you. Nevertheless, he’s glad he’s sitting in your kitchen right now, and to top it all off, he didn't even have to ask you to hang out first.

“Do you read at all?” You ask curiously. You really knew next to nothing about the man in front of you other than that he was Canadian, played hockey, and preferred Truly’s over White Claws (his favorite flavor was still to be unknown to you).

Tyson chokes out a laugh at your question, “No. When we travel I usually play random games with Sammy and he’s been teaching me French. I still don’t know much so don’t go asking me to say anything.”

“Duly noted,” you nod. You move to the pantry, looking for a few things as you continue to respond. “Like I said, my interest in reading comes in waves and you barely speaking French is better than me only knowing English.”

You continue rifling through your pantry, pulling out everything you know you need. You’ve just finished setting all of the dry ingredients you’d need to make brownies when Tyson asks you what the hell you’re doing.

“I was thinking we could make brownies,” you respond, opening your fridge and pulling out the milk, butter, and eggs. You hear the island chair scratch against the hardwood, indicating Tyson getting up.

“Wait a second,” Tyson says causing you to turn around with a confused look on your face. ���Are these the brownies Comph always bringing around that his friend makes?”

“They very much are,” you chuckle. He compliments the baked good one more time before you’re putting him to work. The two of you move seamlessly through your small kitchen, both of you sharing smiles and stories to fill the time. There’s a moment where you see a certain glimmer in his eyes paired with a small smirk and you think he’s about to pull one of his infamous Jost pranks that JT was always telling you about. He doesn’t though, and instead just nudges your hip with his. It seems like you’re looking more at him more than focusing on the flexing of his forearms as he mixes the dry ingredients.

Once it’s time to mix the dry and wet ingredients, Tyson all but misses half the bowl, causing a good chunk of it to land on your crewneck and jeans. The brown powder covered the ‘Disney World’ logo across your chest.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry,” Tyson rushes out, holding back a laugh, because of course he would embarrass himself in front of you and mess up something as simple as that. You move to the sink, shaking off the loose contents into it to help alleviate any sort of mess.

“You’re fine, I promise,” you reassure, turning around to give him a smile. He smiles nervously back at you, not fully knowing your statement was genuine or if you were trying to spare his feelings. He glanced at your chest, trying to see the damage he had done before realizing he was staring directly at your chest and his cheeks flushed. You walked back over to where he was standing, giving him another smile as you began mixing everything together. 

“Would you, uh, ever wanna grab dinner with me some time?” He asks, voice higher than normal as he speaks, his heart beating nervously for your answer. Your face falls as you hear the question and you slowly turn around to face the curly headed brunette. Tyson is a great guy, it’s obvious to everyone, and you’re not oblivious to the fact that there’s physical attraction between the two of you. It’s that Tyson is best friends with your best friend who also happens to be your neighbor.

You laugh nervously at the question, the question seemingly coming out of nowhere, before you respond, “Sure, it’s not like it’s a date or anything.” 

You brush it off, even though you’re pretty sure he was explicitly asking you out on a date. You turn your focus back to the brownies, popping them in the oven before wandering down your hallway to change into something clean. As Tyson walks over to take a seat on the couch, he sees your retreating figure as you pull your sweatshirt over your head. He stops in his tracks momentarily, seeing your bare back, the skin between your shoulder blades covered by your lacy bralette. He blinks a few too many times as he shakes any thoughts from his head and continues his path to the couch.

Your guys’ friendship quickly develops after that. The two of you starting a snapchat streak and having a long string of text messages involving various TikTok’s and memes alongside the more serious stuff. You seem to be spending more time at JT’s place when Tyson is also there and soon enough Tyson’s leaving JT’s and going the few extra feet to your place instead of home like he says he’s doing.

It’s one of those rare nights where it’s the three of you at JT’s place and you’re all catching up on the latest episode of Hell’s Kitchen. You’re pretty sure JT cheated and watched the new episode already with how quiet he’s being and how absorbed he is in his phone.

“JT, did you already fucking watch this?” You ask, whipping your head to look at the ginger in question. He’s sitting across the room from you in what he claims as ‘his chair’ while you’re sharing the sectional with Tyson, your feet in his lap. “And you wonder why I never watch shows with you. Tyson and I are going to start watching it without you.”

Tyson chuckles at that, his thighs rumbling under your ankles, his hands coming to rest atop of your shins. JT scoffs at you, unaware of your two’s newfound friendship. To him, the only time you ever saw or even talked to Tyson was when he was also around. Besides, he didn’t need to know the ins and outs of every single thing you did in a day, even if Tyson was involved in a good portion of those things.

You let JT’s previous actions of watching your show ahead slide since the episode was finally wrapping up. JT goes back to the Hulu home screen with an exaggerated yawn followed by stretching his arms above his head. It’s then he turns to his two best friends, letting them know he’s going to start heading to bed and that the two of you are more than welcome to hang out for a little while longer. He doesn’t think much of his offering, but it’s one Tyson’s thankful for if it means he gets uninterrupted time with you that isn’t revolving around the team or drinking.

It’s then he remembers how he never found you on social media, something that had bewildered him in the moment but one he forgot about once he got your phone number and snapchat. 

“So, this is gonna sound totally weird but do you have an Instagram?” He asks, infliction in his voice and ears turning pink at the question. He remembers how not too long ago he did some heavy duty deep dives into JT’s social media to see if he could find your name only to come up empty handed. Your stomach tightens and the thought of him looking for you, and you definitely don’t take it the weird way he’s insinuating.

“No, I don’t,” you respond, sitting up further in the corner of the couch, Tyson bravely holding onto your ankles. “Which definitely makes me the outlier of our generation. I had it for a while but then I kinda just got sick of it and how fake it was starting to get, so I deleted my account. I have not missed even once, too.”

He nods his head in understanding, he’s been there, especially with being a professional athlete. “I’ve been there. I deleted my twitter a while ago because every time I got on there some nobody would be in my notifications about how I was playing. I really didn’t need that, ya know? Like, I play hockey for a living and I’m very aware of when I’m underperforming. So, it was hard when I would get on my phone and see other people telling me the same things.”

Tyson’s fingers began to brush comfortably over your shins and ankles as he spoke, causing you to start slouching back into the couch. 

“I’ve gone back and forth with deleting Instagram but I just can’t seem to make a decision. Besides, I only follow my friends and musicians I like.”

“It’s definitely not for everyone,” you agree with a hum. “The biggest plus is that it gets me off my phone and I’m more absorbed with the real world. It’s all in that book I was reading a while ago that you asked about.”

Tyson remembers that conversation, a smile falling on his lips as he hands rub higher and higher on your calf. The movements are causing you to yawn not a minute later, but you try hard to keep your eyes open to continue to hang out with Tyson. “You a big music guy then?”

Tyson scoffs with a small, playful grip on your leg, “I get the aux in the locker room, so I’d say so. Not a big deal.”

You laugh at his joking manner, snuggling deeper into JT’s couch. Tyson notices how sleepy you’re becoming and he gives your leg another squeeze.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you home,” Tyson suggests as he slips from underneath you to his feet.

You chuckle at that, considering you're more than capable to walk the few feet from JT’s door to your own. Before you can respond saying just that, Tyson’s reaching his hand for yours to help you off the couch.

“My mom raised me to be a gentleman, so I’m walking you home even if it is down the hall.”

You accept his offer, the two of you walking in silence until you’re pushing your key into the lock. You turn back to Tyson once you’ve cracked your door open, wanting to take in the silent, all-too-relationship-like feeling this scenario is. Tyson’s eyes drift from where they’re focused on your eyes to your lips, before he’s scratching the back of his head, a sign of nervousness you’ve quickly caught on to.

“Goodnight, Tyson,” you smile softly, leaning up on your sock clad toes to wrap your arms around his neck and give him a hug. His arms wrap around your middle; his back bending over at an awkward angle to properly reach you. You breathe in his musky scent as his hands spread out over the small of your back. The scruffiness of his beard against the side of your face has you giggling as you pull away. 

“Goodnight, y/n,” Tyson reciprocates your smile, walking a few steps backwards before finally turning around and heading to the elevator. Your eyes linger on his toned thighs and maybe even his butt under the cotton of his joggers as he walks the all too familiar way hockey players walk, before finally entering your apartment.

JT’s sitting on your couch this time around, rather than you sitting on his, a too large glass of wine perched in his hand as the two of you catch up. He’s been busy with morning skates and a string of back-to-backs with a road game sprinkled in the middle. It’s getting to be that part of the season where it’s ‘all gas, no breaks’ as he likes to say. They had an earlier than normal game today due to it being a national broadcast on a Sunday, so the two of you ordered take out from one of your usual spots and parked your asses on your couch for the night.

“I feel like we haven’t had best friend time in so long,” JT groans, sipping down the remnants of his wine before standing up for a refill.

“Not all of us can travel the continent on a regular basis,” you chirp with a laugh, one JT matches. The tv show murmurs in the background, it’s one you completely forgot about as JT relates stories and updates on his sisters to you.

“I still can’t believe Jesse graduates soon,” JT starts. “Like, soon when we go to Boston it won’t be the annual family trip since two of the kids are actually in the same city for a change.”

“But that’s so awesome for her, you have to remember that. How’s her season going?”

“They’re doing good, winning games and taking names, she’s really stepped into her captaincy role.” The smile on JT’s face is contagious, causing you to mirror it. You had only met his family a handful of times, only whenever they made the trip out to Denver every now and then. His sister’s, even if you didn’t talk to them regularly, were like your own at this point. JT loved to joke that you were the third sister he never wanted but still somehow ended up with. It was part of the reason he was always trying to set you up with his friends, because to him, if he already knew them, then he knew he trusted them with you. It was more of a joke when it first started over a year ago, but the guy’s he mentioned started to become more serious considerations on your end before you ended up always telling him no.

You were more than okay with being single, being independent, being a woman that never looked for male validation and instead lived life purely for yourself and the people you choose to include with you in that life. JT understood that more than anyone else, that’s why the thoughts you consistently had about Tyson were being shoved deep down inside of you in fear that JT would laugh at the idea and tell you not a chance in hell. It’s why those times you caught each other staring you never did anything about it, or how JT was still unbeknownst to the close friendship you started with him.

It’s why now there’s a silence between the two of you as you take a too-long sip of your wine, a way to stall before opening your mouth and getting JT’s opinion on all of this. You set your glass down on your thigh, your spare hand running along the stem of the glass as you start to speak, avoiding looking over at JT as you do so,

“You know how I don’t date or whatever,” you start, your lip caught between your teeth. You glance over at the redhead on the other couch, seeing him knit his eyebrows as he sets his phone down next to him.

“Yeah,” he draws out, confusion laced in his tone

“Well, I was thinking of maybe getting back out there or something,” you shrug your shoulders, unsure of how to really continue this conversation so you end up on the topic of Tyson being that someone you get back out there with.

“Did someone ask you out?” JT immediately asks with a shake of his head, wondering where all of this is coming from. His full attention is on you now and there’s no way to avoid his eyes as you respond.

“No, I was just thinking about it, I don’t know.”

“Did you, like, have someone in mind?” JT asks, the definitive knit in his forehead still there.

You purse your lips in thought. This would be the time to drop his teammate’s name you think to yourself. His name is heavy on your tongue as you take one more sip of your drink, “Tyson’s kinda cute.”

You say it simply, with a shrug in your shoulders, hoping the ease of your posture radiates towards JT. It doesn’t, just as you expect, a choked out cackle leaving his lips, before he says a harsh ‘no’. The comment deflates you, the knot in your stomach only tightening, mainly because you weren’t really asking him a question and just trying to get that thought out into the open for the first time. JT doesn’t read that as you respond back, telling him was just a thought anyways.

You drop it at that, thoughts running through your head of your close friendship with his teammate, one that’s very close to blurring that line between just friends and something more. It's a problem for another day you think, shoving the thought to the back of your mind as Tyson’s name flashes across your phone screen.

A few more weeks pass of Tyson and you hanging out at JT’s apartment, only for Tyson to follow you to your own apartment before he’d leave for the rink for his game. He slowly began going through his pre-game routine at your place, only to leave with JT under the guise that they would carpool together since his apartment building was on his way to Ball Arena.

Tyson’s cooking his pregame meal in your kitchen, something he had yet to do but when you had told him you had never eaten squash the other day, he made a point to make it his favorite way, even if it meant eating dinner at 4:30. His game day suit was hanging by his coat in your coat closet, you wouldn’t tell him but it was your favorite suit of his. The navy cashmere made the highlights in his dark brown hair pop out and was a nice contrast to his tan skin. He was taking the squash out of the oven, laughing as you made yet another comment on not knowing that was how a squash was cooked.

“What does a squash even taste like?” You ask, peering over the kitchen table to watch him as he places the pan onto the oven to cool down. The bright yellow and oranges of the fruit freak you out a bit, but the smell of garlic and parmesan cheese brings a smile to your face.

“It’s like earthy and nutty, I don’t know. I’m not a Food Network chef.”

The comment has you rolling your eyes with a laugh as you stand up from your chair to retrieve plates and silverware. 

“What are you doing?” Tyson asks with a whip of his head as his eyes follow your movements.

You look at him quizzically, pausing your movements on your tippy toes as you reach for the dinner plates, “setting the table?”

“I can do that,” Tyson starts, reaching out for the plates in your hand and setting them on the counter in front of you. “I’m the one cooking.”

“Exactly,” you reason, “And this is my apartment so I know where everything is.”

“I’m wining and dining you, well minus the wine since I have a game.” Tyson shrugs, tending to the squash on the pan and the veggies surrounding it. “That reminds me, the guys are going out after the game, you should come.”

You move around the kitchen as he speaks, filling up two glasses of water to set on the table. He plates the food as he finishes speaking and sets them on the table. It looks colorful and delicious and you’re shocked he can cook something that seems so complicated, especially since you know JT can only cook a burger and some random pasta dish.

“Well, I am going to the game so I don’t see why not,” you finally answer. You hadn’t gone out in weeks it seemed like, mainly due to your earlier than normal mornings and that you were the only single one out of most of your friends. All of your coworkers lived with their partners and were usually the type to bail on a night out so they could stay home. The few single friends you did have lived on completely different schedules than you, so they were either getting home late from work which was around the same time you’d need to call it a night, or were like you and too worried about early mornings to do anything.

But it was a Thursday, and you had taken the weekend off so it was a perfect time to catch your first Avs game of the season, even if it was already a few days into March and the season was halfway over. The both of you eat your dinner with a few laughs, Tyson telling you about how he forced himself to learn to cook over the past two years of living by himself. He even shared a few horror stories of when he lived with JT and Kerf, giving you plenty of dirt to use as blackmail if necessary. 

“Dinner was really good, thank you,” you acknowledge standing up and grabbing his plate from him.

“You liked the squash, eh?”

“It wasn’t too bad,” you reply playfully. He knew you liked it with how quickly you scarfed it down and the profuse compliments you offered him. As you clear off the dishes and load the dishwasher, Tyson disappears down the hall only to reappear dressed in his suit, save for the jacket and tie. 

“Who are you sitting with tonight? I never asked.” Tyson speaks, making the job of tying his tie look easy as he’s not even looking in the mirror to do so.

“Oh, my coworker, Amelia, and her girlfriend, Gabby,” you respond, leaning back against the counter as you watch Tyson finish up with the details of his suit like putting his cufflinks on and checking his hair in the mirror by your front door.

For a reason Tyson knows too well but ignores, a weight falling off his shoulders as he hears you saying you’re not going with a potential date. But then again, he knows you’re not dating and you more than likely would’ve declined his offer to go out afterward if that were the case. Tyson checks his watch for the time, seeing it’s about time to knock on JT’s door to grab him.

“So, I’ll see you after the game, yeah?”

“Yep, I’ll meet you and JT down by the locker rooms so we can all head out together. Maybe I’ll finally get to meet the infamous Cale.”

The Avs scoot by with a tough division win, one that’s needed to put them in first place in the Central by two points. You’re standing in the hallway of the locker rooms among the other WAG’s that you don’t really recognize due to your lack of knowledge on who’s who. Your nose is buried deep in your phone as you shoot off a text to Amelia telling her to let you know when she gets home safely when you recognize Tyson’s familiar Canadian accent followed by JT’s booming laughter. The two of them reach you, both of them giving you quick hugs before walking to the parking garage.

“Who’s jersey you got on there?” Tyson asks with a nudge of his shoulder into yours. You look down at the 19 stitched into your shoulder with a smirk.

“Only the best Av to ever play the game,” you respond, to which JT rolls his eyes. Tyson’s look of confusion doesn’t change as you answer, still pretty keen to the fact that you’ve never really talked hockey with him besides the stories about practices he’d share with you. “Never told you I didn’t like hockey, just said I never went to games.”

“I’ve tried to get her one of my jerseys and she literally told me she’d return it,” JT interrupts before Tyson can respond. You open your mouth to chirp him back but before you can, JT is calling shotgun once Tyson’s car is in view.

The bar isn’t as packed as you thought it would be, given half of the Avalanche roster was occupying more than a few booths. Andre takes a seat across from where you’re sandwiched between JT and Tyson - a seating arrangement you’re not sure how you got in.

The first round of drinks slowly turns into the third, and you’re no longer squished between two bruly hockey players since JT has found a home at the pool table with Nate and Naz. You had finally met Cale, the blush on cheeks matching Tyson’s description of them. You shared book recommendations with one another while Tyson had wandered off to the bar. It’s then you learn that Tyson’s kind of taken him under his wing, despite the very small age gap and that they live in the same building. Your eyes catch him as he chats with the bartender and a dirty blonde that’s close to his height that you very much did not recognize.

She’s all legs and has an award winning smile from what you see from fifteen away. Tyson’s turned away from you, his back facing you, and if you could see his face filled with that smile that’s showing he’s just trying to be polite to the stranger.

It’s then that you start to fully allow yourself to notice not only the physical attraction you feel towards your new friend, but the emotional one as well. It’s not overwhelming by any means, but the pit in your stomach can only be described as jealousy — a feeling you don’t have much experience with. 

You see two new glasses being set in front of them at the same time, assuming that Tyson had bought the stranger a drink. That pit in your stomach only tightens, the smile on your face from Cale’s story falling as you continue to watch them interact. 

The pair only talk for a few minutes before the girl walks away, a defeated look on her face. With he departure, you make your way across the hardwood floor to meet him at the bar, nudging his side lightly as you mirrored his stance. He smiled as you greeted him, noting that this was the first time in hours he got you all to himself. You were just as outgoing as he and JT were, always butting into conversations when you had something to say. 

“I never asked if you had fun at the game,” he asks, voice somehow still soft even in the loudness of the bar. His voice raises goosebumps on your arms, as you hum before responding.

“It was fun, definitely a good game, just a little too much third wheeling for my liking but I’ll take what I can get.”

The comment is a nod to the feeling Tyson knows all too well, one the two of you seem to always share funny stories about with a dramatic use of eye rolls. You ignore the fact that not even a few minutes prior you were plotting that girl’s death, too busy and entranced with Tyson’s presence.

The night continues to pass with just the two of you in your own little world. You find yourself up on your tiptoes, an arm resting on his muscular bicep as you lean up to speak into his ear. His lips move alongside your temple as he speaks, the scruff of his beard against your forehead causing you to giggle. You’re not even sure if JT or any of the other guys are even still around, but your bubble pops as JT calls your name. You turn your body towards the ginger, your hand on Tyson’s bicep not moving as he says that you two should find an Uber soon.

“Okay, yeah, sure. I’ll be out in a sec, Tyson was just telling me a story,” you let him know. JT knits his eyebrows at the comment but walks outside with a few of the other guys all heading home.

“How are you getting home?” You ask Tyson once you’re face to face with him again.

“Cale and I are gonna Uber back, too,” Tyson answers, his tongue swiping over his lips slowly. Your eyes watch his movement as time seems to slow down as the two of you keep your eyes focused on the others. His eyes are squintier than normal from the alcohol and you’re yours match his in that regard. You’re pretty sure he’s about to kiss you and for once, you’re actually going to let that person kiss you.

Tyson’s eyes flick behind you momentarily before you see his body semi-deflate. He steps away, your hand falling off his bicep for the first time in at least an hour as he picks up his blazer that’s draped over the stool next to him and nods towards the door.

“I think JT’s looking for you.”

Sure enough when you turn around, JT is in the doorway waving his phone in the air and pointing at it, silently telling you that the Uber is almost here. Your shoulders fall as the moment you were sure was about to happen is ruined. Tyson walks you out of the bar, into the brisk start of Spring air. You’re too busy thinking about how you most definitely would’ve let Tyson kiss you and next thing you know, your foot is slipping on the ice and you’re yelping in surprise.

Tyson catches your waist before you can even hit the cold pavement, and again, you’ve found yourself in a compromising position as Tyson’s face is mere inches from yours. You blink away the embarrassment as JT’s comment about your almost accident goes unnoticed by the both of you. You regather your stance, muttering a quiet thank you to the brunette before hugging him and waving goodbye with a soft smile.

“Dude,” Cale chastises, “You like her don’t you?”

The comment made by his building-mate has him stuttering over his words, trying to figure out an answer that’s not a straight up lie. Cale takes that as his answer, though, rolling his eyes with a heavy sigh as the two find their Uber.

“Does JT know?”

“No, because nothing’s going to happen,” Tyson answers curtly as he slumps his shoulders in his seat. “JT told me I couldn't try anything and I’m going to try and respect that. Besides, she doesn’t date so it’s not like I have a real shot or anything.”

“I don’t know, man. She seemed to jump out of her seat and end our conversation when she saw you talking to that girl.”

Cale’s comment silences the two of them for the remainder of the ride back to their building. Tyson hadn’t really paid mind to the fact that the second that girl left, you had appeared and stayed by his side for the remainder of the night. He brushes it off, blaming his inebriated mind for the overthinking before asking Cale how they’ll get his car in the morning.

Tyson wakes up to his phone dinging with a string of texts from you, a smile on his face when sees your name across his screen.

y/n: not sure what you did to me last night but this is the most hungover ive been in forever y/n: thank god i dont have work y/n: jt is still sleeping so im thinking of ditching him to go get breakfast y/n: you in? Tyson: im down Tyson: do you think we could swing by to get my car from the bar too? was gonna have cale drive me but if you can that’d be great

Getting ready for breakfast feels all too real as you do your hair and pick out an outfit before finally brushing your teeth. You tap your fingers an obnoxious amount of times against your steering wheel as you drive to Tyson’s apartment, your lip stuck between your teeth as you softly sing along to the songs flowing through your speakers.

Sitting across from him in the diner feels a little bit suffocating, the events of last night replaying in your mind. The path your eyes follow tends to keep going to his lips before you realize what you’re doing and snapping them right back up to his eyes or to the coffee in your hand. Those lips you sure you were close to kissing last night. He orders some obnoxiously healthy omelette bowl with enough eggs and potatoes on it to feed a house of four, while you get classic french toast.

You don’t miss that opportunity to chirp him, the weight finally off your shoulders as you lighten the mood. Tyson never really caught onto your weirdness, thinking it was some side effect of your hangover. 

“Is french toast your favorite food or something?” Tyson asks, mouth a little full as he finishes chewing. You knit your eyebrows in confusion, partly because yes, it is your favorite breakfast food, but why would he think that if he’s only ever seen you eat it right now in this very moment? He sees your confusion, answering your question before you can even ask it.

“You got french toast that one time we went out with JT and Sydney.”

“Oh, it is, actually,” it dawns on you then, even though that morning was over a month ago at this point. It’s sweet that he remembers that, your neck warming at his comment.

“It’s not a big deal,” Tyson shrugs, shoving another forkful of egg into his mouth. And shit, did you actually say that out loud to him? That misstep has your neck heating up even further as you take a large swig of your coffee, mainly so the large mug blocks your face from him.

“Besides,” Tyson starts with a heavy laugh. “You just about inhaled that from what I remember, so it has to be your favorite.”

You drop your jaw in shock from his very true accusation, a slight laugh coming out, “You’re a dick.”

“Hey, at least I’m a dick that paid for your meal,” Tyson acknowledges in a lighthearted tone. You smile at him at that, him sending you one right back. “And before you say you can pay for this one, this is that meal I promised you a while back when we made brownies.”

It dawns on you then, was this a date? Did you accidentally on purpose ask Tyson out on a date? Tyson can sense the wheels turning in your head and drops that topic, instead telling you all about this new artist he’s found on Spotify.

That day’s a turning point for your relationship with Tyson. You end up following him back to his place then, a strange sense of deja vu coming through. The rest of the day is spent shaking your respected hangovers on his couch, your feet perched on his lap, his body naturally leaning towards yours.

Your head’s full of what ifs as you drive the short way back to your apartment, thoughts surrounding the feelings you’ve been ignoring when it comes to why Tyson looks at you the way he does or why he’s always sending you Tik Tok’s about your newfound inside jokes. Your friendship with him is easy, he’s an easy guy to catch feelings for and an even easier guy to fully allow yourself to do that with.

The thought of your friendship with JT clouds your thoughts, though. Unsure of what you should even do considering how quickly he shot you down when all you said was that his friend was cute. You don’t think much of it, knowing that the feelings that are starting to show need to be reciprocated for you to even face that next set of problems.

Soon you’re catching yourself focusing on the number 17 jersey skating around the ice instead of 37 when you have the time to watch their games. Tyson’s eyes are the ones you’re always finding in a room and he’s the one always refilling your drink without a thought. He’s the one you text after a particularly rough day, and he does the same when the Avs snap their eight game winning record. He’s slowly taking that spot as your best friend over from his teammate, a spot you’re sure is slowly turning into more.

It’s another one of those nights where he’s the one you're constantly looking for. This time back at Andre’s apartment with the guys and few significant others as you celebrate yet another Avalanche playoff berth.

You’re drinking far less than the crowd surrounding you, fully buzzed on the atmosphere that is clinching the number one seed in the division with still so much time left in the season. Unlike the group of people that have the day off the next day, you have work, but the thought of missing this night for your two best friend’s wasn’t an option when Tyson texted you as soon as he made it to the locker room after the game was won. Tyson’s hand seems to never be empty, but you soon learn he’s been nursing the same beer since he got to Andre’s. There’s a heavy feeling of contentment washing over him as he celebrates his fourth straight playoff appearance, alongside setting a Central Division record for the fastest team to clinch.

The air between you two has that same fuzzy feeling it’s had for a few weeks now, ever since you had gone out to breakfast with him hungover. The high from the win still filling his veins, that same high radiating towards you as you continually find your way back to his side throughout the night.

Tyson catches you slipping out the door as the sun is just about finished setting and follows you a moment later. You’re leaning against the railing with your arms folded atop of it. It’s the easiest thing in the world for Tyson to step in behind you and place his hands on either side of yours, bracketing you against the cool metal. 

The wind blows through your hair, causing you to push some strands back behind your ears as you breathe heavily with Tyson’s new presence.

“You doing alright out here?”’ Tyson asks, one of his laying to rest on top of yours, you fingers interlocking with his.

“Yeah, just wanted to take advantage of Andre’s view,” you respond. Andre’s place had everything, the view of downtown Denver, the suburbs stretching outside of the skyscrapers, but he also had the best view of the mountains you had seen from a complex downtown.

The silence continues between the two of you, the sound of the Denver traffic beneath you filling it out. Tyson’s chest moves behind you with a heavy breath before breaking that silence,

“I talked to my mom this morning.”

“Yeah? How is she?”

“She’s good, but, uh, I called her to tell her about this girl,” he trails off, his chest inflating behind you again as the nerves start to tighten in his stomach. You remain silent, there’s an unspoken understanding that this is something he’s been wanting to get off his chest, something that you too feel the weight of.

“I wanted to tell her about this girl and ask her for advice because it’s complicated since she’s best friends with my best friend who’s also my teammate and I didn’t know if I should put my feelings aside for the sake of my friendship or if I shouldn’t let my friend telling me I couldn’t ask her out stand in the way of my feelings for her.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, the sudden knowledge of the weight his words have. His grip around you had tightened as he spoke, causing you to turn around in his arms slower than you would’ve liked to as your eyes find his. His hands move from the railing to rest on your hips, his grip a little tight yet still soft. Your fingers toy with the hem of his cotton t-shirt, one that accentuates his arms more than you’d like to admit.

You’re not naive, you know that this is that tipping point in your friendship that you’ve been avoiding, yet at the same time anxiously waiting for. He’s right there in front of you, all wide eyed with that playful little glimmer in his eyes and that smile that’s always plastered on his face when he’s with you. It’s the confidence in his smile as he speaks that contradicts the doubt in his eyes and the understanding he has where he knows he needs to take this all slow. He’s not just trying to win you over or get you to bed, he’s trying to show you that he’s what you deserve, that the feelings brewing inside your stomach are two sided.

All of those things are conveyed in the little things and how he hasn’t made any unwarranted moves on you and how he’s always reading the situation before trying anything.

It makes you truly let the feelings you have bubble to the surface as you open your mouth to finally respond, “I don’t think you should ignore your feelings.”

It comes out as a whisper, one where the breaths of air hit Tyson in the chin from how close you two are standing. Nothing else needs to be said, your heart racing in your chest at that first admittance of feelings. Tyson searches your eyes for any sense of doubt, making sure he’s interpreting your words correctly. His hand moves to the junction of your neck, his thumb brushing against the hollow of your cheek. Your hands trail up his sides, brushing the stray curl that’s fallen onto his forehead back in place. He leans into your touch, his nose softly brushing against yours as you close your eyes. His breath fans over your mouth and the hair on his upper lip tickles you before his lips are landing on yours. It’s slow and soft and full of fire as you kiss him back.

You pull apart breathless a few moments later, a smile on your face as you bite your lip. His smile is wider than yours, a sense of smugness behind it. His lips find their way to your forehead, placing a soft, lingering kiss there as he wraps his arms around your body and pulls you tightly to him. A few more heavy breaths are shared before his fingers trail back to your jaw, his thumb running over your bottom lip before pulling you in for another kiss.

His touches are welcome and the chill you felt earlier is gone with his presence, your stomach tightening in a million knots at the man standing before you. Everything he feels is portrayed in his soft eyes and those several moments over the past couple of months where it was just the two of you, getting to know one another much more than you thought you ever would with one of JT’s teammates. The space he gave you as he let you explain your fascination with living the life you did, one with no obsession with social media or what other people thought and one where you carefully curated the people you choose to surround yourself with.

Tyson had slowly worked his way into your heart, one that now had his name written all over it. You smile at the thought, still lost in chocolatey, brown eyes and the way he’s looking at you like the gorgeous view of the Smoky Mountains isn’t right behind you.

“We should go back inside,” you say, breaking the little bubble the two of you had just created. Tyson understands, knowing where the two of you were, knowing who’s just on the other side of the door. Neither of you make any moves to go back inside, and you bask in the cool weather, enjoying the other’s warmth before finally opening the door to the rowdiness that is a bunch of professional hockey players.

JT beckons for you when he sees you come back inside, too drunk to ask where you’ve been for the past fifteen minutes. He’s dragging you to the kitchen, begging you with his eyes to make the room a round of drinks. Tyson smiles at you from a few feet away, silently telling you he’ll find you eventually. He does, making his way to you when everyone’s drink needs are met, his presence causing your stomach to tighten even if he is standing a few feet away from you. 

Both of you lay off the drinks for the rest of the night, already tipsy enough from your drinks earlier and in a silent agreement that there’s more to talk about between the two of you once the crowd thins and everyone's on their way home. JT disappears into thin air it seems like until he’s practically yelling that he’s called an Uber for you two.

“I think I’m actually gonna stay for a little longer,” you answer, eyes drifting over to where Tyson is talking with Cale and Andre. He sees you glance over at him, sending a smile right back your way causing you to blush before telling JT he’s fine to head home and that you’ll text him when you get home.

The room starts to clear out after that, Andre’s front door opening and closing every few minutes as Uber’s are called and before you know it you’re in the back of a Kia Sorento, laughing at the lie Tyson told Cale that led to him getting an Uber by himself and your hands tightly intertwined on your lap.

You find out a few months later that he didn’t lie, he just told him that he had finally gotten the nerve to kiss you.

The elevator ride up to his apartment is full of giggles, those giggles only continuing as he fumbles through unlocking his front door. He tells you to stop making fun of him under his breath, a blush spreading from the tips of his ears to his nose.

He’s pulling you inside once the door is unlocked, causing you to lose your balance from the pull. Your laughs quiet down as he stares down at you, that smile you're familiar with nowhere to be found as he licks his lips. He’s pulling you in with those big, brown eyes of his and then you’re kissing him wildly, barely a few feet into his home.

“We should talk about this,” you mutter against his lips, not fully wanting to break away from him. He’s connecting your lips before you can continue, too addicted to the feeling of finally having his lips on yours.

“What is there to talk about?”

“Us, what this is,” you respond between kisses.

Tyson pulls away this time, resting his forehead against yours. He knows the logistics of all of this needs to be worked out, but right now he doesn’t want to think about how he’s making out with JT’s neighbor or his inevitable murder if JT finds out before one of you can tell him.

“Let’s worry about the consequences tomorrow, because right now I can’t keep my hands off of you,” he reasons, dipping his head down to place his lips right below your jaw. “And if the way you’re kissing me is any sign, then I’d say we’re on the same page about how we feel.”

You moan as Tyson’s teeth nip at the skin, his tongue poking past his lips out onto your neck and goosebumps are popping up all along your skin.

You give into him then, too intoxicated in his warmth and the taste of Bud Light on his mouth. It’s a conversation for you in the morning when you’re both nursing your hangovers over a cup of coffee. Your lips move along his hungrily, his hands gripping your face before sliding down your sides and squeezing your ass through your jeans. You tug your fingers through the long curls behind his ears, him pushing you against the nearest wall with a thud and a rattle of a picture frame.

Your lips move along his softly, the passion and fire laced in it enough to cause a wave of electricity through your veins and down to in between your thighs. He’s towering over you with his big personality and his wide shoulders and you feel like you need to get impossibly closer to him as you pull him in by the fabric of his t-shirt. His hands fall to the wall on either side of your head.

“God, I’m never gonna stop kissing you,” Tyson huffs out, causing a quick chuckle to run through your body. It’s quick because as soon as the words are out of Tyson’s mouth, his lips are already back on yours.

“You’re gonna have to stop kissing me if you want to fuck me,” you mutter out, a sly smirk on your lips as you watch Tyson’s eyes grow darker at the insuination. The hands that were bracketing you against the wall slide down to your jaw, his thumb running over your bottom lip again before pushing past your lips. You keep your eyes on his as you suck on the digit, your tongue swirling around it. His resolve slips away from you for a moment, before his other hand drags down your side until his fingers push under your top, the warm fingers ghosting over the skin of your ribs.

His breath is heavy against you, the growing bulge causing his jeans to tighten around him. You’re feeling bold then, as you feel him against your stomach with his thumb still in your mouth and his hand tight around your jaw. He’s frozen in front of you as he watches your eyes, that stupid smirk finally wiped off his face as your hands move under his shirt, your nails scraping against the tight muscles. You hold back both a comment about his abs and a moan at the feeling, all the hard work he’s put into his body clearly paying off as you push his shirt up his chest and over his head.

Your nails drag back down his chest and torso before looping in the waistband of the boxers peeking out from his jeans. His thumb falls from your mouth, the wet digit leaving a trail of your saliva on your chin as you work on pulling his jeans down. His head tips back with a low groan as his member springs free and you sink down to your knees, his hand finding purchase on the back of your head while the other is used to brace himself against the wall.

Tyson sucks in a breath as your hand reaches out to grip the base of his cock, tugging softly a few times as you lick the tip. His mouth waters at the sight of your lips wrapping around the head, your eyes looking right back up at him. You hum around him as you swallow him down, the vibrations causing a groan to escape from Tyson’s mouth. He feels euphoric, even if you haven’t had your mouth on him for more than 60 seconds. His hips involuntarily thrust forward at the wet feeling your mouth gives as you hollow your cheeks around him. 

Tyson continued to moan above you as you moved your mouth along him, both of your hands digging into the flesh of his thighs. Tyson’s hand is heavy on the back of your head, not using it to push you deeper onto him, but to ground him as he starts to see stars embarrassingly fast in his eyes.

He pulls you off him then, pulling you up to your feet to stand in front of him once again. There’s a dribble of saliva mixed with his pre-cum on your chin and he wipes it away with his thumb before pulling you in for another harsh kiss. He pushes the two of them to his bedroom, never breaking the kiss as he sheds your shirt and pushes you down onto his bed. You giggle again, the hunger in his eyes all too real as he crawls over your body until he’s hovering over you.

“You’re so fucking beautfiul,” he whispers into your ear, causing shivers to shoot down your body. He runs his hands along your bare sides up to your breasts as he kisses down your neck. His hands brush along your lace covered nipples, making you sharply inhale a breath and arch your back against him. He pulls the fabric down to expose your breasts, his lips still nipping at the skin on your collarbone. He looks down at you again, a sensual look in his eyes that you mirror. His lips attach to one of your nipples, the other being tended to by his fingers as twists and pulls the bud between his thumb and forefinger.

Your hands find purchase in the curls atop his head, pulling at the strands as he breathes a huff of cool air onto your npple before switching to the other one. He makes his way down your body painfully slow, a trail of kisses being left down your stomach until he reaches the waistband of your jeans. He tugs them off just as quickly as he stripped you from your shirt, his eyes locking on the sage green thong you’re wearing and the very obvious wet patch between your legs. He’s impatient from the brief blowjob you gave him and the fact that he’s been imaging this exact moment for far too long now. His fingers dip into the strap of your underwear, his eyes finding yours and asking if this is okay. You respond with a resounding yes as he pulls the underwear off of you.

His lips leave kisses along your thighs, throwing them over his shoulders as his mouth finally makes his way to your center. His beard is rough against the skin of your thighs, a sensation only causing you to whine as he breathes over your clit.

“Tyson,” you whine, causing him to smirk before pressing his tongue to your entrance. The cool, wetness of his tongue has you catching your breath and fisting the sheets underneath you. Tyson moaned against you at the taste as he licked over you a few more times. His lips wrap around your clit, this time causing a full, throaty moan to release from your mouth. One of your hands found its way to his head, holding him impossibly closer to you, the other finding his hand as he interlocks your fingers together.

His tongue dives into your opening, fucking into you as his other arm wraps around your thigh so he can rub his thumb at your clit. His tongue licked around you entrance, alternating between that and fucking into you. His thumb stayed on your clit, rubbing circles hoping to get you to that tipping point, the one you felt nearing with every pass of his tongue over you. Your back arched off the bed, your hips pushing further into Tyson’s face as you felt your high near. Tyson continued at the same pace, pushing you over the edge as you moaned out his name.

He continued to lick softly at you, his thumb slowing down on your clit as he lifted his head up to kiss at your collarbone. The kisses he leaves along your inner thighs gives you time to catch your breathing, your chest still heaving from your orgasm. It’s short lived as his thumb on your clit slides down to your entrance, spreading your wetness around before pushing a finger into you. 

His lips make their way back to your clit with the same smirk he had on his face a few minutes ago, wrapping his lips around the bud as he moves he added another finger. You clench down him at the feeling, moans and heavy breaths of air escaping your mouth as Tyson worked his fingers against your g-spot and his mouth worked over your clit. Your hand squeezes his, the pressure becoming too much so soon after your first orgasm. It doesn’t take long for you to groan out his name again as you clench down on his fingers, your second orgasm rushing through you.

He stays down there a moment longer, but you pull him up by his hair, just wanting his lips on yours and his body hovering over you. His beard is wet from both his spit and your juices, and it has you licking your lips and craning your neck upwards. You pull him in with both of your hands, licking into his mouth and tasting yourself on him.

The kiss is heavy, his hands running along your body trying to memorize every dip and curve, the heavy weight of his member on your hip. His curls tickled your forehead, the kiss turning soft as he splayed a hand on your cheek to pull you in tighter. The head of his dick brushed over your mound, a shiver running through you at the feelings, your hips bucking up towards his with a small whine.

You reach your hand down between your bodies to tug on him softly, a whine leaving Tyson’s lips, one that’s swallowed by your kisses. It’s unspoken between the two of you as pulls away from you, only to push your hand away from him and give himself a few tugs as he settles heavily between your thighs.

You share a look, one that’s gleeful and full of smiles as he licks his lips and slowly pushes into you. You moan and whimper at the feeling of him inside of you, your hands clawing at his shoulder blades to pull his body flush against your own.

“You good?” He asks, referring to if you’re ready for him to start moving.

“Yeah,” you whine, looking into his eyes smiling, “I’m good.”

There’s a pause as you answer, both of you understanding the double-meaning behind your answer. It’s more than just telling him you feel good physically, but that you feel more than that when he’s with you.

He leans in to kiss you again, starting a slow pace as he thrusts into you. He moaned out at how tight you were, how well you were taking him as he kissed you. He picked up his pace, thrusting into you harder and faster, with more purpose as he rested on his elbows above you, looking into your eyes. You always got lost in those eyes of his, as he hit your g-spot you tilted your head back, your eyes fluttering closed. They weren’t closed for long as Tyson grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him once again.

“I wanna look at you,” he muttered as he leaned back down to kiss you. Your moans filled the room as the layer of sweat started to thicken on your bodies, his chest rubbing against yours. He lifted your thigh and pushed it against your chest, the new angle causing the knots to tighten in your stomach as you felt you high nearing. Your lips found their way to his neck and down to the dips of his collarbone. Biting down into the flesh as you moan out again, Tyson’s pace quickening as he feels you clenching around him.

“I’m so close,” you moan out, Tyson hitting you deeply. He could feel himself getting close too, his hips starting to stutter as he moved inside of you. Your breasts bouncing as he pounds into you, your eyes screwing shut as your orgasm starts to wash over you. Tyson swallows your moans as he kisses you through your third orgasm.

His breaths are heavy as his orgasm comes soon after yours, spilling into you as he slows his pace down and gently lowers his body weight onto yours. You two stay like that for a few moments, catching your breaths and basking in that post-sex afterglow. He removes himself once you’ve both settled, a whimper leaving your mouth at the newfound emptiness. He disappears to his bathroom, coming right back with a washcloth as he cleans you up. You thank him as he runs the cool, wet cloth over the insides of your thighs, pulling him back for another quick kiss before he disappears into the bathroom once more.

When he gets back, he lays down next to you, pulling your body snug against his. His chest is warm and still a little sticky from the sweat. Your fingers draw aimless patterns along his bare chest, his lips leaving a soft kiss on your forehead and you feel the upturn of his lips when he pulls away. You smile up at him then, leaning up and puckering your lips, asking for a kiss. He obliges with a soft hum and rubs your arm gently before you’re falling asleep against him, a few drops of drool falling onto his chest.

The morning rolls around too quickly for your liking, the curls on Tyson’s head ticking the back of your neck. Neither of you are in a rush to move as he smiles against the bare skin of your back, a few kisses being placed there as you hum and hold his arms tighter to your torso. He’s up from bed moments later, a sweet kiss lingering on your lips as you watch his naked form emerge from bed and pull on a pair of sweats. Your eyes watch over the ripples of muscles between his shoulder blades, down his back and over his ass before he’s running around his apartment in search of your thong.

He remerges with it draped over his finger, a smirk on his lips before he flings it at you, causing a giggle to erupt from your stomach. You pull them on, a large t-shirt being tossed your way to drape over your shoulders. You follow him out to his kitchen then, a small pit in your stomach at the realization of the conversation that needs to be had, the small bubble you’re in at its popping point.

You jump onto his island counter, the coolness of the granite sending shivers down your bare legs, his back to you as he starts the coffee pot. He’s just in a pair of sweats, bright red lines on display on his back. You squeeze your legs together as you cross them, the actions of your late night antics running vividly through your mind.

He presses the warm mug into your hands, his now free hand pushing open your legs to step between them. He’s so close then, probably the closest you’ve really been to him with a sober brain. The heat from his torso radiates towards you, warming not only your skin but your insides as well as you smile at him. He’s still got that wide, goofy smile plastered on his face, the one you’ve grown to love and to look forward to seeing.

Tyson’s hands move to rest on the counter on either side of you, the close proximity between your faces causes you to set your mug down and move your hands to his shoulders.

“What’s going through your mind, pretty girl?” The new pet name has you mentally squealing, your chest tightening as your cheeks heat up.

“Just how last night I was so adamant to talk about everything, but now I’m not so sure I want to break our little bubble,” you start, the huff of breath air coming out softly as you avoid his eye contact, even if he is a few inches away from your face.

It’s hard to concentrate on relaying your feelings to him and fully opening up to a man for the first time in a long time with him standing right there in front of you, in all his shirtless glory — the defined lines of his pecs and abs, the veins protruding from his arms, and the few purple bruises you’d left on the dips of his collarbones. It’s always been hard to think straight around him, you realize, with the way his presence gives you a comforting buzz and that warm, fuzzy feeling in your stomach.

Tyson’s quiet as he watches over you, he licks his lips in thought, a silent hum of agreement coming out. He’s in the exact same boat, the outcome of this conversation not one he’s too scared of, knowing that the way he feels is reciprocated, but rather what the next step is with the best friend you two share. He’s leaning closer into you, a small smile as he places another soft kiss on your lips. It’s one you get lost in, gentle and blissful as your lips move slowly against his. He pulls away first, something he wasn’t able to do last night, before finally being able to put his thoughts into words.

“I just want to make sure we’re on the same page with this. We’re taking a big risk doing this behind JT’s back and I want you to know, no matter what, the risk is worth it with you,” he starts, voice soft and still scratchy from the morning. “And I know you don’t date because you put yourself first and if that’s what you want to do then I’m okay with that, too.”

Your heart melts at the words, your hands cradling his face. Tyson’s always been better with words and feelings than you have over your short friendship with him. The metaphorical door is already wide open in front of you, it’s just a matter of taking that one more small step through it with Tyson, or shutting it and never turning back.

“I don’t date because most people don’t like having independent girls as their girlfriend’s. I put time into myself to be the best person I can be, not only for myself but for others and they don’t like that stuff,” you start to explain, your hands falling from his face to hold both of his hands. “I like you, a lot, Tys, and I want to be with you.”

He smiles wildly at that, the doubt draining from his eyes as he opens his mouth to respond.

You interrupt him though, with a huff of air as you continue speaking, “But JT’s my best friend and I don’t want to hurt him either.”

And Tyson fully understands where you’re coming from, because he’s been struggling with that for the past few months ever since he met you. He thinks back to that conversation on the plane all that time ago and how JT firmly told him to not try anything, but now as he really thinks about it, he’s not sure he meant it because of him and that it was more so because he cared for you and didn’t want to see you get hurt in general.

You can see in his eyes that same wide open door you’re thinking about, the one where you get to explore a relationship with the quirky, optimistic, competitive guy in front of you. The guy that matches your level of confidence as you, the guy that lets you be stubborn and lets you live out that stubbornness because he’s the most patient person you’ve ever met.

The decision’s easy as he stands in front of you, putting the ball in your court, your lip caught between your teeth. He’s waiting for you then, waiting for you to walk through that door or close it and walk out of his apartment. He’s hopeful, knowing that last night wasn’t a fluke and that all the kisses you’ve already shared are real and full of passion and those feelings you’ve been dancing around.

That’s when you give in, wrapping your legs around his torso and pulling him into you with that toothy smile of yours as you place your lips on his hungrily. It’s a kiss full of teeth as he smiles against you, his hands coming to cradle your face as you kiss. It’s much more addicting now that you’re sober and you fully agree with Tyson’s comment from last night about how he’s never going to want to stop kissing you.

You decide later that day that there’s no rush in telling JT, instead opting to see how things go between the two of you for a few weeks. Those two weeks are full of plenty of quality time, a coincidental home stand falling during that time meaning you get him to yourself before facing the reality that is how much he travels. You’re sure you can handle everything the new relationship can throw at you, the honeymoon phase lasting long as the two of you skirt around how you’ll tell JT whenever that time comes.

“I need to leave now if I want to leave for the rink and not see JT,” Tyson warns, prying away from your warm body in bed. You whined in response, wanting to have his warmth for just a little while longer. You let him escape from your grasp, only after asking for one too many kisses. You follow him out into your kitchen, watching him as he pulls on his shoes and finds his keys.

“You sure I can’t get you to stay for at least a cup of coffee?” You muse, giving it one more shot to spend time with him before your work week starts. You make your way to where he’s lingering in your entryway, looking extra cozy with his hood over his messy head of curls. You wrap your arms around his middle, slipping your hands under the cotton of his hoodie to feel his skin against yours. 

He leans down to place a soft kiss on your lips, giggling when you follow him as he pulls away, “I really need to get going.”

“Fine,” you hum. “I’ll see you when you get back from Dallas?”

Tyson nods his head with a hum in answer, finally pulling open your front door to get to his car downstairs in the garage without running into JT. But luck isn’t on his side this morning and he gives you one more goodbye hug and kiss in the doorway before shutting the door behind him and coming face to face with a certain redheaded teammate a few feet down.

JT’s eyebrows are knitted as he takes his key out of the lock. His mouth opens a few times in confusion before any words come out. “What was that?”

Tyson doesn’t think he’s ever been at such a loss for words as he is right now. He looks between the door he just shut and his friend a few times, trying to wrap his brain around what this scene looks like. It’s not even 8:30 in the morning on Sunday, and to anyone, this looks like the start of a walk of shame.

“Uh, y/n and I were hanging out and we fell asleep so she let me sleep in her guest room,” Tyson lies. He hopes it’s convincing, his voice didn’t waver but his hands flailed around a little more than normal when he talks and he scratched his beard, something he always does when he’s nervous.

“I’m pretty sure I just saw you kiss her,” JT explains, voice stern as he completely turns to look at Tyson. “And you don’t just kiss people goodbye.”

Tyson stumbles over an explanation for that, no logical reason coming to mind.

“You were just kissing y/n!” JT exclaims, a rise in his voice as he starts to fill in the blanks. Now he’s starting to connect the dots of your tendency to bail on him on the nights you’d normally hang out and Tyson’s lack of interest in guys’ night or after game celebrations with the team. The giggling he would hear through the wall late at night, the girly squeals, and the few times he remembered hearing the bedpost hit against your shared wall a little too hard for his liking. “You just fucking kissed my best friend after I told you to not get involved with her!”

Tyson moves to close the distance between him and his best friend, but JT takes one back, effectively cancelling it out. Tyson’s opening and closing his mouth, trying to figure out the best course of action for this premature conversation. The two of you had just figured everything out in the past few days, telling JT about your newfound relationship hadn’t even come up in conversation yet.

“How long has this been going on for?”

“Barely two weeks,” Tyson stutters out, watching as JT’s face fills with more anger. “Comph, just let me explain,” he tries again, but JT just shakes his head and heads for the doorway for the stairwell instead of the elevator. It’s a huge flight of stairs given that he lives on the 11th floor of the building. He wants to follow his friend, but knows that space is what he needs and instead presses the button for the elevator and gets in, leaving him alone in his thoughts.

When he meets up with him at the rink, JT’s still avoiding him which is hard considering their stalls are only separated by one other in the locker room. Cale hadn’t even made it to the rink yet, so someone wasn’t even there to put up a wall between the two. Gabe takes notice as he walks around the room after taping his ankles, his eyebrows knitting at the fact that Tyson, who’s normally cheery even this early in the morning and bugging JT, is putting on his pads and skates with his mouth shut. 

It’s something Gabe puts in the back of his mind, just thinking that Tyson had a rough night or morning. It’s during morning skate that Gabe, and almost everyone else, notices something is off between the pair. JT doesn’t chirp him like normal when they take face-offs against one another, he’s not by his side in between drills, and JT sticks his stick out a little too far during a one-on-one, sending Tyson to the ice during a drill that no one should be falling during. Bednar thinks nothing of it, just telling Tyson to stay on his two feet. 

Practice eventually ends but the silent treatment between the two continues. JT’s uncharacteristically quiet to everyone that talks to him, something clearly on his mind. Meanwhile Tyson’s nerves are causing him to not shut up as Cale shares a story about his rough commute this morning.

As Tyson and Cale quiet down, Gabe steps in, pointing between the two of them, “What’s up with you two today?”

“Nothing,” Tyson lies quickly, not wanting anyone else to get involved in this. Even if their captain is just trying to help, Tyson’s not sure there’s anything Gabe can say to help. 

JT scoffs, tying his shoes before standing up, “He’s fucking my best friend.” Cale, who was taking him leisurely time with getting dressed suddenly stands up and crosses the room to where Gravy was, avoiding any possible conflict.

Gabe’s eyes pop out of his head as Tyson responds, “we’re not fucking.”

“So the banging into my wall last night wasn’t you?” JT asks in an accusatory tone.

“Well, we’re not like,” Tyson starts, gesturing his hands in front of his body in a way to finish that sentence, soon realizing he doesn’t want to add fuel to fire by saying he was in fact fucking his best friend last night. “It’s not just that, we’re together.”

Gabe, who thought this was probably a misunderstanding of one of Tyson’s pranks or even just JT not winning a stupid bet, is just as shocked as JT was a few hours agao when he saw two of his best friends kissing. The captain isn’t entirely sure of how to navigate this situation, one that hasn’t really happened in any of his locker rooms. He doesn’t have much else to say to the two of them other than to figure it out and that a girl shouldn’t get between two friends that are as close as they are.

With that, Tyson’s trying to apologize to JT, tell him that there’s more to the story but JT wants nothing of it, and is throwing his jacket on and running out the door. Everything in Tyson’s being wants to follow him back to his place and beg for him to hear him out, but instead he’s racing back to your place, ignoring the fact that he still has to pack for their quick road trip.

Tyson all about sprints up the 11 flights of stairs to your door, knocking on your door with urgency until the door swings open. You move to the side as you let him in, clearly seeing how frantic he is with his flushed cheeks and the excessive knocking.

“JT saw me leave this morning,” Tyson lets out, a little out of breath from his run up the stairs. Tyson’s waiting for you to respond but you’re still not getting it. “He saw me kiss you goodbye and then didn’t talk to me all practice then when Landy confronted us he was just like ‘Tyson’s fucking my best friend’ and I tried to explain but-”

“Tys,” you interrupt his rambling, taking a step forward to reach out to him. Your hands grab his in an attempt to ground him, your thumbs rubbing back and forth on the back of his hands. “It’ll be okay.”

“He literally tripped me in practice today!”

“That’s because he can be a petty asshole. He doesn’t hate you, he probably just feels betrayed because he didn't know any of this was going on.” You try to console him, pushing all of your anxieties and paranoia aside to deal with the panicking boy in front of you.

“Let me talk to him, you need to go home and pack for your road trip since I know you haven’t yet.”

“But,”

“I’ll come over right after and update you, I promise.”

WIth that, Tyson kisses you goodbye as you push him to the elevator with a promise that everything is going to be okay before giving yourself a pep talk and bursting into JT’s apartment next to yours.

He spots you before you can greet him and you can see quite a few different feelings crossing over his face.

“Oh, God, are you here to also tell me that you’re not just fucking my best friend, too?” JT scoffs, causing your heart to plummet into your ass. “I really don’t want to listen to any excuses you may have about this.”

“Stop being an asshole for just one second and let me explain,” you reprimand him, already over the fact that your so-called best friend won’t even hear you out. “How is this any different from the countless times you tried to set me up with your friends? Is this not the same thing?”

It’s a genuine question that shuts up JT, because really, it’s not much different in your eyes. For over a year now, JT’s been showing you pictures of buddies he has from back home or from college or even friends of friends that he’d think would suit you. You had always turned him down because to you, dating wasn’t something you wanted other people to really interfere with, even if some of his friends were young, successful, bachelor types.

“Because it’s Tyson,” JT answers simply with a shrug of his shoulders. You look at him, hands clenching at your sides with the vague and uninterested tone. He’s barely even looking at you as he tidies up his kitchen, something he always did when trying to fill silence.

“What the fuck is that even supposed to mean?” You ask incredulously. “You’ve told me a million times he’s one of the best people you’ve ever met.” You bite your tongue from adding a comment about how he is one of the best people you’ve also met.

“The other guys weren’t professional athletes, it’s pretty simple from how I see it.”

“But you could set me up with your friends from Chicago and New York and Michigan but I find one of your friends here in Denver then it’s off limits? Because he plays a sport for a living? If that’s the case then I shouldn’t be friends with you either.” It’s a low blow, you know that, but it finally catches his attention as he drops the cloth he’s wiping the counter with. His eyes finally connect with yours and it’s then he finally notices how hurt you are by the lack of emotion in both his words and his body language. There are tears in your eyes as you look up at the ceiling to try and even your breathing.

“It's an honor for anyone to have a place in my life JT and that includes you,” you continue. “Tyson understands that. He understands that I'm my own person before anything else but he’s still there when I'm stubborn. I've been single for so long and I truly know what I want, what I deserve to feel and I get that with him.”

You often don’t get this deep with the red head, but his lack of wanting to understand you has you emotional as you think of all the benefits of being with Tyson. The few months of being his friend were a perfect build up to the past few weeks of it being more, of sharing a life with someone else. 

“You know him better than most people and if you can honestly tell me he’s no good for me right now then I’ll end it,” you suggest, your heart beating fast as you wait for an answer. JT has come to be one of your best friends in your life, even if he is just your neighbor, and at this moment it’s hard to think of putting a guy between you. Even if that guy is the first guy you’ve really felt this way towards.

“I’m not gonna tell you that,” JT admits with a heavy sigh. He makes his way across the room to you before continuing. “He’s my best friend, too, and if there’s anyone that knows everything about both of you, it’s me. I guess I just felt like you were hiding a secret from me and we don’t do that, ya know? I just wish you could’ve told me.”

You laugh snidely at that, “Do you not remember like two months ago when I told you I thought Tyson was cute and you shot that down before I was even done talking?”

The wheels turn and the light bulb goes off in JT’s brain as he remembers that conversation from a while back, “I won’t confirm nor deny that I said that.”

The both of you laugh lightheartedly at that, pulling him in for a much needed hug, both of you apologizing to the other. The weight on your shoulders is liften as he pulls away, thankful for the fact that you have such an understanding person for a best friend.

“You want to watch an episode of Psych? I think we can fit one in before I have to leave.”

You contemplate it, knowing that a few miles away Tyson is in his apartment panicking as he waits for some sort of update from you. You know you need to tell him how your conversation just went, but something inside you is telling you that JT needs you to spend time with him to normalize everything.

“Sure,” you smile, walking over to his couch and laying on it long ways, forcing JT to sit by himself in his chair. You pull out your phone to text Tyson, smiling as you type out an explanation.

y/n: just finished talking to jt y/n: everything’s good but i think i need to just hang out with him to make him feel better about everything tyson: you sure? y/n: yes, ill call you when he leaves for the airport💚

Everything gets sorted out when you call Tyson an hour later, calming his nerves as you give him a detailed play-by-play of everything that was said between you and JT. The comfortable silence before you hang up is almost filled with him telling you he loves you, but he knows he needs to talk to JT first and needs to tell you in person, and not over the phone as he boards a flight.

The flight was filled with awkward air as most of the guys saw what happened with Tyson and JT in the locker room when practice ended that morning, and even if they weren’t there for that, they felt the tension between them. It’s not until a few hours later when Tyson’s doing his hair before the game when he hears a knock on his hotel door.

He swings the door open to see JT, his hands shoved in his short pockets as he stares right back at Tyson.

“Can we talk?”

“Uh, yeah,” he responds nervously, stepping out of the way to let his friend through the door. The two of them awkwardly stand a few feet away, that meme about two straight guys sitting six feet away in a hot tub because they’re not gay going through Tyson’s brain.

“I, uh, wanted to apologize about everything earlier. I’ll admit, I overreacted a bit and I shouldn’t have tripped you in practice. It was just a lot to take in, especially because I didn’t really know that you two were that close. And I feel like a bad friend now for not knowing that.”

JT’s apology is way more than what Tyson thought he would get from his friend. He knew yours and his conversation went well, but that didn’t mean he still wasn’t scared JT was going to punch him or yell at him or literally anything that wasn’t an amicable conversation between two adults.

“It’s fine, man. It’s on us for keeping you in the dark on this one and I’m sorry for that. I think we barely knew what was going on until it was all happening,” Tyson starts to explain. He’s trying not to look at his feet, knowing that JT needs to see the feelings in his face, those feelings that are very much real to him.

“And it’s real for you? It’s not a game? Because I swear to God, Tyson.” JT darts, voice stern.

“God, no, this isn’t a game to me JT,” Tyson answers quickly, head shaking in disgust at the thought. “I’m not just trying to bag her and call it some accomplishment or whatever you think this is. If that was the case I wouldn’t even be having this conversation with you and you’d already hate me,” he shudders at those words, unable to ever think he could do any wrong to you. “You told me a while ago that it’s no bullshit with her and I know that because it isn’t for me either.”

JT takes a seat on the bed in the room as his friend speaks, taking it all in. It’s a lot for him to take in, but Tyson really is one of the best people he’s ever met and he has little to no doubt that he’s telling the truth about how he feels. If the tears brimming your eyes earlier in the day said anything, you feel the exact same way. The room is silent once Tyson is done talking, his nerves causing him to be quiet for once as JT figures out his next move.

“I hear one bad bad thing from y/n, then it’s over,” JT warns, Tyson nodding his head along in agreement. “And if the guys start talking about your sex life I will be cutting your dick off.”

“Got it.”

“Okay, now that that’s out of the way, how’d you get her to go for you? I’ve been trying to get her a guy for forever.”

“Easy, have you seen my charming smile?” Tyson jokes with that crooked smirk of his, happy to see that JT is already moving on from that heavy stuff and onto best friend stuff. JT rolls his eyes heavily at the joke, a light ‘shut up’ coming out as he laughs.

Tyson explains everything then, the same wide smile on his face he had when he scored his first hat trick. He tells JT about how he wined and dined you on more than one occasion, how he learned those little, obscure things about you that you caught you off guard whenever he remembered them, and most importantly, just spent uninterrupted time with you, getting to know the ins and outs of your life. To Tyson, getting you to open up to him was difficult yet still a tranquil thing to do. The latter severely outweighed the former, as the sense of serenity he felt with you would always overpower any of those harder moments.

The team returns to Denver two days later, a quick road trip to Dallas and St Louis in the books with the regular season ending within the week. You can see that it’s that time of the year on both JT and Tyson’s face, their eyes a little more sunken in with the back half push, even if they’ve already clinched the playoffs. There’s only a few more games left to round out March and the beginning of April, the guys’ still waiting on their round one opponent.

Tyson heads straight for your place when the plane touches down late Wednesday night. You’d talked to him every day for the past few days, but not being able to see him much after JT finding out caused a lot of anxiety for the both of you. The problem may be solved with that, but seeing the other would just give you that little extra push that this was the right thing to do.

Tyson enters your apartment quietly, dropping his backpack and suit jacket down onto the nearby couch as he navigates his way through your apartment in the dark. The light of your string lights in your bedroom illuminates the hallway, soft sounds coming from your phone as Tyson walks in on you laying on your side.

“Hey,” he gently greets with a smile, pausing in the doorway to admire you. You set your phone down, turning around to face the man leaning against the door frame.

You smile just as wide as he does, responding with just as gentle of a ‘hey’. That anxiety you felt over the course of the last few days instantly dissolving at the sight of the man in your doorway.

“Why’re you standing all the way over there?” You ask with a pout.

“I can’t just look at you?” Tyson laughs, making his way over to you slowly. He joins you in bed, crawling over you like he’s still not dressed in one of his expensive custom suits.

“Not when I haven’t seen you in a few days,” you complain with a giggle, the same pout still glued to your face. He places a quick kiss on your lips in response, giving into your silent ask while also erasing that puppy dog look from your face. You’d only officially been with Tyson a few weeks now, the butterflies still heavily present in your stomach everytime your lips meet his.

“Do you not have clothes to change into?” You ask, referring to the crisp white button down he’s still wearing. He nods his head no against yours,

“Only what’s dirty from the roadie. Besides, I plan on being naked here pretty soon,” he smirks playfully. The comment has you shoving him off you with a roll of your eyes, only causing him to laugh loudly at your reaction. You know he’s partly kidding, using that as an excuse to get up from bed to go to the bathroom.

When you emerge from the bathroom, he’s finally shed his clothes and is under your covers. He opens his arms for you to snuggle into him. You do, resting your head on his bicep as he wraps both of his arms back around you.

“I missed you,” you let out. “Because I didn’t know what was gonna happen when you got back with everything going on with JT.”

“I missed you, too, but I’ve always missed you when we left for road trips,” he responds, letting you in on a little secret that clues you in once again to how real this is and how long it’s truly been going on for. “He’s fine with everything, he just told me we can’t act too much like a couple around him.”

You chuckle at that because of course that was the part JT focused on when they talked. As you look up at him, your heart is full and your head still has that same fuzzy feeling it always has when you’re around him. With him you’ve never really felt lonely, something you often felt even when you were around people before him. Those love songs you once heard on the radio that annoyed you no longer do, and instead you welcome them when they play spontaneously in the car or at the bar and parties or even at Avalanche games. 

The thoughts swimming around in your head have you swinging your leg over him, straddling his hips with his hands on your waist and yours on his ribs. That doe-eyed smile he has is focused on you, a grin spreading over your face at the way everything’s worked out with him. Your heart flutters as he gently squeezes your side, a small squeak coming out. He leans up on his elbows then, admiring the view he has of you. He slowly yet full-heartedly fell for you over the time he’s known you and you can see it in the way his gaze turns soft and as the quirkiness drops from his expression.

You’ve slowly fallen in love with the man underneath you, too, and you lean down to kiss him one more time. It’s slow like they always seem to be with him in scenarios like this, where it’s just the two of you and the sounds of your breathing.

The playoffs fly by quickly with the pace they’re winning at, a WAG jacket wrapped tightly around your shoulders to every game you make it to. A new one is shoved into your hands at the start of the Stanley Cup playoffs, Mel telling you it’s a special occasion that calls for a new jacket, even if it is just for a series and even though you’ve just barely broken in your first one.

You go into that offseason with your newly crowned Stanley Cup Champion of a boyfriend, flying out to Chicago over the summer for JT’s day with the cup and spending a whole week in St. Albert when its Tyson’s turn with it.

And that picture frame you never found a picture for that’s hanging up on your wall by your TV? It’s been occupied now with a photo of you sandwiched between JT and Tyson on the ice after Game 6 against the Tampa Bay Lightning, the Cup on the ice in front of the three of you, faces full of glee with confetti falling around you.

Plus One

The pitter patter of small feet running along the hardwood floors of the hallway, followed by a squeal of ‘daddy’ has you setting your glass down and following after her. Your daughter’s giggle is heard through the house, the familiar sound of your husband dropping his bags by the front door following soon after.

“What’re you still doing up, baby girl?” Tyson chastises the four year old as you round the corner to find the two of them still by the door, your daughter in Tyson’s arms as he gives her a kiss.

“Sage said she wouldn’t go to bed until daddy came home for story time,” you answer for Sage. She only giggles in response.

“How about you go get in bed and mommy and daddy will come tell you a story in a minute?” Tyson asks, playing with her little fingers.

“Okay daddy!” She agrees instantly, running all the way up the stairs and down the hall to her bedroom. The brown curls she got from Tyson bounce as she runs, your heart warming at the heavy resemblance she has to her father.

“How are you doing, baby?” Tyson hums as you give him the usual welcome home kiss, his hand coming to rest on your protruding stomach.

“Good, the back pain is much more manageable now, but I’m still going to the bathroom every hour it seems like,” you shrug as you answer. He’d been on the longest road trip of the season so far, one that means the season is almost over. You’d tried extremely hard this time around to get pregnant at the right time so your next child would arrive during the offseason and not in the middle of the conference finals like your first did a few years ago.

“Soon enough we’ll have her running and occupying all of Sage’s free time,” Tyson muses, the two of you making your way to your bedroom so he could change into comfier clothes. You smile at the thought of Sage finally having a little sister to play with and hopefully become best friends with.

When you don’t get to Sage’s room fast enough, she’s racing into yours and Tyson’s room and plopping down onto your spacious bed. You join her, Tyson following, knowing that she’d much rather be sandwiched between the two of you than in her tiny bed in her own room. She leans into her dad’s side, something she’s always done, but you don’t mind — you love seeing them get so close.

“Did you bring a book, sweetie?” You ask her, taming some of her curls.

“No, tell me the story of how you met daddy again,” she proposes, causing you and Tyson to share a look. It’s her favorite story, one she asks you to relay to her at least once a week, and the one she asks for the most when Tyson’s been gone.

The two of you tell the story to her anyway, taking turns as you tell her how upset Uncle JT was about the two of you dating, all the way to the jokes he made sure to make when he gave a speech at your wedding six years ago now.

[cjsinkythoughts]

Ocean Eyes, Cherry Lips, Ivory Keys

Pairing: 40s!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2747

Warnings: Cursing, mentions of alcohol, I think that’s all

A/N: This is a headcanon I’ve had for a while that I’ve been wanting to write about 40s!Bucky, pre-War. I kinda want to write a series about it, so that might happen. For now, enjoy this little tidbit I’ve written, with the prompt of Occasion for HBC’s Lucky in Love Day 18! (This isn’t beta’d so please excuse mistakes.)

He’s something of a celebrity. A living legend. A God amongst humans. Starting as a kid in Brooklyn, his fanbase rapidly grew, expanding to Queens, Manhattan, even parts of New Jersey, just in the past few years.

You don’t get it. So what if he’s got cool blue eyes, soft chocolate hair, and a charming smile? Who cares if he’s got smooth moves and even smoother words? He’s just a man - a human being - with flaws just like everyone else. A talented and gorgeous man, who has all of New York wanting to fall to her knees to please him, but still just a man.

James Buchanan Barnes.

Most everyone knew his name, but there was a lot of mystery surrounding the actual character. 

You just don’t see what all the fuss is about. You’ve never personally met him, or even seen him, but you know people who have. Your friend’s cousin even claims to have danced with him once. Not that that would be hard. You hear he’s never danced with the same bird twice, and, considering most start dancing in their teenage years, that’s a lot of dames.

It’s not that you’re not curious about him - if he’s actually as dashing as they say - but you’re not about to stop your life for him like some of your friends. They’re obsessed with getting his attention. With seeing if they’d be the one. The one to finally chain him down and tame him. The one he’d go steady with.

It feels like that’s all you ever talk about anymore. It was amusing at first, but now it’s just getting annoying. It’s been three years since that day in March of 1938, when your roommate ran into your room, plopping down onto your bed, before ranting and raving about the new ocean eyed piano player at her favorite bar. And since then, he’s been in your life without actually being in your life.

Speaking of, here you are. Listening to Lucy, MaryAnne, and Jean gushing over the man, trying to enjoy your milkshake.

“I heard from Sally that Thomas said that he knew the brother of one of his friend’s in high school!”

“That can’t be true! I heard from Billy, who heard from Martha, who was told by Ben, that he only had, like, one friend in high school.”

“You’re kidding, right? There’s no way a man like that had only one friend.”

“I hear he does boxing and that’s why he’s got a body sculpted like a Greek God.”

“Oh my God! MaryAnne!”

You rub your temples, resisting the urge to roll your eyes as the three burst into fits of giggles. If you have to hear one more word about-

“I heard he’s going to be playing at Georgie’s on Friday!”

Gasps echoed around the table. “No way! Georgie’s?”

You raise an eyebrow, this actually intriguing you. Georgie’s is a popular little hole in the wall, on the edge of being a speakeasy, which doubles as a pub and a dance hall in Brooklyn. It’s one of the best hang outs for kids like you and your girls, but it isn’t very high class. Maybe that’s why it’s one of the best. “Isn’t Georgie’s a little…cheap for him? He’s been playing at the best bars and restaurants for a while now.”

“It’s a classic in Brooklyn. Near his home, probably.”

“Do you think he lives near there?!”

“Ooo! Maybe we could find out!’

You scoff. “That,” gesturing to Lucy with your glass, you take a sip of your milkshake. “Is called stalking, my friend.”

Jean waves towards you dismissively. “I think he lives near Tin Pan Alley. That’s where he plays the most, after all. Georgie’s was probably just an old hang out for him and his pals.”

“Wait, wait,” you shake your head, a thought popping into your head. You turn to Lucy, confused. “How’d you find out he’s playing at Georgie’s anyways? Isn’t part of his whole act not telling anyone where he’s playing?”

Giving you a smirk and a wink, Lucy shrugs. “I’ve got my connections.”

You roll your eyes again, turning your attention back to your milkshake. “So?!” MaryAnne squealed. “We’re going on Friday, right?”

“Hell yes!”

“Absolutely!”

“Not.” You mumble, causing the other three to stare at you incredulously.

“Not?!”

“I’m not wasting my Friday night going to see some fella you all have a crush on. Especially when he might not even be there.”

Your friends groan, exchanging glances. “And what’re you gonna do?” Jean crossed her arms with a pointed look on her face. “Sit down and read a book like you always do?”

You huff. “I like reading, sue me. I don’t get a lot of time to myself. You know that new girl’s been gumming up the works and I’ve had to stay late to fix her mistakes all week.”

“This is exactly what you need, then! Come out, have a drink, jive a little-”

You look up at that, an amused kind of smirk on your lips. “Jive? Me and my clumsy ass?”

You all laugh. “Okay, so maybe not dance, but c’mon! It’ll be snazzy, you’ll see!”

“Fine, fine.” Standing up with a sigh, you collect your things, smoothing down your dress with your hands. “I’ve gotta scram.”

“We’ll see you on Friday, right?”

You give a small smile, shooting them a wink. “I guess I can make it.”

***************

Friday comes a lot faster than you anticipate. You dress up; a navy blue dress going to your knees with white, heart shaped buttons and a bow around the waist. The shoes you’re wearing are your nice black and white Mary Janes. Lips painted deep red, and hair pinned back in loose curls, you glance over yourself in a mirror. You’ll admit; you look damn good. You don’t wanna go, but you might as well try to have some fun since you are.

It’s a cool evening, early May meaning the summer humidity hasn’t hit just yet. You didn’t even think about bringing a coat, but you start to regret the decision as you start walking. MaryAnne, who you actually room with, already left, being way too excited to stay put.

It doesn’t take you long - you live on the border of Queens and Brooklyn - but your feet are more sore than you’d like when you arrive.

“I knew you’d come!” Lucy grins, coming up besides you and linking her arm in yours. MaryAnne comes up on your other side and does the same to your free arm.

“Where’s Jean?”

“Where do you think? She already found a Joe to swing with.”

You laugh. “Of course she has! So is your dreamboat here?”

The grins that are immediately on their faces answer your question and they quickly drag you inside.

It’s hot and crowded and dim. Skirts with their beaus, guys with their broads, swinging and dancing to the lively music of the band on stage. Smoke from cigarettes, pipes, and cigars is evident in the air as they neared the bar portion of the building, mixing with the boisterous sound of laughter and chatter.

“Everyone’s talking about it! He’s here, but he hasn’t played yet. We’ve been trying to catch a glimpse of him, but we think he’s in a back room.” The dramatic sigh MaryAnne gives makes you laugh a little.

“Okay, khaki whackies. Let’s get a drink.”

You, just as you thought would happen tonight, are left alone at the bar by your friends who quickly found partners to dance with. A few men asked you, but you have never been a good dancer.

You’re lost in thought, running a finger gently around the rim of your cup, when a voice sounded besides you, pulling you out of your thoughts, a slight rasp to the otherwise mellifluous voice.

“You gonna drink that, doll, or just stare at it all night?”

You raise an eyebrow at the jest, turning your head, only to have your breath hitch. What a specimen. Ocean blue eyes, fluffy brown curls, cherry pink lips. A white dress shirt is pulled over his broad chest, gray dress pants hugging thick thighs, matching suit jacket across wide shoulders. He has a blue, black, and white plaid tie around his neck and you can see the edges of his blue suspenders under his blazer. He’s put together, but it’s nothing special, a normal Sunday best suit, that much you can tell.

“Uh, not all night.” You look back to the drink, before looking at the clock with a hum, tilting your head playfully. “Maybe another hour.”

He chuckles, gesturing for the bartender. “Tell me this, sweetheart. What is a beautiful dame like yourself doin’ drinking alone?”

“I’m not very good on my feet, I’m afraid.” You laugh nervously, taking a sip of your drink.

“Don’t come here often, then?”

“Only for special occasions.”

“What’s the special occasion this evenin’, sugar?”

You shrug. “My friends dragged me here. They’re practically in love with this guy who’s supposedly playing the piano tonight. James Barnes. Have you ever heard of him?”

He chuckles, a grin pulling his lips upwards. “Yeah. Yeah I’ve heard of ‘im. Not a big fan yourself?”

“I’m sure he’s fine. I just don’t understand the fascination with him. Let the man be.”

“I agree.” He hums with a nod, grabbing the glass of whiskey the bartender set in front of him. “I actually know him.”

“Really?” You look at him in interest.

He tilts his head with a smile towards you that makes you melt. “Yeah. He feels the same. He just likes playin’. That’s all. He didn’t want all the attention. He gets enough without that.”

You raise an eyebrow, finishing off your drink. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I’m Bucky by the way.”

You eye his hand, grabbing it after a second, letting him bring your knuckles to his lips. “Y/N.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, mama.” He shifts his body more towards you, running a hand through his hair. “You said you ain’t fond of dancin’?”

Shaking your head, you quickly defend yourself, “no, no. I like dancing. I’m just not very good. Got two left feet.”

He smirks, tongue poking out to run over those plump lips of his. “Well, with the right partner, it doesn’t really matter.”

“Are you asking me to dance, Bucky?”

“Not if you’re gonna say no.” He responds with a toothy grin, leaning his elbows on his knees.

You sigh and shake your head. “I’m afraid tonight’s not your night, pal. I just can’t seem to get myself in the mood.”

He hums, leaning back. “Is it the music? Too fast for you?”

“I wouldn’t mind if they slowed it down some, I suppose.”

He smiles cheekily. “I can help with that. Hold on.”

You grin at him, nodding. “I’ll be here.”

Watching him stand and make his way over to the stage, you quirk an eyebrow. He seems to know the band well, if the handshakes and the claps on the back have anything to say about it. He says something to the lead, who nods with a grin, shooting him a wink. Bucky laughs, but you can see a tint of pink dusting his cheeks, making you wonder what they were saying.

He makes his way back over as the band shifts tones, the animated swing changing to a slow jazzy number. Bucky beams at you, holding out his hand as he approaches. “Care to dance?”

You purse your lips, narrowing your eyes, but taking his hand anyways. “How’d you do that? Do you work here?’

“Uh…somethin’ like that.” He states vaguely, leading you to the dance floor with the other swaying couples. Pulling you as close as appropriate, his hands resting politely on your waist, he starts moving you side to side. 

“That’s not ominous.” You place your hands on his shoulders, following his lead as you stare at your feet.

He chuckles, hooking a finger under your chin to lift your gaze. “I’ve gotcha, doll. I won’t let you fall.”

“I’m going to step on your feet.” You explain.

“Nah. You’re doin’ great. You just need to get outta your head. Relax a little. Tell me something about yourself.”

You hum. “Like what?”

“Anything.”

“Uh, okay…I have a roommate who is one of the girls who begged me to come, I’m a secretary - I know, boring - and…I dunno. I like reading.”

His eyes lighten at this. “Reading? Whaddya like to read?”

“Different things. Depends on my mood. I’m re-reading The Hobbit for, like, the twentieth time right now.”

“I love The Hobbit.” Bucky grins, making you smile back. “I read it almost as soon as it came out.”

“Me too! I was planning on reading it tonight but,” you gesture around. “Here I am.”

Bucky lips pull up softly, his hold on your waist tightening ever so slightly as he pulls you closer. “Well, as much as I love that book, I’m glad you came out tonight.”

Giving him a little tease, you tap your chin thoughtfully. “Eh…I think I’d rather be at home.”

He pinches your side gently, making you squeal and squirm. “That hurt, sugar. That physically hurt me. C’mon, mama, your gonna say you aren’t havin’ a good time?”

“I just met you ten minutes ago.”

“Well, sweetheart, if you think we’re movin’ too fast, I won’t introduce you to my folks just yet.”

You laugh, blinking up at him. “That’s very thoughtful of you, Buck.”

The two of you rock for a little while longer, before the band stops, announcing they’re taking a break and a special guest is going to play a little something.

“Maybe James Barnes is here.” You say, a bit of intrigue lacing your tone, trying to see through the crowds of people who started gathering around the stage to catch a glimpse of the charming pianist. “I see why he would be over the attention.”

“Yeah.” Bucky sighs, almost sadly, giving you an apologetic look. “Listen, I’ve gotta go work for a bit, but I’ll be right back.”

You smirk. “So you do work here?”

“Um…kinda. You’ll see.”

You raise an eyebrow at his words, but he’s kissing your knuckles and walking away. You frown, but can’t think more on it when three young women are on you, babbling about their dates.

“Who were you dancing with, Y/N? He was cute!”

You roll your eyes, feeling yourself heat up, and not because of the many bodies in the vicinity. “Just…some guy.”

“C’mon, c’mon! We’ve gotta get a good spot to actually see him!”

You huff, letting the drag you through the crowd, shoving their way towards the front just as a familiar deep voice spoke. 

“Thanks for comin’ out, everyone. I hope your havin’ a good night. Let’s get this hop started, yeah?”

Your eyes widen when you finally catch sight of the man sitting at the piano with a polite smile on his features. He catches your eye and shoots you a wink, before his fingers start flying over the keys. The beam that he gets while tickling the gleaming ivories, his azure eyes lighting up, and you can’t fight the smile you get. He looks so relaxed, so invigorated, that it makes you happy just watching him.

“Oh my God! Weren’t you dancing with him?!” Lucy shook your shoulder obnoxiously, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care, mesmerized with the way he played like it’s the only thing he wanted to do with his life. Which, as you remember his words, ‘he just likes playin’. That’s all.’ you figure it is the only thing he wanted to do with his life.

You just danced with James Barnes…and he’s just as perfect as everyone says.

You’re still trying to wrap your head around it, your friends jumping around you, trying to get every little detail of him from you, when your heart skips a beat and your brain malfunctions. Bucky had started up another song, slower and more intimate, and he’s looking right at you. 

You find yourself doing something you never thought you would; you’re swooning over James Barnes, smiling like an idiot, heat blooming up your neck and flaming your face. And yes, he’s just a man - a human being - with flaws just like everyone else. But he’s a talented and gorgeous man, who has all of New York wanting to fall to her knees to please him.

And now that includes you.

[charlieroll]

okay okay okay!!! so this is a silly lil fic that i may or may not do a second part or even third -im already planning it but i dunno if i will ehehe-, about the detective au from @starlightcloudbaby !!! is just a silly little thing and and yEAH hope you enjoy :D i tried making y/n with a personality not soo healthy but still very cheerful -i dont know how to describe it-, and im sorry if the personality isnt much consistent but but i tried!! also sorry if there are grammar errors, im not english huhu

EDIT: i forgor to add that it has mentions of violence! it isnt too graphic but it is there

----------------------

Okay. So this wasn’t the prettiest of situations for you.

It was particularly cold that night, even for autumn, but you were busy tonight. Detective Sun and Detective Moon had been trying to catch you even harder than ever before, working longer shifts and looking on edge every time they saw you. They were acting weird, so weird that you didn’t have the time to look at the news. Until you had.

Your face was everywhere in those papers, saying all those… crimes you’ve committed. You immediately paid that newspaper and flew to your base, ready to read it all. Geez, you couldn’t even enjoy one evening walking around, could you?

Either way, there was little information of those said crimes. Vandalizing paintings –the furthest you have ever gone to paint something where you shouldn’t, would probably be when you drew in your walls- and harming various policemen in the process of escaping. First, you never harmed anyone with your teasing nor fleeing, and second, you were just guessing your favourite detectives weren’t injured. You were oh so sure they wouldn’t want to play anymore if they thought you did it. And also, who thinks is so clever as to take your face and names?

Now you had done some little research and were heading to what you thought would probably be their next location, with wind in your face and a frown to avoid drying your eyes. You were a bit familiar with identity thefts. They would probably be well trained in acting and/or makeup. You just were worried that they’ve been studying you to get a good enough knowledge to appear to be… well, you.

Honestly? You didn’t quite like them. The identity thefts, you mean. Not because it was happening to you, actually you respected them for their capacities to imitate someone; quite a nice ability, to be honest. If they were doing for the good side, they’d probably be very useful. Like you. You only used your gun to harm bad guys, you know? Never towards the very same celestial themed detectives that chased you around practically every day. They weren’t corrupt, you could tell. But back to the point, you just… had a bad feeling about them. You had bad experiences, nothing awfully horrid, but anyways.

You arrived and searched in silence through the building. Not gonna lie, you were just mad they were doing things you didn’t considered ethic –you never stole just to sell, nor harmed people you didn’t needed to harm-, and you just couldn’t stand it. Maybe talking will make them go to your side. Probably they just needed money or something. You hoped so. Oh, and mad you threw your weekend plans off the window. Some mafia dudes were going to show up somewhere in the city and you were planning on at least do something about it. It was better than letting them go without consequences, so you called anonymously the police, alerting about that place with details and hour, just before heading towards the exact same edifice you were in right now. Just left for praying that they don’t let them go out of jail in 48 hours, or you were gonna be so annoyed. It took you weeks!

You tensed immediately at hearing something. Running, some shooting, and you saw someone just like you running, hiding nearby and shoot back. Then some thud, and you knew they were dead. At seeing that awful sight of corpses, you shuddered in silence. Why the need of get rid of your chasers? You had fun with them, nothing else, but that copycat was more… corrupt. They didn’t even doubt to pull the trigger!

You stared in silence, trying to get the disgust out of your face. Instead you focused on them. Same white shirt, same royal blue trousers and dark shoes- What?! They even had the ribbon you used to hold your ponytail. Okay, hold on to your horses, it was fine. It didn’t have the details it had; it was plain red and yellow. Okay, one way more to differentiate you both. Also, their face.

Physically? Nothing different. But it just wasn’t you. No teasing, no amusement, and no nothing you ever had in your face. It was more like… you don’t even know, but it gave you a shudder. Maybe talking wasn’t something that was gonna end well; you had that one feeling you had when something was corrupted as fuck. Like when you fought against that one crimson animatronic (well, you didn’t quite fought but they wanted to hurt you and you were running for your life and the little prize you took off of them and haven’t returned ever since; it was worth though, he was quite the slippery bot, and ever since, you didn’t even needed to search for him, they showed at your door themselves now! Well, with quite a lot of guns and some soldiers and a lot of killing desires towards you but- eventually you were gonna catch them and make them pay for their crimes like everyone else).

They just kneeled and stole some bullets and replaced their gun, and quickly headed to the exit, and you quickly crawled down from the ceiling, carefully getting down from those beams like you once saw Detective Moon do to caught someone –you were spying-, with the pistol in between the teeth you were not aware he had –he never quite used it, you know, but it didn’t meant he shouldn’t have-. With the elegance of an electronic gazelle and lethality of a knife, he looked hella awesome. So you were impressed and tried having that same ability. Some broken bones before and muscles aching, you turned just fine. Hah! That little copycat wouldn’t be able of doing that, would they?

Either way, you had to focus. You were following them as quietly as ever, amusedly thinking how low guard they were, out of character with a bag in their back, probably full of things they just stole; judging by the sound, it was probably jewellery. Guns, even.

They ended up in the ceiling when you decided to appear. For them, you just spawned there, with a mischief grin and a hand in your hip, looking at them confidently. For you it was more like getting in place and posing, to finally cough to catch their attention. They appeared to be scared and surprised, but quickly drew their weapon towards you.

-Hey, fella, calm down a bit –you said, getting your hands up playfully- I just wanna talk to ya.

-Mad for me acting like you? –they imitated your grin perfectly. You ignored your gut feeling.

-No, not really, my fella –you shrugged-, just that I don’t think we’re playing the same game. Maybe we’d like to work with each other, so why don’t we calm down and talk properly?

They lowered it slightly, but it was still ready to shoot at you. –You want to work… with me?

-I think we have to get to an agreement first –you shrugged yet again. Maybe you’d get them to learn gestures you didn’t used at all times, so you could maybe trick them into a behaviour that wasn’t yours while being slight, not notorious-,  and I also have some questions of what you’ve been doing with my face, ya know?

The copycat got tense. –Shoot it.

You didn’t hide your smile from that silly joke coming from the one with the gun. –You’ve vandalized some art pieces and didn’t even steal them. Why?

-They deserved it. No one would pay attention to a random graffiti in a subway’s wall that said that one of the political assholes was an abuser. Especially if that dickhead was the sponsor of that museum, and also its favourite piece, so…

Fuck. Yeah, right, you could work with that. –In the news, it said you harmed various policemen. Did you really need to?

-They shot first!

-I know! But did you need to get to their level? –you tried to hide the little disgust mixed with teasing.

-You can’t say I didn’t have reasons.

-They ended up dead. You don’t even have a scratch, do you?

-Do you support police? –disgust in their faces was the main dish.

-Of course not! –You frowned-, but it isn’t needed that you goddamn shoot at everything and anything. Gosh, you need some serious training in how I work if you really wanna imitate me.

They raised a brow. –Why would you help me be a better you?

-Maybe because we could have much, much fun –you said amused-, like guess how much Detective Sun and Detective Moon could react! I bet Detective Moon would be confused and try to shoot us both but wouldn’t actually pull the trigger, he never does, and maybe he has some kind of problem with being too aggressive? Or having such impulses, I don’t know really. Anyway, while Detective Sun-

-You mean those animatronics that follow us? –Us?-, those bastards, why do you talk so happily about them? They try to arrest you constantly.

-Oh? Yeah, but its way more funny if-

They raised their gun yet again. –You probably work for them, don’t you?

-Excuse me? –you raised your brows.

-Just hear yourself, asking about “crimes” like if you didn’t do different.

It hit you harder than a bullet.

Did you… Were you a criminal just like them? Naughty, as Moon would say?

You shook your head. –I try to do a little good in the world, just that.

-You haven’t denied it –they growled.

-Aw come on! You know very well I’ve been in this far longer than you probably. You know my story probably better than anyone else, other me.

It didn’t seem to convince them. You sighed, taking your hands up, not to avoid violence, but to replace the ribbon in your head to your regular black hair elastic to do your ponytail, and kept the red fabric inside of your inner pockets, safe from falling off. You tried de-escalating the situation, but they seemed ready to pull the trigger if the next thing wasn’t it. You just sighed, rolling up your sleeves as if getting ready to fight.

They seemed to get even tenser, even their voice changing and a finger on the trigger, and you waited and kept talking, but they eventually did shot. Thank goodness you’ve been practicing not getting shot with all the fights you’ve had, and the fact you had been walking through the roof, and so it wasn’t just like point-blank range. Or some shit like so, you just thank every god you knew it didn’t hit you completely, just a scratch that started to bleed –looking again, it wasn’t just a scratch, but it wasn’t inside your flesh!- You ran fast before they shot again, and hit their hand with yours, and punched their face with your elbow after doing a quick turn.

Damn! They had a knife in their pocket, and you just moved away to not be stabbed, but you got another scratch in the nose bridge. Nothing serious, really, but it hurt a bit. Cheating, cheating! Rule-breaker!!

Now, now, you could dodge all the knife swings you wanted, really, but eventually you knew it was gonna catch you. Instead, closer to them, you got on the floor and kicked their ankles. Not the enough to let them fall, but they lost balance and you took the opportunity to take the dagger off of their hands and tackle them next. You could have punched them, but you opened your mouth to say something teasing. You were pushed aside before you could say anything, so yeah… not great. You were starting to get annoyed- but, but, but! You had a good feeling. You were gonna play, they like it or not. Yes. You were. The thing was… what to play?

They were gonna punch you, but they shouldn’t have forgotten you were an escape artist. Yeah, it was about getting out, mostly, but you also knew how to get in. Does that make sense? Of course it does, you are talking to yourself in your head. The point is you trapped them with your own black elastic. You had more than one; thank goodness you always kept extra.

-Fella, we need not to fight –you said-, I actually have something to ask you.

They raised their gaze to meet yours, mostly to make themselves sure that you weren’t gonna shoot or anything. –It’s nothing about surrender or about joining forces or anything if that’s what worries you –you said with a giggle.

They just raised a brow. You were about to ask, just as you collected the rest of information of your cases, but this one specifically meant a lot to you. Of course, you almost always took it on your own hands, but always left they get arrested by some random police officer. With this case, however, it wasn’t gonna be so easy. What for? They were gonna leave jail anyways if they paid enough.

You were not leaving the case to Detective Sun and Moon as you would sometimes so you’d not have a race to see who get to them first, nor you’d take it slowly as you normally would. This. This was different.

Then BAM! Detective Moon’s on the case.

Oh, the only time you were less than pleased to see his black and white face. Faceplate. Whatever.

-Hands up- you… both…? –he shouted, lowering his voices as he tilted his face to stare at you two, like thinking who was who. He didn’t close the door by which he came from.

You slowly breathed deep, without getting your hands up, and neither did your copycat. –Detective Moon –they said instead, without your teasing tone. Well, they failed, because you already had your typical smile.

-Detective Moon! –You greeted-, do you wanna play charades with us? Maybe mimes if you want-

-HANDS UP! –Detective Sun shouted, after going up the emergency stairs, so they were at your left. Oh my! The timing! Hilarious.

There was a little silence before someone else spoke, and you let out a giggle.

-Detectives, calm down, there are enough of us –the other you said, and you nodded.

-No need to share –you added smiling with your teeth.

-…god, they are good at pretending –the lunar animatronic whispered, tired as though his shift just started.

-Are you together? –Detective Sun asked.

-No –they said immediately, and you just stood silent, as the scratches started aching.

-How could I be with someone… uh… what is the word?

-Magnificent?

-Awful morally –you said with a giggle. You were just messing around, to be honest.

-We are here for one only –Detective Moon said, tense-, with the charges of murder for various citizens and other felonies.

-Huh? –You said, getting off character for a second, and then coughed-, are you sure these charges are for that copycat? I mean uh-

-How can you do such awful things? –The other whined-, so inhumane, so cruel.

-Wait, no, this is serious, how many people did they… uh…?

-Enough to be on jail for life.

So they can’t pay their way out? Good. You pulled up your sleeves and thought. How were you gonna catch them? You didn’t have the strength at your side, no. Detective Sun and Moon weren’t gonna help, as they thought that you probably had committed them. What move should you pull? You could maybe tie them up again, but it just wasn’t that fun to repeat yourself… hm…

-I have an idea –the sunny twin said-, let’s do questions, Moon.

-We have to arrest them both.

-But we don’t know who the dangerous one is –Detective Sun said-, what if they shoot?

-I volunteer! –You said, cheerful-, to the questions, I mean.

The copycat –they haven’t said their real name, so you gave them one- stared blankly for less than a second, and returned to the playfulness. –Me to!! Even if you arrest me, I can get out. Am I right, Detectives?

-After all, I have nothing to fear if I’m the original –you said, with a hand on your chest with pride, right below your collarbone. You chuckled at how both the Detectives and the copycat reacted to your if, even if subtle.  

Both Detectives stared into one of them, sometimes shifting their eyes to their brother, and the other you shifted their gaze amongst the three of you.

-Okay. First question.

-Why did you become an escape artist? –Detective Sun asked, inquisitive.

-Answer the one without the ribbon.

-Easy as a lemon pie –you chuckled-, I adored circus as a kid, I told ya once, Detectives, and I really, really liked those kinds of shows, and I started working as a vigilante later, and it was helpful! But, still, come on guys. If you wanna see who is the real me, you gotta ask something spicier, don’t ya think? –you let out a giggle.

The Detectives looked briefly at each other for a second. –Fine. Second question.

-Why don’t you take out your gun? –Detective Moon asked, more like a growl needing answers than a question. Aw, he looked so sweet like that. You mean. What. Wait, yeah. Yeah! As a teasing, you mean. Awful time to debate internally how you meant a joke no one heard.

-The one with the ribbon answers now.

-Easy as escaping you guys! –The other you said-, I don’t because if I shoot someone just like that and kill them, I wouldn’t be better than them. Why getting on their level?

-Then why is your drop leg holster so near your hand?

The copycat froze for a second, as their hand was just some centimetre away from taking their gun out. Their hand slowly became a fist and then cheerfully took their hands up, like shrugging. –Because of safety, of course! I wouldn’t know what that impostor would do, especially considering they’ve committed so much murder! This… beast, if I can call them so, wouldn’t hesitate from hurting me if they get bored!

-Oh, come on, I don’t even sound like that.

-Shut –Detective Moon hissed. It’s not your turn.

Oh well.

You knew what they intended with that question. They’ve studied you, of course, and for much longer, and had chases with you, not mentioning that every time they arrested you and searched for any gun, they never found any. Mostly because you never used one. Of course after some certain event with a certain scarlet animatronic very like-your-favourite-Detectives looking, you started carrying one everywhere, even if you didn’t used to utilizing it. And of course you didn’t leave it so easy in sight as your thigh. They knew your thoughts about it. About violence and harming without the need, of course. And you, joyfully, started noticing they changed their ways too. Not even threatening with taking out their guns, not even Moon, instead just running with the handcuffs and trying so hard on arresting you.

-Lastly.

-Any of you can answer –Detective Sun said,

-How did you get that ribbon? And also, where is it? –that last part was towards you.

You immediately reached your inner pocket to take out your ribbon, with golden details in the red cloth. The other you reacted in less than a second, taking their ribbon and looking and you, then shifting their gaze between both bots. PFFF! THEIR FAZADE WAS STARTING TO BREAK! You didn’t wanted to be mean; you really didn’t, but their eyes, so angry towards you for a millisecond then desperate to the Detectives.

-They stole it from me!! –they shouted.

-Oh, come on, I don’t steal –you shrugged-, also, why would I put it back on your hair?

-And why don’t you have it on your hair?

-Because YOU were going to steal from me!

-Shush you both –Detective Sun said, tired. Oh, right, it must’ve been just the end of his shift; he should be oh so tired. Poor little thing.

-You haven’t answered any question. Stop rambling towards the other.

-We aren’t a daycare –Detective Sun sighed-, stop acting like toddlers, please. How did you get the ribbon?

You stared at the other you, smiling smugly and they stared back, with a drop of sweat through their cheek. No, they were begging with their eyes, please.

Oh, of course you were going to.

-Yeah, you little copycat –you said, playful-, refresh my memory. If you can.

They stayed silent and you approached, putting your hands on their shoulders and passing through their arms as you walked around their back, slowly. The Detectives were as tense as ever. –Oh, come on now, don’t be shy! Or is it that you… can’t? –you whispered at their ear.

Just when you were going to complete the circle around them and tell the answer yourself, they got you by the neck and put their gun on your head.

Oh, you fucking knew it.

You supressed your grin, as the situation didn’t deserve it. Actually, it did, but it just wasn’t fitting for everyone else. The Detectives –oh, your beloved animatronics- got their guns directly aiming to the copycat that growled. You had already hidden your ribbon by now, so no danger concerning your little prize.

-Drop the gun –Detective Sun said, almost like if… worried about you.

-Think about it for a second. How will you get out of here? –by killing you?

-Yeah, not-anymore-other-me, how are you gonna get outta here? –You mocked, even though you were trying to scratch their arm holding you by the neck. It only got their grip tighter and you felt now the cold metal.

-I won’t hurt them if you leave aside your guns.

Detective Moon shook his head with his eyes on his sunny twin that almost hesitated, before holding it as tight as before. –And what do we get with that? Is not like if we aren’t gonna arrest them too –it was a lie… right? Yeah, it was. He couldn’t behave like that! Just so the copycat could perceive things wrong.

-You haven’t shot yet. You care, Detectives? –they mock.

-You learned well the art of teasing –you whispered as an inner joke, but they poke the scratches (that by the way, weren’t bleeding anymore, but oh my, oh my, it hurts like a bitch) lightly, just to get a whine out of you, but you saw the grin.

-learned from the best. Me.

-I could kiss ya if you weren’t you and you were me instead. You are great, you knew? –you said, fawning yourself.

-What are you talking so much about? –the moon-styled animatronic growled.

-You know? We could’ve been allies –they whined.

-Are you together now?

None of you answer.

The Detectives growled. Still, they haven’t let go, so you took it as a sign. Just a bit more…

-Both. Hands. Up –it was more of a warning from the darker animatronic.

-Please. Can’t we talk it up? –the solar one said.

-Drop your guns and I might let him go.

Ugh, spice it up while I’m working, will you?

Click.

The copycat jumped at the subtle sound, and you quickly got away as you stomped with as much strength you had. Oh, the conversation was so pleasant for everyone that between the little struggles to scratch, they didn’t even notice you was tying them up slowly, and got them with a lock. Phew! Ugh! Wait! That didn’t stopped them from hitting you in the jaw with their gun, as suddenly it felt much more lighter, and as you were holding the bullets on your fingers.

You whined at the sudden blow, feeling it was at least going to leave you bruised up, but it was fine. You saw a quick shadow jump towards the copycat even before you could do the second step as you brought your hands to your face.

Detective Moon was already on the other you, arresting them while hissing things you couldn’t hear. While, you heard some more clicks, and you, too, were handcuffed by wrist and ankle to Detective Sun. You just grinned, maybe as tired as him, and he sat at your side.

-Oh, the bruise isn’t too bad, is it? Oh, and those cuts… -he said, taking out a piece of cloth that worked as a tissue or something. Why the sunny brother did have one? Is not like he could sweat, cry or bleed. And it was way too clean to be for oil or some other robotic stuff that were gross to say the least.

-Aw, don’t tell me you are worried about me, Sunny -you said, playful. It didn’t hurt, didn’t hurt, hurt…

The Detective was trying to clean up the blood left in your injuries –that were starting to burn-, and stopped for a second when you said that nickname. Not even his brother called him so.

-We are obligated to serve first aid, even if you are a-

-Vigilante –you interrupted.

He just stared. –Uh-huh.

You just allowed him to treat your wounds –he couldn’t do much since he seemed to just have that tissue on- while watched Detective Moon arrest them. It seemed they blacked out, lying there so still it seemed they were sleeping. Then the celestial animatronic got nearby, and looked at your injuries quickly and nodded. –Don’t let them escape.

-I haven’t tried to yet, Detective Moon –you said with a grin-, don’t you worry.

He just frowned, but crossed his arms. –While Detective Sun treats your wounds, I’ve got a question for you, before the police arrive to take… them into jail formally. For now, it’s safer to keep you still in one place.

You sighed in amusement. –Scared to let go off me?

Detective Moon didn’t answer verbally, just pointing with his thumb to your copycat. –I can chase them off, too, if they try to escape –you offered-, not like this, though –you said, pointing with your free arm to the other.

-I can keep up –Detective Sun said, while taking a little bottle of alcohol to spray on other tissue and proceed to clean up again, and god it hurts, but it was fine. You were going to be fine.

-I always escape for something, Detective Sun –you said, already without handcuffs and did jazzy-hands, but you let your ankle to be connected too. You took your ribbon out and put it again on your ponytail, and you smiled at feeling it was back in place again, where it belonged to.

-You- -he sighed, but Detective Moon put his own connected to your wrist, and you moved your hands back and forth, you intertwining with his fingers, and you noticed he was particularly still.

-As I said –the lunar lad continued-, we have a question.

-Oh! Yes, we have. We overheard your conversation between you two.

-Just the end of it. You were about to ask something, weren’t you?

You nodded. –Yeah. Why?

-What was it?

You narrowed your eyes, in silence avoiding their scrutinizing eyes.

-Why did they chose me to copycat –you lied with a grin-, from all the people that could’ve been, why me?

-Probably because they noticed your prestige –Detective Sun said slowly. His brother punched him lightly to the side.

-Why did you lie?

-Hm?

-You left my hand immediately as soon as I said that, your heartbeat is much faster and your hands are slightly sweating.

You left your grin frozen, more like paused than anything. –Personal business.

They didn’t say anything as they looked at you. You sighed. –Just because you two are my beloved bots.

You breathed deeply. –I’m guessing you know the reason I became a vigilante, right?

They nodded slowly; all ears for you –even if they didn’t have-. Oh, you loved undivided attention.

You really didn’t want to go into details, so you nodded back while moving your thumbs back and forth, fingers intertwined and on your lap. A long… long time ago –how much has passed still surprised you- you were incriminated doing something you didn’t. Luckily you had a good lawyer and the evidence saying that you did it was…confusing? At best, so you didn’t go to jail, but it still… wasn’t fair. You were scared it would happen again. So you just made sure it wouldn’t. Nor to you nor anyone! You were just cleaning off the streets. Never killing or harming, no, just making sure they wouldn’t do it again! Wasn’t it nice?

Still, you couldn’t uncover who did it. Who had incriminated you.

-Well, something about that –you said slowly and lower than usual. The Detectives just stared, and for a moment you felt just so uncomfortable. Were they judging you? Oh, fuck, no.

You giggled to pass the tense moment and quickly without much thought you got free from your handcuffs and did a forward somersault and scaled into the little roof above the door to get back inside the building. You looked at them, but they didn’t seem very eager on chasing down that much. Detective Moon just walked, fast and even seemed wanting to hop up too, but refrain from doing so. His sunny twin just stayed behind, walking a bit slower, but towards the copycat, still sleeping.

-I’m afraid we don’t have much time left, do we? –you said, doing a gesture of farewell with two fingers in your forehead, as you heard the police was arriving already. And of course, Moon’s hat in your head now, as you played with it and posed for him as a mock.

-Hold on a second –he said, concerned and annoyed. Wait. That gaze... There was something off.

-Hm? –You asked cheerful-, Oh, Detective, calm, your hat is gonna be fineeee….

You threw the hat down, and he immediately took it and left it on his head. But his eyes didn’t even flicker from you. -…detective?

-Do you know who that ribbons belonged to?

You tilted your head a bit. –I took it as a prize for fooling Eclipse –you admitted, narrowing your eyes- Why?

Both Detectives stared at each other, the sunny one almost begging with his eyes, as the other was giving you his back. –Moon, don’t, they don’t know-

-How is your relationship with Eclipse? –the darkest animatronic said, pronouncing the name of that mafia leader with a hiss, like with especial disgust.

-Excuse me? –you asked, frowning, and knelt to see him as close as you could while being out of reach.

-Just…

-It’s nothing! –Detective Sun intervened, like wanting to cut the conversation out.

-…answer.

-Well, he chases me down now and then, but I don’t quite have an opinion on him especially. Out of reach for me to… do anything against him. Why?

The Detectives stayed silent for a second, like trying to find the words and trying to know how much time they had left until cops arrive to the roof.

-You were going to ask if they knew anything about the case, right. –Detective Moon said, more like a statement than a question.

You nodded slowly, opening your eyes wide. Something wasn’t right. –…why are you asking –you whispered, but they heard perfectly.

-I think you can connect the dots –the lunar one said, as the other fidgeted nervously. Saying things of the old cases is against the rules, he must have been thinking.

You slowly digested it. No, no. No. Absolutely no.

-Eclipse was involved –Detective Moon said, before you could even word your thoughts.

You froze as the cops came inside.

[finalset]

hi, i just found your art and i love it! may i ask a stupid question? did you go to art school or did you teach yourself?? if self taught, do you have any advice? im a self taught artist and i want to get better lmao. i just love how beautiful your work is, very inspiring!

Thank you!! and it’s not stupid! I didn’t go to art school or anything (I did take the elective art classes late in middle school and in early hs too but I’d been drawing since before then and I took those as a requirement to be able to take painting, which I never ended up doing though) so I’d consider myself self taught.

Ok this ended up being long so hopefully it’s not super overwhelming but I hope it helps!

so what has helped me a lot has been thinking about my subject in a 3D sense, I usually try to understand why whatever I’m drawing is structured the way it is. So usually w my portraits I’ll think about the skull underneath or I’ll think about parts you can’t see (like an ear or a nostril if they’re turned slightly etc) on the reference image and it helps me make sense of what I’m seeing.

also drawing parts in relation to another helps a Lot, so I’d line up like the edge of an eye to the corner of the mouth and draw a bunch of lines connecting parts like that to make sure everything is properly distanced and that helps a lot with keeping proper proportions! (you can still do this with non portraits though, looking at negative space is a game changer)

starting sketches w vague shapes and then slowly going more into detail also helps and it’s less daunting than thinking your first few marks need to already be accurate and defined.

for the mental part of it I think understanding every time you draw it doesn’t have to be a Piece will help put the pressure off and it allows u to not be worried about mistakes. (It also makes room for experimentation) Also I used to be very caught up in being upset how my art style isn’t as good as other people’s but realizing no one’s art will ever look like anyone else’s (even if they’re copying) helped me value my work and see it as it’s own entity that doesn’t need to be critically compared to anyone else’s, that’s also just not how it works anyway. that also allowed me to grow quicker when I was able to push mental barriers like that away and work on what I enjoy about making art.

Also artblock is a thing that happens to everyone, I either accept I’m gonna make stuff I don’t like for a while or if I straight up have no inspiration then I need to distract myself in the meantime. Getting into a new or revisiting an old medium does help let you think differently about your art and could help you get out of artblock too though. also drawing a lot of whatever you like does so much for improvement bc then it’s just lots of practice so don’t feel weird ab being obsessed w something or like going through a phase bc it all helps you improve anyway plus you’re spending time on stuff you enjoy too.

Ok ik this ended up being a lot lol but these are some things i feel like have been very important to me as an artist, a lot of these are things I actively use or have to remind myself of still. I also didn’t wanna just be vague like ‘keep going, practice a lot! Don’t compare urself!’ etc. so I hope this was useful & feel free to ask more if you have any questions later too!