#he's building them a rocketship!

[mango-yoyo]

i just woke up and it turns out that Newey to AM is confirmed! according to skysports, he's joining as the Managing Technical Director and as a shareholder. as per this article, he is being paid £30m a year, for a 5 year contract, and he is a shareholder in Aston Martin F1, with a 2.5% stake.

which means he's likely here for a while! this is wonderful news and i'm so excited for AM and what the future holds.

[good-chimes]

Proposing:

Grand Unified Scarian Theory

a single, overarching Scarian romance arc across the whole Hermitcraft and Life series as well as a primer for anyone curious about the early seasons.

We start with NEIGHBOR MEET CUTE in early Season 6:

Season 6 begins in a peaceful pirate bay. SCAR, an established hermit just beginning his third season, is happily making pirate caves. Into this tranquil scene comes GRIAN.

Grian, fresh-faced and new to Hermitcraft, picks a sea-themed base location right next to Scar’s pirate caves. He gets himself set up and starts his base. Even someone like Grian can get newcomer nerves, and he spends the first few weeks desperately trying to act like a normal person instead of the horrible gremlin he really is.

(Some hermits are taken in by this. Doc and Xisuma give him pity diamonds, something that—after getting to know Grian—they noticeably never do again.)

The only person exempt from Grian’s just-a-little-birthday-boy act is Mumbo, whom Grian already knows, clearly has a puppy-crush on, and pursues relentlessly.

Grian and Scar don’t interact much at first. Grian sees Scar for the first time while passing by his base. Scar instantly falls in one of his own caves and dies.

Grian panics.

Grian: I DIDN’T DO IT!

Scar, intrigued by his new neighbor, makes some overtures of interest:

1. Scar leaves a fully enchanted trident at Grian’s base as a welcome present. This is a generous gift for the cute neighbor you have a crush on and frankly the most normal thing either of them do in the entire years-long relationship.

Grian goes ‘huh!’ at the trident, never finds out who sent it, and immediately forgets the whole thing.

2. Scar entertains Grian’s traveling-salesman pitch and buys his overpriced armor boxes.

Multiple jokes about the size of Scar’s wallet. Grian clearly pleased by the transaction.

3. Scar makes Grian a complementary in-joke build (Spongebob’s house by Squidward’s house).

This delights Grian immeasurably for five minutes until he turns back to his prank war with Mumbo.

(Poor Mumbo. Clearly immensely fond of Grian but not sure he wants to be in a relationship with a lit stick of dynamite. This is very understandable.)

By this point Scar obviously kind of clocks that Grian is insane about Mumbo. This isn’t much of a leap. The entire SERVER is aware that Grian is horribly in love with Mumbo.

Ah. That’s okay. Scar backs off a bit. He recognizes when he’s not really in with a chance.

Maybe this thing he has with Grian is just going to be a friendship, and that’s okay! Having a crush is fun even if you’re not going to do anything about it. Scar is going to build some shops about it and be normal.

Both of them are going to be very normal.

FLIRTING (First Stages) – mid-Season 6

Both of them immediately forget to be normal.

Grian has started a detective agency and has no mysteries to solve. Scar instantly invents a cookie-based mystery supervillain called the Jangler and leaves Grian a series of tantalizing cookie-based puzzles for enrichment in his enclosure.

Grian has invented a game where you kill people with rockets. Scar volunteers to get murdered. Both of them are delighted.

Scar and Cub’s business empire is incidentally crushing Grian’s startup venture. There is no reason for this to be so flirtatiously charged.

At this point all the hermits move to a new village because of the Minecraft update. Grian starts a who-can-build-the-tallest-house war with Mumbo and Iskall. Scar notices and starts doing the same from the other side of the village.

It quickly gets so wild that Mumbo taps out (Mumbo does not do well with intensity, would rather just not, thankyouverymuch), and it's only Grian, Iskall and Scar.

Scar builds a wild giant plant eating his rocketship, and then a castle in the sky, and an enormous version of himself firing a canon at Grian's house. This is the first time you can really see Grian trying to hold in shrieks when he flies back in to see what Scar has done while he's gone.

Grian’s interest has been caught. He’s gone from barely seeing Scar to checking on him regularly. What’s our good friend Scar up to? What’s Scar done? What is Scar going to do next?

FLIRTING (How To Catch Your Crush’s Interest By Building A Secret Government Facility) – late Season 6

What Scar does next is put on a snazzy military uniform, team up with Doc to steal the time machine Grian invented last week, then, in the most effort someone has EVER gone to to get Grian's attention, spend weeks on end building a fully-functional 'Area 77' military base and containment facility to stop him getting it back.

Turns out this works beyond Scar’s wildest dreams.

Grian INSTANTLY obsessed with breaking into Scar’s base and retrieving his time machine.

Grian persuades Ren into forming a hippie camp with him next to the base and spends weeks entirely fixated on Scar. Meanwhile Scar, who is starting to really understand how to get and keep Grian's attention, builds more and fancier infrastructure to keep Grian out. This is also where Grian really starts looking at Scar's art—the insane cliffs Scar has build around his new hangers—and awkwardly not quite managing words, because it would be very embarrassing to just outright say the word beautiful, and Grian’s a very normal and non-embarrassing person.

In the climax of the season, Grian-the-hippie breaks into General Scar’s base.

Nobody can say that Scar making himself a top brass general and Grian making himself an anti-establishment flower power hippie does not end up with plausibly-deniable not-making-out Grian-provoking-Scar-into-holding-him-against-a-wall.

but.

BUT.

This is Hermitcraft. It’s temporary. Scar and Grian both know it was a bit. A bit they both got super into, sure! But a bit. Not weird at all.

(“Sure, mate, not weird at all,” Mumbo says, after all of this is over. “Then why are you making it SOUND weird Mumbo you’re the WORST”)*

(“Sooo....” Cub says, and Scar says, “I know. I know!”)*

*not canon but you can't tell me it didn't happen off screen

FLIRTING (But What About…) – early Season 7

Okay, so that was weird, but Grian is definitely still in love with Mumbo. The Mumbo pursuit is going great and Mumbo definitely doesn’t look nervous whenever Grian turns up with a new idea. Grian is going to get Mumbo to fall in love with him and they will marry in the spring and have a dozen beautiful children redstone contraptions.

Grian attempts to make it more official with Mumbo. Surely they have been flirting long enough, they are ready for the next stage! This is in no way a reaction to Scar becoming a weird wizard in a way very unsettling to Grian and building the kind of wild organic tangled forest build that Grian is fascinated by but can't even begin to comprehend.

Everything is very under control in Grian's life. He's now official boyfriends with Mumbo. They live together and have a messaging system and everything.

Mumbo announces he’s moving out.

It’s-not-you-it’s-me

You’re… you’re moving out? Grian says, in the smallest possible voice.

We’ll still have the messaging system, Mumbo says, unconvincingly.

FINE, Grian says, I’m moving out TOO.

Mumbo moves out.

Grian deals with this in the healthiest possible way. He invents a mayorship and attempts to give it to Mumbo.

Grian is Mumbo’s self-appointed campaign manager so Mumbo has to be round him ALL THE TIME, it’s for the CAMPAIGN, Mumbo.

Mumbo, a man who doesn’t deal well with pressure or responsibility, is maybe not the ideal choice for mayor, something that has escaped Grian entirely.

Mumbo builds a robot and attempts to palm off all responsibility for decision-making onto it. Grian immediately calls it their son.

Grian puts his moustache all over the server.

NO other hermits support them for mayor (except Scar, from a lost bet, who Grian has continued to have intensely weird flirtations with while all this is happening)

Things reach a fever pitch. Election day arrives. Mumbo doesn’t want this actually but try telling Grian that. The entire MumboGrian edifice that Grian has obsessively and wildly build has reached an unsustainable pitch and finally comes tumbling down around them.

Mumbo votes Scar for mayor.

Grian votes Scar for mayor.

Mumbo disappears for several weeks to do some nice soothing redstone and calm down.

FLIRTING (Civil War) – late Season 7

Everything has calmed down now. Scar is mayor. Mumbo is...somewhere. Grian is going to work on his base normally.

Grian has a new project. He wants to build in the new nether biomes. He builds a huge and echoing and obsessively inverse version of his huge and echoing and obsessively symmetrical mansion base. It's very impressive. It's totally hollow. There's... no one else here.

Grian decides that okay, he is going to bring PEOPLE here.

He invites Mumbo, because he hasn't seen him in weeks. He invites Bdubs, because Grian above all loves genius. And he invites Scar. Because of course. Everything major Grian does now, Scar is an of course.

Bdubs shows up! Generously builds Grian's entire mansion interior. Mumbo shows up. Builds a tiny upside down disco shack.

Scar does not show up.

Scar is being mayor! Scar is a very busy and important man! Scar has spent the last few weeks obsessively replacing every single goddamn mycelium block in the shopping district with beautifully tailored grass and making trees whose flowers are diamonds. He's also got his own megabase going on. For once Scar has so much to do it's even enough for Scar's ambitions, which have never been small.

He does not come when Grian calls.

Grian is Not Happy.

This is the point where Grian starts a steadily more unhinged campaign of leaving Scar invitations. He makes little tailor's dummies of himself and delivers them to Scar's house. He sets up a tea party of three grians in a secret space under Scar's mayoral throne. He hangs himself in effigy on the tip of Scar's megadrill build. Normal behavior.

And then when Scar still doesn't notice, he puts a tiny bit of mycelium back on one of the streets of the shopping district.

This starts… THE MYCELIUM WARS

Scar attempts to contain the growing mycelium patch with warning tape.

Grian spreads more mushroom spores.

Scar brings in his allies to help contain the growing mushroom patches.

Grian digs out an underground rebel HQ, recruits several rebels, and declares himself Motherspore.

Mayor Scar stares into a camera and uses his most velvety baritone to proclaim he will hunt down Grian and the mycelium resistance and bring them to justice.

Grian sets loose mushroom-spreading sheep.

Mayor Scar obsessively searches for his base.

Grian and Impulse build several decoy bases and trap them.

Mayor Scar employs Mumbo to strip-mine every block of the shopping district with redstone tunnel-borers.

Eventually Deputy Mayor Bdubs, having his own thing with rebel Etho, tricks all of the resistance into ender-pearling into jail.

Scar gets to threaten to pour lava on an imprisoned Grian for ten minutes straight and they’re both enjoying this so much.

Grian: Scar! SCAR! Scar Scar Scar no Scar no Scar no listen Scar

Scar: Yes?

Grian: …Let’s take this somewhere else.

They ‘take this’ to Scar’s beautifully-appointed mayoral office. Grian sits on the arm of his chair (I don’t know what to tell you, this is on-screen canon).

Grian: So I know how to end the war.

Grian: We have to play minigames and make personal bets.

Grian: And Scar, Scar, if you lose…

Scar: Yes?

Grian: … you have to help build my base.

Entire room: [stunned silence]

Etho: Is this what it was about the whole time, Grian?

So! That happened. And the thing is, they could both mentally pass off the area 77 general/hippie stuff as Just A Fun Bit That Got Very Intense.

They can't do this with the mayor/motherspore stuff. They are basically making out on Scar’s chair. The resistance have noticed. The mayoral staff have noticed. EVERYONE has noticed.

Scar is into it. Scar is going along with it. Scar knows he’d had a crush for a long time, and he isn't scared of swimming with a huge wave, never mind where it's going to break. Scar has always embraced the rush. With Grian, you never know what’s going to happen next.

Grian has always loved being around Scar because there’s so much going on that you don’t have to think. Grian doesn’t have to think until everything’s calmed down. It's not until now that he stops and realizes… could this be… something.

(Maybe it already is.)

And then, by whatever eldritch mechanic you personally favor:

3rd life begins.

HEAD-OVER-HEELS – Third Life

In the tiny claustrophobic stripped-bare world of Third Life, Grian makes a choice. Grian thinks, for once very, very clearly: what if it wasn't a bit? What if it was real. What if Grian took every explosive piece of who he was and handed it over to someone he's—okay, he'll admit it—someone he's been obsessed with for a long time. What if that heady sparkle he's been seeing in the corner of his vision is true. What happens if you grab it with both hands?

Scar—surprised, bemused, amazed but wrong-footed—almost doesn't know what to DO with this.

Scar is so used to Grian layering all his obsession behind a thick layer of irony and drama and second-guessing and schemes. ‘Sure we can make out but only if I'm trailing mushroom spores and you're wearing that sash.’ ‘I'm only here because Mumbo's not around.’ ‘It’s not a thing.’ ‘It's not real.’

But it is real.

And, for once, Scar hears a tiny alarm go off in his brain. Scar knows Grian better than anyone else does, by now, and even he doesn't know where this ends. Grian is a force of nature and Scar has never been his unfiltered target. But Grian's throwing himself into this, throwing himself at Scar. And Scar always says 'yes.' 'Yes, and.' 'Yes, let's'. Scar never wants less of Grian. Scar has always taken what he can get.

But with that warning bell, Scar does try to keep that slight layer of dramatic distance, even in this new world where you can die and not come back, even if they don't know if they'll get out of this alive. Scar doesn't fully buy into Grian's second-in-command-devotion, he forces a space for Grian to still be the Grian he knows, some kind of safety vent (‘here's a bee on a lead’). And it could be a lot of reasons, but part of it is…Grian's head-over-heels, for once, and Scar has the unfamiliar feeling of needing to be the one to look where they're going.

Because where they're going is: the last two, all their friends dead, not knowing if there's any way to survive but knowing their friends haven't come back, and at that point Scar takes off the very last of his brakes and the very last of his reservations and says:

For everything you've done for me you can kill me.

(I want this. I want it to be you.)

This breaks Grian absolutely and completely.

And not broken in the fun way! Grian is too far in. Grian let go of Mumbo, who was safe because Mumbo never let it get too far, and he took a risk on Scar, and now Grian is discovering that he didn’t even know what risk meant. Grian is in emotional pain he never suspected existed. Grian has let himself put all his gambling chips on someone who wasn't SAFE and he has lost.

Grian has LOST SCAR and he has LOST HIMSELF and he has FOUND OUT HE CAN BE HURT and he is never going to be the fucking same again.

Scar is in the pond with Grian’s sword at his unresisting neck. And Scar is going to die, and Scar (damn him damn him) has turned it into: he's going to die for Grian. Now Grian is hurting, he's complicit, it turns out grief is an inevitable part of love and beauty, this is all it's taken for Grian's worldview to fall apart in pieces he can't pick up, and Grian has no defenses against pain so there's obviously no way to cope except to beat Scar to death in a cactus ring and jump off a cliff.

AFTERMATH – Season 8

They wake up in Hermitcraft.

They wake up in Hermitcraft! Scar is delighted to find out they just reincarnate, after all that!

Sure, they've all got some lingering trauma but Scar has never let that stop him from doing anything. Scar thought that whole thing went well! He just about dares to think...romantic...? Maybe...?

Grian is Normal to him.

Grian is so fucking normal. it's like. s6 normal.

Scar is. kind of. confused.

Grian is NOT acting like someone he had a romantic death match with.

(Grian is falling apart, but if there's one thing Grian has proved in his building it’s that he’s SO. fucking. good. at facades.)

(Don't go round the back.)

Neither of them are ready for the death game to repeat.

DIVORCE (Traumatic) – Last Life, Season 8

Second death game. Grian deals with his trauma super well by isolating Scar, stealing all his friends, tricking a life out of him, dropping his horse in lava, forcing him into an extortion death loop, then abandoning him and—just as a bonus—murdering Mumbo as well.

This time it’s Scar who comes back falling apart.

A theory that seems plausible: Scar’s old friend Cub picks him up, puts him back together, gets him on his feet. What we do know is that Cub moves in next to Boatem, where Scar is still living with Grian, and incidentally builds an enormous dripstone megabiome that is coincidentally very hostile and might murder you upon landing if you're someone who flies a lot, or happens to be a bird.

There’s a hole with an endless dark void between Scar and Grian’s Boatem bases. They built it together. It’s around this time they both keep repeatedly falling in it.

DIVORCE (But When It Was Good It Was So Good) – Season 8, Double Life

Then the moon gets big. Gets close. Gravity breaks down and that should be the end, should be a way out of this terrible spiral they're in, surely they're better without each other—

Grian turns up at Scar's base and says: Scar. Build us an escape pod.

—and Scar does.

They go out together. Both of them can feel the pull back into each other’s orbit but they’ll die if they acknowledge it. At the end of it all, the void, the protective suits, the unbearable gravity of falling into space together, of holding each other until another uncertain end. They're nowhere but they're in it together.

Is this a good time for another death game? Of course. How much worse can it get.

Double Life, and this time Scar keeps his distance. My soulmate is this allay! My soulmate is my cat! I don’t need a soulmate. Oh—it’s Grian? This whole time? Hahaha. How funny.

Grian: Soo… do you want to base together?

Scar: Do we have to?

Grian: It…might be nice…?

Scar is wary.

He has been burned.

But the pull is still there. The pull is always there. You can’t forget Grian, but you can blunt the edge of him on your skin. Scar is here to take care of these cat-pandas. Grian can do what he likes.

Cheated of Scar’s full attention, Grian tries to tempt BigB into a pale imitation of the Scarian folie à deux (BigB is a genuinely nice man who does not deserve this).

The rest of the server turn red, one by one. Grian and Scar are the last greens. BigB is audibly nervous when Grian proposes a red-green alliance, even though BigB is the red, he has the power. But Grian can’t escape the rest of the server, and the red hunt begins.

Grian and Scar, hunted—trapped at the top of flaming towers, jumping from heights, chased down like foxes at bay, crammed into boltholes with their hands over each other’s mouths, Grian shrieks and laughs and falls back on Scar and Scar catches him and they’re both as alive and elated as they’ve ever been. Scar dies once to Ren and BigB’s zombies and Grian murders both BigB and Ren in revenge (BigB was right to be nervous). Grian has another unhinged murder plan underway when he dies for the last time.

This whole time, Grian was hit in the face by remembering that when it's good, it's so good.

Scar isn’t surprised. Scar has known that forever.

Back in Hermitcraft, its not magically fixed. They’re not innocent any more. But every time Grian looks at Scar he remembers: when it’s good, it’s so good.

And Scar never forgot.

DIVORCE (We’re In Love And We’re Not Done Yet) – Season 9, Limited Life

By now we're into Season 9. They’re still alive. They always live, they always start again, and the other one is just there. Being, infuriatingly and magnetically, them.

Grian is thoroughly annoyed by Scar’s new allegiance to King Ren, but he keeps coming back to Scarland anyway. Scar, I made you an obstacle course. Scar, stand here and get squashed by this anvil. Scar if you don’t do something I’m going to start a resistance.

Grian pretends King Ren doesn’t exist and he has more important things to do, and pretends this so hard that he incidentally invents a mad science robot pulls them all through into the Empires dimension.

Scar, assuming Grian is doing his own thing, shacks up with Jimmy.

It takes Grian three weeks to notice and be shriekingly outraged.

Scar we’re doing a project. Scar you can’t spend all your time with Jimmy! Join my cult. Get in my shrinking machine. I made you an enchanted netherite bow. I need your allegiance. (Another real quote).

Scar teases Grian for weeks then instantly abandons Jimmy when the choice comes down to him or Grian.

Fourth death game—they’re used to this, now. Nothing too intense. Nothing too weird. Grian can’t help murdering Scar.

At this point, Scar is starting to read it as: I love you.

And that’s how we get to the current Scarian dynamic we know and love of you're the worst and I'm the worst and we've divorced a few time but we still like each other so fucking much.

It's been years. They've killed each other every possible way. These two characters are in love and they're not done yet.

[ekat-fandom-blog]

On Dani's tour of the world, she crashes through a weird T shaped building. It's a strange enough building that she decides to snoop around a bit. It's pretty interesting. There were planes and rocketships and a helicopter on the top floor. The next floor was storage. Then there were bedrooms. And bedrooms. And another set of bedrooms. Then there was a library and den. Then a rec room and a kitchen. Then a bunch of boring rooms. For how many bedrooms there were in the tower there was a surprising lack of occupants. She decided she'd bunk in the mostly empty bedroom for a few days before she moved on again.

A few days in, a boy in a red, green, black, and yellow outfit came. And a few hours later, another guy in a red helmet joined them. Both were unaware of their invisible guest. But then again, it seems the boy wasn't expecting anyone to be in the tower. And it was only made more obvious when he went on the defensive as soon as he saw the other boy.

the layout I used is this one

[munson-blurbs]

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12

Summary: After you attend Harris's birthday party, Eddie's forced to confront some big feelings, and a Valentine's date has the two of you navigating a much different type of big feeling.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), oral (f! receiving), fingering, protected p in v, slight breeding kink, very fluffy smut, brief mention of parental abandonment

WC: 8.6k

Chapter 12/20

Eddie's card credit to @girlwiththerubyslippers Mixtape credit to @lofaewrites Divider credit to @saradika

The mingled scents of wood polisher, stale cigarette smoke, and old frying oil invade your nostrils the second you step into Hawkins Lanes. Bowling balls thud as they make contact with the fiberglass lanes, subsequently crashing into the waiting pins. You offer a smile at the exasperated teenager clearly nursing a hangover, holding back a dry heave as he sprays a pair of red and blue shoes with a can of deodorizer that, given the undertones of pungent sweat permeating the air, is likely well past expired.

“I’m here for Harris Munson’s birthday party?” It comes out like a question rather than a definitive statement, and you hold up the gift bag in your hand like it’s some kind of evidence.

The teenager jerks a thumb towards the back left of the building, not bothering to look up. “Party room’s down there,” he mumbles, and you thank him as you walk along the pink and purple carpet.

You’ve arrived a little early, hoping to steal a few moments with Eddie before the chaos of the day begins. Wayne is the only one in the small room, stretching to hang up a sign proudly declaring ‘Happy Birthday,’ each letter a different color of the rainbow. He grins when he sees you approaching, and you hold one end of the sign in place as he adheres it to the door frame with Scotch tape.

“Good to see y’again, darlin’.” Wayne greets you with a grin, taping your side of the banner. 

You put your arm down and return his smile. “You, too!” you chirp, glancing around the room. “Where can I put Harris’s present?”

The older man points to an empty table off to the side. “Right over there should be good,” he figures aloud. “Ed just took Harris to the little boys’ room, but they’ll letcha know otherwise.”

You nod, gently placing the bright yellow bag atop a table covered with a Hot Wheels-themed cloth. Amusement dances on your lips at the realization that Eddie must have splurged on decorations; it’s far better quality than one from the local 99-cent store. 

“Ms. Sweetheart! You’re at my birthday party!” Harris’s enthusiastic voice captures your attention, and you spin around just as he’s launching himself into your arms. A tiny human rocketship. 

“I am!” You laugh, motioning towards the gift table, “and I left your present over there.” 

Harris’s face lights up and he starts towards it, arms outstretched and ready to tear through the tissue paper, but the sound of his dad clearing his throat stops him in his tracks. 

“Remember,” Eddie says, keeping his tone calm but firm, “we’re gonna open everything once all your friends are here, after we eat cake.”

Harris juts out his lower lip in a pout. “But Daddy,” he protests, “I wanna open it now!” He stomps his foot indignantly, and you have to suppress a laugh at how silly it looks with the clown-esque bowling shoe on. 

“Harris, can you wait until you open the ones from your friends?” You phrase it like a favor, hoping to appeal to him that way. “I’m really excited about what I got you and I want them to see you open it, too.” Of course, you couldn’t care less about what a bunch of random four- and five-year-olds think about your gift, but you had to think quickly before the whine escalated to a tantrum. 

He releases a sigh of exasperation but ultimately concedes. “Okay, I guess I can wait.”

Eddie mouths thank you and winks as the four of you walk out to the lanes to wait for Harris’s friends. You feel a hand slip into yours, too small to be Eddie’s, and beam when Harris looks up at you with pure joy.

“Daddy! Grampa Wayne! I’m holding Ms. Sweetheart’s hand!” he exclaims, baby teeth on full display

Eddie ruffles Harris's hair. “I’m jealous.” If prompted, he’ll claim that he’s envious that his son chose to hold your hand instead of his. But you and him–and Wayne, let’s be real–know the real meaning behind his statement.

As Harris’s friends arrive and the birthday boy greets each of them with a hug, you and Eddie spring into action and line them up to get fitted for shoes. There are five kids, three boys and two girls, and though you recognize them as Ms. Marion’s students, you don’t know any of them by name. The bowling shoe laces are flimsy, and a few of them struggle with the fine motor skills necessary to tie them.

“Can I help you with that?” you ask one boy, who nods and extends his leg towards you. You crouch down and rest his foot on your knee as you double-knot the laces. When you finish, you look up to see that the rest of the kids have formed a line for your shoe-tying expertise.

Eddie returns from dropping off the guests’ gifts in the party room, laughing when he stumbles upon the queue of children. “You don’t have to do all that, Sweetheart,” he tells you, using his hands to assess the weight of different bowling balls before distributing them to the kids.

You shrug as you finish tying the last shoes. “I don’t mind.”

Eddie has reserved two lanes for the party, and before anyone can figure out who will be bowling where, Harris is tugging on his Black Sabbath t-shirt.

“We wanna play in teams,” he reports matter-of-factly. You’re not sure who ‘we’ refers to, since you didn’t see him corroborating with any of his friends, but you don’t question it aloud. “Team Harris and Team Daddy.”

Eddie gasps with feigned offense, bringing his palm to his heart. “What? You don’t want me on your team?”

“Nope.” Harris shakes his head, curls swaying back and forth. “I want Ms. Sweetheart on my team.” He pauses as he glances around the group, eyes brightening when his gaze lands on the eldest Munson. “You can have Grampa Wayne.”

“Old man’s probably gonna break a hip.” Eddie grumbles teasingly, picking up a red marbled bowling ball and hoisting it up to his chest.

Wayne scratches the top of his head. “And yet I can still kick your ass.” He keeps his voice low so that little ears can’t hear, but you and Eddie can, and you tuck your lips into your mouth so none of the kids catch on.

Harris is up first, squatting down and using two hands to roll the ball down the lane. His method proves to be somewhat effective when he knocks down a few pins, and the scoreboard screen flashes a giant number 5. 

“That’s how many years I am!” Harris proudly announces, skipping back to where the rest of his team is standing. He cocks his head at the ball return’s open mouth for the neon green ball that Eddie had handed him earlier, eagerly scooping it up when he spots it. Assuming the same stance, he once again rolls the ball and successfully topples two more pins.

Eddie raises his brows incredulously. “Hmm, let me try that strategy.”

“I don’t think there’s enough pins for all of your years,” you quip, and Eddie sticks out his tongue in your direction before mimicking Harris’s approach, knees aligned with his toes. He draws the ball back between his legs and releases it a few inches ahead of him, smirking as it cascades down the lane.

His cockiness is apparently earned, since he gets a strike. He attempts a victory moonwalk, clumsily dragging one foot behind the other in a manner that would make Michael Jackson regret ever making the move popular. The heel of his shoe catches on the floor and he stumbles backwards, landing on his ass.

The kids burst out into peals of laughter, and you and Wayne join in once it is evident that Eddie’s not hurt, only embarrassed. You stoop down, clutching your ball between your palms as you grin. “That’s what you get for gloating,” you whisper in his ear, a joking lilt in your voice. “Try setting a good example for the kids next time.”

Unbeknownst to you, one of the kids, Kelly, strikes up a conversation with Harris while you’re up to bowl. “Is that your mommy?” she asks him, strawberry blonde pigtails softly swishing as she looks over at you.

“No, but she’s gonna be my mommy soon!” Harris replies happily. “She and my daddy are gonna fall in love and then she’ll be my mommy.” His voice lowers as concern mars his words. “But don’t tell anyone, okay? Because it’s my birthday cake wish and I need it to come true.”

Kelly nods, taking this obligation seriously, and she averts her gaze when she spots you walking back to the ball return. Since you’d only knocked down eight pins, you take another turn, slipping your thumb, middle, and ring fingers into the holes, frowning when you don’t get the spare you’d hoped for. 

Harris’s chipperness brings a smile back to your face. “Ms. Sweetheart, can you teach me how to bowl like a grown-up?” He blinks a few times, hammering in his naturally docile nature.

“Of course!”

When it’s Harris’s turn again, Eddie watches you go up with him. It’s noisy, but he zeros in on your sweet tone among the clattering of bowling pins and cacophonous conversations.

“See, you put your middle finger and ring finger here, and your thumb here,” you’re gently explaining. “And then you lift the ball back just a bit, bring it forward, and let it go.” You go through all of the motions without actually letting go of the ball, Harris’s eyes glued to your every move. “You try.”

Harris follows your instructions, pink tongue poking from his mouth in sheer concentration, and knocks down a single pin. Eddie braces himself for his disappointment, maybe even escalation to a tantrum, so he’s pleased when his son spins back with a wide, toothy smile.

“I did it! I knocked it down!”

“You’re amazing! I’m so proud of you, Harris.” Eddie’s posture softens as Harris runs into your arms and gives you a giant hug, tiny fingers digging into your biceps as he squishes the side of his face just below your collarbones. When he does this, Eddie notices that Harris’s cheeks have lost some of their chubbiness; his son’s baby-like features subtly disappearing to make way for attributes of the older child he’s growing into. It brings a slight pang to his heart, and he swallows the emotion and focuses instead on the bonding moment between you and the not-so-little boy.

There’s a shared love; more than that, there’s trust. Harris knows he can rely on you to teach him with kindness and patience, that you won’t berate him or yell at him for doing something incorrectly. You’re his Ms. Sweetheart.

Wayne takes note of the goofy smile adorning his nephew’s face, nudging him before he drops the bowling ball on his foot. “I know you’re in love with her, but she ain’t worth losing your toes over.”

Eddie’s face flushes pink, the tips of his ears burning now that he's been caught. “I’m not in love with her, Wayne.” At least, I didn’t think I was yet, but now I might be.

“Whatever you say,” Wayne mutters under his breath, taking careful steps towards the lane. “You, uh, might wanna wipe the drool from your chin before you take your turn, though.”

Team Harris ultimately wins, mostly because Wayne throws the game so the birthday boy can have a victorious moment. You, Eddie, and Wayne quickly corral the kids into the party room, seating them at a large rectangular table for cake and presents before anyone can take offense over the game results. The three of you breathe silent sighs of relief when you easily shift their focus to the next activity.

Eddie pulls his lighter from his back pocket, flicking it on and lighting the five thin blue and white striped candles unevenly jabbed through the chocolate frosted homemade cake. He picks up the plate, supporting it from the bottom as he leads the group in a hilariously off-key rendition of Happy Birthday.

Harris squeezes his eyes shut before blowing out the flames with gusto, a big grin on his face when he opens them again.

Feeling a hand clap on his shoulder, Eddie swivels his body to see his uncle armed with a disposable Kodak camera. “Let me get a picture of you and the birthday boy,” Wayne insists, peering through the little viewfinder and snapping a photo. Eddie’s crouched down, right arm slung over Harris’s shoulders. Both of them wear matching smiles; the only difference is that Harris is still sporting his baby teeth. 

“Now Ms. Sweetheart!” the little Munson declares. Eddie goes to leave, pressing his palms to his knees and standing up, but Harris grabs his wrist and pulls him back. “No, Daddy. You and me and Ms. Sweetheart together!”

You shuffle over to stand on Harris’s other side. When you place your hand on his upper back, Eddie’s slides over yours, the two of you and Harris chiming “cheese!” in enthusiastic unison. 

Blinking from the brightness of the flash, you extend your arm and make a ‘gimme’ motion with your hand. “Let me get one of the three of you,” you say to Wayne, who begrudgingly places the camera in your outstretched palm. 

Eddie pulls him in closer. “Alright, Munson men. Flex those muscles!” You giggle as the three of them bend their arms to show off whatever biceps they have. 

“Ms. Sweetheart, who’s got the biggest muscles?” Harris asks as you lower the camera. 

You scrunch up your nose as though seriously contemplating the question. “Um, me, obviously!” You smack your own bicep, sending Harris into hysterics.

“That’s so silly!” he cackles, glancing up at Eddie. “Daddy, isn’t Ms. Sweetheart so silly?”

You expect him to agree with his son, but he just puts his hands on his shoulders and gives a quick squeeze as he says, “Nah, she’s the strongest person I know.” Your stomach flip-flops when he peers at you through his impossibly long lashes. He picks up the plate and brings it over to the smaller, empty table. “Let’s cut this cake before the kids start revolting.”

The two of you use plastic knives and forks to divide the cake into slivers and toss them onto paper plates. Once all of the kids have their slices, Eddie licks the excess frosting from his fingers and hands you a plate. 

“Havin’ fun?” He carefully wraps the question in a joking tone, but you can tell that he’s genuinely curious about whether you’re enjoying yourself. 

You spear a piece of your slice with the plastic fork. “I am, actually.” The chocolate melts in your mouth, and your tongue glides over your lips to catch any crumbs. “I haven’t been bowling since I was a kid.”

“And it shows,” he teases, wincing when you flick his cheek. “Hey, now—violence is never the answer. What values are you instilling in these impressionable young minds?”

Harris pops up from his seat, waving an empty plate. Whatever cake bits were left on it have tumbled to the floor. “Daddy, I’m done! Can I open my presents now?”

“Jesus, did you inhale that thing?” Eddie wonders aloud, but ultimately agrees. He grabs a bunch of thin napkins and wipes Harris’s hands and face, laughing when the boy sputters as the paper presses against his lips. “Har Bear, you don’t wanna get your presents all messy.”

Once he’s all cleaned up, Harris grabs each of the gifts and brings them to his seat at the head of the table. He tears through brightly colored wrapping paper at lightning speed. Eddie tries to keep track of who gave what as his son unveils a Hot Wheels track from Charlie and his brother Brendan, a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle action figure from Kelly, a G.I. Joe from Emma, and—regrettably—a tub of Gak from Zachary. He makes a mental note to pick up a harmonica or a kazoo or something else noisy when that kid’s birthday rolls around. 

The last gift left is from you, and you twiddle your thumbs as you await Harris’s reaction. Should I have gotten him a toy?

“It’s a stencil kit,” you feel the need to explain, as though you wouldn’t be able to handle the embarrassment of him asking what it is. “So you can trace shapes for your art. It’s got all different ones: food, animals, holidays…” You clamp your mouth shut, willing yourself to stop talking. 

Your panic is short-lived; Harris’s brown eyes light up as he runs to you and wraps his arms around your legs in another giant hug. “I’m gonna draw you so much things!” he promises, gazing up at you excitedly. 

“I can’t wait to see what you make me.” A drawing from Harris holds a deeper meaning than you ever realized. It’s more than a simple display of creativity; it’s a symbol of love and acceptance into his life. 

He looks at his dad now with pleading eyes. “Can Ms. Sweetheart come to our house after the party so I can draw her a picture? Please?” He stretches out the last word so that it has at least five syllables. 

Eddie looks at you expectantly, a timid smile on his lips. “Well?”

“I think that’s a great idea.” Your response earns you another quick squeeze from Harris before he darts back to his seat to further inspect his gifts. 

Eddie’s warm voice is low in your ear, his fingertips ghosting the small of your back in a manner that lets you—and only you—know how starved he is for touch. “And you can help me get rid of that slime thing, too.”

Once the party has ended and you, Eddie, and Harris are back at their apartment, the cherubic boy takes the stenciling kit into his room. 

“I’m gonna do art in here so you can’t peek,” he declares, clutching the kit to his chest as though there’s already something to hide. 

Eddie chuckles, raking a hand through his curls. “Okay, bud. We’ll be out here, watching TV. You go be a little artíst.”

Once he hears the bedroom door click shut, Eddie puts the TV on a random channel and plops on the couch with a soft oof. You sit down next to him and he puts his arm around you, allowing you to snuggle in closer. The shirt fabric against his underarms is slightly damp with the day’s sweat, but you’re far too comfortable to even consider it an issue. 

Your unsuccessful attempt at stifling a yawn has Eddie grinning. “Can’t hang with the kids anymore?” he goads, lips flush against your scalp. 

“It’s exhausting being on the winning team,” you playfully retort, adding in an over-the -top fake yawn to drive home your point. “Not that you would know.”

“Oh, yeah?” He pulls you closer to pepper kisses across your neck and cheek until you’re a giggling mess. Satisfied with his handiwork, he allows himself to sink deeper into the cushions and lets out a yawn of his own. 

You rest your head on his shoulder, gently brushing his curls back so they’re not in your eyes. A hum of contentment escapes you as you fully relax for the first time today. 

You feel a slight nudge on your chin as Eddie tilts it upwards and kisses your lips. The gloss you’d applied before the party is long gone, a casualty of conversation and cake consumption, but he has no complaints. 

“Been wanting to do this all day,” he murmurs, shooting shivers down your spine. “And when I saw you helping Harris? Baby, I just…” he searches for accurate words. Nothing he can think of seems to fully convey the depth of his feelings, but he tries his best. “I’m so fucking lucky. We’re so fucking lucky.”

The feeling of your body against his relaxes him further; a marvelous white noise replaces the plethora of overanalyzed problems constantly buzzing through his brain. The heaviness of sleep falls over both of you, and you shift your body even closer to his in a primitive quest for the safety his presence brings. Whatever show is on the fuzzy TV set is now a dull hum until it’s muted by the dreams your subconscious brings.

Eddie only stirs fifteen minutes later when the bedroom door hinges give a soft squeak, ears trained to pick up on Harris’s innocuous noises that often precede chaos. Grogginess overpowers attentiveness, so he misses the smile on his son’s face and the way he whispers, “my birthday wish is coming true.”

Gray clouds cover Hawkins the next day, drenching the small town in cold rain. And while Eddie is certainly grateful that it’s not snowing, this means that he has to find indoor activities to keep his endlessly energetic son occupied. 

Luckily, Harris is still enamored with his birthday gifts, particularly the stenciling kit you’d given him. He sits at the kitchen table now, tracing an outline of a cow on a Valentine for his classmate. Eddie’s not quite sure of the correlation between the animal and the holiday, but he’s learned that some battles are best left unfought.

 “That looks great, Har Bear.”

“I know.” Harris agrees, not looking up from his drawing as he says, “Daddy, you should make a Valentime for Ms. Sweetheart.” Before Eddie can answer, Harris slides over a piece of red paper and a black marker.

“I should, huh?” Remembering a trick he learned back in elementary school, Eddie folds the paper and draws half of a heart against the crease. He has to use Harris’s blunted safety scissors, much too small for his fingers, to cut the paper. Pleased when he sees that it actually resembles a heart, Eddie taps the marker against his dimpled chin as he contemplates what to write. “You really like Ms. Sweetheart, don’t you?”

Harris nods, putting down the blue marker he’s using and reaching for an orange one. “Mhm. I love her, Daddy.”

Eddie’s heart soars at the confirmation of Harris’s adoration of you, but he tries not to make it obvious. “That’s, uh, that’s good.” He finally decides on a simple message: Be Mine, and he signs his name underneath with a dash. It feels a little less impersonal than “from,” but isn’t as strong as “love.” Do I love her? He wonders. No, it’s only been one date. He can’t fall in love this quickly. It’s not possible. “How’s this? Be mine,” he reads aloud, underlining each word with his finger.

“Oh, I like that.” Harris picks up a green marker and writes the same two words on a pink sheet of paper. The letters are a little too big for the paper’s limited space, and he ends up squishing the “e” in “mine” very close to the edge. “How do you spell ‘mommy’?”

Eddie’s throat goes bone-dry. “You wanna make a card for your mom?” Harris has never wanted to make anything for his mom before; never brought her up, really, but maybe that was changing now that he was in school and surrounded by children with present mothers.

But Harris shakes his head. “No, it’s for Ms. Sweetheart. I wanna write ‘Be Mine Mommy.’”

It takes Eddie a second to realize that Harris means “be my mommy,” and he massages the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “Um, Har, you can’t just ask her to be your mom.”

“Why not?”

He doesn’t want to tell Harris that wants to make sure you’ll stick around, nor does he want to make a promise neither one of you can keep. “Because you…you just can’t, okay?” It comes out harshly, and he sputters to fix his tone when he sees Harris’s lower lip quiver.

“But it’s not fair! You didn’t have a daddy, so you got Grampa Wayne as your daddy. I don’t have a mommy, so I want Ms. Sweetheart as my mommy!”

Eddie flash backs to their zoo trip, when Harris had innocently asked him if Wayne had taken him out on father-son days. There’s no child-friendly way to articulate that Wayne had initially been legally obligated to act as his guardian. “I know, bud. I know you do–”

“Then why can’t I ask her?” His expression shifts from anger to confusion, brows pinching together.

Because she could say no, Eddie thinks. Because the responsibility of being a mommy was too much for your biological mother to handle; why would Ms. Sweetheart take it on? What if she doesn’t have a problem being your mommy, but she finds issue with the idea of being connected to me?

He takes a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. “Look, Har. I know you want her to be your mommy. And between you and me, I’d love for her to be your mommy, too.”

“But–”

“But, grown up feelings are weird sometimes,” he presses on, borrowing your verbiage from Thanksgiving, “and feelings like love take time. But I’m gonna make you a promise right now.” He sticks out his pinky finger. “I promise that if me and Ms. Sweetheart fall in love, I’ll tell you, and I’ll let you ask her to be your mommy. Is that a deal?”

Harris looks dubious, but ultimately hooks his pinky around his dad’s. Eddie breathes a sigh of relief that the crisis has been averted for now.

“Before we can ask her to be your mommy,” Eddie continues, “I need to figure out the perfect Valentine’s Day date to impress her. Wanna help?”

Harris purses his lips in concentration, resting his chin in his hand. “How about McDonald’s? They have a ball pit!”

Eddie has to tuck his lips into his mouth to keep from laughing out loud. “A definite contender,” he finally manages. “I’ll keep it in mind.”

Friday night. Valentine’s Day. 

You had been unsure whether Eddie wanted to do anything for the holiday; your relationship was still so fresh, and you didn’t want him to feel pressured. When he crept into your classroom Monday morning with a coffee and a heart-shaped note—far more conspicuous than he’d intended to be—you couldn’t hide the excitement on your face. 

The card reads Be Mine and currently resides under a magnet on your fridge, finding a home among the plethora of drawings from Harris. It’s got some creases in it that Eddie had explained were the result of Harris shoving it into his backpack that morning. You thought it was perfect as is. 

“Are you free on Friday? For Valentine’s Day?” he’d asked, shoving his hands in his jean pockets. When you answered in the affirmative, he visibly relaxed. “Great. I’m taking you out.” His smile lights up his face. “Wear something that you don’t mind getting messy, and I’ll pick you up at 6.”

You’d wanted to try and pry more information from him, but Carol Perkins and her son Frankie walked in just then, and you’d put away the heart as quickly as you could as Eddie scrambles from the classroom. 

You stand in your bedroom now in your Levis 501s and a fuzzy red sweater, taking one last look at your makeup in the mirror reflection. You scrape your fingernail along the bottom of your lip to wipe off any excess gloss. Underneath your outfit is a special surprise, wishful thinking if the night goes well.

At 5:55, you sling your pocketbook over your shoulder and make your way down to the lobby. You spot Eddie the moment you step out from the elevator. He’s pacing, hands shoved in his dark wash denim pockets and lower lip pinched between his teeth.

Your voice draws him from his thoughts. “Happy Valentine’s Day, baby,” you say, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him so your stomachs touch. “You look really, really handsome.”

“You’re…you’re beautiful.” He’s almost breathless as he says it, eyes roaming down your body and taking in the view. The way your sweater drapes the slope of your breasts has his heart leaping into his throat. He kisses you slowly before proclaiming, “My beautiful Valentine.”

You reach into your purse and pull out a tiny red gift bag, letting it sway and dangle from your fingertips. “I got you a little something.”

The tissue paper crinkles as Eddie rifles through it to pull out a silver lighter, much heavier in his palm than the usual plastic Bic he uses. “Sweetheart, this is…” He takes a closer look and reads aloud the engraved words etched on the front. “Fill my heart with song…”

“It’s from Fly Me to the Moon. Because of Thanksgiving, when you played the record, and Grandma…” you trail off, not wanting to get choked up, “and because you’re a rockstar. My rockstar.” You kiss his lips again, feeling his palm softly cup your cheek.

“I have something for you, too. Um, I didn’t get to wrap it, but I hope you like it.” He unzips his jacket, exposing the gray t-shirt clinging to his pecs. He digs into the inner pocket and clutches a cassette tape, handwritten label stating,“Ms. Sweetheart’s Mix.”

“‘S nothin’ crazy, just some songs that remind me of you.” There’s an array of genres and artists on there. Guns ‘N Roses, of course, as well as Frank Sinatra. There’s Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar on Me, Un-Break My Heart by Toni Braxton, and a plethora of songs with ‘sweetheart’ in the title: Bob Dylan’s Sweetheart Like You, Bing Crosby’s Let Me Call You Sweetheart, The Spaniels’ Goodnight Sweetheart Goodnight. 

Tears prickle along your lash line, and you blink them away before you smudge your mascara. “Thank you, Eddie. I love it.” You hold the gift in two hands, giving it a small shake to emphasize your excitement.

A small pang in his chest has Eddie realizing that he wishes you’d ended that statement with you instead of it, but he tries to shove the thought down by kissing you, tongue parting your lips, hand traveling up your side. His hands aren’t even touching skin, only your sweater, yet it’s so electrifying that you feel your thighs clench in wanting.

“C’mon,” you urge him gently, “let’s go on this date before we end up making out in the lobby all night.”

Eddie cocks his head. “Would that be such a bad thing?”

“Eddie…” Truthfully, you’re thinking the same thing, but your desire for a romantic Valentine’s Day date with him propels you towards the door. You take his hand so he dutifully follows.

“Fine,” he relents with an exaggerated sigh, smile showing off the soft dimples in his cheeks. “But only because you’ve got me wrapped around your little finger, y’know that?”

“Oh, I know.”

Twenty minutes later, Eddie’s car pulls up to The Novice Chef. You’ve never been–taking care of Grandma didn’t allot you much time for hobbies–but Jess has told you about their incredible cooking classes. She and Robin went to one right before Thanksgiving and insisted that they’d perfected the art of turkey basting.

“Figured we could learn how to make pizza since we’re basically funding the local Surfer Boy,” Eddie grins, turning the key in the ignition. The car stills and the two of you unbuckle your seatbelts, pushing open the car doors. “Just, uh, no olives on my half.”

You find an unoccupied cooking station with two aprons on it, the venue’s cursive logo displayed on the front in an eager advertisement. You slip one over your head and Eddie does the same, twirling his finger in a turn around motion. You feel the brush of his fingers on the small of your back as he ties the strings in a bow. After returning the favor for him, you squeeze his waist, giggling when he yelps in surprise.

“What was that for?”

“I dunno; you’re just really squeezable.”

Eddie just shakes his head, already missing your touch after that brief moment. He slides a rubber band down his wrist and ties his hair in a bun at the nape of his neck before slipping his rings off of his fingers. He flexes his hands, almost taken aback by their nakedness, and you suppress a heaving sigh when you catch sight of the protruding veins, dark purple snakes that disappear amongst soft arm hair.

“All right everyone, let’s get started.” The unfamiliar voice brings your attention to the front of the room, where the instructor is standing behind his own station. “My name’s Argyle, and I’ll be your tour guide on our journey through Flavortown.” He claps his hands and rubs them together. “First thing we’re gonna do is knead the dough.” He gives a demonstration and then invites the class to try on their own.

“Damn, that dude has some badass hair,” Eddie muses, noting the man’s long raven locks that are pulled back into a waist-length ponytail. He nods approvingly and flips the silver bowl of dough onto the table. A small puff of flour rises as it hits the surface with a thwack, and you’re very glad you’d heeded his warning not to wear something new.

Eddie presses the heel of his palm into the dough, kneading it with precision. Flatten, stretch, flatten, stretch, until he’s satisfied with the consistency. He shapes it into a thin circle, fingertips digging into the edges to form the crust. The movements are hypnotizing, and it’s not until he clears his throat that you bashfully realize you’ve been staring.

“Y’good, Sweetheart?” A sly, knowing grin stretches from one cheek to the other; now you’re certain that he’s caught you.

“Y-Yeah.”

The next step is to spread the sauce onto the dough, Argyle explains, and Eddie places the crust onto the pan and steps aside so you can take over. You dip the ladle into the pot, filling it to the brim. Bits of dried basil and oregano swim in a red tomato sea as you use the ladle’s base to evenly distribute it across the crust. 

“Y’got a little somethin’ on your face.” Eddie whispers in your ear, making you stop mid-swirl. 

“Huh? Where?” You use the back of your free hand to wipe at your cheeks and chin for any sauce that may have splattered, but a close inspection shows nothing. 

Eddie leans over you, his chest flush against your back. You fight the urge to press the curve of your ass to the seam of his jeans, wiping a sweat-slick palm on your apron. “Right…” he swipes his finger down the ladle’s curved side, catching some sauce and dotting it on the tip of your nose, “here.”

“Eddie!”

“Don’t worry; I’ve got it.” He leans over and licks the sauce off, a quick lap of his tongue on your skin. The unexpected sensation makes you giggle louder than you’d intended. You clap a hand over your mouth, surely smudging the gloss, but you’ve already drawn the instructor’s unwanted attention.

“Lovebirds, are we here to flirt or to make pizza?” Argyle punctuates his rhetorical question with an exasperated sigh. You duck your head in shame and Eddie just coughs to stifle his own mischievous laughter.

“All right, now for the cheese,” Argyle continues, dipping a hand into a glass bowl and retrieving the ingredient. “Some people think that ya just pile it on; the more cheese, the better, but there’s an art to–hey, not cool, man!” He’s looking right at Eddie, and you glance over to see your date drop a handful of shredded mozzarella into his open mouth.

“Sorry,” he mumbles through a mouthful of cheese, but you’re willing to bet that his apology is anything but sincere.

Argyle rolls his eyes, not even attempting to hide his irritation. “You got one more strike, and then you’re out.” He points one finger at Eddie and then jerks his thumb backwards to emphasize his point.

“Yes, sir,” Eddie salutes, and you elbow him in the ribs.

Once the cheese has been sprinkled across the sauce–whatever remains after Eddie’s impromptu snack, anyway–you reach for the mushrooms. Eddie’s sharp gasp makes you freeze up before you can grasp any.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he demands, placing his flour-coated hands on his hips.

You flick your gaze from the bowl of mushrooms to his impatient face. “Um, putting toppings on the pizza?”

“Not that one, you’re not,” he argues with a disapproving shake of his head. “Vegetables don’t belong on pizza.” He picks up the bowl of pepperoni and starts layering the slices on top, either unaware or indifferent to the fact that some of them stick together in a double layer of cured meat. “This is more like it.”

You nudge him, triumphantly layering mushrooms around where he’s placed the pepperoni slices. “It’s called compromise, Eddie. It’s how relationships work.”

His jaw drops and he places his hand over his heart like a southern belle who’s just been presented with extraordinary gossip. “Oh, this is a relationship?” He snickers when you give him a small shove. “I had no idea. I just thought we were two friends who make out sometimes.”

“God, I hate you.”

“I hate you, too.”

An hour later, stomachs filled with pizza that might rival Surfer Boy’s, you and Eddie return to your apartment. A tense stillness fills the air when he walks you to your door, daring either of you to speak your mutual desire into existence.

You’re the one to break the silence. “I had an amazing time tonight, Eddie.”

“Yeah?” he asks almost incredulously, as though he doubts the truthfulness behind your words. He pushes the insecurity aside with a joke. “Even though I almost got us kicked out?”

The memory brings a smile to your face, though you would imagine that the annoyed instructor would not share the same sentiment. “I still need to get you back for that.” You lick his nose and giggle, knocking his hand away when he lifts it to his face. “Don’t wipe it off!”

“And what if I do?” Eddie takes a step closer, resting one hand on the small of your back and putting the other on your cheek. He kisses you and you lean into it, pressing your body against his. His tongue parts your lips, and you hook a finger into his belt loop as you melt into each other.

“Do you wanna come in? Or do you have to get back home to Harris?” You’ve pulled the trigger. There’s no turning back now, and though you’re certainly in a healthier place than the last time you’d made this suggestion, the fear of a similar reaction has your heart in your chest.

He shakes his head, nose rubbing against yours. “Wayne’s staying with him tonight.” He omits the fact that his uncle was the one who’d offered to babysit overnight, a not-so-subtle hint at his expectations of Eddie’s evening plans.

“All night?”

“All,” he kisses you again, “night.”

You fumble with your keys and unlock the door, Eddie wrapping his arms around your waist from the back as though he never wants to let go. As soon as you get it open, its grimacing creak mere background noise to the pounding in your ears, you’re kicking off your shoes and pulling Eddie into the bedroom.

Your hands on his shoulders pin him against the door, only moving them to the hem of his shirt to begin tugging it over his head. It proves to be a difficult task as you try keeping your lips on his neck, but he wraps his fingers around your wrists and stops you.

“Been dreamin’ about worshiping this body…you,” he clarifies, pupils blown so wide that they overtake his chocolate irises. “Please,” he adds, a slight break in his voice. His begging starkly contrasts the bravado that dominated his personality the night you’d met. There was no patience or tenderness, just teeth clashing and hands searching for the fastest and easiest way to bring pleasure.

You nod. “I have a surprise for you first.” You take off your sweater, drawing it slowly up your torso to build up the anticipation, and toss it to the side.

Eddie goes slack jawed at the sheer mesh bra that leaves nothing to the imagination, just as you’d expected him to. He quickly snaps his mouth shut and swallows, a last-ditch attempt to salvage his machismo before he fully loses his mind.

“It’s a matching set, if you wanna see.” 

“Uh-huh.” Eddie walks over, pressing kisses to your collarbones that leave your knees weak. His thumbs graze your breasts, slipping the bra straps down and unhooking the clasp. It falls to the ground and he stoops a bit, bringing his mouth to one hardening nipple and sucking it before moving onto the other. “Perfect.” He trails kisses down your stomach, dropping to his knees as he does. “Perfect.” He lifts one hand, kissing each individual finger right on the first knuckle. “So perfect.”

He remains on his knees as his nimble fingers, still cold from the brief walk to your building, unbutton your jeans, and you shimmy out of them eagerly. His eyes widen when he sees that your panties do, in fact, match your bra: a red-tinted mesh thong that has everything on display.

“Baby,” he moans, grabbing one ass cheek in each of his big hands and pressing soft kisses to your clothed pussy. “Baby…f’me?”

“All for you, Eddie.” Your breath hitches when you feel his lips graze your most sensitive spot. He’s not intentionally teasing you, but logic has no place in your current state.

He kisses down your thighs. “Lay down f’me, yeah?” You do as he asks, laying your head down on the pillow as your body sinks into the mattress. Eddie climbs on top of you, slotting one knee between your slightly open legs. He brings his lips to your ear, gently biting your earlobe and singing in a low murmur, “got it bad, got it bad, got it bad…”

You giggle, the breath from his whisper tickling the shell of your ear, and you tilt your head slightly so you can see his face. “Can I undress you now?” He nods, and you wrestle with his shirt to expose the pale expanse of skin. There’s a dusting of curls across his chest, thicker in the middle and thinner around his nipples. You plant a kiss on his left bicep and drag your palm down his tummy, practically concave during his teenage years but now has a slight softness to it, stopping when you reach the bulge in his pants. He groans at your touch, and you feel his cock twitch slightly. Eager to alleviate his pent-up energy, you undo the button and tug down his zipper, cupping his erection through his navy blue boxers.

“Not yet,” Eddie mumbles, “not done showing you how much I l–care about you. How much you mean to me.” With a burning in his cheeks from what he’d nearly admitted, he drags your thong, a wet patch formed on it, down your thighs and past your calves until it drops to the ground unceremoniously. He balances your legs on top of his shoulders and pulls himself in closer, nudging your clit with his nose as he licks a stripe up your folds. His lips wrap around your sensitive bud, brushing it with his tongue. Soft brown eyes peer up at you, desperately seeking your approval.

“F-Feels good,” you manage, words caught in your throat as pleasure seeps into your body. “Please keep going.”

Eddie needs no further convincing, reveling in your growing wetness against his face while slipping his middle finger into your pussy. You whimper at the feeling of him inside you, bracing yourself for a comment about how needy you are, but he just continues to draw you closer to your orgasm. His finger glides in and out, in and out, rhythmic but not too slow. The bed shifts ever-so-slightly, and you realize he’s rutting his hips against the mattress, desperate for relief.

Your hand finds purchase in the curls adorning his scalp, digging your fingers into them and giving a small tug. Eddie lets a second finger into your tight hole, curling them upwards and hitting your sweet spot over and over.

“Right there, th-that’s it, please, Eddie,” you beg, your moans barely audible over the sounds of him fervently fingering you and lapping at your cunt. “Fuck, Eddie, ‘m gonna cum!”

Eddie just lets out an “mmm,” in acknowledgment, the vibrations shooting through your core and bringing you right to the edge. Your release overtakes you and your thighs instinctively squeeze against either side of his head. He makes a mental note to ask you not to do that because he absolutely needs to hear every noise you make while you cum.

“Y’good?” he asks as you drift down from the high, still perched between your legs. He wipes his slick-glistened lips with the back of his hand before licking the taste of you from his fingers. “I can keep going, trust me.”

“Need you closer.” You try to sit up, but your legs fail you, and you flop back onto the bed. “I have condoms in the top drawer–”

“Brought my own,” he grins, reaching into his back pocket–now positioned just under his ass from the way he’d dry humped the bed–and pulls out three connected foil packages. “Ribbed, for her pleasure.”

“Such a gentleman,” you tease, but it’s the truth. The way he took care of you, made sure you were okay after, offered to continue eating you out despite the raging hard-on he’s sporting…his chivalry isn't lost on you. You watch as he strips down until his body is rid of any clothing, tearing one wrapper and rolling the rubber down his cock, and you bite your lip in anticipation of its delicious stretch. 

There’s an unspoken disappointment at the addition of the barrier, regardless of its practicality. You want to be as close as you possibly can without anything in the way, but neither of you are in any rush to give Harris a sibling.

Imagine it, though, Eddie can’t stop himself from thinking. Imagine the intimacy of filling her up every night until she’s carrying my baby. Taking any little bit that drips out and stuffing it back inside to make sure it takes. Imagine kissing her growing bump every morning to greet her and our unborn child.

He puts one thigh on either side of yours, looking into your eyes as he asks, “Yes?”

“Yes.”

Eddie lines up with your entrance, pushing in gently and keeping his gaze trained on the way you take him in. Inch by inch, he disappears into your wanting hole until he bottoms out. He holds your hips while he finds a steady pace, and as soon as you arch your back, he’s slipping his hands around your waist just above the curve of your ass. “I can’t believe you’re mine,” he whispers. “You make me so fucking happy.”

Your hands grasp at his shoulder blades and you kiss him, tongues intertwining while you moan into each other’s mouths. “I’m always yours, if that’s what you want,” you promise, wrapping your legs around his.

“Of course, that’s what I want. Most beautiful girl in the world, asking me if I want her to be mine.” He grins cheekily, burying his head in the crook of your neck and sucking on it lightly before asking, “do you want me to be yours?”

“Yeah,” you exhale as his cock presses against your walls. “Yeah, I want you to be mine.” You smile, moving your hands to the nape of his neck and deepening the kiss. You want to be the only one he touches like this, the one who goes to bed next to him every night and wakes up next to him every morning. The one who celebrates his wins with him and brings comfort during the losses. You want everything that comes with belonging to each other.

Eddie thrusts into you, pulling wanton moans from your lips. “Say my name,” he pleads. “Need to hear you say it.”

“Eddie,” you pant, not able to fathom a single thought beyond the pleasure you’re feeling and who’s bringing it to you. “Eddie, ‘m so close. You feel too…too good.” Good is an understatement; perhaps a more accurate adjective would be euphoric, but finding a more elaborate term is low on your priority list.

Eddie’s peak is not far behind, with the feeling of your warmth around him bringing him closer every second. “Always wanna make y’feel good, baby,” he says. His face hovers just above yours, a bead of sweat sliding down the bridge of his nose onto the tip of yours. “I gotta–”

“Cum for me, Eddie,” you tell him, and with your permission, he pistons his hips a final time and spills into the condom. Your walls contract around his length as you finish with him.

Eddie stays inside you as the two of you catch your breath, smiling and stealing kisses from each other. He’s never felt anything like this before; for him, the thrill of sex is typically fueled purely by the primal instinct to get laid, but he’s in no rush to let you go. His cock begins to soften and he slowly pulls out, chuckling when you whine at the loss of fullness.

“Gotta toss this,” he says, removing the condom with a soft hiss and tying a knot. “Then I’m gonna hold you, mmkay?” Part of him is waiting for the post-sex adrenaline to wear off and the inevitable crash down when he realizes he’s mistaken lust for passion, urgency for belonging, but that doesn’t happen. As much as he’d love to be inside you again, hearing and feeling your satisfaction as you unravel for him, what he wants more than anything is to lay next to you and keep you safe. Safe from what, exactly, he’s not sure, but something compels him to protect you.

He takes you in his arms, the two of you a tangled, sweaty mess of naked limbs. Perspiration mats his sparse chest hair to his skin, but you press your cheek to it anyway and breathe in his scent. Your body grows heavier as sleep overtakes you, but Eddie’s low voice pulls you back for just a second.

“Baby?”

“Hmm?”

I love you. The words want to flow freely but come to a screeching halt on the tip of his tongue. It’s only your second date, and his mind is clouded with the sappiness of Valentine’s Day and oxytocin; what if he just thinks he loves you? Or what if he truly does, but you don’t feel the same way? Would you tell him, or would you pretend to reciprocate to spare him the hurt? Which is worse?

I love you. But it’s too soon to feel that, to know it for certain. And if he rushes things, he’ll get Harris’s hopes up–get his own hopes up–only to be met with heartbreak and disappointment.

I love you. And what would that admission accomplish, anyway? Where would you go from there? What would it change?

“Get some rest,” is what he settles on, biting the inside of his lower lip in shame. He kisses your forehead and watches you drift off, grateful when the exhaustion of the evening hits him and he follows suit.

I love you, is his last thought before he falls asleep, but he convinces himself that he’s not ready to speak it into existence. 

--

taglist:

@kelsiegrin @lma1986 @munsonology @stuckontheceiling @avobabe87 @eddapwinchester @peachysink @browneyes8288 @jeremyspoke-inclasstoday

@breezybeesposts @wednesdaymunson @feltonswifesworld87 @take-everything-you-can @bebe07011 @81rain @dylanmunson @oscarisaacwhore @eddiesguitarskills @everheart12 @etherealglimmer @hollster88 @wh0re4life @siriuslysmoking

@bibieddiesgf @winchester-angel @starlitlakes @avalon-wolf @hazydespair @josephquinncore @daydreaminglisa @sidthedollface2 @eddiebaemunson @mandyjo8719 @daydreaming-mood @aol19 @corkadymu @starcourtnights

@rockstarmunsons @metalhead-succubus @boinkybarness @oohworldofpisces @costellation-hunter @toobsessedsstuff @meadow20 @theweasleyskettle @lost-in-the-stars03 @elizabethmidnight2017 @aysheashea

@chamomileh0ney @dream-a-little-nightmare @emma77645 @kurdtbean @sheneedsrocknroll92 @tlclick73 @lolly-in-a-strange-land @bakugouswh0r3

@strangerthingsstories5255 @adaydreamaway08 @itsalltaken @harmfulb1tch @mimischaos @averagemisfit03 @steddiegarbage @vigilanteshit @ellendemeyer152 @sierrahhh @hiscrimsonangel @mrsjellymunson @idkatee

@quentinswife @eddiesguitarskills @momowhoo @jasminelafleur @mmunson86 @mcueveryday @augustsgetawaycar @let-love-bleeds-red @inesven @tanyaherondale @theintimatewriter

[mkarchin713]

Reporter: So Mr. Masters whey made you decide to go into privatized space flight

Vlad with an invisible Danny clenching his shoulders threateningly and an army of space obsessed ghosts behind him: you know … for science … and the good of mankind…

Do you think Vlad Masters knows that if he invests even a dollar into a privatized space agency that Danny will immediately appear in his limo and demand to see everything said agency has created?

[yanmuffins]

asks.

there are quite a few asks on my ask box so i'm reply to some of them collectively on this post!

unfortunately he's alone in that. jon could have been his stacy but he's got a crush on reader and has too much fun with their invetions. damian thinks he's a traitor.

@megasweetbones

"perry and alfred used to be secret agents of the british royal family"

now that's a very old platypus.

i like the idea of tim being the most unsettled by the platypus out of everyone. tripping him might or might not have been on purpose. we'll never know! but after a while, tim is just conviced the platypus' got some weird business about it. typical wayne paranoia, sure, but he swears there's something about that weird little amalgamation of animals he can't really pinpoint. he swears he's looking at him weird. and he swears he's scaring him on purpose, appearing out of nowhere.

"calm your tits, tim. it's just a platypus." jason says, "they don't do much."

but tim really can't help glaring at perry the very normal regular domesticated platypus whenever he's seen in reader's arms.

@randomlyappearingartist

alfred absolutely knows about the invetions. no he will not tell bruce about them. he sees bruce and the others barely noticing reader exists, how dismissive they are, and he's like "i'll tell them to ask their father for permission first. if master bruce doesn't notice the legally binding papers or the outlandish gadgets around the manor then that's his problem, honestly."

the most he does is very cryptically allude to it, in hopes the family will take notice of reader. as expected, it doesn't work. he just lets reader do whatever they want as long as they consult their father firts and promise to be careful.

the thing about phineas! reader is that they are a regular teenager (if you take away the gifted genius who can build rocketships to the moon in a single day part) who's just in it for the fun. creating all those crazy gadgets and invetions, letting their creativity flow, having fun with their friends, spending every summer day like it's the last one before they go back to school.

if perry got them a job at the justice league, i think reader would deny it. they're not particularly interested in vigilantism or heroism for that matter. they might consider it after high school is over, but for now? all they want to do is be a teenager. not a very conventional teenager, but a teenager nonetheless.

and tbh it's more of a psychological thing, not being able to build. it's like all of those ideas are bottling up inside their head, going to waste, with them being unable to do anything about it.

well, it's not like they can't do anything about it, but having the batfam limiting what they can and cannot do, watching over their shoulder, isn't exactly providing them the enrichment they need.

but since damian and jon are determined to help, reader doesn't have to worry about that for long!

reader is actually a citizen of metropolis! or was, since they're now in gotham. a big adjustment.

the meeting between jon and reader happens thanks to damian. he's fully expecting jon to be an ally in busting his new sibling. he's complained about them countless times before, to the point jon's tired of hearing about them.

but he actually meets them and, hey, they're super cute and super cool! it's kind of amazing they come up with their inventions so fast. so he goes from reluctantly humoring damian to actively helping reader. maybe even with his own powers. damian can do nothing but shake his head and sigh wearily. jon is an idiot.

the scene in question anon is referencing, at 0:16.

the concept is so funny, anon, but hm... i wonder if jon wouldn't just straight up tell reader about it. he wants to be included, so i don't think it'd be long before he's using his powers to help reader with their inventions.

it is at times like these the batfam has to thank the universe reader is chaotic good and would never turn to villainy. because then damian can enjoy having a super awesome sibling who gives him all sorts of elaborate weapons for him to practice with!

nevermind that he's asking for these just so he can bring the weapons you built to bruce and prove once and for all you're not the harmless kid they think you are, but that's before he realizes the weapons are kinda good. and he kinda wants to keep them, which wouldn't be possible if he handed them over to bruce.

so he'll keep these a secret. just these.

[dsybouquet]

thinking about astrophysics student! ellie who stays over at your apartment to study together but the study session results in the two of you getting frustrated and hitting a joint together before falling asleep in your bed. this has been your study circle for the past two years of university now. she wakes up to find your spot next to her empty and decides to get up.

ellie stumbles upon you in your kitchen brewing coffee. you only wearing a band tee and shorts with your hair still messy from sleeping and your glasses low on your nose scrolling through your phone.

her heart drops and she thinks you’re so beautiful like this and just stares at you without saying good morning, resulting in you flinching when you notice her presence.

“Gosh Ellie ! Don’t creep up on me like that!”

your voice is still sleepy and you get up from your seat to pour coffee in a cup for her and in one for you.

“Black?”

“Black, please, yeah. Thank you.”

you share a comfortable silence while drinking coffee but ellie cant stop looking at you. her tummy feels funny and she can’t help but to think about kissing your pinkish lips.

“Are you okay? You’re so quiet?”

your soft voice made her cheeks burn with heat as she caught herself getting lost staring at you.

“Yeah. Tired still.”

her eyes met yours, causing you to smile.

“Wanna continue studying? or watch a movie?”

you suggested, smiling still. of course you should he studying for the upcoming exams but the couch and a movie (and ellie) looked way too appealing right now.

“Studying, then a joint, then a movie?”

Ellie then suggested, smiling, knowing she just wants to help you with astrophysics and see how you look at her with doe eyes, begging for an explanation on how this works.

you sighed, not wanting to study further, but agreed. after all, you had to pass your exams somehow.

after hours of suffering, cigarette and coffee breaks in between, you called it quits, knowing your brains won’t hold onto more informations.

all curled up with a tea and a joint, you sat on your bed. the tv was playing a movie you were semi interested in. the conversations you had were way more interesting.

“And you what ?! Ellie that’s crazy! Why did u never tell me!”

she told you a story about how she was winning science contests in her middle school every year by building miniature rocketships that were actually working.

“I’m just too interested in this shit.”

“You’re a nerd”

“And you love me for it.”

you blushed. maybe you did. after all, you were university besties for two years now. seeing each other every day, having coffee, study sleep overs.. you wanted to kiss her ever so often but never dared.

“I do.”

she smiled.

“Thought so.”

you just stared at her eyes, taking another hit. her lips looked so pretty, so soft. she thought about it to, about how your lips may feel on hers.

before any of you said a word, you leaned in, getting closer.

“May I?”

she asked, so gentle you were about to melt away.

“Do it.”

her lips landed on yours. a soft kiss, a loving one. her lips were as soft as you imagined them to be. her hands were placed on your cheeks, while you tried to balance out your weight with both of your hands on her thighs.

you backed off after a while. before you could say anything, ellie apologised, rubbing her neck.

“Sorry, I didnt mean to-“

you kissed her again, this time deeper, more demanding.

“Don’t apologise. All is well.”

You put the joint in the ashtray, smiling at her gently.

“Been wanting to do that for a while.”

[yamujiburo]

✨YAMUJIBURO F.A.Q.✨

Should've made this a while ago! I'm starting to get a lot of the same questions in my inbox nowadays tho and I feel bad for clogging up y'all's timelines with the same questions haha

GENERAL QUESTIONS

Who are you?

I'm Kiana, I'm a queer, Japanese Jamaican woman, and a Director/Storyboard artist at Disney Television Animation.

What are your pronouns

I usually go by she/her but I don't really mind any pronouns~

Where did you go to school?

California College of the Arts (but I dropped out when I was hired at Disney)

How did you get hired at Disney?

My bosses found me on twitter through my Team Rocket fanart. They liked my drawing style and asked if I wanted to take a storyboard test. I did, I passed, I got interviewed and moved to LA two weeks later to start storyboarding.

Is this a repost blog??

No, you might know be better as @kianamaiart. This is just my Pokémon sideblog where I post exclusively (for the most part) Team Rocket and Pokémon art.

What does your username mean?

It's a combination of the main 4 Team Rocket members' Japanese names: Yamato (cassidy), Musashi (jessie), Kojiro (james), Kosaburo (butch)

What program and brush do you use to draw?

Default brush in Storyboard pro

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

GENERAL POKEMON QUESTIONS

Who's your favorite Pokémon?

What are your favorite ships?

Any ship with Jessie. Yamushipping, Rocketshipping and Hanamusashipping are my top three!

Who do you ship Ash with?

I was a big Pokéshipper when I was younger but nowadays don't really feel strongly about any of the ships involving the kid characters. I'm also in the "Ash is aroace" camp.

Do you have any trans headcanons?

You can find em here along with other headcanons! It should be noted that I don't usually marry myself to one hc (unless it's for a specific AU I'm trying to build out) and love seeing various interpretations of a character! Trans woman Jessie, Trans woman James, Trans man James, Genderfluid Jessie, give em to me!

Do you play the games?

I've played all the mainline Pokémon games and very much enjoy them! But I am much more invested in the anime and the characters in the anime.

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

HANAMUSA AU QUESTIONS

Where can I read all the comics in order?

Here! I update anytime I make a new comic and list them in chronological order (since I just draw comics at random points in the timeline as they interest me). This post also already answers some of the frequently asked questions about this AU like: How did Jessie and Delia meet? What are James and Meowth up to? How old are Jessie and Delia? etc.

What does "Hanamusa" mean?

Hanamusa is a combination of Delia and Jessie's Japanese names, Hanako and Musashi respectively.

When does this AU take place?

It takes place sometime after the Mezase Pokémon Master/To Be a Pokémon Master series. So all the events that happened in the series, unless retconned within the series, happened. Ash is 10 at the start of the comics.

What's the status between Jessie, James, Meowth and Giovanni/Team Rocket?

Not great terms since they were fired, but also not the worst terms. Giovanni just let the three of them go without any further issues. I will say that I've always loved the theory that Giovanni keeps Jessie specifically around because of her parentage and he as a soft spot for her that he keeps a secret. I feel like Matori was the one that got the three of them fired and Giovanni wasn't able to make an excuse for them this time (without showing nepotism/special treatment) so he was forced to let them go.

If you headcanon Delia as a lesbian, how did Ash come to be?

Delia was young when she had Ash and I hc that she just didn’t really explore her sexuality much! I myself didn’t realized I liked women until I was 18 and didn’t know I liked ONLY women until like 2 years ago. She got married, had a baby and realized after her husband left that she liked women (trans people exist obviously but I’m also interpreting Ash’s father as a cis man).

Who do you think Ash’s dad is?

I don’t know and I don’t really care to explore it. I’m going off of the novel interpretation that he’s just a deadbeat that left to be a trainer, failed and never came back because of the shame. He’s not important.

Isn’t Giovanni Ash’s dad?

That’s a common misconception that people remember wrong from the Pokémon Live show. Delia mentions she dated Giovanni but then left him and his gang after meeting Ash’s father. I also don’t consider the live show canon personally! I follow The Birth of Mewtwo timeline where Madame Boss founded Team Rocket.

Do you think Delia and Giovanni dated at least?

Nah, I think he’s too old for her? I always got the vibe from The Birth of Mewtwo that he was quite a bit older than Jessie and it’d be sus if he was dating Delia when she was married to, and had a child with her husband at 18/19. He’s a bad guy but not a BAD guy.

You mentioned you still ship Jessie and James. Why not make a Jessie, James, Delia polycule?

I have a few reasons I’ve mentioned before! 1. I’m in super deep with this AU already and I feel it’d be very confusing for casual viewers of my stuff if James was added into the relationship haha. 2. I’ve drawn Jessie and James together since 2011 and took this AU as an opportunity to try my hand at writing them as queer, platonic besties bc I love that interpretation of them a lot as well. 3. I’m not poly myself and the way I write this ship is largely based off of my experiences with my girlfriend. I just know I’d favor the Jessie/Delia of it all which isn’t fair and not a good interpretation of a poly relationship. All that said, I DO super enjoy seeing peoples’ poly headcanons and art!

Who does James end up with in this AU?

No one. He's aroace and is happy to be single

Do Jessie and James have all their Pokémon in this AU

I think they have all the Pokémon that they did by the end of Mezase Pokémon Master (all their Pokémon that were left at HQ). Most of their released Pokémon have stayed released and the Alola Pokémon are still in Alola. I bring back Arbok and Weezing post-Jessie and Delia getting married. I may bring back Chimecho, Growlie and Cacnea if I think of an idea I like!

What are Meowth and James up to in this AU?

Hop back to the top of this post under the "Where to Start" section. All your questions will be answered.

Does Ash travel with anyone at this point of his life?

I don't have anyone in particular in mind! I could see him making new friends (Nemona???) or traveling with different combinations of old friends. Like him, Misty and Goh, him, Dawn and Cilan, him, Serena and Lillie etc.

Will Delia ever get over her phobia of snake Pokémon

Not fully! I think overcoming fears is fine and good but I think real PHOBIAS are much harder to get past and I don't want to cheapen it. She slowly gets used to Jessie's Seviper specifically and gets to the point where she can pet it comfortably with Jessie in the room. But otherwise, still scared and would need that same amount of time per Pokémon

Is Jessie gaining weight or is it just me?

Not just you! Jessie puts on a bit of relationship weight overtime as you'll see in the later comics in the timeline. Jessie grew in poverty, never knowing when her next meal would be and that continued into her life as a Team Rocket member. Once she was able to settle down (with a woman who runs her own restaurant no less) she's able to live a healthier lifestyle with regular meals and puts on some weight because of that.

Does Jessie ever feel self conscious about gaining weight?

Nope! She feels happier and healthier and hotter. She's also unreasonably excited to clear out her old clothes and get a new wardrobe.

Would Jessie and Delia ever have kids together or adopt?

Nah, Ash is enough for them! I have come up with hypothetical kids for them but they're not canon to this AU. Just a fun little thing for me.

Will you ever put this on webtoon?

Nah. People mostly ask me this because they want to read everything in the order of the timeline but to my knowledge, you can’t reorder chapters or installments which would defeat the purpose. I also don’t think nintendo fan stuff would fly there. Also, also it’s just extra work and another place to upload and I want to keep this all fun for myself~

[artzee-bee]

Forever my love | Adrien Agreste x reader

Fandom: Miraculous Ladybug

Requested by @oyasumimosura

Summary: friends to strangers to lovers with a no-so-happy ending

Genre: some fluff, angst

Warnings: canon typical violence (maybe tuned up a notch tho), death

A/N: my google doc for this piece is 10 pages long and it’s went through at least 4 alternate endings before getting here. I got this request months ago and have been working on it since, whenever I can. I hope this is alright because it’s been a journey...

~~~

There was no ‘first memory’ with you. Not one that would come to Adrien’s mind anyways. It felt like you had simply always been in his life. The only thing he remembered was you and your mother, entering the Agreste mansion as if it was your own, almost every Sunday. His mom would welcome both of you with wide arms and offer you tea, and biscuits, which you would snuck to Adrien’s room. Your favorite have always been the ones with strawberry jam filling.

And then you’d play for hours! Building fortresses out of chairs and pillows, racing toy cars around the room, saving plush animals from the imminent danger of Adrien’s rocketship and so on. Not a single moment spent with you felt boring! Your presence was addictive, the joy, the excitement you brought with yourself every time was something Adrien couldn’t understand at the time but now, as an adult looking back, he could easily recognise it as love.

But the world has its own way of never quite letting you be happy enough. The memory of your last playdate, as well as the day his parents told him you were moving away, were very hazy and unclear. For years he refused to revisit them, the sorrow too great for his young, immature self to know how to handle. Now, there was only one sentence he could remember you saying, clear as day. One promise that gave him more hope than he could put in words. “We’ll keep in touch”.

You exchanged letters the whole time you were away!! Of course, they could never be a substitute for the time spent together but Adrien learned to appreciate them deeply. He took his time responding to each of them and always nervously awaited your response. Years went on like that! Every summer you’d promise to visit and every time Adrien would have the displeasure of having to read, in your flawless and delicate handwriting, that your parents canceled the trip for whatever reason.

Eventually, he decided it was best to move on. In the time you had been gone many things changed: he grew up, got big in the fashion industry, started school, became the new black cat miraculous holder, made friends! His life became overwhelmingly busy and the precious memories you made together faded away without notice. He found joy in other things and in his new friends! Your letters no longer brought the excitement they once did and consequently, he always postponed replying until eventually, it all stopped.

Much to Adrien’s shock, almost exactly a year after losing contact, he saw you! He had been transformed at the time, having just finished defeating an akuma when he saw you exiting a coffee shop down the street. He couldn’t believe his eyes and had it not been for the alarming beeping of his miraculous, he probably would have stayed petrified on top of that roof much longer. Once detransformed, he tried to go looking for you but to no avail.

It wasn’t until a week later that he finally got to talk to you again. Natalie reached out to your family and arranged for you two to meet. That Friday afternoon, you had lunch at a pizza place that you didn’t recognise. He looked the same. Same innocent glimmer in his eyes and ecstatic voice. It almost weirded you out how much it seemed this boy never changed. But of course, you weren’t right. Many things have changed.

Adrien tried his best to be open and friendly. To him, it felt like no time had passed at all, but you were so quiet and shy. A subtle frown was visible on your face from the moment you arrived and you barely looked him in the eyes. The air around you felt thick with discomfort, which was extremely frustrating to Adrien. He wanted to ask what’s wrong but found it so difficult to speak his mind until, eventually, you opened up yourself.

“Why did you stop writing?” your voice didn’t betray any feeling of anger or sadness and yet, Adrien was instantly washed over with guilt

“I’m sorry. I wanted to but…”

“Was I not worth it?”

“What?” Adrien couldn’t believe the words coming out of your mouth, but you were just as still and cold as before

“Because, you see, when we were kids you were one of the most important people in my life. You were my best friend and I honestly thought we would never ever be apart! No one could ever break us up! And I put everything I had into not losing that, convinced that you’d do the same for me! Because your friendship was worth more to me than any number of kilometers between us!” your words fell out quickly and stung him “Was I not worth fighting for, Adrien?”

He didn’t know what to say! He wanted to tell you he was just stupid and made a grave mistake. That you were more than worth it, but the words were stuck in his throat.

You didn’t speak after that. Adrien was heartbroken but figured you were already so mad at him, it would only make it worse if he kept pestering you on.

Eventually, one night, after patrol, he saw you! It was already way after dark and you were just strolling down the street all alone. A sense of anxiety overtook him and he knew he couldn’t go home just yet

“Good evening pretty lady!” he greeted you, full of glee. “The streets can get pretty nasty this late at night, y’know? Hope you don’t mind if this street cat walks alongside you for a while.”

“Hello Chat Noir!” your voice was so smooth and warm “ I’d really love that. I was actually quite uncomfortable walking alone.” “Well then, fear not!The bravest and strongest hero in all of Paris is right here at your service! Did I also mention the most charming?” you giggled to his silliness

Adrien was ecstatic to get to talk to you again, like old times. He finally felt like he got his friend back! He didn’t even realize how big of a hole your absence had left in his life. After that night, he would accompany you everyday on your evening walks and, soon enough, you began hanging out at your house. Oftentimes he would knock on your bedroom window shortly after you got home from school and more often than not, he would spend hours at your place. You did almost everything together from playing video games to watching movies, cooking, gossiping. He would tell you all the fun stories he had with Ladybug from their patrols and would blush a little when you began laughing uncontrollably. It was just too cute.

With all this joy, still there was an ounce of pain at the idea that you didn’t know who you were really talking to. Almost every time you called him Chat, his heart would sting a little. He liked being Chat Noir. He loved it even. With you however, it just felt like one big lie he could do nothing about. He wanted you to look at him and see the boy from all those years ago. To look at him and call him by his name. To rejoice in old memories, instead of him having to pretend he hears the story for the first time. Adrien couldn’t help but feel like he was betraying you by simply being here, knowing how mad you were with his civilian self. When those thoughts got to him, he felt more alone than ever, but you almost always picked up on it

“What’s wrong?” you would ask and the sweetness of your voice ran like ice down his body. You would not be this kind if you knew

“Absolutely nothing, I am doing wonderful” he’d say through gritted teeth

“Sit down and talk to me!”

“I can’t. It’s personal” which you knew really meant “It would put my identity in danger”

So you would shut up. You’d make tea or let him have the last cookie as a sign of solidarity. To let him know you still cared. Sometimes he would ask you for hugs, which you would indulge him in. You’d wrap your arms around his shoulders and hug him tight to your chest, trying to convey all the love and care you had for him in that one gesture. Almost always, the hero would melt into your embrace as if he’d never been held before. His head would rest on your shoulder and his blonde locks tickled your neck and cheek.

Confessing to you was the biggest risk he ever took, which meant a lot considering his occupation. It happened after yet another game of cards lost by Chat. It had been what felt like his 15th loss of the night and in a futile attempt to protect his remaining dignity, he slipped

“You’re only winning cause I love you too much to let you lose!” the cocky attitude dropped instantly as he processed his choice of words. You were just looking at him, a little quizzingly, unsure if you heard him right.

“Do you mean that?”

“I do”

The brightest smile overtook your features instantly “Good. I love you too!”

It was difficult for a long time. The secret identity issue became even greater with the new level of intimacy that was expected with the start of a romantic relationship. On top of that, Adrien was pretty clueless. You were his first girlfriend, the first girl he ever fell in love with, the pressure was high. He wanted to be the best boyfriend there was! He brought you many gifts, big and small. He spent as much time with you as he could, he always told you just how much you actually meant to him. The blush on your cheeks and the witty comebacks made him melt through his seat every time and with every happy memory he made with you came the unmistakable pain of never really being completely honest with you. On one of your sleepovers, the feelings were overwhelming Chat more than he thought was possible

“What’s going on Chat?”

“Nothing darling. Just tired”

“Come on, you know you can’t fool me! You’ve been quiet all night, it’s really unlike you”

Adrien’s mind went empty when you sat on the floor in front of him, lightly running your fingers over his leather clad ones. The trust and love in your eyes was so mesmerizing. No one had ever looked at him like that and for a split second he imagined your reaction if you knew who he was. He wondered if you’d kick him out. Break up with him here and now and never want anything to do with him ever again. He imagined the anger in your voice, the betrayal. And then, he considered, briefly, a different option. A scenario in which you’d hug him tight and kiss the top of his head, and there’d be no more lies. No more secrets, no more of these impossible feelings that were tormenting him. That smile, that bliss, engulfed his mind and he felt powerless in the face of hope.

“I’m sorry” he said weakly

“For what?” and before he could think for another second, talk himself out or consider the consequences of his actions, he did the only thing he felt was logical

“Plagg, claws in”

When the green light vanished and Adrien found himself back in his normal clothes, he didn’t muster to look at your face

“Chat, what are you doing?” finally, he glanced up, only to find you curled up on the ground, with your hands over your eyes. You hadn’t seen him

“It’s ok.”

“You detransformed?”

“Yes…”

“Chat you can’t do that.”

“I want you to see me” he tried to sound confident, but it came out almost as a plea.

“What about Ladybug?”

“I’ll deal with her later. It’s ok. I swear”

“Chat…”

“Please”

Adriean reached out to pull your hands away from your face, but your eyes were still closed

“Chat?”

“Yes?”

“Before I look, I want you to know that I love you regardless of who you are. If you’re doing this because you think I can’t love you fully without knowing your identity, if you’re doing this for me, please know that this won’t change anything. I want you to be comfortable with this, ok?” Adrien blushed, feeling tears well up in his eyes

“I want to do this” he kissed your knuckles “if that’s ok with you”

Slowly, you opened your eyes and Adrien felt his heart beating out of his chest. Your face went soft and your eyes welled up with tears and you looked at eachother. You couldn’t muster a word and neither could he. He took this as you being disappointed and let go of your hand, only for you to grab it once more, much harder than before. Finally, tears came rolling down your cheeks, as you whispered a simple “I love you”

That night, neither of you could stop crying. The liberation of all secrets and all lies felt divine and finally, Adrien felt like he was 100% safe for the first time in his life.

Many things changed after that. Adrien got a serious scolding from Ladybug, since he couldn’t lie to her about what he’s done. She wasn’t as mad as he expected her to be, so in the end it was all worth it when you began showing up to the Agreste mansion to hang out. It was hard for Adrien to find time to spend with her during the day but Natalie was always so understanding of their relationship and tried her best to squeeze in an hour or two here and there for you! Now, Adrien could hold your hand and take you to his photoshoots. You facetimed more often and it finally felt like you got the relationship you were always meant to have.

~~~

Paris looked beautiful from the top of the Eiffel tower. Chat took you here many times before. It felt so romantic being up there with your best friend, the boy of your dreams! You felt so powerful looking down at all the lights and cars passing by and at the same time so protected by his tight grip around your waist. Nothing could hurt you if he was there, with or without the costume! But the arms holding you now were much slimmer and much less concerned with your safety. You knew you shouldn’t look down from the edge you were standing on but it was so hard not to. Lila was manic next to you, laughing and shouting about her imminent victory, taunting the two superheroes that were struggling to catch up.The tiny robots Lila could control with her powers had kept Ladybug and Chat Noir busy for just enough time to allow the akumatized girl to take you with her, away from the scene and up here.

“Be careful with what you do next Ladybug, otherwise the girl gets it!” the taunting manner in which she spoke felt hardly like Lila. You never found her to be a particularly pleasant person to be around but the malice with which she spoke now was so unusual!

She kicked your shin, making one of your legs drop off the edge. Had it not been for her holding onto your forearm, you would have dropped. You could see Ladybug and Chat approaching but they were so far away and it felt like they were moving so slowly. A cry ripped through your chest as you hung there, your life in the hands of this girl you couldn’t even recognise anymore.You were trying to pull yourself back on the ledge with your other foot before she kicked that one too, swinging you in the air by your arm.

“Oh oh, but you’re so far away little Bug? Whatever are you gonna do if my hand …slips?” she let go with a chuckle.

Chat couldn’t see anything around him anymore, all he saw was your helpless body falling from the sky! He screamed your name but he was still so far! Ladybug threw her yoyo, trying to form a net below you, but the speed at which you were falling was much greater than anybody expected. You fell right through the net, breaking it to pieces and hit the ground with a hard thud. Chat screamed, Ladybug was speechless, all the while Lila was laughing on her way down!

“Chat, get her! I’ll handle Lila!”

That’s all it took. Chat was looking down at your unconscious form before he knew it. You were so bloody and so limp in his arms.

“Don’t!” you whispered when he tried to pick you up

“It’s not safe for you here, I need to hide you away!” he almost screamed, too relieved to see you alive to be able to control himself

“It’s over Chat!”

“Don’t talk like that! You will be ok! I will make you ok!”

“I’m tired…”

“No, don’t do it! Focus on me, focus on my voice! Can you see me?”

“You have to protect the people…”

“You are the only one I have to protect! I’m sorry I wasn’t there to catch you, I’m sorry! Please! Please let me protect you!” tears were streaming down his face and he found himself thinking that he would sell his soul to switch places with you

“Chat, I love you” you said through your own tears

“Don’t say goodbye!”

“I’m not”

“I love you Y/N! I love you so much, please don’t leave me alone! I can still save you!” he laid his head on your chest, not believing his own words

“I’ll always love you Adrian!” you whispered in his ear, kissing his temple with the last of your powers

~~~

“You need to hurry up, Adrian needs to be at a press conference across town in one hour and we’re already behind schedule because of you!”

“Nathalie, stop that! Everyone is doing their best here.”

“This photoshoot was supposed to be over already!”

“Maybe you should go have some water while you wait, yeah?” Adrien was trying to be nice but he felt really bad about the way Nathalie was speaking to the makeup artist. He knew they were very busy and Nath was under a great deal of stress but still, he felt it wasn’t fair to the girls working hard to get him ready.

“I’m sorry about that! She’s a lovely person, it’s just the last couple of days have been really hard for her”

“Oh, it’s alright, sir. Trust me I’ve seen much worse before” the young girl replied “Plus, I would imagine that making the switch to become a full time model would bring on a lot more responsibilities on her side.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Adrien chuckled. “If you would have told me last year, when I was still in school, that my schedule would be even more packed as a graduate, I would have probably given up modeling then and there. Now I just deal with it.”

Adrien observed himself in the mirror, thinking back to his high school days. He tried to remember what he looked like, although that was very difficult. He knew his hair was much longer now, reaching just below his chin. He thought his face was a bit slimmer and many people told him he put on a healthy amount of muscle in the last couple of months, but  he was still himself, just 20.

“If you don’t mind sir, we need the first couple of buttons of your shirt undone for the next set. I will add a little contour to the collarbones and then we’re done”

Said and done, with the first few buttons open he looked even more manly than before.

“Um, I think we should take the necklace off if you don’t mind…”

Eyes shot down to his chest, where a tiny silver ring on a chain hung, barely glistening in the lights around.

“Yes, that’s alright” he said, although he never liked taking it off. There was always a worry in the back of his hand about misplacing it or something and the thought was simply unbearable, but he understood.

“That’s a very beautiful piece of jewelry”

“Thank you!” he looked down at the ring twirling it between his fingers. It was so simple, he wasn’t used to receiving compliments on it, even from the select few that got to see it. A simple golden band with a round diamond in the middle. It was so small for him, he could never get it more than halfway down his ring finger. “It belonged to somebody I cared a lot about.” He remembered how hard he worked to get your ring size, all those years ago. It was difficult to do it behind your back, since you had always been so good at reading his body language, you always knew when he was up to something. He remembered all those nights spent on the internet, looking for the perfect ring for you! He knew it needed to be simple but sometimes it was so hard to talk himself out of buying one of the big and glamorous ones. He just wanted to spoil you rotten and if he didn’t take the chance to do that when he was buying your engagement ring, then when would he? Finally, after weeks, he finally found this one and fell in love. It was perfect for you and you were gonna love it. The day it arrived was one of the most exciting times he experienced in the last decade, he could still feel his heart pumping now, at the memory.

“They can’t wear it anymore so I just keep it!” in fact, you had never even gotten the chance to try it on, but those details don’t need to be shared. Still, thinking about the incident, taking place only 2 weeks after he got the ring, hurts him to no end. He was planning the perfect engagement, a grand romantic gesture to make all your dreams come true but now he felt sorrow and regret, wishing he would have simply ran to your door the same day that package was delivered to ask you. At least then you would have known, you would have had the chance to say yes.

“I’m sure they were an incredible person” Adrien only nodded to that “Well, you’re all done, you can head to the set now”

“Thank you, I’ll just drop this off to Nathalie and go”

The pain of not having you around would never go away, Adian had accepted that as a fact! You would always be there for any anniversary or birthday, achievement or simply on lazy days when his mind would wonder. Nothing made the sting of not being able to hold your hand go away but at least the ring, your ring, would comfort him in those moments.

[gayferrari]

lestappen intrigue me in the way that they both kind of act like they have a secret crush on each other. like sometimes it seems like max does not give a fuck about what charles is doing while charles can come off as a bit obsessive over his skill, accomplishments, whatever. but then max pulls up with the most insane aside or reveals some intricate detail about charles and it shows they are both kinda down bad but at a distance.

ok disclaimer here that I don't know these guys and they could hang out every day for all we know. but I think. “mutually unhinged” IS a fun narrative for rpf purposes but if we're talking about their actual dynamic, I don't think it truly really reflects reality

I think Charles's awareness of what Max has been up to is the same level of awareness he would have for anyone who was at the top of the sport, frankly. Like, it's juicy as fuck that Charles had a widget showing Max's wdc points on his phone lockscreen a couple years back... but to me, that's less about Max the person and more a reminder of who was leading the championship. If George had been in the RB23 last year Charles would have made way more comments about George than Max, u know? Likewise, I don't think Max's awareness of random nuggets of deep Charles lore is different / broader / more targeted than his awareness of other guys on the grid he has some amount of shared history with and rates as drivers. It tends to look to the fandom like it happens more often than it actually does, because the shipping community is big and eagle-eyed and these men can't as much as breathe in each other's direction without f1blr making a web weave about it. Which is fun, mind you! but I think if anyone compiled every single statement Max has ever made about other drivers, it wouldn't be skewed towards Charles. He seems like a guy who remembers insane asides across the boards, period, and likes to bring it up.

THAT SAID. In an RPF way,,, I'm very into the idea of Charles being obsessed with Max because it's fun. I am actually having a bit of a lestappen moment in the year 2024 because I'm building off a whole narrative in my head about how Charles has historically been sooo concerned with what Max's up to, and this season RBR's dominance has been faltering, and what if Charles stops noticing / mentioning Max as often and starts focusing on Oscar or whoever, and Max (who previously didn't care as much) starts noticing the difference and is like, Oh No! I liked his attention... This could be a fun angle. I am studying. I think they actually have fun potential as a ship and I am looking for ways to smash them together bc Charles is my fandom bicycle. But IRL I don't think there's anything major drawing Charles to Max beyond the combo of "very good driver ended up in a rocketship has been dominating the sport for years". Huge ships have been built on less though, so who cares

[collapsedsquid]

Blowing everyone's mind by telling them that Elon Musk doesn't actually design and build the rocketships himself, he uses this technique known as "wage labor" that allows him to acquire rockets without building them himself.

[laura1633]

what i would give to have a « exchange your car » race and see charles in this mclaren rocketship

OMG I would be fascinated. It's always so hard to tell how much a driver is getting out of a car. I think if Max was in that Mclaren for the last few races he would have been winning with huge margins like he did in the RB19 and people would be saying 'its just the car'. I am biased though.

I would love to be able to see Charles in that Mclaren versus Max in the Red Bull and see how many wins Charles would get, I suspect he would already have a few this season. It would be an amazing championship battle and I believe it would be really tight.

I like Max and Charles and want them both to do well but in a championship battle I would want Max to win and I can tell you that I would be terrified of Charles in that Mclaren.

We have seen what Charles can do when he has a good car beneath him, for example in 2022, but Ferrari just aren't able to provide him with a consistently fast car and it's so frustrating. I want to see what he can do with a run of nice clean weekends with some pace beneath him.

I do also think highly of Oscar but I think he just needs this year to keep building momentum and hopefully get his first full race win. If Mclaren are quick from the start of the season in 2025 it will be interesting to see what he can do (or is allowed to do 😬)

[valyrfia]

Sorry to discuss potential bad news and be a hater, but I've been thinking with all the rumours of Max potentially leaving (hope they're just rumours), they'd probably put Sainz in the RBR car for 2025 and he'd almost be guaranteed a championship if the car is still a rocketship. (despite my faith in Charles and Max's abilities, that car would get almost anyone a championship).

I hope Max stays true to his love of winning and doesn't leave for another team until 2026. There is nothing I dread more than seeing my least favourite drivers win.

This ask genuinely made me have to close tumblr for the rest of yesterday because I couldn’t stomach it, but upon cooler and calmer reflection, there’s a couple of reasons why I don’t subscribe to Carlos winning a championship in a RB21.

I think, first of all, we greatly underestimate how Max’s own skill contributes to current Red Bull dominance. Adrian Newey’s cars are a marvel, sure, but Max is half of that marvel. The car is so good because he’s able to drive them right on the limit, with a super pointy front end and a super reactive driving style. We know Carlos struggles with both these aspects in a car, because we saw how he handled the F1-75 in early 2022.

Secondly, I think Max also wouldn’t want to mess around before new regs considering how good Red Bull got it right. There’s the argument of being able to get a feel for a team before a regs change, sure. But why would Max throw away what could be a certain championship at that?

Thirdly, if Carlos were to move in 2025, we severely underestimate Ferrari. Lewis brings invaluable advice on how to build a championship car, but the SF-25 will be built almost entirely on Charles’ input, considering that Lewis won’t join until January when the first iteration of the car will be almost finalised. All I’m saying is that Charles in a car that is built just for him, could be near unstoppable.

Lastly, the Newey influence will start to decline at Red Bull from now and the impact will already be felt in the RB21. Sure, people who worked with him remain, but he will have little to no influence on the RB21, it could signify the beginning of the end for Red Bull, no matter who is in the driver’s seat.

[minijenn]

Never Been Better (Commission)

Got the first (and so far only) writing commission of this bunch done, for @zexoguy, who wanted some cute MK2 fluff, featuring Ava realizing she's crushing on Lisa. So enjoy!

---

The day Ava realized she was in love with Lisa started just like any other. 

They were spending the afternoon in Little Homeworld, a frequent haunt for the Pines and Universe kids. They were just as well known among the small city’s Gem residents as their parents were, and every bit as welcome. From the moment they arrived, Rebecca was already running about, cheerfully greeting every Gem who happened to pass by. 

“Hi, Nephy! Hi, Lar-mar! Hi, Paddy Pads!” she called out, running over to hug each of them in turn. “Oh my gosh, look, Ty!” she grabbed Tyrone’s arm, excited. “I think I see Auntie Bis over there! Let’s see if she’ll finally build me that rocketship I keep asking her for!” 

Before Tyrone could protest, Rebecca was already pulling him away. Flustered, Comet hurried after them. 

“Becca, wait!” he shouted, worried. “Rockets are really dangerous! A-and besides, Aunt Bismuth doesn’t even build rockets, she builds weapons!”

Abigail snorted out a small laugh as she watched them go. “Talk about easily distracted, am I right?” she smirked at Lisa and Ava. Almost immediately, however, her attention was pulled away to a gathering crowd up ahead. “No way. Are the Citrines about to have an epic dance battle? Now this I gotta see!” 

And just like that, she was off, suddenly leaving Ava and Lisa alone. Neither of them minded much though; they were used to spending time together without any of their siblings. But lately, for whatever reason, their solo outings started to feel… different. 

Or at least, they did to Ava. 

“So, uh…” she cleared her throat, glancing away when Lisa looked in her direction. “Looks like it’s just us. What do you want to do now?”

“Hm…” Lisa thought for a moment. “Well, we could always-”

A sudden clatter cut her off as it rose through the air. The girls turned to spot the danger just as a Gem cried out the warning: “Bramblebeast stampede!”

Bramblebeasts were a relatively new discovery among Gravity Falls’ anomalies. Their antelope-like bodies were made up entirely of living brambles, allowing them to easily blend into the forests they called home. Recently, however, the Gems of Little Homeworld had taken a liking to the largely peaceful creatures, with a few even trying their hand at domesticating them. A feat which, given how frequently they broke out of their enclosure, was easier said than done. 

A sizable thicket of Bramblebeasts charged straight through Little Homeworld’s main road, nearly barreling into countless Gems in the process. While most were easily able to slip out of the stampede’s path in time, Ava’s focus was elsewhere as she desperately glanced around for her sister and her cousin. She could only hope Abigail and Tyrone were safe, Comet and Rebecca too, but she couldn’t say the same for herself as she realized far too late she wouldn’t be able to make a clean getaway. The Bramblebeasts were only a few feet ahead of her, racing straight for her in a blind, uncontrollable rage. All she could do now was brace herself for the inevitable, until–

A hand latched around her arm and pulled her out of the way, just in time. 

Ava only got a glimpse of Lisa after she shoved her to safety. The Bramblebeasts charged past her, and to her surprise, Lisa followed them, running as fast as her legs could carry her. She managed to catch up with the last of the pack, climbing onto its thorny body until she was able to stand atop its back. Her years of training with Connie and Pearl served her well as she kept her balance, leaping from one Bramblebeast to the next. 

Ava stood alongside several Gems as they all watched her daring maneuver, absolutely awestruck. It didn’t take Lisa long to reach the Bramblebeast at the front of the pack, the creature the rest of the thicket was clearly following. She took a tight hold on the twisted vines that served as its horns, letting out a fierce shout as she pulled back on them with all her might. The Bramblebeast reared back, roaring, but Lisa held fast until the creature had no choice but to skid to a sharp stop. The other Bramblebeasts soon did the same, finally putting a stop to the chaotic stampede as several Gems rushed in to properly restrain them. 

Lisa breathed out a sigh of relief as she dismounted the creature. While plenty of Gems offered her praise and gratitude for her quick thinking, she didn’t focus on any of them for too long. Instead, she hurried back over to Ava, who was still standing on the sidelines, still utterly stunned by what she’d just seen. 

“Ava!” she called, concerned. 

“Lisa…” Ava finally remembered how to speak again. “That was… amazing! I can’t believe you just did that!” 

“Heh, yeah,” Lisa chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck. “I dunno what came over me. I just… leapt right into the thick of it, just like Mom and Pearl always taught me to. I’m just glad nobody got hurt.”

“Uh, are you sure about that?” Ava asked, frowning. “Your hands are bleeding pretty badly there…”

“Oh,” Lisa frowned down at the multiple cuts stinging her palms. “The Bramblebeasts were pretty thorny. B-but don’t worry! Dad can always heal them up for me later.” She wiped some of the spare blood off on her dress. “I’m fine; how about you?”

The world seemed to grind to a stop when Lisa held her hand out. Ava could only stare at it, at her, utterly captivated by the girl she’d grown up alongside. Her long hair was a mess, her face smeared with dirt, her dress ripped and frayed, and her eyes bright with fading adrenaline. Ava had scarcely ever seen this side of her before, so fierce, so formidable, so brave… 

So beautiful. 

“Y-yeah…” she answered weakly. Though she was still standing, when she took Lisa’s hand, she felt herself falling in another way entirely all the same. “I’ve never been better.”

[f0point5]

100% agree!!! It's shocking how many people try to discredit Max and say it's the car, but the driver makes the car, not the other way around.

It’s clearly not the car because Perez is in The Car 😂

I give some people the benefit of the doubt that when they say the car they are talking about the synergy between the driver and the car, which is something I think it’s undervalued and Max definitely has with the RB19.

I honestly don’t think if you put Lando in that car he’d even adapt to it immediately so when I say Lando in the RB19 I mean Lando in a Red Bull that suits him. I don’t think you could parachute anyone into what is essentially Max’s second skin and they’re going to drive it like Max.

But 100% Max would be leading into turn 1 in Brazil in a McLaren. He would have got the move done where Lando didn’t later in the race. There’s so many little moments where Lando is in second that you can tell Max would have exploited where Lando didn’t. And lbr you can bet on Max not bottling it whereas you can put money on Lando making a mistake when he’s up front.

Let’s never forget, Max is of the mindset that they have to build him a rocketship, and he has to find a way to drive it, rather than he tells them how to build him a car. And I think that’s what’s made the difference in development, is the team knowing all they have to worry about is how to make the fastest car, and Max will figure out how to drive it, rather than them being limited by a style *cough* Ferrari *cough*

[give-grian-rights]

Mika I’m on my knees begging any taurian headcanons….. in exchange I will say that “bitter water” by the oh hellos is a taurian song

did you see my last one that talked about them having tomagatchis and stuff . . ALSO i must tell you that i cannot help but to associate taurian with space and time . time because grian's timetravel stuff and space because taurtis had a fun lil machinima of him in a rocketship once and like . they're vibes ok??

a lot of these are gonna be for yhs because we got Minimal moments of them in evo :(

they probably have a collection of a bunch of weird stuff . taurtis collects vintage and weird fish stuff (plushies, ceramics, paintings, etc) because he had that . weird familial attachment to Pufferfish Pete and his family . Grian collects miscellaneous rocks and Shiny stuff . probably got into some wiccan stuff because of Ellen

Grian tries to keep Taurtis awake during the day so he can sleep at night. If that doesn't work, then he'll stay up at night until Taurtis falls asleep.

When they ARE asleep, their position ends up some unholy knot of limbs . they both want to be the little spoon . instead neither of them do . on top of eachother, half way off the bed, holding onto the other's leg, torso, neck, etc in their arms .

Taurtis is only Slightly taller than Grian . but they are the same shoe size. they bought a pair of blue shoes and a pair of red shoes and swapped one with the other <3

a bunch of tacky friendship bracelets and necklaces they probably got at a dollar store or an arcade

they were warrior cat kids . look at them and prove me wrong

they played in the same game savefile and drive each other CRAZY before turning it into a game of who can log off in the most baffling, confusing manner. weird shit in their inventory, AWFUL log-off locations, bad armor, etc.

Grian washes Taurtis' hair . they never have been able to find a comfortable arrangement for it and it always leads to someone's neck hurting .

post yhs/ts Taurtis and Grian got taken by the Watchers to be trained, and basically learn how to live in Survival, build, etc. and its in that time that Buildswap happened, and THEN Evo .

post yhs/ts their world ummm blew up :blush: because sam and grian started the apocalypses and it was . idk if you watched tokyo soul but it got REAL FUCKED but the principal of it is that everyone died except for Sam, Grian and Taurtis. also pillsbury doughboy but dont worry about that. so the way i figure it is that that like . FUCKED SHIT UP because of how unnatural it was and so everyone there did permadie .

except Ellen, Domrao and J, because the Watchers looked at Grian and Taurtis after they saved them and was like "look at them!! look at these perfectly good baby gods!! they're traumatized! lets give them emotional support friends" and was able to bring them back under the excuse of them having potential to be good Watchers . which to be fair is probably true about Ellen . but honestly i think the only requirement to be a watcher is teenage/childhood trauma, looking at all my/the fandom's headcanons of who else are watchers .

there are other servers like YHS, that have movies and cities and cars, but Grian avoids them like the plague. Taurtis still probably finds them endearing, as he wasn't able to embrace the cultural of the independence of SMPs and Survival, like Grian was able to eventually.

Grian and Taurtis still have this weird connection and can kinda Know when the other one wants them. Grian can make the Taurtis Shrine, and Taurtis can make a Grian Shrine, and they're eachother's person.

Being Watchers, mean they can bypass a Server's Whitelist . do not tell Xisuma (he knows)