#you know if i had a nickel every time someones asked me to draw a character in a blender id have 3 nickels

[endearng]

Doomed

Pairing: Spencer Reid x single mom!reader Summary: If you and Spencer had a nickel every time someone teased you after witnessing your interactions, you'd have two nickels, which isn't much — but it's weird that it happened twice. WC: 4.4k Warnings: Mentions of abandonment and I think that's it. Let me know if I missed anything. A/N: HI!!! I'm so obsessed with them... in a normal amount of course. I'm thinking about writing casually for them, who knows... Also,,,, who am I if not a morcia truther….. I hope you enjoy it! Feedbacks are always appreciated <3 neighbor!au masterlist | main masterlist

You were doomed from the moment he bid you goodbye.

"So, who's he?" Victoria inquired, a sly smirk on her face and a bashful expression on yours.

"Who's who?" You asked, trying to feign nonchalance.

She groaned playfully, "You know what I mean."

"I'm afraid I don't." You winked, sitting on your couch again, between the two women. Sex and the City was playing on the TV across from the three of you.

"You're acting like us as freshmen when the seniors looked at us—" she retorted.

"I thought we didn't talk about that," Jude deadpanned.

"You're 'I don't know what you're talking about' me? I thought we were friends!" Victoria poked you in the rib.

"Ouch! He's just a friendly neighbor, that's it." You said, trying to cut the subject. Jude looked at you suspiciously. "White wine time."

From Spencer's apartment, he could hear the sound of chatter, joyful laughter and opening bottles for the rest of the night. He didn't know how to feel by your invitation, now that he had calmed down after looking you in the eye for a moment, technically, all by yourselves. He would definitely feel inappropriate at a kid's birthday where he barely knew the people who invited him, but he thought that Olivia's gesture was amazingly endearing. What could possibly be more childishly adorable than an infant trying to help and making a 'mistake'? And what could possibly be more devastatingly endearing than a mother taking advantage of said mistake to make it right?

Spencer studied the card for a moment. It fit the palm of his hand, tiny and delicate. It had a different address from yours and the time of the party, all of it lovely handwritten, just like the letters from calligraphy practice notebooks. It seemed like Olivia put a lot of effort in trying to perfect her handiwork. It read:

Hey, it's Oli!

I'm turning six and I want to celebrate it with you!

The contents of the slip of paper were adorned by dainty drawings related to birthdays: party hats, cake, gifts, some decoration and so on. It suddenly dawned on him that he was actually becoming closer to the people he always thought lived a perfect life. His mind had a tendency to wander and, for a fleeting moment, he thought about what it would be like to be part of that perfect life.

Olivia was a perfectionist child. He saw the expected behavior of the age in her manners, but the care with her work almost made him think someone else had done it for her. Something told him it wasn't the case, though.

Secured by two magnets, he placed Olivia's birthday party invitation on his fridge. You know, just so he wouldn't forget it — he tried to convince himself.

Everybody knew about his otherworldly memory, but he decided to forget it purposefully.

"Good morning, good ghost. I didn't see you anymore." Olivia greeted as she saw Spencer in front of the elevator. You were just locking your door closed, hyping yourself up for the week ahead of you when you heard it and a shiver ran down your spine. This, whatever it was, was getting out of hand.

"Good morning, Miss Olivia!" He said, a sweet tone of voice. You melted. "It's true. It's been a while. I was here on the weekend, but it seemed like you had other plans." He stuck his hand out for her to shake. She did it in a heartbeat.

"I was with my grandma and grandpa. They took me to the movies and grandpa made me lasagna." She explained as you approached them, adjusting your bag and Olivia's backpack in each of your arms. "Did'ya get my birthday party invitation?"

"Yes, I did! Thank you for inviting me. But, you know, your mother probably needed the rest of them for the other guests." He said as the elevator opened. He gestured for you to enter it first, so you did it with a grateful nod.

"Sorry, mommy. I didn't mean it." Olivia looked at you briefly, ashamed that you would call her out.

"I know, baby, 's okay. Everyone has one now." You assured her with a light tone. Breathe. "Hi, Spencer. Good morning." You said as he joined you in the elevator.

He breathed out, "Good morning. Hi." He had a big smile on his face, standing right next to you, you both facing the door and Olivia in front of you. Internally, he felt like a puppy who had his owners’ undivided attention.

Olivia pressed the button to the lobby. You noticed a book in his hands. Courage. "So, what are you reading, Spencer?"

He gulped. Were you talking to him? It took him a moment to get a grip and realize that he hadn't answered you. Struggling to find the words and suddenly unable to remember what he was actually reading. "Me? I'm just re-reading one of Dostoievski's books. Notes from Underground."

"Dosto-what?" Olivia chipped in.

You looked at her, ready to tell her to not interrupt someone, but couldn't stop yourself from giggling. Spencer watched it fondly. "It's Dostoievski, baby. D'you remember that one book with the 'ugly' cover that mommy was reading the other day?" You asked her, air quoting the word 'ugly'. “It wasn’t ugly. It just wasn’t pink.” You explained it, looking at Spencer. He grinned.

"Yeah. You didn't read to me because it was work." She said, getting distracted with one of her braids.

"Are you a teacher?" He asked, intrigued.

"No. I actually work for a publishing company. Sometimes I have interesting content to revise." You said, a tinge of irony in your voice. He smiled at you, feeling comfortable enough to joke around him without the awkwardness of that first encounter.

The elevator door opened. Olivia jumped out. "I bet it's interesting," was the best he could come up with. Tongue tied.

“Yeah. It’s a good book.”

Like a fucking teenager, he watched as you left with your daughter. Your mixed laughter echoing in the lobby as Olivia spinned around while you carried the weight all by yourself.

He scolded himself for not remembering to offer you help.

Two days later, a few states over, Spencer sat on a chair at the conference room of the precinct they were working with. The case was exhausting and he just wanted it to be over, but it wasn't that simple. He waited for Derek Morgan — he was his ride that night back to the hotel they were crashing on. He was in front of Derek as he and Penelope talked, her image on the computer screen. The man's nonchalant tone was a riddle for her to unsolve — everyone else was aware that there was definitely something between them (an unspoken dictionary worth of words), even if their interactions were deemed as jokes. Penelope, feeling very shy, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked at her lap after a particular comment about her smile. As she did so, her eyes caught a glance of her watch. "Oh, shoot. I have to go," she murmured, relieved to have a way out of the exchange that had high chances of turning her into a nervous wreck. "I'm so sorry, handsome! Tomorrow is one of my friend's daughter's birthday."

A flash of disappointment crossed Derek's features. Not that she'd noticed. Instead of pressing her, he chose to say, "Need extra energy to keep up with the kids, babygirl?" Ah, there was it. The teasing tone. She was definitely imagining things.

"Not as much as I need to keep up with you, tiger," she replied with a wink, the dynamic between them quickly shifting back to the usual playful banter. Both of them wanted more than playful and far more than banter, but none of them had the courage to admit it, to be straightforward about it. Spencer understood it, really. Speaking made things too real. "But, seriously. I totally forgot to pick up her gift. Olivia loves reading, so I'll go to the mall. I'm glad I already bought it, so I won't get home late."

If he was a dog, Spencer's ears would have definitely perked up from how quickly he associated one thing to another. Could it be the same Olivia? Your Olivia? "Okay, mama. Be safe." Derek said.

"I will," she smiled as she hung up.

Idiots.

Maybe Derek was too serious about the "no profiling each other" rule they set.

"Let’s go, pretty boy," The dark-skinned agent stated. Spencer got up, grabbed his bag and made his way to the elevator with her.

As they chatted about nothing in particular, walking out of the precinct, he desperately wanted to ask him if she truly didn't see past Penelope's sudden shyness. It wasn't in his nature to do that, of course, but as Derek and Penelope were two of the most important people in his life, he wondered why wouldn't they be a thing by now, since they enjoyed themselves so much and were so open about their affections towards one another.

He was quickly ripped away from his thoughts when the man suddenly spoke up, “So, what's your deal lately, Reid? What's she like?"

The doctor choked on his own saliva, which made him cough like crazy. Derek laughed, but tried to help his panicked friend. "What was that, man?" he asked worriedly, once he saw Spencer had finally inhaled a gulp of air.

Face as red as a tomato, cough dying in his throat, "what was what?" Derek returned to his normal self once he noticed his friend was able to finally form a coherent sentence.

"You're gonna act dumb now that you almost died when I talked about her?" Derek questioned, teasing tone, "it was just a lucky guess, but I see you, Reid. You're daydreaming far too often for what's acceptable for the boy genius who's as focused as a laser beam."

Spencer looked straight ahead as they got to the exit. He should have cornered Derek first. "Why would you think it has anything to do with a 'her'?" He chuckled, nervous to be caught red-handed — even if he wasn't doing anything wrong.

Was it wrong to want? He felt like it was. All his life, really. Had no chance to want anything because either was a far too distant reality, person, happiness for him to grasp it or it was ripped away from him too soon, before he could even acknowledge what was happening inside him. That's why want was almost a foreign sensation for Spencer. He had been deprived of it for as long as he could remember.

"Because people get a little dumb when they're in love. At least, ordinary people do. Apparently, so do geniuses," he snickered, his mind also set on teasing Spencer.

Maybe it was dumb to reveal his secret, jaw dropping crush on his cute neighbor, but he wanted some sort of relief to that mess of tangled thoughts inside his head and the strange, to say the least, feelings brewing on his chest whenever he saw you. You barely knew each other. But he supposed it was yet another part of the want he wasn’t familiar with: it didn't need much and it took all consciousness out the door. It wasn't uncommon for him to feel like his heart was being ripped out of his chest whenever he was on the field, especially since he was often facing danger. The way the events were unfolding were scarily similar to his cases: he noticed you, made up theories based on your behavior and routine, and slowly, oh, so slowly, started to approach you. Not to put you away, but for more personal reasons.

What was different was the feeling in his heart, instead of the sensation of being squeezed painfully inside his ribcage, often leading to ragged breathing, now felt like it was being held delicately by a pair of caring, dainty hands. Either way, his heart was fighting in the frontline and relied on the other part to be calmed and saved. The least he could do was try to be careful, finally opting not saying anything to Derek.

"Just a lot on my mind lately," he chose to say, instead. Derek dropped the subject, too tired to press it further.

Olivia's party had come to an end an hour ago. You got to see old friends and talked until they got every single ounce of information about your life lately and so did you about theirs. Your daughter had enjoyed her party greatly, and hugged every. single. person. who came to wish her happy birthday and thanked them for being there. She paid little attention to the gifts, too focused on spending time with her friends, playing with them until the sugar rush wore off — all of them had a massive candy intake that day. You didn't spend much time with her, but she promised you that she would unwrap her gifts the next morning with you, the most adorable toothless grin on her face.

Despite everything flowing accordingly, all day long, your stomach churned with anticipation. You wondered if Olivia's dad would show up, since the day she was born was, quote, the happiest of his life. His parents did, and when you looked at them anxiously, his mother shot you a neutral glance. Not a word from his end was its meaning. Your daughter never asked anything about him during the day, which made you even more jittery. You feared she would have a breakdown at any time, so you paid extra attention to her.

It never came.

You had missed the deadline of a book chapter that you had to revise, too caught up on trying to balance everything in your life, so your parents told you they'd stay with her so you could go home to work and take her in the morning. Normally, you wouldn't accept it, but your father had decided you were too tired to wake her to go home, so you complied. Right after the guests left, you did all the steps of her night routine, except for the bedtime story — she was that tired of all the running around in the backyard. You were sure she would sleep all night long.

Once she dozed off, you stood for a moment in her grand-bedroom (she had come up with that and it kind of stuck with you). Your parents had decorated it while you were still pregnant. She needs to feel at home, was what your mother said when you walked in on them assembling her crib. You almost cried, overwhelmed with joy. Your fiancé, then, had rolled up his sleeves to help out. Oh, the irony.

Her room was full of photographs that held many memories of her six years of life. You could never imagine that you could love this much, let alone dedicate yourself so entirely to someone like you did for her. Even though it was hard and you often didn't feel like you were enough to raise her on your own, Olivia was a wonderful child and her gestures and overall behavior assured you you were doing a good job. The reflection brought tears to your eyes. You drove home by yourself.

Currently, in your apartment, it felt a little too big without Olivia in there — too many books, too many chairs, too much space on your sofa, too many toys scattered around with nobody to play with them. You sighed, deciding on going to the kitchen to make you a cup of tea — you felt like your brain was hammering inside your skull and you still needed to spend time in front of a computer screen. Going back to your small office to wallow in self pity and second guess yourself even as you read whatever material it was, you heard a knock on the door.

You checked your watch. 9p.m. On a Saturday.

Weird.

Through the peephole, you saw someone you truly weren't expecting. "Spencer?" You asked as you opened the door, surprise filling your being. "I didn't think you'd come, I supposed you were at work. I mean, sometimes it feels like you barely have a routine, heh. But, um, thanks for dropping by." You said, a little unfiltered. Not even five seconds in his presence and you were already making a fool of yourself in front of him.

He held a small bouquet of flowers in one of his hands and a gift in the other. To a stranger's eye, it seemed like he had missed your birthday and was trying to apologize for it. You blushed at the thought. He shut his eyes, sorry crossing his features. "I know. I'm sorry I missed it, even though I really didn't want to. You were right, I was away on a case." You smiled, dismissing his apologies and soothing his worries once you did so.

"It's alright with me. She was totally expecting you, though. Kept asking where you were for the first hour. Then she got distracted with candy," you told him, "so she's the one you're gonna need to apologize to." You joked.

"T—that's why I'm here."

"I'm just not sure if Olivia is old enough to get flowers," you said, face serious. His eyes went wide and it took him a moment to understand, but once he looked at your serious expression cracking, his shoulders shook with laughter, with you. If you had more attention, you'd seen the moment his ears turned red.

Your laughter died down. A beat of silence. "These are actually for you." He revealed.

You were stunned. "Oh," you said, suddenly at a loss of words. "Thank you so much."

He gave you the flowers and you gracefully accepted. You were mesmerized by them; colors swimming in harmony before your eyes and the scent making you feel dizzy. Maybe not the scent, but the emotions you were feeling with the surprise. He went out of his way to get you those flowers — it's safe to say that it had been a while since you felt that way. "I—I have no words, Spencer. Really. Thank you so much," your voice choked.

You looked at each other for a brief moment. You tried to show how much you appreciated his gesture. You grinned, trying to get out of that haze, "Do you want to come in? Oli's with my parents, so you won't be able to apologize today," you quipped, making room for him to enter.

"Yeah, I'd love to."

"You can place the giftbox on the coffee table." He went inside, toeing off his shoes in the small space you had before the living room. Once he was there, he saw you enter the kitchen to find a vase. He could see you from where he stood. "Make yourself at home. Do you want some tea? I have Earl Gray."

Your voice was distant as he took in his surroundings. "Yeah, I'd like it." He murmured as he looked around. Your walls were a light gray, adorned with pictures of you and Olivia, some people he assumed were some of your friends. The wall behind the sofa was entirely covered by a big bookshelf that went from one end to the other, filled with books and souvenirs from basically everywhere. The dark wood of the furniture complemented the light walls in a cozy way, some toys and kids books scattered around the floor. The apartment smelled like fresh printed sheets of paper and earl gray tea. You had a few indoor plants that looked well taken care of. Spencer was admiring your degree from Stanford, which hung on the wall beside the TV, almost close to the door.

"One of my biggest achievements. Besides Olivia, of course," you approached him with his mug of tea. Turning to you, he noticed through his peripheral vision that you had placed the flowers inside a vase and in your coffee table.

"Thanks," he said.

"So... are you okay?"

The question caught him off guard. What?

You smiled a little. "You always look kinda tired when I see you," you said, not thinking about how your words might be interpreted. Your eyes widened, realizing it. "I mean, no! Sorry! You're still pretty, don't worry. It's just— I asked because you might be going through something. Forget I said anything about your looks."

He would definitely never forget.

Spencer laughed, flustered, eyes softly gazing at you while you rambled like a madman. "I'm fine, thanks for asking. Sometimes my job is a little demanding and I'm forced to see some things that usually people don't even think exist," he confessed.

You bit your lip. "I'm sorry."

"You don't need to be," he retorted, "I have a great team to work with."

"I'm glad to hear that. Sorry I brought it up, you probably don't want to talk about work right now." You said, sipping on your tea.

"Yeah, you're right, again," he chuckled. "How was Olivia's birthday?" He tried a change of subject.

"That was actually the reason I was moping when you got here," you said, trying to force a chuckle. "It was nice, I guess. I was just on edge all day trying to anticipate her emotions regarding her dad, but I guess they never came. At least, not today." You beckoned him to sit with you on the couch, now facing each other directly.

"May I ask why?" He asked, tentatively.

"Why what?"

More hesitance. "Why wasn't he there?"

"From what I know, he moved away." You said, tone unreadable.

He worried that he was overstepping and wasn't sure that he would like to hear more about it. He was scared to find out unpleasant news, such as you still had feelings for him. "I'm sorry." Was all he could muster.

"Don't be. I have a great team," you repeated his words from earlier and he smiled at you.

His brain and tongue didn't seem to be working together that night, he was so avid to know more. "Did you always have support?"

"My parents didn't like the idea of having a single mother when they first heard it. It hit me hard back then, but then I realized it was better to be alone than to stay in an unhappy relationship, especially since Olivia was already in the picture." You said, setting your own mug on the coffee table.

"What happened?" Stop it.

He couldn't help it, he was too curious. It was his first opportunity to truly know the novel sort of family that you had. Apparently, not so much.

"He was distant before leaving. Someone else, maybe?" You asked, rhetorically, a crease between your eyebrows. "I never found out, but I don't want or need to, either. His parents absolutely love Olivia and they were there today, 's all that matters."

"You’re a very strong person."

"I have to be," you said, softly. "You’re a very good listener."

A rush of courage running through his veins. Deciding on not taking the road of unsaid things, like his friends were earlier. Don’t dance around the subject, take the opportunity. Dare. "And you're just as pretty."

The world stopped. You looked at him in disbelief. It didn't last much. A knock on your door. Scratch that: someone banging on your door.

You pinched your eyebrows together. Spencer stood up, almost as if he was doing something wrong. You looked at him, apologizing, "I'm not expecting anyone."

You walked to the door and he stood behind you, telling you he was going to let you be. You didn't want to and you were already chastising yourself from not trying to talk to him and focusing on your problems instead. You opened the door and in the threshold stood Penelope Garcia, gift basket in hands. Before you could speak, both of your guests spoke at the same time.

A mortified "Garcia?" from Spencer.

A surprised "Spencer?" from Penelope.

Finally, a confused "Do you know each other?" from you.

"Yeah. We work together." Spencer replied. "What are you doing here, Penelope?"

"What are you doing here, boygenius?" Her tone now was teasing, a cheshire grin on her face. You were acting confused, but you were loving to see Spencer so out of place.

"I... I was..." He trailed off.

Poor thing. "He came to drop Olivia's gift. We're neighbors." You explained, trying to save him from further embarrassment.

She glanced between you two, eyes full of mirth behind her glasses. "I'm here to do the same." She said, smiling as she handed you the basket, which you took carefully and thanked her with a side hug. "There's her present, sweetcheeks. I'm so sorry I couldn't be there, you know how much I miss you and Olivia. But I'm sure our genius told you all about it." Her sentimental words truly held emotion, but she turned her attention to Spencer once again. The opportunity was too good to let go.

Spencer looked like a fish out of water. You opened your mouth to speak, but he beat you to it. "Garcia, can we talk?" He asked abruptly. "I'm sorry, I have to go." He murmured in a much more soft tone to you.

He could never resume whatever was going on in there because he felt like he had been caught with his pants down.

You were so surprised you didn't even process what was your answer, forgetting to ask if Penelope wanted to come in or anything. "I—Okay. I'll see you, then." With a small smile and slight disappointment in your voice. He all but dashed out of your apartment and took Garcia, who had a mischievous expression on her face, with him. You closed your door and looked at the mix of flowers. A sigh escaped you. Damn, Garcia.

Spencer was escorting Penelope back to her car, ready to bury himself alive because he knew she would run her mouth and knew precisely to whom she would tell about it. And, of course, the endless jokes he would hear during the next few days. "Sooooo..." She trailed off, suggestively.

"I—don't want to talk." She opened her mouth, but had no success in talking. "Not. A. Word."

She entered her car and started the engine as he waited for her to go. But before she started driving, she yelled, "I knew you had it in you, Reid."

From your balcony, work long forgotten, you watched Spencer hide his face in his hands in utter embarrassment.

You were doomed.

[plulp]

heres an idea: we put swap Whitney in a blender - prarie anon

ahhh ahhhh oh no ahhh hes been blended :(

[sweet-villain]

Cause I Believe~ Older Eddie Munson ~3

Part 2

Summary : You and Eddie keep poking each other until Steve has your back.

“You’re going to love it,” Dustin beamed as he pushed open the door to the record store, the familiar chime of bells ringing out.

Dusty light filtered through racks of vinyl, reflecting the vivid album covers. The scent of old paper and musky wood enveloped you, yet an inexplicable tension hung in the air.

“Uh, about that… I’m not sure I—”

“Shh!” Dustin dropped his voice, eyes wide. “Look over there!”

You followed his gaze. Eddie Munson stood behind the counter, arms crossed, brow furrowed. The chain around his neck jingled slightly as he leaned forward, fixing a scowl on you. He wore a sleeveless top and black skinny jeans as his hair held up in a messy bun. 

“What are you doing here?” Eddie’s voice sliced through the murmur of the store like a serrated knife.

“Dustin brought me,” you mumbled, feeling heat prick at your cheeks.

A flicker of annoyance flickered in his eyes. “Great. Just what I needed.”

Dustin elbowed you gently, eyes dancing. “Come on, don’t be shy. Eddie loves having guests.”

“Yeah, my favorite hobby,” Eddie replied, smirking with a hint of sarcasm. “You two can browse while I pretend to care.”

Your feet shifted, the need to bolt coursing through you. “Maybe I should—”

“Stay,” he interrupted, expression darkening. “It’s fine.”

A silence draped over you, thick and heavy, as you weighed your options.

You bite down on your bottom lip, chewing on it enough to draw blood. You were looking around the store, it looks more like Eddie style as he must of changed it up. 

“Do you have any new arrivals?” Dustin asked, enthusiasm bubbling in his voice.

Eddie rolled his eyes but a faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “If I had a nickel for every time someone asked me that…” He shook the piggy bank on the counter, " I'd be rich." 

Dustin leaned against the counter, practically vibrating with curiosity. “So, what’s the latest? You got anything that’ll blow our minds?” 

Eddie snorted, " Like blow princess mind over there, hm?" he motions to you. 

You squirmed under that slight jab, the warm embarrassment creeping up your neck.

“I—” you stammered.

Dustin’s laughter bubbled. “Eddie’s just kidding! He has a warped sense of humor. Isn’t that right?" 

" Right you are" Eddie rolls his eyes, " Princess over there said she was done with the banter, now she's back for more.. classic..." 

Eddie leaned back against the counter, arms crossed defiantly. “I’m just stating facts. Look at her—she wants to bolt.”

You held your ground, brows furrowing. “I thought you liked it when people came by.”

He snorted, " not when they are ... you" Dustin chuckled, tapping his fingers on the counter. “Come on, Eddie, don’t scare her off. She’s brave enough to come here.” 

Eddie leaned forward, his piercing gaze locking onto yours. “Is she really? I thought the princess had enough of me, her words exactly " I'm done with you" Eddie waves his hands as he rolled his eyes.

A spark of fire ignited in your chest. “I never said I was done.” 

“Yeah?” Eddie leaned in, an eyebrow cocked, curiosity flaring. “What did you say then?”

You glanced around, the tension pooled between, " You're complicated, Munson. It's irritating and making things hard when you shut people out, when all I want to do is get close to you and be your friend. " 

His eyes narrowed, the smirk faltering. “Close or... closer? You know what I mean.” He straightened up. “Can’t keep everyone at arm’s length forever, then watch them get hurt, I am not intrested to be your therapist or your friend, sweetheart. " 

A rush of frustration pulsed through you. “I don’t need a therapist. I just want—”

“What? A tour of my tragic life story?” Eddie interrupted, arms crossed tighter against his chest, his jaw clenched. “How it you always want to prick at me? Only me?" he asks. 

A spark of defiance flickered in your chest. “You make it sound like I’m the villain. I just—”

“Just what? Sneak in, play the friend card, then disappear once things get real?” Eddie leaned forward. " Take my advice sweetheart, just because your my neightbor doesn't mean I want a buddy or the next person to fuck.." 

You clenched your fists, heart hammering in your chest. “You don’t get to decide that for me, Munson. I can choose who I want to be around.”

" Just go back to bussing the table's at Harrington's diner." 

The words landed like a cold splash of water. You bristled, fists tightening at your sides as the weight of his word hung between you.

“Do you think you know me that well?” you shot back, your voice low but steady. " I just moved here, I don't know anyone like you do shit head. I'm thankful your friends helped me and Steve gave me a job." 

Eddie smirked, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly. “Oh, right. The noble job at the diner. What a solid life choice, huh? Look at you—soaring through the world one plate at a time.”

" At least I don't smell like a trash can, and look decent" you motion to yourself. 

Eddie’s brow arched, amusement flaring in his eyes like a spark igniting kindling. “Oh, sweetheart, don’t flatter yourself. I’d like to think I’m a classic original, not some cookie-cutter model in a tray." 

" Look at you, you put your hair up today. You probably didn't wash it and said what the hell, your clothes are wrinkled and when was the last time you did laundry?" 

Eddie’s lips parted in mock offense. “Just because I like to live in the moment doesn’t mean I’m a complete disaster.”

“Right, because that ‘living in the moment’ look is definitely all the rage now,” you shot back. 

"At least I can get laid" he shot back, annoyed. The challenge hung in the air like a thunderhead, palpable and charged. You narrowed your eyes at him. “Maybe you should stop relying on that one-liner, Munson. Not every girl is taken in by bravado and half-hearted insults and whatever this is" you point towards him.

Eddie leaned back, arms folding tighter against his chest, as if bracing for impact. “What can I say? I’m an acquired taste.” 

“More like a bad aftertaste,” you countered, a smirk tugging at your lips. " Bet you're carrying something too with how many times that dicks been around." 

Eddie’s eyes widened, a flicker of surprise passing over his face before he quickly masked it with a cocky grin. “Ah, I see what you did there. Feel free to swing that witty banter my way anytime.” He leaned against the records. 

" Now guys, don't argue and do this" Dustin says standing between the two of you. 

Dustin raised his hands like a referee caught in a boxing match, shifting awkwardly. “Come on, you two! This is a record store, not a wrestling ring.”

" She can't handle anything coming out of my mouth" Eddie mutters. 

Dustin rolled his eyes. “Seriously, Eddie? She’s standing right here.”

“Let her speak for herself then,” Eddie leaned back against the counter, his gaze unwavering. 

Unsure whether to feel offended or amused, you narrowed your glance at Eddie. 

" Hey smelly, your zipper is down" you pointed out. 

Eddie’s hands darted down to his jeans, fingers fumbling over the unzipped fly. A sharp breath hissed from his lips, and he shot you a look—that mix of horror and indignation.

“Very funny,” he mutters.

" You missed a button on the pants too" you snickered.Eddie shot you a glare, the flush of embarrassment painting his cheeks.

“Laughter doesn’t suit you, princess.” He fumbled to fix his fly, frustration spilling from him like a poorly written punk song. “Try harder next time.”

" Your tattoos stink too, random patterns and don't make sense. Did you draw them yourself?" you asked. 

Eddie’s jaw dropped in mock offense, his brown eyes narrowing to slits. “Excuse me? You might not grasp the subtle beauty of my ink, but it’s a map of my soul, babe.”

“Don't call me babe, that's not in your vocabualry" 

Eddie leaned closer, mischief dancing in his eyes. “Oh, but I think it is now. You seem to inspire creativity in me,” he shot back, voice low and playful.

“Is that what you call that? Creativity?” You asked.

" Guys!" Dustin shouted, " Stop it"

“Fine.” Eddie raised his hands in mock surrender, the defiant glint in his eyes still unyielding. “I’ll keep the creativity to myself. Wouldn’t want to overwhelm anyone.” 

" Giving up already, Munson?" He stops in his tracks, his nose twitching in annoyance. 

Eddie’s jaw ticked, the hint of a challenge sparking in those dark eyes. “I don’t give up, sweetheart. I merely adjust my strategy.” He stepped closer, closing the distance. 

" Watch your mouth" he adds. Eddie’s breath brushed against your skin, an intoxicating mix of musk and rebellion. You held his gaze, daring him to step even closer.

“Just adjusting it, huh?” you shot back, feeling the hum of tension crackling between you two. 

" You're still new here, sweetheart. Don't fall into a hole" he chuckles, " or fall on your ass at the diner." 

“Maybe you should worry about falling into your own hole,” you fired back, the heat of the moment giving you courage. “I wouldn’t want you to cut yourself on all those jagged edges.”

Eddie’s lips curled into a wicked grin.

" What a mouth you have" he leans close, " get out of my store." 

You stood your ground, heart racing, the tension between you thickening like smoke in the air. 

“Am I banned already?” you teased, crossing your arms defiantly. 

Eddie leaned back again, the corner of his mouth tugging into a smirk.

" This isn't a place for you, sweetheart." Dustin rolled his eyes, interjecting with a bold gesture. “Seriously, Eddie. Any girl brave enough to face you deserves a medal, not a ‘get out’ sign.”

Eddie leaned back, crossing his arms with a cocky grin. 

" She's not a girl, she's a brat" he says. 

Dustin threw his hands up in exasperation. “Congratulations, Eddie. You’ve managed to offend everyone in one sentence. Seriously, who taught you how to interact with people?”

You rolled your eyes at Dustin’s response, allowing the corner of your mouth to smirk.

" Let him, Dustin. He's going to get what's coming to him" 

“Yeah, well, I doubt that’s going to be pretty,” Eddie shot back, the sarcasm dripping from his words. He leaned against the counter, arms crossed defiantly. 

" Oh Eddie" Dustin pinched the brige of his nose. 

“Seriously, man. Just let her be. You’re practically a magnet for trouble,” Dustin continued, glancing between you and Eddie.

Eddie shrugged, feigning indifference, though the amusement sparkled in his eyes. “Trouble? As if she can handle me." He points a thumb your way. 

“Handle you? I believe I’m doing just fine, thank you,” you shot back, feeling a rush of adrenaline fuel your words.

Eddie chuckled, arms stretching as he leaned back against the counter, clearly amused by the back-and-forth.

" Handle me? You could never handle a real man like me" 

“Real man?” You scoffed, the words dripping with sarcasm. “I think you’re more of a fantasy than anything close to reality, Munson.”

Eddie feigned shock, a look of exaggerated disbelief flashing across his face.

" Nice to know you fantize about me, sweetheart" 

Your heart raced—not entirely from his teasing words but rather from the simmering electricity between the two of you. You rolled your eyes, playing it cool. “Please. That’s a nightmare, not a fantasy. Too much leather and... what was just a bad taste in my mouth." 

The door opened as people stepped in, Eddie moved his hands, " I have real customers to attend to." 

Eddie's voice sliced through the tension, a clear dismissal hanging in the air like the scent of burnt toast. He turned, catching the newcomers with a blink-and-snap attention, pushing the playful atmosphere aside like a pile of discarded records.

Dustin mumbles, " ignore him. He's just being Eddie." 

You flipped Eddie off behind his back and it's like he knew you would do that as he turned around to catch it. 

Eddie caught your gesture, his eyes narrowing into slits of amusement. A mocking grin spread across his lips as he crossed his arms. “Charming. Real classy, sweetheart,” he quipped, the edge of his voice laced with a venom.

You put the other finger up to match your hand, grinning at him. 

A bemused glint sparked in Eddie’s eyes as he surveyed the double-barreled salute. “You’ve got spirit, I’ll give you that,” he said, smirking. “But I’m not so easily intimidated, sweetheart.”

This time you knocked over a bunch of stacked records, shrugging. 

" Oops" 

The vinyls tumbled like dominos, a cacophony of sound echoing through the store. Dustin’s eyes widened as he dove to catch a few.

“Whoa—be careful!” he exclaimed, trying to salvage the albums.

Eddie gasped as he grabbed his hair racing to get to them. 

Eddie sprinted around the counter, a dash of urgency breaking through his previous nonchalance. “Great, just great! These are limited editions, you know!” He dove to catch the albums tumbling toward the floor, eyes wide as if he scrambles to get them. 

Nothing was damaged but he's going to be hours at this. 

“Yeah, real shame if those special editions ended up with scratches,” you called out, feigning concern as you surveyed the chaos. The corner of your mouth twitched, suppressed laughter bubbling beneath your annoyance. 

Eddie grunted, hands gripping one as he glared up at you. 

“Just so you know,” he huffed, “vinyl isn’t just for decoration, okay? They’re sacred!” 

You leaned against a nearby shelf, arms crossed, feigning innocence. “ I spy another stack, and my fingers are itching..." you taunt him. 

Eddie’s eyes flared, a mixture of irritation and amusement painting his features. “Touch one more and I might just ban you for life, sweetheart. You’re treading on thin vinyl.” 

Dustin scrambled to his feet, helping Eddie up as he shook his head at you. 

" Y/N, don't. Don't do it." 

You smirked making your way to his counter, seeing Eddie's backpack on the seat. 

" What do we have here.." 

Eddie’s eyes darted to his backpack, panic flickering across his face like shadows skittering in the wind. “No, no, no! Don’t touch that!” He lunged forward. But your hands are already on his song book.

You flipped the cover open, a whirlwind of scribbled lyrics and doodles spilling out like secrets. Eddie halted mid-lunge, his expression morphing from hurried concern to a mix of disbelief and fury.

“Seriously?” he hissed, heart racing as he stomped over. 

" These are really deep... oh this is about a girl.." you continued to read. Eddie’s eyes widened; the color drained from his face. “You’ve got no business looking at that!” His voice dropped an octave, baring sharp edges as he reached for the book, but you danced sideways, holding it just out of his reach. 

" I swear... you're annoying little shit!" he shouts. 

Eddie lunged again, arms reaching for the notebook, but you deftly sidestepped, spinning away just as he made contact. The reckless thrill of the chase danced between you, an unexpected exhilaration igniting the air. 

“Oh she broke your heart... oh boo hoo..." you put your fist up to your eyes pretending to cry. Eddie’s eyes blazed with a mix of irritation and amusement. “It’s not funny, princess!” He arched an eyebrow, hands planted firmly on his hips, trying to exude authority despite the absurdity of the situation.

“Oh, and you loved her... awe... so your still heart broken over her?" 

Eddie’s expression twisted between annoyance and embarrassment. “How creative of you, Y/N. Why don’t you just take your little act on the road?” His hands fisted at his sides, muscles taut with a mix of frustration and something else.

You flipped a page, your voice trailing off as you scanned the handwritten lyrics. The words jumped out, raw and unfiltered. Pain, longing, and a haunting melody flowed from the page, capturing emotions too vast to contain. 

Eddie lunged and took the book from you.

You caught sight of the box at the edge of the counter—a treasure trove of colorful guitar picks, some adorned with skulls, others with cartoon characters. A devious grin formed on your lips. 

“Oh, what do we have here?”

" Would you stop touching my shit?" 

Eddie’s voice dripped with exasperation, eyes narrowing at you. “Those aren’t toys, you know.”

You shrugged, flicking through the box of picks, your fingers dancing over the designs. “ I could use some of these.." you trailed. 

Eddie’s irritation simmered just below the surface, his hand reaching to snatch them back. “Those are mine! Seriously, you can’t just pluck at my stuff like it’s fair game.” 

You flicked a sparkly pink, " You like pink? The color pink? Are you secretly a princess, Munson?" 

Eddie’s eyes widened, a mixture of offense and disbelief washing over his features. “First of all, who doesn’t like a good pop of color? And second, I am not a princess.” He snatched the pick from your fingers, and that's when you see a guitar necklace. 

" Don't touch that, Y/N" Dustin warns knowing what you just took in your hands. The guitar necklace dangled from your fingers, catching the light with its glossy finish. A tiny electric guitar dangled at the end of a delicate chain, the craftsmanship exquisite. 

Eddie’s eyes widened, panic etching his features. “Seriously! That is off limits" he growled, eyes full of hurt. 

You swung the necklace gently, letting it shimmer in the light. “What’s this? A token of your accomplishments, Eddie? Or is it a gift for a special someone?” The sarcasm dripped from your tone, the thrill of teasing him. 

His eyes brim with tears as he pushed you against the counter and snatched the necklace as he said not a word to you. 

Eddie's grip tightened around the tiny electric guitar pendant, his breathing ragged. The intimacy of the moment hung between you, thick and electric, like the air before a storm.

" Don't touch what doesn't belong to you, kid" 

His voice dropped to a low growl, his eyes flashing with a fierce intensity. The close proximity set your heart racing, the warmth of his body radiating against yours, defiance bubbling just beneath the surface.

“Fine,” you shot back, " nothing special about it anyways" Eddie jaw tenses as he looks at Dusin. 

" You either take her out of here before I snap or there will be hell..." 

Dustin held his hands up, wide-eyed, a referee caught between two feuding players. “Okay, how about we all just breathe for a second?”

" Dustin" Eddie warns. 

Dustin raised his hands higher, his eyes darting between the two of you, desperate to diffuse the tension. “We can talk this out, guys. Really. No need to escalate, right?”

" Get her out of here, now Henderson!" Eddie shouts. 

You glared at him, heart pounding, desperate to maintain the bravado. Eddie, with his wild hair and defiance, had a way of throwing you off balance; he was like chaos wrapped in leather and ink.

“Okay, okay!” Dustin said taking your hands, " What have you done, Y/N... " Dustin pushes you out as he talks. 

Once outside, the bustling noise of the street swallowed the tumultuous atmosphere of the record store. The sunlight beat down, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air as you let out a sharp breath. A swirl of emotions swirled within you—

" I didn't meant to, I just was playing around" you mumbled. 

Dustin rubbed the back of his neck, glancing back at the store. “Trust me, things can get tense between you two. You really shouldn't poke at him like that. You know how Eddie is.”

" No I don't know, I just moved here not long ago" 

Dustin sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “You’re like a magnet for chaos, you know that? Eddie's one of my best friends, but he has... a lot going on.." 

" I'm sorry, Dustin" 

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it with him,” Dustin said, shaking his head. “He doesn’t do well with people prying into his life. Especially when it comes to his—” he hesitated, searching for the right words.

" His what?" 

Dustin shifted uncomfortably, glancing at the ground as if the asphalt could offer him some kind of guidance. “His past,” he finally said, frustration creeping into his voice. “He’s had a rough go of it. Just…" 

" Just what?" 

Dustin hesitated, glancing again towards the record store, his expression pained as if he were weighing the consequences of speaking too freely. 

“Eddie doesn’t let many people in, okay? He guards his heart like it's everythign to him." 

You crossed your arms, letting Dustin's words settle like heavy stones in your gut. “So, what? I have to tiptoe around him? Play nice just to stay on his good side?”

Dustin sighed, his expression a mix of emotions.

" Just let him be" 

“Let him be?” you echoed, arms still crossed, the weight of the situation settling heavily on your shoulders. “Isn’t that exactly what’s gotten us to this point? I can’t just pretend he’s some untouchable person. He lives next door for crying out loud." 

Dustin pinched the bridge of his nose, visibly torn between your frustrations and Eddie’s burdens. “It’s not that simple. You push him, you’ll only drive him further away. Trust me.”

“Trust you?” You scoffed, " that's hard." 

Dustin winced, hands shoved deep into his pockets, shoulders slumping slightly. “I get that you don’t know him. And honestly, I can’t blame you for being frustrated. But Eddie... he’s different. You have to treat him carefully.. he's been through worse than all of us has.." 

You ran a hand through your hair, frustration bubbling like molten lava beneath your skin. “So what, I’m just supposed to coddle him? Buy him flowers and serenade him to win his heart?” 

Dustin chuckled, " He's not into that." 

“Exactly! He’s all about the edgy, tortured artist routine,” you snapped, exasperation boiling over. “I’m tripping over myself trying to figure him out, and all I get in return is attitude wrapped in leather and sarcasm." 

Dustin sighs, " Give him time." 

“Time,” you echoed, bitterness lacing the word. “Time doesn’t change someone who’s stubborn as a mule and closed off like a vault.” 

" You don't know him like I do" 

" Yeah he calls me kid, I'm not that young and he brings girls over every weekend. It never stops..." Dustin frowned, running a hand through his unruly hair. “He’s not bringing them over for good reasons. Trust me.” He glanced back toward the record store, worry etching his features. “You have no idea what he’s dealing with." 

" He's fucking them left and right and I have to hear it all" 

Dustin grimaced, and you could see the gears turning in his mind.

“Look, I know it sounds wild. Maybe it’s a defense mechanism or...” his voice trailed off, uncertainty flickering in his brown eyes. “Eddie's complicated, but he has his moments. He's my best friend and one of many I've trusted with my life.." 

You let out a breath, frustration mixing with something deeper—curiosity, maybe. “Moments? Like being a jerk?” 

" No" Dustin shook his head, " you'll understand one day.." 

You crossed your arms tighter, clouded thoughts swirling like storm clouds. “I’m all ears if you want to elaborate.”

"Don't you have work? Steve might rip my head off if I make you late" 

You glanced at the clock on the shop's mirrored wall, its hands ticking ominously. “Crap, I really do,” you muttered, guilt twisting in your stomach.

" Drive safe" Dustin says, " Don't be too hard on yourself either." 

You nodded, forcing a smile as you turned away, but the knot in your stomach lingered like a heavy stone. The conversation replayed in your mind as you strode down the street—Eddie’s sharp tongue, those fierce eyes, and the anger. 

As you arrived at the diner, Steve had a phone in his hand.

" I was about to call you, where have you been?" He asks. 

You brushed a hand through your hair, still feeling the sting of your earlier encounter with Eddie at the record store. “Just… hanging out,” you replied, a little too quickly, glancing away as you walked past Steve towards the bustling kitchen.

Steve follows sensing something isn't right. 

" What happened?" 

You shrugged, forcing a smile that felt more like a mask than anything genuine. “Nothing, really. Just... hanging out with Dustin.”

Steve raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Dustin doesn’t usually leave you looking like someone just stepped on a banana peel." 

" Steve, please" 

You straightened, the mask slipping ever so slightly. “I just had a… disagreement with Eddie..." 

Steve leaned against the counter, arms crossed, his brow furrowing. " Oh, you two haven't fucked yet?" 

A wave of heat rushed up your neck, and for a moment, you were too stunned to respond. 

“What?” Steve laughed, clearly enjoying the shock on your face. “It’s a valid question!"

" Absouletly not, Harrington" your nose scrunched up. 

Steve crossed his arms, the grin stretching wider. "Oh, come on! That’s the fun part, right? The tension, the fighting, and the inevitable—”

“Steve!” You interrupted, heat spilling over, forcing it down before anyon hears. " Eddie would be the last person I fuck if the world ended." 

Steve laughed, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Sure, keep telling yourself that. It sounds convincing.” 

" I would rather have you instead" you giggled, teasing, " Eddie is more like a trash can." 

Steve's smirk widened, eyes alight with amusement. “Are you suggesting I’m the shiny new model? Because I’d argue I’m more like the deluxe edition.” He adjusted an imaginary tie, the playful confidence rolling off him in waves.

" You're funny, but I'm saying if it came down to fucking. It would be you over Eddie any day." 

Steve's laugh echoed through the kitchen, bright and infectious. “Oh, I appreciate the compliment. You know I’m a solid choice.” He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, a playful glint lighting up his eyes. “But you have the hots for Eddie." 

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms defiantly. “I don’t have the ‘hots’ for anyone. Especially not him.” 

Steve leaned in, that mischievous sparkle dancing in his gaze. “Oh, really? Because the way you talk about him says otherwise. It's always Eddie this and Eddie that." 

You scoffed, throwing your hands up in exasperation. “It’s not like that, Steve! Eddie’s just... infuriating. It’s like he has this magnetic pull, but also a hundred explosive landmines.”

Steve grins, " Don't admit, it's okay. But your not fooling anyone. Plus don't look now but he's coming in now." 

Your eyes grew wide as you hide behind the counter, " Take him please" you begged Steve. 

Steve barely suppressed a laugh. "You really think hiding is going to solve this?" 

“Shh!” You shot a panicked look at him, keeping low as Eddie crossed the threshold into the diner. The door swung shut behind him with a jingle. He looked around, grumbling knowing you were working today. 

Eddie’s gaze scanned the diner, lingering on a few patrons before landing on Steve, who stood half-leaning against the counter, trying to suppress his smirk. You ducked behind the counter, hands gripping the edge, heart pounding in rib cage and holding the note pad with the other. 

" Harrington!" 

Eddie’s voice boomed across the diner, cutting through the low hum of chatter and clinking dishes. 

“Hey, Munson!” Steve called back, grinning like a cat that had just caught the canary. “What can I do for you?" Steve glanced down at you for a quick second but you shot him a glare to not give you away. 

Eddie sauntered towards the counter, hands tucked into the pockets of his worn jeans, the leather jacket hanging just right on his shoulders. “I was hoping you had something stronger than coffee here,” he said with a hint of mockery.

" Rough day? Had a battle with someone?" He asked, Steve was grinning like a Cherish cat. 

Eddie sauntered closer, his expression a mix of amusement and annoyance. “You can say that,” he drawled, leaning against the counter with an air of careless confidence, trying to appear nonchalant.

Steve playfully kicked you as he turned around to get something for Eddie. 

You glared at Steve, burning with the urge to take that notebook and fling it right at him. Instead, you ducked lower, shifting your weight as if that would somehow make you invisible.

“Care for a menu, or are you just here for the strong drink?" Eddie hummed tapping his fingers on the counter. 

“Just a strong drink would be nice,” he replied, his voice laced with casual confidence. “But if you have anything with a twist, I’ll take that too. You know, to go probably.." 

" You look like your looking for someone" Steve says. Your eyes got wide as you shot him a glare as he smirks. " Perhaps a girl" if looks could kill, you were doing that shooting at Steve with a look. 

Eddie’s laughter echoed softly, amused yet tinged with something sharper, as he leaned closer, eyebrows arched. “A girl? Why, Harrington, is that the latest gossip? What’ve you been spreading around—my tragic love life?" 

" You know I'm a gossip queen" Steve rolled his eyes as he waved him off. 

" No.. but I do have to say, isn't what's her face working today..." 

Eddie's eyes flickered over the diner again, landing just short of the counter where you huddled, unseen.

" Who are you on about?" Steve asked, placing his hand on the counter where your head was just below.

“Y/N!” Eddie called, his voice sharp as knife, slicing through the chatter and clatter of the diner like a lightning bolt. “I know you’re hiding back there. Come on, don’t be like that.”

" She's not here, she took the day off" Steve backed you up.

Eddie's eyes narrowed, and a sly smirk crept across his lips. “Oh, really? Because I have this uncanny feeling she’s just trying to avoid me.” 

You kept your head down, fighting the urge to bolt right out. 

" She's not here, Munson. Something about not feeling well. I got it covered around here" 

Eddie leaned in, eyebrows arched, a challenge flickering in his gaze. “You sure about that, Harrington? Because I distinctly remember her being more... lively this morning.” He cast a knowing glance toward the counter where you cowered.

You held in your breathe crawling your way into the kitchen slowly to be not seen by Eddie. 

" She's not here, I promise you Munson" Steve put on a face that Eddie would believe. 

“Is that so?” Eddie leaned closer, crossing his arms over the counter, a cocky grin curling his lips. “Because I swear I could hear her heart racing from a mile away.” 

Your heart pounded at Eddie's words, reverberating against the walls of your chest. You pressed your back against the kitchen wall, hoping it could swallow you whole. 

“Why do you even care?” Steve shot back, maintaining his cool.

Eddie pursed his lips, " She's fun to poke at." 

Steve raised an eyebrow, a hint of amusement dancing in his gaze. “Fun or infuriating? Because it seems like you two are perpetually at each other's throats.” 

“Both,” Eddie replied smoothly, the corner of his mouth twitch.Oh you wanted to say something to him but held your breathe. 

" You know she's new in town, don't have to be such a jerk and you live next door to her." 

Eddie shrugged, the cockiness unyielding in his stance. “That’s the fun part, Harrington. I like to keep things interesting. Plus, she can handle herself.” 

" You like her, older Eddie likes her.." Steve nods. 

Eddie snorted, the smirk plastered on his face unwavering. “Like her? She’s more like a thorn in my side.” 

" Right, and that’s why you’re here trying to assess her whereabouts," Steve scoffed. 

" I know she's here" Eddie says. 

Eddie’s gaze sharpened, eyes narrowing as if he were hunting for prey. “I can sense her. It’s like she’s a color in a world of black and white.”

“Dude, you sound like a creep,” Steve said. 

" Then what's this?" Eddie picks up your phone in his hands as he waves it around. 

Eddie’s fingers flicked over your phone, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Found this gem on the counter. Looks like our little secret gadget can’t hide after all.” 

You stifled a groan, pressing your back.

Steve snatched it out of Eddie's hands. 

" She dropped it, Dustin brought it here" Steve lies, he knew you were with Dustin as you told him before. 

Eddie's eyes flickered with suspicion but he shrugged, showing the slightest hint of indifference. “Dustin, huh? Well, I guess he must be keeping her company,” he mumbles. 

" You know, she's a nice girl.." Steve starts. “Nice? Is that how you’d describe her?” Eddie leaned back, skepticism etched on his face. “You must’ve met a different ‘nice’ girl than I have.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Come on; you can’t honestly believe you don't want to be her friend.." 

Eddie crossed his arms, leaning back against the counter, a cocky grin illuminating his face. “Friend? Sure, in the same way a cat might befriend a mouse. You see, Harrington, there’s a fine line between bites." 

" She not a cat or a mouse, she's a human being trying to make ends meet like all of us. She wants to fit in, and I like her. "

Eddie shot Steve a bemused glance, eyebrow arched. “Like her? That’s rich coming from you. Last I checked, charm isn’t your strong suit.” 

" She's funny too" Steve continues. “Funny?” Eddie scoffed, tilting his head. “Is that what you’re calling her? I’d say ‘pain in my ass’ fits better.” 

" You don't see it do you, you like her.." 

Eddie shot Steve a glance, a weathered smirk still hovering at the corners of his mouth. “Like her? That’s rich, Harrington. You think I’m some lovesick puppy chasing after every girl who dares to throw my way." 

" One day someone will sweep her off her feet and you'll be sorry" 

Eddie chuckled, a deep throaty sound that resonated like music but carried an edge. “Oh, please. I’m not worried about some prince charming whisking her away. She’s not exactly the type to fall for cliché romance.”

" Actually, you're wrong. You're very wrong." 

Steve leaned closer, a knowing smile blossoming across his lips. “Oh, yeah? And what makes you say that?" Eddie scoffed, crossing his arms tighter. “You really think she’d be interested in the brooding rebel with a flair for drama? No thanks. She’d probably rather date a rock.” 

“ She has a date lined up" 

Eddie’s expression shifted, a flicker of something darker shadowing his features. “A date? With who?” His voice dropped, curiosity now laced with a hint of annoyance.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” Steve said, with a smirk. " But look at that, your eyes got darker and your whole expression changed." 

Eddie furrowed his brow, the casual bravado slipping just a little. “I’m just curious, that’s all. It’s not like I’m hunting for a reason to care.” 

“Right, sure,” Steve replied, leaning to clean the counter. " And I wouldn't tell you, Eddie." 

Eddie’s gaze bore into Steve, lips twisting into a sardonic smile. “What are you, my counselor now? I don’t need a shrine built to worship my love life. I’m just fine on my own.”

" Just you watch, when she gets a boyfriend, it will all come crashing down.." Steve tsked. 

Eddie’s eyes flickered, the crack in his facade momentarily exposing something raw and vulnerable beneath. “Yeah? You think she’ll just pack up her bags and leave me behind?” His voice lowered.

" She will be done with your games. It will be all over" 

Eddie’s eyes darkened, a flicker of anger rippling beneath the surface. “Games?” he scoffed, disbelief coloring his tone. “You think this is a game? She’s not some pawn on a chessboard, Harrington." 

" Then quit poking her" 

Eddie clenched his jaw, the tension coiling tighter around him. “You think I’m poking her just for kicks? It’s not like I’m out here trying to ruin her life.” 

Steve rolled his eyes, crossing his arms, " No but your close to it." 

Eddie's flippant demeanor began to crack. “I’m not trying to ruin anything,” he shot back, voice low and gravelly. “She dishes it out just as much as I do. It’s... it’s a back-and forth.." 

" Why are you not getting it, Eddie.." 

“Because you aren’t making sense, Harrington!” Eddie snapped, frustration surging through him like hot fire. “It’s nothing but a game to her, always pushing those damn buttons. And I’m not going to let her walk all over me." 

" Then talk to her! Grow some balls, hang out with her." 

Eddie's expression contorted, caught between irritation and contemplation. “Talk to her?” He let out a scoff, hands gesturing wildly as he paced slightly. “What do you want me to do? Write her a diary entry or a song?" 

" You two live next door to her, instead of fuckign some girl. Take the time to talk to her" 

Eddie’s laughter rang harsh, but beneath it, you could hear a note of hesitation. “Talk to her? You want me to go up to her, all sunshine and rainbows, and say, ‘Hey, I’m Eddie. Let chat over a drink or a smoke?" 

" Yes" Steve nods, " or you will lose in the end" 

Eddie rolled his eyes, arms crossing tightly, a fortress formed around him. “And what makes you think she’d even want to hang out with me, huh? I’ve got a reputation.” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

" Because I know you Eddie, the real Eddie." 

Eddie glared at Steve, yet the challenge sparked something deeper within. “The real Eddie, huh? What part of my ‘realness’ makes me attractive to a girl like Y/N? She isn’t exactly lining up for the all-access." 

" You can try by being less of an asshole and offering her a smile or just a hey" 

Eddie scoffed, arms still crossed tight against his chest, irritation simmering beneath the surface. “Smiles and pleasantries? Hard pass, Harrington. That’s not my style.” 

“Exactly!" Steve threw his hands up. " You're compicated, and that's okay. But it would be a start.." 

Eddie's lip curled, but something in his eyes softened, a flicker of contemplation breaking through the bravado. “A start? You really think a simple smile is going to change the world?” He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed. 

" Yes, for you to get along. You two can keep the banter going but ease on it." 

The air hung heavy between them, almost vibrating with the unresolved tension. Eddie’s fingers drummed against the counter, his posture shifting from defensive to something contemplative. 

“Fine,” he said finally, voice laced with reluctant acceptance. “Maybe I will try it out." 

" Thank you, Munson" Steve smiles. 

Eddie rolled his eyes but an unwilling smirk danced at the corners of his lips. “Don’t thank me just yet, Harrington. I’m not making any promises.” He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. 

" No, for now. But if you do anything, I mean anything to drive that girl away.." 

Steve leaned in, fixing Eddie with a steely gaze. “You’ll wish you had never been born, Munson. She’s not just some girl to mess around with.”

" Looks like your into her, huh Harrington?" 

Eddie’s smirk turned mischievous, eyes dancing with playful intrigue. “Oh, now that I’m curious. Are you crushing on our lil' waitress here?” He chuckled, leaning in on the counter.

" No, she's like a sister. I've very protective of my co workers, and friends." 

Eddie arched an eyebrow, the wearied smirk still hovering. “Protective? That sounds an awful lot like you’re trying to keep her on a leash.”

“Not a leash, Munson. Just accountability,” Steve replied, " she's still getting around and learning. I'm looking out for her" Steve nods. 

Eddie chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that echoed through the diner. “Accountability? Nice way of saying ‘I’m her babysitter.’ What are you going to do, put a tracking device on her?” 

“Actually, she can do what she wants. But I have her back, as her boss, as her friend and like a brother.." 

Eddie's smirk deepened, a playfulness dancing in his eyes. “Oh, the classic friend zone. A noble title, Harrington. Next thing you know, you might be fighting off her future boyfriends with that brotherly love" 

" The only one I'll fight is you if you harm her in anyway" 

Eddie leaned back, feigning a look of mock offense, hands raised in surrender. “Harrington, I’m hurt! How could you ever think I’d harm a delicate flower like Y/N?” 

" I know you, all the rockstar nonsense in your head and all the I'm lonley but I want a body next to me is your vibe.." 

Eddie's feigned innocence melted away, replaced by a smirk that tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You really think I’m just some poor lost soul out looking for a flesh-and-blood substitute? Please. I have standards." 

" Fucking girls and owning a record store, right.." 

Eddie shrugged, that familiar cocky grin reclaiming its spot across his face. “What can I say? The two go hand in hand, Harrington. A guy’s gotta have hobbies.” 

“Right, because you’ve got it" Steve nods, " Just be careful." 

Eddie threw a casual wave over his shoulder. “Yeah, yeah. Just keep the water cooler gossip to yourself, okay? I’ve got a reputation to maintain.” 

“Right, and we both know it’s impressive.” Steve rolled his eyes. " Don't you have a job to get back to, Munson?" 

Eddie arched a brow, pausing as if considering the question. The smirk on his lips faltered slightly, then reasserted itself. “Oh, you have no idea how much I enjoy slinging vinyl in a room full of teenage rebels." 

" You might want to get back, in case you have a line. You know those rebels waiting"

Eddie glanced around the diner, his expression shifting to one of mock contemplation. “You’re right. I wouldn’t want to keep my adoring fans waiting,” he joked, quirking an eyebrows.

" Have a good night, Munson" Steve says as he walks back into the kitchen. 

Eddie leaned against the counter, a smirk curling his lips. “Always a pleasure, Harrington. Next time, I expect a stiff drink as payment for my witty banter.”

Steve kneels down before you, " Thank you, Steve.." you mumble, sending him a smile. 

“Anytime,” he replied, straightening up and crossing his arms. “Just don’t let Eddie get to you. He’s all bark, no bite—mostly.” 

" But who am I going out with? What was that about?" 

Steve shrugged, an amused glint in his eyes. “Just stirring the pot a bit. There’s definitely something brewing between you and Eddie; it's like watching a poorly written sitcom," he laughed.

" What if I actually went on one, would his grandpa ass notice?" 

Steve chuckled, a glimmer of mischief lighting his eyes. “Oh, I can guarantee he’d notice. His old heart would probably skip a beat as he plotted your downfall.” 

" Not funny" you groaned, " but, I do have someone in mind" you grinned. 

Steve’s eyes lit up, a smirk creeping onto his face. “Oh, do tell! Who’s the lucky candidate vying for your attention while you’re trapped in the Munson tornado?” 

You leaned back against the counter, arms crossed, " His name is Jake and he's a regualr here. You know the one that sits in the corner with the jean jacket and works at the mechnics down the street?" 

Steve’s eyebrows shot up, his interest clearly piqued. “Oh, Jake? The one with the motorcycle? He’s definitely got that brooding bad-boy vibe going on. I can see why you’d be curious.”

“Curious? He’s got that whole ‘mysterious stranger’ thing going for him,” you admitted, feeling a heat rise in your cheeks at the thought. 

Steve leaned closer, an eager grin spreading across his face. “Oh, your going to go for it. Oh man, Eddie is in for a surprise.." 

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “It’s not like I’m doing this to get a rise out of him,” you insisted, though a part of you found the notion wildly entertaining. 

" Are you? You want his attention..." 

“Maybe just a little,” you admitted, crossing your arms defiantly. “But it’s not like I’m planning to walk into his life all ‘look at me, Eddie! I’m going out with some cool guy now!’”

Steve chuckles, " He should be here when you ask Jake out." 

You laughed, rubbing your temples as the thought spun through your mind. “As if it isn’t humiliating enough trying to work up the courage to ask him. I don’t need Eddie eavesdropping, making snide comments.” 

“No the look on Eddie's face when he hears you actually do it. He doesn't really think it's something you'd do." 

The thought of Eddie's reaction made you laugh, a lightness breaking through the tension that had woven itself through your day. “Exactly! I can almost picture it—those dark brows furrowing, jaw clenched like I'd just declared war on vinyl record being broken." 

" When should this happen?" you asked. 

Steve leaned back against the counter, tilting his head as if deep in thought. “I’d say make it happen soon. Maybe tonight? While Eddie’s busy pretending he’s too cool for school?” 

" He's going to come back?" 

“Probably, knowing him,” Steve replied with a smirk. “He always manages to find an excuse to show up, like he’s drawn to you or something.”

" I mean he was looking for me earlier.." 

"Exactly! Maybe he can’t resist the temptation to see what mischief you’re up to,” Steve said, the glint of amusement in his eyes. “It’s almost like romantic tension, right under our noses.”

“Romantic tension?” you snickered. 

" Just looking at you two go at it, makes me miss having someone" Steve states.

“Aw, you poor thing,” you teased, your lips curling into a smirk. “Are you feeling lonely, Harrington? Need a shoulder to cry on?” 

Steve rolled his eyes, but an amused grin crept onto his face.

" You know what I mean, you goof" 

" Come on, we have customers to serve to. The diner is anout to get busy" You straightened up, the light banter fading, the bustling world of the diner settling back into focus around you. The sounds of sizzling pans and laughter filled the air, the smell of fries wafting through the kitchen.

“Alright, alright, getting back to work" Steve helps you up. As you stepped back into the rhythm of the diner, the familiar sounds wrapped around you like a cozy blanket. The hustle of orders being called, the clinking of silverware against plates, and the low hum of conversations provided a comfortable backdrop. 

You couldn't wait till tonight. 

[allastoredeer]

Hello, I just read the new chapter of "Damage Control" and it was a really fun read! I usually don't comment on the fics I read because my English isn't good, but as someone who's just starting to explore what the radioapple dynamic has to offer, I found this fic to be a god-send and it feels wrong to just not congratulate you.

Your characterization of all the characters in Hazbin Hotel and the world building for your radioapple series is so heckin' amazing I have no words for it. You show so much understanding of the hellaverse that even the smallest details, like that news segment with Katie Killjoy in the first episode, feel so on point. To me, it doesn't feel much different between reading your fics and watching any episode of the show.

I also wanted to ask if you were planning on involving the Sins at some point in the story. It can be fun to see the Sins gathered together to discuss why the short king, the same one who has been crying for his wife for seven long years, is suddenly involved with one of the Pride Ring's most dangerous Overlords. I can clearly hear Asmodeus say something like: “If I had a nickel for every time a royal gets involved with a sinner/hellborn (cofcofstolascofcof), I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice.”

I really hope you never stop writing. You have become my favorite writer in this fandom. I hope you have a great day :D

HELLO!!! AHHH thank you so much (;´༎ຶД༎ຶ`) Reading this sdjfnslfnljfn I can't tell you how much it warmed my heart. It watered my crops. Cleared my skin. Paid off my debts.

Seriously, when I got this is it just - it means a lot to hear. I'm so happy you're enjoying my fics! I'm overjoyed you like the characterization, and I'm so, so happy to have received this. It really does mean the whole world to me (to a lot of writers) to get feedback like this, so thank you <3

I don't know if I'll include any of the Sin's in my radioapple series, but I do have a handful of ideas and scenarios I want to draw/write out involving the Sin's, Lucifer, and them meeting Lucifer's new boyfriend/partner, Alastor ^.^ I love thinking about them all coming together--maybe Lucifer hosts some big, grand, once-in-a-millennia event in the Pride ring, and all the Sin's and Royal Hell families are invited to attend--and they all meet Alastor there. Ozzie and Queen Bee can introduce their partners too, and it'd just be so much fun.

I also need Ozzie to visit the porn studios, because of course, and absolutely murdering Valentino for how he treats/abuses his sex-workers.

This whole ask just...made everything better. Thank you very much. I definitely intend to keep writing, it's such a fun hobby and I derive a lot of enjoyment from it (hopefully one day I'll publish a book 🤞) .

Also, you're English is very good! Very clear and easy to read!

[drink-tang-gang]

I posted 244 times in 2022

90 posts created (37%)

154 posts reblogged (63%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@light-koe-pinsky

@drink-tang-gang

@potatoes-tomatoes

@nebelihood

@zara2148

I tagged 216 of my posts in 2022

Only 11% of my posts had no tags

#baffy - 69 posts

#you sittin there yakkin (talk tag) - 48 posts

#isn’t that lovely? (ask tag) - 46 posts

#looney tunes - 44 posts

#daffy duck - 39 posts

#bugs bunny - 38 posts

#online shopping to fill a void (analysis) - 10 posts

#zany fam - 6 posts

#✍️ scenery! where’s the scenery? ✍️ - 6 posts

#animaniacs - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 102 characters

#the animal characters 👩‍⚖️👩‍⚖️👩‍⚖️ should exhibit animalisms 👩‍⚖️👩‍⚖️👩‍⚖️ i said what i said!!!!

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

If I had a nickel for every time someone commissioned me to draw LT KH, I’d have two nickels. which isn’t a lot but it’s fun that it’s happened twice. 💜🦆🐇🧡

620 notes - Posted November 22, 2022

#4

I think irl and in canon ppl are baffled by what Bugs sees in Daffy, as if Daffy’s Mr. Wrong.

But…. It’s kinda switched once you think about it??

Yes, Daffy’s flaws tend to outshine his better qualities, but his friendliness and cheerfulness is overlooked. Like, he’s best friends with one of the most temperamental yet patient everyman there is! Daffy’s selfish, but he knows how to be part of a team. In both the meta and literal sense, he has the unparalleled ability to slips into various roles to accommodate a dynamic, and still be true to himself (Duck Twacy, Duck Dogers, Porky’s Husband friend or enemy, Danny Boy) His affectionate gestures are quite sincere compared to the rest of the tune cast. (and again, as a rule of thumb any sincerity is offset by a gag, so take that with a grain of salt) Bugs on the other hand, operates in a way that teamwork or camaraderie is out of the picture. Without trying, he dominates. He’s unreachable in ways that make it hard to be friendly with him, or engage in conversation without him (somehow) talking down to an audience. Have you noticed he has that air about him?? Even with his peers, he’s always on a pedestal. And Bugs has never been cast as anyone but himself… he’s inflexible.

Bugs can be at once, affectionate and manipulative. He’s very hard to read, and his few positive relationships make it unclear when he’s being honest or not. That’s not to say Bugs can’t be kind, generous or polite, I think compared to Daffy (and most tunes) he exhibits better etiquette. He’s more charming by design. Daffy, for better or worse, has no filter for his motivations or deeper emotions. He’s supposed to be relatable in that sense.

So what does Daffy see in Bugs?? Longtime WB producer and director Tony Cervone has stated multiple times that Bugs finds Daffy entertaining, his unpredictability fascinates him. (and further cements the insinuation that team ups have been initiated by Bugs, i.e, he pursues)

So, I think for Daffy, ironically, it’s complicated. It seems what draws him to Bugs, are also what he despises him for. Ok, the elephant in the room: Bugs models the qualities Daffy lacks. Stardom, adulation, effortless appeal, knowing what to say and when (tact is something Daffy desperately needs). It’s very easy to look up to Bugs, and as I said a couple posts ago, he once and (kinda??) still does. But, Daffy also has the hidden ability to being people to his level, and after spending enough time around Bugs I think he recognizes he’s not as untouchable as he (and his audience) makes himself out to be. Bugs is the type of person who masks imperfection well. Fortunately, Daffy’s drawn to mystery (in canon and in his roles in shorts), so I can see him quietly trying to investigate the parts of Bugs that never reaches public eyes, like a case study. So, is this a positive or negative draw?? it depends on Bugs’ attitude and Daffy’s mood. I guess it can be said that the fascination is mutual, Bugs is entertained by Daffy and Bugs gets under Daffy’s skin.

And of course, we CAN’T ignore the surface level of Bugs’ appeal to Daffy. Bugs’ generosity gives Daffy many opportunities to exercise his materialism and lavish lifestyle. He gets free dinners, Bugs covers all their vacations, and (a big plus for Daffy) he doesn’t mind relinquishing treasures and fortune when they come across it. Don’t call Daffy a gold digger don’t call Daffy a gold digger don’t

So yeah, I went off on a tangent but I hope I cleared up the misconception that Daffy’s Mr. Wrong, both of them—Bugs even more so— are the ‘odd’ choice.

This clear up doesn’t help paint their relationship in a healthy light. There’s ulterior motives and mutual selfishness, but I believe there’s never a fundamental misunderstanding of the other. If they were both more introspective, they’d find to their horror no one understands them the way they do each other. For two stars with excruciatingly large egos, that’s probably the best and worst quality of their weird relationship, ‘being known’, haha.

697 notes - Posted January 19, 2022

#3

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876 notes - Posted January 20, 2022

#2

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1,088 notes - Posted January 18, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

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2,731 notes - Posted January 16, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[ojiro-s-hellish-site]

Me and My Older Bro love Kitsu No Yaiba so could you or someone y'know [(@fsawt) or (@lius-extreme-ennui)] draw matching Tumblr pfps for my and my bro, thanks~

If I had a nickel for every time someone asked if @fsawt or @lius-extreme-ennui could do something for them by using our blog, I would have like 4 so far which isn't a lot but it is a trend.

Basically, I don't know if they could do it but you could ask them (not being sarcastic)

[sailorkamino]

dating steven/marc/jake headcannons

relationships: steven grant x gn!reader, marc spector x gn!reader, jake lockley x gn!reader

warnings: very brief mentions of ptsd

translations: príncipe/princesa- prince/princess, cariño- dear, muñeca- doll, mi vida- my life

a/n: i make marvel playlists on spotify if you're interested <3 steven, marc, jake

steven grant

• his favorite pet names for you: love, darling, pet, babe

• so we all know steven is a big cinnamon roll

• but he won't hesitate to stand up for you

• "oi, don't talk to them like that. learn some bloody manners, yeah?"

• he has a very sassy/petty side

• he doesn't like violence but will throw a punch if he has to (although marc of jake usually fronts when he gets too mad)

• so affectionate and clingy in the best way

• won't let u feel insecure for 1 second because his compliments are so sincere

• instead of calling you 'hot' he calls you ~divine~ or ~breathtaking~

• but he doesn't just compliment your looks

• he constantly praises your intelligence and talents

• reading to you whenever he finds something interesting

• home dates that consist of puzzles, legos, drawing/coloring, and board games

• (you hit jake when he compares the flat to a daycare center)

• he may not be as confident as his alters but he's the most romantic

• will sing you to sleep if you ask nicely but he’s shy about it

• just imagine him crooning 50s/60s love songs to you, i can’t-

• probably has separation anxiety

• slow dancing in his flat

marc spector

• his favorite pet names for you: baby, sweetheart, angel, sugar

• prefers actions/gestures over words

• a bit of a commitment-phobe at first because he's afraid of getting hurt

• but once he realizes you're not walking out on them, he falls for you hard

• doesn't get jealous super easily cuz he trusts you

• but is very protective

• if someone is making you uncomfortable or is being creepy he will not hesitate, bitch

• won't let you walk or take the bus alone at night

• marc: i think i should teach you some self defense

• you: i know self defense

• marc: oh really? show me

• you: (unexpectedly kicks him in the dick)

• marc: (on the ground, struggling to breathe) that was good baby

• distances himself or acts angry when he's upset

• he's not great at communication/opening up but he's working on it

• even when's mad he doesn't raise his voice at you (he hates yelling cuz of his mother)

• storms off when you fight so he doesn't say something he'll regret

• always apologizes w/ gifts or a homemade dinner

• needs alone time every once in a while

• but makes sure to text you so you don't worry

• low key loves action/sci-fi movies as much as steven but won't admit it

jake lockley

• his favorite pet names for you: príncipe/princesa, cariño, muñeca, mi vida

• like marc, he has deep rooted trust issues

• that's why he prefers actions over words

• thinks everything you do is super attractive

• you: (doing taxes)

• jake: you're so fucking sexy

• overprotective part 2

• jake: okay let's try self defense again, but no real kicking, okay? this is just practice

• you: ok!

• jake: alright, so what if i'm attacking you and i use my hand to cover your mouth?

• you: (chomp)

• jake: WHAT THE FUCK? DID YOU JUST BITE ME?

• like steven he prefers stay at home dates just so he doesn't have to share you with anyone

• very charming but also has a temper w/ anyone that's not you

• if you had a nickel for every time you forced this man to apologize to a stranger

• random guy: (accidentally brushes against your ass on the bus)

• jake: (rapid fire spanish threats)

• spoiler alert- he gets jealous the easiest

[chimielie]

hello lia! sora here :) so sorry for dropping off the face of the earth for a while, things were a little tough. not sure if by drabble requests you meant something like this, but i'm currently working on a longfic centered around kuroo (and someone else!) on ao3 and i wonder if you might write something for him if you're in the mood... maybe something with the line "why can't you see that i like you?" ofc no pressure, and hope you have a good week! take care!! + hopefully this staves off hinge LOL

object impermanence

word count: 1.2k

cw: mild angst with a happy ending, possibly a confusing timeline, reader is an art student

a/n: oh my GOD that’s so exciting eeee can’t wait to read it!!! tysm and i hope times get easier for u :(( sending my love. also sorry this is so late i could Not figure out a plot but i’m actually quite happy with what i spit out (it’s 2 am this opinion is liable to change with proper rest)

It’s in a café, a pretentious, dimly-lit place with oil paintings on the walls and a back stair with a balcony for smoking that things unravel. You’re careful, or you try to be, but—well. The heart wants what it wants, and yours is very willful.

Kuroo is shoved into the corner next to you, with the crushed-velvet pillows you were so afraid to spill coffee on. There had been three of you earlier, you and your art history TA and him, and since the café was a literal sardine box you had found yourself trying to balance minimizing body contact and acting like he had the plague. Your TA had had to leave in a rush, and you’d been secretly a little glad, especially when Kuroo didn’t request that you take her former seat across from him.

You remembered him the first time you met, folding himself into your tiny apartment and looking sheepish when you had looked away from the dingy window above the sink you’d been sketching and asked who he was and why he was in your house. It had turned out that he was your roommate’s boyfriend, had been for about two months, and were they ready yet?

They weren’t, so you invited him to sit on the other chair at the table and wait. You hadn’t expected him to talk to you. You hadn’t expected him to be nice.

When you blurted you have a really striking face, I’d love to draw it during a lull in the conversation where you’d had no other option than to focus on the arrangement of features some people (bad roommates) would call handsome, you hadn’t expected him to ask would you really?

You were a bad roommate, though they didn’t know it, because you hadn’t kept in touch with them after moving out but you called Kuroo at least an hour every day before bed.

And you were a bad friend—to Kuroo, not your ex-roommate, because you’re pretty sure you had loved him from the first moment he’d asked after the perspective of your little window sketch.

“Your hair,” he says, and has to twist his whole torso around to get a good look. He catches a piece of it in between his thumb and forefinger, twiddles it back and forth and peers at it like it’s a specimen in a lab. “You changed it.”

“Hardly,” you say. “I just got a trim.”

“It’s different this time,” he says. “Isn’t it?” You purse your lips and blow across the top of your super-fancy tiny coffee cup, a futile exercise since you already drank half of it.

“I went to someplace new, I guess,” you say, and he lets out a whoop that makes you laugh and forget the rest of your words.

“I knew it,” he’s so smug. “I always know.”

“Yeah,” you bat at him so he drops your hair and it springs back, you can feel it in your scalp. “Who even notices things like that?”

“Me? When it’s you.”

“Oh, stop it.” You think. “What am I allergic to?”

“Peach skins and nickel,” he says immediately. “And when you were little you broke out in hives when you ate a pomegranate but you liked it so much you kept eating it anyway and eventually the reaction went away.”

“Your memory is insane,” you sip your coffee, staring at the rapidly diminishing amount. You can’t afford another one, not on your budget as an art student. Ugh.

“No,” he reiterates. “Only when it’s you.”

It started (really started) after your roommate had broken up with him, when you’d come home in the early morning and found him sitting outside your door, brown eyes red-rimmed and holding a box of his things like it weighed a thousand pounds. Let me get you some water, you’d said, and I’d ask you to come in, but. Ah. Sorry. Do you want my breakfast bowl for tomorrow? You had tried to be kind, even though it was hard. You were tired and you didn’t know what had happened and you still had to live with his ex without them hating you.

A few months had passed—you were no vulture, and had no way to reach out anyway. He had bumped into you on vacation in Paris, grabbed you by the shoulders, and looked at you in a way he never had before. It made everyone else on the busy street disappear.

I wanted to talk to you again. Would that be okay? I still have the picture you made me, somewhere.

Your friendship ripened with the seasons.

“I believe you,” you laugh.

“You don’t!” He runs a hand through his hair, jokingly frustrated, you think. And devastatingly attractive. “You always—like—downplay your importance in my life. Like you think I forget about you when I can’t see you. But I think about you all the time.”

“Kuroo, don’t,” you say, but it’s a mistake, because you always address him formally. Your last defense against him finding out all the boundaries you want to cross. It’s a mile between you, and your hip is still touching his.

“Why not?” He spreads his arms, and knocks over your tiny coffee cup. The rest of it spills out over the table, not even enough to drip off, and neither of you notice. “Why can’t you see that I like you?”

“Because you don’t,” you choke, and you hate getting emotional like this, hate that you hate confrontation. “We’re good friends. I’m not gonna be a rebound.”

“You’re not,” he says. “You won’t be.”

“I believe you,” you say again.

“Stop that,” he groans, looks at you again like he did in the street in Paris. “If you don’t want me, that’s fine, I’m just so bad at not wanting you.”

Kuroo is awful, eyes gleaming in the lamplight and hair oil-black and dressed like he’s old money, like he’s trying to impress you.

“Of course I want you,” you say, hot and still not leaning away from him so you can breathe.

“Good,” he looks a little starstruck, and maybe that’s when you start to believe that he can look at you and tell the truth. “Good. I can draw you up a list, later, when you’re not so fucking close to me and so—”

He tilts your chin with his fingers and kisses you and it’s a word between the both of you, a whole language of touch. The overripe peach falls off its branch and bursts on the ground. The coffee soaks into the discarded cloth napkins.

“You make it hard for me to think,” he says when he pulls back, breathless. “But I can write you an essay, ten pages, twelve point font, with citations, of all the ways I love you to prove it. I swear it.”

“A picture is worth a thousand words,” you say, and take his hand when you kiss him again. And it’s not careful like some of your first kisses have been. And your heart sings.

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Wooed

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader Rating: T Warnings: Cursing; Fluff Notes: I watched a supercut of Marcus Pike’s scenes and uh... Yeah. I’m in love? also i’ve never written for this man before so i’m sorry if this is awful Summary: You hadn’t been on a date since you’d started working for the bureau; truth be told, you’d been nursing a crush on Marcus for the last few months. 

When you told him, he seemed… Horrified. You couldn’t believe you were even having this discussion, but, hell, when you’re on a stakeout with someone, you run out of other things to talk about (even after you’d grilled him for the details of the band that he used to be in). Frankly, it was a wonder that it had taken you that long to reach relationships - the two of you had been in that car for nearly three hours. You’d known that Marcus had been married and divorced once; you hadn’t known about his most recent relationship, before he’d moved to DC, though. And after he’d spilled his guts, it was only fair that you do the same.

To you, it wasn’t that odd. The relationships that you’d been in had mostly started as friendships, and had grown to more. They weren’t whirlwind romances.

“So?” Marcus had asked, frowning, shaking his head. “So… So what you’re describing wasn’t, like… Part of the package,” You shrugged. “They didn’t even try?” “Try what?” You laughed. “You know, taking you out, buying you flowers, introducing you to their friends--” “I usually knew their friends already.” “Flowers?” “Allergic.” “Taking you out.” “I mean, sometimes, sure. That’s par for the course no matter who you’re dating, right?” Marcus leaned back in the driver’s seat, watching you, and you turned to eye the house that you guys had been watching. There had been no change; no car had pulled up, no one had come outside. “You’re allergic to all flowers?” You rolled your eyes. “I haven’t given every single flower in the world an individual whiff to make sure, but pollen makes me sneeze, yeah.” 

The two of you settled into quiet again; Marcus’ focus returned to the house, but you could tell that his mind was still elsewhere. “Okay, tell me something,” He said after a few minutes. “Hm?” “Your last relationship.” “Mhm?” “Started as a friend and… Became more?” “Mhm.” 

“Once that happened, you guys just, what, flipped a switch?” You considered this for a moment, then shrugged. “Things were the way they had been, just with a...Physical component. Why are you so hung up on this?” You added, turning to look at him. 

“Cause, everyone oughta be… I don’t know… Wooed-- at least once.” Your brows rose. “Wooed?” You repeated, amused. “Yes. Wooed,” Marcus doubled down, nodding. 

“When was the last time you were wooed?” “It’s been a while.” “So you’re overdue and projecting,” You decided, turning back to the house. “I am not--! I am not projecting. Would I mind it? Of course not, but I’ve been wooed before. You’ve never had the experience, and that is a shame.” You rolled your eyes as the two of you settled back into an easy quiet. “... I bet you’d like it.” “Hm?” “Being wooed.” “You realize if I had a nickel for every single time you’ve said ‘wooed’ in the last ten minutes, I’d have twenty cents?” You retorted. If you had just a touch less composure, you were pretty sure you’d combust. Your very attractive, very available, very nice-smelling boss was talking about wooing in close-quarters. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him again; you could hardly stand the wide-eyed puppy-like way he’d blinked at you before when you’d told him that your ex-boyfriends had never been particularly romantic. But Marcus just chuckled despite your prickly tone. The sound was cut off by his cell phone ringing. You glanced down at it before turning back to the house. “Pike,” Marcus answered. You waited, listening for a few moments. “Uh huh… Thanks, Wallace.” You glanced over at Pike as he hung up. “Did they get a hit?” You asked. “Yeah, Wallace and Fernandez are tailing him now, so we’re clear,” Pike said, setting his phone aside and starting the car up. “Sweet,” You sat up, refastening your seatbelt. You and Pike chatted idly as he drove back to your apartment. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” You pushed down a yawn as you undid your seatbelt and reached back to grab your jacket from the backseat. “Yeah… Hey.” You stopped at Marcus’ voice, turning to look at him again. And damnit, there were those wide brown eyes again. “Yes?” You asked. “Are you busy tomorrow night?” “No, why?” “Lemme show you what you’ve been missing.” If it were anyone else, you’d be convinced that he was putting you on, and you’d shrug it off and laugh. But there was something just a little too soft, a little too sincere in the way he spoke. “...Pike, you don’t have to do this because you feel bad about my supposed lack of wooing--” “Well, maybe my reason is a little more selfish than that,” He shrugged a shoulder, a bashful smile tugging at his lips, “Whaddaya say? No pressure, either way.” 

You believed Marcus when he said that there was no pressure; he didn’t seem the type to make your life hell if you turned him down. Thing was, you didn’t want to turn him down. “Alright, Pike,” You nodded, adding, “Woo me,” Before getting out of the car. -- You wound up out of the office and tailing the suspect with Wallace for most of the following day, so you didn’t need to worry about keeping a cool head in the office around Pike. That was a relief-- you couldn’t remember the last time you felt so antsy. You hadn’t been on a date since you’d started working for the bureau; truth be told, you’d been nursing a crush on Marcus for the last few months. 

The man was sweet and incredibly considerate. He seemed to take notice of the little things about you - how you took your coffee, when you’d gotten your hair trimmed, the fact that you preferred french toast to pancakes (which he told you was just weird). Your time chatting during the stakeout had only confirmed the feeling you’d had since meeting the man: you wanted to get to know him better. You and Wallace were able to pick up the suspect and bring him in for questioning. By the time you’d filled out your report, it was nearly time for you to leave for the night. You knocked on the half-open door to Marcus’ office, holding up your report. He waved you inside. “Wallace said everything went fine,” He said. “No complaints. Guy’s in holding for now.” “Good.” Marcus took your report, but instead of looking over it like he typically did, he looked up at you. “You still up for later?” He asked. “Mhm.” “You sure?” “Uh-huh.” “Positive?” “You trying to talk me out of it?” “Nope. Just checking.” “Where are we going?” “Oh, no. It’s a surprise,” Marcus chuckled, “But I’ll pick you up at seven?” “Seven,” You nodded. -- Somehow you’d thought you’d be less nervous the closer it got to seven. You couldn’t imagine where Marcus was taking you, and you had spent way too long worrying that what you were going to wear wasn’t going to be nice enough, or would be too nice. You didn’t want to look like you’d tried too hard, or like you hadn’t tried at all.

You’d wound up in one of your favorite dresses, a quilted black leather jacket, and a pair of booties. Depending on what you saw Marcus wearing when he answered the door, you could either ask him to fasten a necklace you were considering (which would dress the outfit up a little more), or leave it. You jumped a little at the sound of your doorbell. You took a deep breath, walking over to the door and opening it. Marcus was standing outside in a plum button down, with a dark tie and a dark blazer. He was not subtle in looking you over, but you didn’t take much note of that. You were too distracted by the bouquet of flowers in his hands. Your brows rose. “First of all, you look beautiful. Second of all, before you worry about sniffling,” He raised a single finger to stop you, “I did some research. These are low-pollen, least likely to cause reactions to people that are allergic: Sunflowers, lilies, roses,” he pointed to one of each. You took in the sight of them, the delicate petals of the white roses and lilies, and the splashes of yellow from the sunflowers, and you felt an odd warmth in your chest - one that you were certain wasn’t the result of an allergic reaction. You reached out, taking them from Marcus and looking down at them. You hesitated, before screwing your face up, taking in two breaths and going, “Ah-- Ah--!” You met Marcus’ eye, quickly adding, “Kidding,” and giving Martcus a wide smile, “They’re beautiful, thank you.” 

Marcus put his hand on his chest, laughing shakily. “Okay, you-- scared the crap out of me, jeez.” “I couldn’t help myself,” You teased, grinning up at him, “And you look gorgeous, too.” “Thank you. Now come on, joker,” He chuckled, taking a step back. You grabbed your purse from where you’d hung it on the coat hook by the door, following Marcus to his car. You reached for the door handle, but heard, “Ah-ah.” You raised a brow, taking a step back as Marcus held the door open for you. “Thank you,” You said. “Of course,” He winked before shutting the door behind you. -- You held the flowers in your lap the entire ride, idly running your fingers over the petals. You really couldn’t understand what Marcus had been fussing about during the stakeout, but you had to admit, you were already feeling… Slightly wooed. Not that you’d tell Marcus that... ...Not that you needed to tell Marcus that, you were pretty sure he could tell. Especially when he parked the car. You were hesitant to put the flowers in the backseat, and he’d chuckled. “They’ll be here when we get back, sweetheart,” He’d teased, “Promise. Go on-- And don’t you dare reach for that door handle.” “Better move fast, I’m pretty quick on the draw.”

“So I’ve seen.” -- Marcus had picked an upscale American Bistro - somewhere neither of you had been before. You’d been a little worried that all you’d have to talk about was work. And work did come up, sure, but it was hardly the only thing that was discussed. The time that you’d spent together on the stakeout had gotten a lot of the awkward first date getting-to-know-you questions out of the way.

-- You found out that there was more to Marcus’ wooing game than a bouquet of flowers and some dinner. After the two of you ate (and he paid, though you’d heavily protested and insisted on paying “next time”; you’d gotten a smile from him that was wider than the Potomac), you went on a walk. Your hands had brushed together a handful of times before Marcus had caught hold of yours. It had been a loose hold at first, giving you a chance to pull your hand away. You’d tightened your grip on Marcus’ hand, and his smile had widened, gentle and generous. -- “Okay, this technically doesn’t count toward the wooing, since you paid,” Marcus argued as the two of you stepped out of an ice cream shop with cups in hand. “Maybe I’m wooing you a little,” You retorted, bumping Marcus’ hip with your own, “Thought we agreed you were past due, too. How’s the blueberry?” “Here,” Marcus held his spoon out to you. You leaned up, taking the offered treat and humming, leaning away and licking your lips. “Good?” “Tasty.” “How’s the cinnamon?” You held your spoon up to Marcus, smiling as he took his time taking a taste. He hummed. “I like blueberry better,” He said honestly. “Figures. Weirdos that prefer pancakes sure do have odd opinions.” “Alright, you’re cute, but you will not get away with insulting pancakes, sweetheart.” “Just saying, I’ve never met a pancake that I’ve liked.” “We should fix that.” “You’re just out to fix every single wrong in my life, huh?” “If you’ll let me.” “I’ve got a wobbly coffee table, you gonna fix that next?” “I’ve got a newspaper in my car that’s a couple of days old, I’m sure we could balance it out.” --

He walked you to your door, too. Dating wasn’t new to you, and what Marcus was doing may’ve been a bunch of… Seemingly little things, but you could feel the difference. “So?” Marcus asked as the two of you neared your front door. You looked up from your bouquet (you were still stunned it hadn’t made you sneeze yet) and raised a brow. “So?” You returned, stopping on your doorstep. “Was I right?” He raised a brow. “...You were not wrong. Wooing is severely underrated… And you’re freaky good at it, dude, I mean-- You should be teaching a course.” Marcus laughed, head ducking bashfully. You smiled, biting your lip a little. “I am glad you enjoyed it. And I appreciated the fact that it wasn’t one-sided,” He peered down at you from under his lashes, stepping a little closer, “Though there is… Typically one more component to wooing.” “Oh? Something you managed to forget or something we just didn’t get to?” 

 “Just didn’t get to,” Marcus backed you up against your door frame, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks. “And what exactly would that--” You started to tease. You didn’t get to finish asking, which was fine - you kind of already knew the answer, had kinda gotten the hint already, but it kinda didn’t matter. Marcus had been generous all night - with his time, his touches, his smiles, his winks. He was just as generous with kisses. It felt like just a whisper at first - a caress, barely. Your breath caught in your throat, eyes falling closed as Marcus tipped his head to the side, brushing his lips more firmly against yours. You leaned up, chasing the touch, and heard yourself sigh as his lips pressed to yours. You raised a hand from his bouquet, sliding it around the back of his neck. You melted a little as you felt Marcus hum against your lips. You opened your eyes as Marcus leaned away. You licked your lips, tipping your head back against the door frame as Marcus looked down at you with dark, hazy eyes. “Would you, um… Would you like to come inside?” You offered. “Was my wooing that effective, or is this still about your coffee table?” Marcus asked, sliding his hands down your shoulders. “Well, you did leave that old newspaper in the car.” “Oh, I can go grab it,” Marcus offered, taking a step back. “Get back here!” You laughed, gripping him by the collar and drawing him back in for another kiss. 

[wickedpact]

Crim pls do a J/N fic rec post at some point in the future I trust you more than I trust myself looking rouge through AO3

im kinda eh abt the concept of fic recs myself just bc the whole 'Different Strokes For Different Folks' thing (idk how many times someone i liked in a fandom made a fic rec list and i ended up not liking anything they posted). plus i have weirdly specific tastes and i.. .. honestly havent read a ton of joenicky fic! (i have a FAT to-read list) but ive been asked this a couple times now so i will slap together a couple joenicky fics i like (not comprehensive, i only spent like 15 minutes making this. also not in any particular order.)

Kiss Each Other Clean by moodlighting

i like this whole fic, but the last 6 or so paragraphs in particular SEND ME TO SPACE, i love cuddling. also [joe voice] nickel neekee

what you seek is seeking you by bankrobbery

i actually recced this one once before. idk its cute i just Like It. (also nicky pretending not to know english bc a customer is pissing him off is Very Funny and i love it)

with every inch of my heart by smilebackwards

i like this one a lot, i think nickys pov should Always be this tender. i dont like miscommunication trope much, (esp with joenicky) but i do like this fic-- the miscommunication in question is far-fetched but its joenicky so of course it is. just enjoy the Angst™

i love michelangelo seeing nicky all dirty and bloody after a fight and being like 'DAMN this bitch is fine' (same). (AND the fact that nicky only agrees to travel with him in the name of wasting the pope's money lmao). the fact that joe and nicky broke up But They Still Snuggle. nile knowing like 2 things about joe and nicky's breakup & pretty much immediately taking nicky's side. joe looking at the creation of adam and bein like 'EH'.

nicky carrying around his little joe drawing? nicky carrying around a spare toothbrush for booker? nicky telling little children stories about a princess locked in a coffin under the sea? ('perhaps someday, if an iron coffin is caught in a net or washed up onto the shore, they’ll remember the princess, a victim and not a monster' EXCUSE ME)

(also 'I have drawn you a thousand times since we parted. I sculpted your likeness, just so that I could pretend to cup your cheek. You are so much warmer than marble, hayati.' R O M A N C E)

Pas Un Ange by inlovewithnight

there are a lot of fics i love in a way thats like 'this fic is fun but it doesnt feel like something that would happen in the Actual Canon' (which is fine!) but this one Does feel like it could happen in The Actual Canon which is cool

this fic also has probably my favorite depiction of nicky's relationship with god/religion in any fic ive read ('[nicky's] peace had come only after walking away from faith as a competition of intensity in favor of faith as a steady compass that he followed like the beat of his heart in his chest.'). i love the whole Drama played out by the background characters and how they all have their own ideas and motivations & nicky is just kind of resigned to being caught in the middle of it.

(also love how near the beginning joe's like 'the Right thing to do in the situation would be stay at this river and help these people.... ... ....... ... .... ... anyways see ya guys later gotta go find nicky'.)

also joe chatting up a pig and the five minutes later chatting up some goats was so cute. & nicky trying to tell the baby's mother how to save it!!!! </3 AND THEY ARGUE ABOUT CHARITY on the way home (not before joe injects a comment abt nickys ass into regular conversation bc Romance™) its a bit of a sad fic tho, that poor baby 🥺

Intercession by PrincessDesire

can i interest you in some Swamp Man Nicky in this trying time?

someone recced this fic to me and i dont remember who. but note that the major character death tag is not, in fact, for a major character but for a background one. neither joe or nicky perma!die in this. also normally i dont like fics where joe or nicky are bi bc Thats Not Canon Babey but i do like this one, i love joe's relationship with Grace and how nicky's perception of that relationship gets flipped on its head halfway thru the fic. i also love joe's Weariness Of Immortality, like when joe talks about how 'youthful' nicky makes him feel. his pov just kind of Feels like an old man and i like it

theres a smut scene in this fic which im personally not big on smut scenes but theres this bit where joe tries to figure out condoms and its very cute. also 'You have many kinds of magic, Nicky. All your spells have worked.' ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°).

also i just like how WHIPPED joe is from like the first 3 seconds he sees nicky. theres one bit where nicky's like 'ill come visit you!' and joe's like 'when🥺' and nicky's like 'as soon as you like!' and joes like 'now?????🥺🥺🥺 literally come home with me???' incredible.

also the Magic System was cool. i also love how nicky just Accidentally made himself immortal. what a man. also i like this line 'it would never occur to [nicky] to attend any service that wasn’t going to have a direct outcome. Grace takes comfort from it, so maybe that’s the only outcome needed.' idk its so sweet

edit: also i cant believe i forgot the iconic line 'Yusuf is a man of two minds, one large and underutilized, the other small and underutilized.' absolutely iconic & relatable

[iliumheightnights]

Tony Stark Fluff ABC’s (Male Reader)

Tony Stark x Male Reader ...

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?) - Tony has TWO things he likes. Your looks and your brains. He loves a man that is smart while also being eye candy. Which is exactly what he thinks of you.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?) - Tony doesn’t want a family. At least that’s what he says before he gets his husband, Peter, Harley, etc. Now no one can touch his family otherwise someone is going to get hurt.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?) - Tony cuddles like a koala. He snuggles his entire body into you, his face pushed into your chest. “Mmm, warm and comfy.”

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?) -  Go big or go home. Tony is going to spoil you with so many big and fancy dates. Only the best for you! However sometimes he does like to give you the nice simple dates with food he made terribly with candles.

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…)) - “You are my entire universe. I don’t know how I could do anything without you.”

“Because you’re you Tony. You can do so much.”

 F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?) - Tony knew he was in love the moment he walked off the plane after his whole ordeal and saw you waiting for him, face full of worry. He thought of you lots during his time in the cave but it wasn’t until right there he realized it. He loved you.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?) - Tony surprisingly is very gentle. While people see him on tv and newspapers, they may think he’s rather cold and distant. Or they see him as just a playboy, but with you....he’s a whole other person. He’s so soft and makes sure you’re always alright, which is ironic coming from him.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?) - I see Tony as liking holding hands, but I can see him holding his pinky with yours. It might have started out as a joke but then he realized he loved it a lot so it stuck around that made him comfortable.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?) - He saw you at the party of course. You had attended with some of your friends. He thought you were one of the most gorgeous men he had even laid his eyes on. He of course was trying to get you in bed for a one night stand but after you turned him down, he couldn’t help but wonder…why did it hurt that you turned him down? He decided he was going to not keep trying to get you in bed to find out...he was going to take you on a date.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous?) - Oh you just KNOW Tony is a jealous man. It’s not that he thinks you’re his, but when it comes to other men flirting with you...that’s when you’re his. Especially when he sees Austin Hammer starting to flirt with you, Tony immediately slides in and wraps his arms around you before kissing your cheek. “Ah hammer I see you’ve met my boyfriend. Where’s yours at? Still ignoring your calls I’m guessing?” Tony said with a smile.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?) - Tony can go back and forth. He’s either kissing with fiery passion like how he would during his parties or with so much love and tender like if he let go he’d lose you forever. It was for sure Tony who initiated the first kiss.

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?) -  Not Tony. Tony was not a person that could deal with personal feelings. Sure maybe he KNOWS he loves you but for some reason he just couldn’t get himself to actually yell you. That meant it was up to you to say it for and when you did Tony was quick to say it back, almost like he needed confirmation that you loved him too.

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?) - Tony’s favorite memory would probably be his first date with you. The way you smiled at the food that was delivered to you. The way you laughed at some of his jokes he considered stupid. How at the end of the night when he asked you for another date and you said yes with your signature smile. THAT was his favorite memory that he keeps with him.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?) - Yes. Tony thinks money is no object when it comes to you. Remember that giant bunny? Yeah imagine gifts like that and even fancier gifts. Sometimes you have to remind him that you don’t need all of the gifts...then he buys you double that.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?) - Tony thinks of you when he sees the color Navy Blue. It was the color of the lighting in the room where he first saw you, and it reminds him of that night every time.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?) - He calls you: Dearest, Lover, Future Mr.Stark, Mr.Stark, light of my life, etc. He keeps coming up with them too.

Q = Quaint (What is their favourite non-modern thing?) - Tony? Being Quaint? It’s hard to imagine but it does happen! Tony rather loves when you read to him when he’s laying down using your lap as a pillow.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?) - Like you had to ask. He’s in his lab working on things, however that doesn’t mean you’re alone. No, you’re also there with him helping him out or just keeping him company. He makes sure you know he’s not trying to ignore you.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?) - He has to get his creativity out. He’ll be in the lab making something or he will draw blueprints. But that’s just the mechanic side, the non mechanic side also loves to just hold you. Sometimes taking a nap with you is enough to make him better.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?) - NOT avengers talk. No talk of iron man or avengers, he doesn’t want that in his home. He’ll ask about how you’re doing or will tell you about how Pepper is taking good care of the company, but he will do everything in his power NOT to talk about work at home.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?) - Music. He blasts his music so loud in his lab. It’s one of his ways to relax because he just loses himself in it. He absolutely loves when you start getting into the same music with him and especially loves it when you surprise it with VIP tickets to one of his favorite bands.

 “You know I could have bought these right?”

“Yep, but I wanted to do something special for you finally.”

“I love you so much.”

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?) - His intelligence. Tony likes to show off just how smart he is and put people in their place. Even you can’t deny, it’s pretty hot.

W = Wedding (When, how, where do they propose?) - Tony proposes to you during a vacation to Hawaii. It’s about two years after you started dating and he decides it’s time. He wanted to propose a lot earlier, but he didn’t want to seem desperate.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?) -  Demons by Imagine Dragons. Tony doesn’t know why, but every time he hears that song. He just gets so relaxed.

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?) - Oh yes he does. “M/n, We’ve been dating for a long time and I couldn’t imagine a better man to spend the rest of my life with. Will you do me the honor of becoming the other Mr.Stark?”

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?) - Honestly? A rat or a ferret. I can see Tony being a rodent person.

[derpyslurpy-da-derp-master]

I posted 3,721 times in 2021

64 posts created (2%)

3657 posts reblogged (98%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 57.1 posts.

I added 2,226 tags in 2021

#rwby volume 8 spoilers - 388 posts

#rwby fanart - 313 posts

#funny video - 284 posts

#rwby funny - 216 posts

#shitpost - 194 posts

#im fucking cackling - 192 posts

#rwby shitpost - 169 posts

#tiktok - 168 posts

#rwby whiterose - 155 posts

#rwby thoughts - 147 posts

Longest Tag: 132 characters

#a drawing of sans undertale sitting upside down on the couch watching tv declaring 'i have done absolutely nothing productive today'

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Ask: What direction do you see ruby and weiss's relationship taking after volume 9 depending on what happens in volume 9?

God I hope they head in the romantic direction they've been heading for seven years (volume seven is an outlier and will not be counted in the final tally) because according to recollections of how far Monty planned we don't got much charted territory left, besides, if these two don't make some progress when Ruby is at her lowest and needs Weiss, by Jove I'll eat my hat!

43 notes • Posted 2021-07-19 15:52:42 GMT

#4

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55 notes • Posted 2021-03-31 23:01:11 GMT

#3

if i had a nickel for every time a member of team rwby picked up the weapon of their fallen friend with tears in their eyes to defend a redhead who ends up ultimately sacrificing themselves for the greater good anyways i’d have two nickles which isn’t a lot but its weird that it happened twice right

64 notes • Posted 2021-04-09 17:34:02 GMT

#2

Anon Ask: I mean Nuts and Dolts may be gone but it still had moments actually interpretable as romance unlike Whiterose. The last two seasons of no development plus the VAs directly saying they don't see Whiterose happen canonically, did an irreparable damage to the likelyhood of the ship being a thing. I don't know what else has to be said to convince those few stubborn fans that Whiterose, while being a cute fanon concept, is probably never going to go beyond fanfiction, and baiting themselves will only result in more disappointment...i mean, it's kind of time to move on, and i say that as a former Whiterose fan.

Nuts and Dolts may be dead but Whiterose never even lived if you ask me personally...

oh so we're doing this now

we're doing this now okay let me pull up a chair-

If you sincerely think that Whiterose doesn't have any chance, and I don't mean to be rude here, you might not have been paying attention. Because these two are loud. They are absurdly loud in how in love they are and Volume 7 was a fluke. One dry season does not cancel out literal years of content! And you think that Nuts and Dolts had moments that felt romantic, and yeah they definitely had moments like that and it was very cute, but they had plenty of moments that were just as romantically inclined as Weiss and Ruby, albeit a lot fewer because Penny was, (is?) well, dead. There is a mountain of content I could post here but in the interest of not making this super long because I’m pretty busy rn with projects and this is cutting into my Tumblr time enough as it is...

(insert TedTalk here, link below)

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167 notes • Posted 2021-06-23 22:58:13 GMT

#1

Anon Ask: I don't mean this as a challenge in bad faith, but i am curious to see if you can bring something more to the discussion. As someone who doesn't see anything romantic or implied in ruby's and weiss' partnership, i am kind of curious. What are the canon big moments that are 100% undeniably romantic in your opinion, and that would otherwise be considered q-baiting? Canon show only (not extra source material which is not made directly by crwby). I often see the same bunch of users discuss what they think makes WR canon, but the only explainations that are provided are interpretations, more external stuff like comments from the VAs or a meme made by Monty, or just one-line scenes (like Weiss calling Ruby's name first in v6), which, quite frankly, are not objetive or uniquely romantic explainations.

So, taking out literally everything that isn't just plain canon RWBY moments. From Volumes 1 to 8, which of their moments would you consider "undeniably romantic"? If there are any yet in your opinion.

*cautiously looks over shoulder* hoo boy hope the toxic N&D folks and that one RG shipper have vacated the premises and aren’t lying in wait because I don’t want to do deal with that shit again but uhhhh here goes?

Okay, let me preface this by saying I’m gay myself, I have fallen in love with my best friend (at the times) twice with both going nowhere because i have the backbone of an eclair when it comes to talking to girls and that fact has definitely impacted how I see them over the years because hoooooo boy do I know what ‘I’m in love with my best friend and she means the world and more to me but also I’m absolutely terrified to act on what I’m feeling send help’ feels and looks like, I will also preface this with I know that any romantic interaction between girls can easily be misinterpreted as close friendship which is frustrating but if these things happened between two guys or a guy and gal, it would be 100% interpreted as romantic, so just keep in mind that their genders don’t impact my interpretation at all, while anyone else could interpret this as gals being pals. Also I’m skipping over moments here and there in the interest of not making this longer then it already is, fellow WR shippers I know I skip some moments but let it be known I didn’t forget them.

*deep breath* 

(insert TedTalk here)

See the full post

195 notes • Posted 2021-07-20 05:43:19 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[towerofgodscreamblogwink]

reading 1-2 s3 but i almost call wangan jahad, evan continues to win everything?? child labor, i stare at bam too much and i spam bam too much, webtoon comment section finally wins it, and we ignore the furries

oh hey ja... oh my god i almost called him jahad oh my god

m-miseng??

well at least one good thing happened to the team

if i had a nickel for every time this chapter has one year timeskip i’d had 2 nickels

which is actually a lot considering it’s just one chap

also oh yeah i’m glad i already knew for a good while khun sleeps for 2 years cause i had the time to cope

*spits out* holy shi

don’t underestimate guide indeed

what

he’s right you know

that guy: kya kho khe khu (no you fucking idiot i’m asking for mcdonald)

evan: oH and it sEEMS LIKE hE WAnts to get his aSS KICKED

that guy: kho khe khu (you fucking idiot)

EVAN: OH YES I HEAR IT, “PLEASE KICK MY ASS”

THAT GUY: YOU’RE DOING THIS ON PURPOSE YOU ASSHAT

that guy: wait

that guy: i mean

that guy: kho khe khu

evan:

evan: no offence you realize you just said death to the innocent

that guy: i mean i can go with that -

i-- evan continues to win everything??

*slaps myself* ya more like for us

evan: ew what no it’s for audience

shibisu: wait how did u know my thoughts

evan: because i’m reading what’s in text box

shibisu needs a moment

“DEATH TO THE USURPERS!!”

evan: er no actually you’re *now* asking for mcdonald

that guy: ...

I fixed

wow

me: no fear

“what if they’re all furries?”

me: one fear

RAHELU??

shit i like her even more

consistent character development

👄👁👄

you look like a demon.

it’s probably unintentional though, so let me give you drawing tip: when drawing someone smile an actual smile - their eyes “also” smile - muscles bit above cheeks move right under eye move, and make the bottom part of the eye go up a bit

otherwise it’s a fake smile and now you can tell if someone is geniuely smiling at you 

however it only means *genuine* emotion behind the smile - *not* the intent. So they could be as well smiling this way at your pain, meaning they geniuely enjoy you sufferin

I’M GLAD THIS IS THE FIRST COMMENT AHAHHAHAHAHAH khunbam supremacy

...

okay but holy fuck he looks handsome

like i saw him already from s3 but like i was never paying much attention cause i wanted to save the impressions for later and didn’t have much occassion to dwell on it 

so holy fuck is he handsome

saying im impressed by siu’s choice in hairstyle is honestly an understatment

no seriously i’ve been staring at his hair for like a minute now

*spits out tea*

imagine having a grown up man in a ponytail saying he’s going to take you with him

that kid: ah shit those fockin artists these days

bam: actually, i’m a sculptor

that kid: what do you sculp?

bam: h o l e s  i n  m y  e n e m i e s 

lady: YES I FOCKIN MIND

ah yes child labor

god bam looks so good now

ARE YOU SHITTING ME HE’S STILL SO PRETTY

AS IF ME SPAMMING KHUN EVERY 2 SECONDS WASN’T ENOUGH

“I mean... I don’t mind you guys being free or whatever...”

i

s t o p

him: louie

me: LOUIS FROM BEASTARS!?!?!?!?!1/!

y’all??? am sorry???????? the posture??? the fuckin ?? body??? ??????? clothes ??? b a g ????

also this is so unfair his hairstyle is also one of my long time favourites

i am going to ignore this.

bam: i mean

bam: *remembers stabbing himself like few times, fact he’s been literally killed as bby and revived, talking to his own self in his head, having how many souls within him, being irregular, eating grass*

bam: not particularly no 

[impala-dreamer]

A Taste of Summer

SPN FanFic

~Sam's left alone with the girl he's just helped saved and he can't seem to stop thinking about kissing her...~

Sam x Y/N, Dean

2,468 Words

Warnings: PG13. Making out. Kissy Kissy. Mild adult themes. It could be on the show.

A/N: This is for @negans-lucille-tblr​​​ ‘s 4k Foreplay Challenge... in which I chose making out. Went a tad over the word limit but I hope you won’t mind, Bee. and I do hope you and everyone enjoys...

My Masterlist ~ Become A Patreon ~ Find My Original Works on Amazon

There’s a clock somewhere in the room and the faint ticking is getting louder with each passing second. As soon as Sam hears it for the first time, he can’t unhear it, and it’s starting to mess with his head.

How long since he’s said anything? Feels like way too long.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

Feels like his heart is starting to beat on the second mark.

Tick. Tick.

Isn’t there supposed to be a tock?

Tick.

He clears his throat and it sounds painfully loud. It rings in his ears; even the sound of his tongue moving in his mouth seems like it’s coming through over a loudspeaker. He has to say something. Has to break the silence.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

“So, uh…”

His tongue dries up instantly but for some reason, his palms feel wet. He rubs them on his jeans, big hands covering most of his own thighs as he wipes away the nervous sweat. He cringes as words fail him, hoping she doesn’t notice.

Next to him, Y/N laughs gently. It’s not a full-blown thing, just a tickle at the end of a breath, something sweet. Sam could lose himself in those tiny little noises; the gentle sighs, the hums, the simple sound of her breathing next to him, so calm, so soft…

Tick. Tick. Tick.

“You OK?”

Y/N’s voice breaks Sam out of his thoughts and the ticking dies down. He’s staring at her suddenly and he can’t remember when he started. He looks away, embarrassment flooding his system. He can feel his cheeks start to burn and his gut does a backflip.

He swallows down as much nervous energy as he can and gives a little half-smile. “Yeah. You?”

She licks her lips and Sam almost dies. She says something about being OK, but his attention is stuck on her lips. The tip of her tongue was so pink and it left such a perfect sheen behind. He can’t help but stare again, wondering what she tastes like.

Tick. Tick. Tick. Tick.

It’s back again and Sam knows he’s gonna go insane if he sits there much longer. Dean was only supposed to be gone for a little while, but it feels like he left days ago.

“Sam?” Y/N’s voice is timid but beautiful and Sam sighs as he stares at her lips move. “Do you think Dean’s OK?”

She’s worried, he can tell. He nods quickly to put her at ease and internally kicks himself for thinking about anything but the case. She was a victim, someone who needed saving and comforting; not some girl he’d picked up at the bar intent on some midnight special.

“I’m sure he’s fine,” Sam says finally. “We do this stuff all the time.”

Y/N laughs again, her face lighting up as she stares right back at him. “All the time? You seem a little nervous for someone who rescues damsels in distress all the time.”

Sam lets out a light laugh. “I mean, not all the time. Well, we do. But not-” He can’t find any more words, losing his train of thought in the tunnel of her beautiful eyes.

“You don’t always take the damsels back to your room and sit with them in silence, you mean.”

She’s teasing him, he can hear it in her tone, and something about the levity in her voice calms him. His shoulders drop with a deep exhale and he smiles.

“Yeah. That.”

Y/N bites her lip as her cheeks turn a darker shade, blushing as his gaze travels her face again. “I must be pretty special then, huh?”

Sam drops his left hand from his thigh to the couch cushion. “Yeah, Y/N. I think you might be.” His voice is deep suddenly and he wonders if she notices how far it’s fallen. He can’t help it; hopes it doesn’t come off as creepy or assuming.

Y/N turns in her seat and kicks a knee up on the cushion between them, leaning against the back of the sofa. She rests her elbow on the top and her head on her knuckles, just calmly watching him. Her knee is so close to his fingers Sam can almost feel the warmth.

“If I had a nickel for every time some handsome hero came to rescue me and called me special…” She pauses for a long moment, teeth digging into the corner of her lip as she makes herself smile. “I’d have like...one whole nickel.”

Something in the way she looks at him recharges his courage and Sam takes a leap, surprising even himself.

“Well, I am glad you’ve never needed rescuing before,” he says, dipping his chin a bit so he can look up at her through thin lashes. “But I highly doubt no one’s called you special before.”

There it is, Sam thought. He made her blush in full and he’s never been more proud of anything in his life. All he can think of is making her smile like that over and over again. It’s so beautiful, the way she tries to hide it, looking away and stifling the tiny giggle that accompanies it. Sam could die happy just looking at that smile.

“I don’t know about that,” she says, trying to regain her composure. “But it sure feels nice hearing it from you.”

Tick. Tick.

Anytime Sam thinks he’s gotten a handle on the moment, she knocks him off his feet with a look or a word. She’s incredible and he’s losing his grip.

Tick.

Her hand falls from her cheek and lands close to his. His heart races, his eyes drifting down to watch, wait, pray that she touches him.

Tick. Tick. Tick.

“Sam?”

Her pinky brushes impossibly soft against the side of his wrist and he sucks in a deep breath.

He looks up and she’s so much closer now, leaning forward over her crooked knee, cheek shyly bent towards her shoulder. She pulls in her bottom lip and bites gently, smiling back at him.

He can’t even speak, she’s so beautiful, so warm and close.

“You gonna sit here all night staring, or you gonna kiss me?”

Time freezes as her question wraps around him like a tight bandage, pulling him back together and forcing him to act.

“May I?” he asks, dumbstruck by her forwardness.

She laughs and starts to say yes, but Sam’s already making his move. His hand looks huge against the side of her face, long fingers stretched out, covering jaw to forehead. She doesn’t flinch, doesn’t pull away, but leans into it like his touch is the thing that she’s been waiting for her entire life. She closes her eyes slowly as he draws near, parts her lips so effortlessly as his breath hits her mouth, lets out a delicious hum when he finally makes contact.

God, it’s like Heaven, Sam thinks. He can’t pull away, doesn’t want to, so he keeps the kiss going, never breaking, just moving his mouth gently against hers.

He can’t even breathe, but he doesn’t care. When she opens her mouth a bit more and her tongue brushes against his bottom lip, he nearly screams for the shocking pleasure of it. It’s like he’s never been kissed before, never felt the heat of another’s breath on his skin, never tasted something so sweet.

And fuck is she sweet. She tastes like cherry lip balm and that lemon-lime soda she’s been drinking all night. It’s like summertime in her mouth and Sam is grateful for the gum he’s had stuffed in the back of his mouth for the last few hours; just a hint of peppermint. It’s amazing.

Y/N moans as his kiss deepens and suddenly her hand is pushing through his hair, fingers curling so desperately in his long locks. His eyes are closed but they roll all the same as she scratches at his scalp.

He’s dizzy all at once, lack of air and all the blood rushing through his system making him swoon. He finally breaks the kiss and sits back just an inch, just enough to breathe and look at her.

She smiles and tugs at his hair, making his eyes glaze over with desire.

“That was some first kiss,” she teases, watching his face dance as his brain tries to cycle through a thousand emotions. Lust, shock, love, anxiety, it’s all there and more, twitching in his brows.

Sam grins easy and pushes forward. First kiss behind him, he’s all fire and touch, running his hands across her shoulders, cradling her head in his big hands as his lips massage hers. His kisses are hungry but slow like he’s drawing out every movement. They don’t have to rush because there’s nothing else in the world more important than those kisses, than his tongue pushing against hers, than their fingers in each others hair.

Sam’s straining against his jeans but he won’t take it any further. If he has to wait forever just kissing her soft lips, he will.

Y/N lets out a moan that nearly kills him; this whispering groan of his name that echoes deep in the back of her throat. He swallows it all down, absorbs her vibrations, her smell, her taste. She’s part of him now, even if just for a little while.

Suddenly her hand is curled around the nape of his neck and she’s moving, sliding down onto the cushions and pulling him to her. She spreads out, legs wrapping around his waist as he lays on top of her. He’s careful not to crush her, using his strong arms to brace himself but fuck, he wants to fall so badly. She bucks her hips and hits him just right and the world spins around in his skull like a merry-go-round out of control.

He lets his mouth wander, unsure of who’s in control. He can feel her fingers pulsing on his neck, guiding or allowing, he’s not sure. His lips cover her jaw, trail slowly down to her ear. He sucks at her pulse and Y/N arches her breasts up against him, hissing in a tight breath that makes Sam’s mouth water.

Her feet hook around the backs of his knees and she pulls him down. His elbows buckle and he’s down, pressing her into the couch, full weight trapping her there. She moans and runs a hand down his back, reaching inside his collar to feel his flesh. She scratches him hard and he growls against her collarbone, taking a quick bite before sitting up on his knees to reclaim her lips.

She looks at him with darkened eyes. Lips, swollen and wet, denting by teeth marks and puffy.

Sam stares down at her, panting as the edges of his vision blur. He’s never met a succubus before, but he’s pretty sure this is what it would feel like, and he doesn’t care one bit. Let him suck the soul from his body, he’ll die happily on that couch.

She bats her eyes and cracks a sexy smile. “Do you...um…” She pauses, afraid to say the words, but Sam gets the hint as she reaches down between them and tugs on his belt.

“Shit. Yeah.” He looks behind him at the duffle bag on the bed, kicking himself for not keeping a rubber in his pocket. “Gimmie a sec.”

The worst pain he’s ever felt is moving away from her. His body is stuck to hers like a magnet, but he has to go. She kisses him sweetly, lips landing at the corner of his mouth, and he finally manages to push away.

It’s cold without her and his dick is aching. She watches as he rushes to the bed and rummages through the bag.

“I know I’ve got one,” he promises, sneaking a look at her.

She’s squirming on the couch, hands pawing at her own breasts, teeth sunken into her lip, waiting.

His bag is empty so he grabs up Dean’s and digs in. “Don’t go anywhere,” he jokes, head practically inside Dean’s duffle.

“Oh, I’m not.” Her voice is so alluring, so sensual that Sam nearly loses control of his hands. He fumbles through the bag and finds a loose Trojan at the bottom, gold wrapper calling to him in the dark.

“Got it!”

In his excitement, Sam barely notices the echo, but Y/N’s sudden movement calls his attention to the other side of the room. She’s sat up, quickly adjusting her messy hair, and staring at Dean who has just burst through the front door.

“What?” Sam stumbles, palming the condom.

“I said, I got it!” Dean smiles proudly and lets the door slam behind him. “Winchester one, ghoul zero.” He plops down on the chair facing the couch and stretches his long legs out, crossing them at the ankles.

Sam swallows hard and begs his erection to fade. His mouth is dry suddenly and he’s equal parts embarrassed and furious.

Tick. Tick.

“That’s amazing, Dean,” Y/N says, her voice wavering a bit. “Thank you so much.”

Dean smiles smugly and folds his hands behind his head, relaxing. He’s covered in mud and god only knows what else, but he’s happy, satisfied with a job well done. “You’re very welcome.”

Tick. Tick. Tick.

The silence is back and Sam wants to wring his brother’s neck. Y/N, too, seems out of sorts and Dean is not blind to the tension.

“I’m sorry,” he says bluntly, “did I interrupt something?”

It’s a quick “no” in tandem from Y/N and Sam and Dean nods his head knowingly.

“Ah…”

Tick. Tick. Tick.

He sucks his teeth and then drops his hands, slapping his thighs as he stands up. “Whelp, allow me to leave you guys alone.” He’s at the door before either can stop him, but he can’t help himself from throwing a jab at his baby brother. “Call me when you’re finished,” he grins. “Then we can celebrate two jobs well done.”

The door takes the hit as Sam throws a shoe at Dean.

“I’m really sorry about him.” His cheeks are bright pink and he’s pretty sure he’s lost any chance he had with Y/N now. He looks up bashfully and she’s still all smiles, standing up from the couch.

“Why? You don’t think you can get the job done?” she asks, fingers hooking around the hem of her shirt.

Sam swallows hard and the fire returns to his eyes. “Oh, I can get it done.”

“Good.” She smiles and pulls her shirt away, tossing it at him. “Because I need to thank my hero properly.”

It’s funny, but as Sam lays her down on the far bed, their bodies warm against each other, he can’t hear that stupid clock anymore.

2020 Forever Tags:

@67-chevy-baby​ @akshi8278​ @akhuna01 @amanda-teaches @because-imma-lady-assface @blondemarvelchick @blushingjared @broiderie @burningcoffeetimetravel @classic-rock-angel @coopercharlie16 @cosicas-cuquis @covered-byroses @crashdevlin @deansgirl215 @deans-baby-momma @deangirl7695 @deanwanddamons  @deanwinchesterswitch @defenderrosetyler @desiree---1986  @dolphincliffs @dontshootmespence @edge-oftonight @emoryhemsworth @eternal-elir @fandom-princess-forevermore @feelmyroarrrr @flamencodiva @focusonspn @herbologystudent252 @heycasbutt @hornyandsmol @ilovefanfic86 @i-love-superhero @ilsawasanacrobat @imjustadrummer @ivvitm1109 @joseyrw @justagirlinafandomworld @justcallmeasmodeus @katymacsupernatural @laxe-from-outer-space @leatherandfrackles @lessons-of-red @letsby @letsdisneythings @lonewolf471 @maddiepants @mariekoukie6661 @meganwinchester1999 @missjenniferb @mrswhozeewhatsis @mummybear  @onethirstyunicorn @our-jensen-ackles-love @screechingartisancashbailiff @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @starboycas @stephaniecanfield96us @stoneyggirl @squirrelnotsam @thebookisbtr @thehardcoveraddict @thevelvetseries @veevm @winchestersister55 @wendibird @winecatsandpizza @winterpoohbear

[mrs-hatake]

hey cutie😊 congrats on your 600 followers, I'm really happy for you! Since haikyuu seems to be the most needing fandom at the moment, may I ask for either Iwaizumi's or Akaashi's (whichever you feel more inspired/comfortable to write!) fluff alphabet? post time skip of course! it would be the best birthday present 💕

happy birthday angel 😍❤️

Fluff Alphabet ft Akaashi 

A - ATTRACTIVE (WHAT THEY FIND ATTRACTIVE)

Keiji is attracted to beautiful eyes. Sometimes, when he sees someone with a nice pair or eyes, he would secretly wish that he knew how to draw just to have that image of those eyes with him forever. of course, that’s not to say that Keiji didn’t try to draw them. He did....but he failed epically.

B - BABY (DO THEY WANT A FAMILY?)

Yes. It may not seem like it but Keiji is a family man and he would love to have a big family. Just...not right now. He’s focusing in school and he wants a good job to be financially stable. Maybe when he achieves both of those things, he will consider starting a family. But for now, it’s just a dream.

C - CUDDLE (HOW THEY CUDDLE)

Keiji isn’t into cuddles really. But, when he had a long day of practice and having to deal with Bokuto’s antics, he seeks out your embrace with eager arms. It’s nothing too intimate; just his head on your lap while you’re lying on your back, gliding your fingers soothingly down his lap. He has his best naps when he’s in that position, lying down and mind free from future games.

D - DATES (WHAT DATES WITH THEM ARE LIKE)

Dates with Keiji are simple yet memorable. Every Saturday is your ice cream parlor date. Hours would go by without either of you noticing and when the sun sets and the moon shyly peeks its way through, Keiji would continue your date by taking you out to dinner. Nothing too fancy. Just a place where you can eat good food and enjoy your time for as long as you can.

E - EVERYTHING (YOU ARE MY…)

“You are my motivation in life.”

F - FEELINGS (WHEN THEY REALIZE THAT THEY LOVE YOU)

It happened during your senior year of high school when you’ve been absent from school due to a strong case of the flu. No one was allowed to visit you and Keiji didn’t notice his frustrations of not being able to see you until halfway through the week when nearly ripped his hair out at how chaotic his team was being without you, their manager, to put them in place. He was annoyed and easily irritated and when Tatsuki pointed out that he was only feeling that way because you weren’t in school with them after Bokuto complained about Keiji’s attitude, did he realize that he missed you and wished that you were there to help out. Keiji would deny this but Tatsuki and Bokuto would both confirm to you that he was blushing as red as a tomato when Tatsuki brought up your absence and Keiji’s frustrations.

G - GENTLE (ARE THEY GENTLE?)

Keiji is rough on the court but he can be so so gentle when he’s with you. 

H - HAND/HOLD (HOW DO THEY HOLD YOU? DO THEY HOLD HANDS?)

He isn’t into pda much but he doesn’t mind holding hands. Actually, he’s the one who is constantly seeking for your hand to hold; interlocking his fingers with yours and giving it a quick squeeze of gratitude. 

I - IMPRESSION (FIRST IMPRESSION)

Keiji didn’t think much of you when he first met you during his third year of high school. He only registered you as their new manager. But, when he noticed your quick wit and how smoothly handled Bokuto’s many depressive episodes, he began to take notice of you. He knew his team tried to help him as much as they could but you were the only one who actually managed to get through Bokuto.

Honestly, like many, you instantly found Keiji as hot. His mysterious aura was attractive too, making you want to get closer to him. It wasn’t until Fukurōdani had won against Shinzen and seeing the boys running towards Keiji, who was smiling so bright that it nearly blinded you, did you start developing romantic attractions towards him.

J - JOKER (DO THEY PULL PRANKS?)

Nope. He’s too mature for that. Though, he’ll throw in a quick pun that really isn’t that funny but you laugh anyways cause you love him.

K - KISSES (HOW THEY KISS)

Long, soft, slow and passionate kisses. The one that makes you drunk from the taste of his lips, addicted to his soft grunts and craving his hands to touch you all over.

L - LITTLE THINGS (WHAT LITTLE THINGS THEY LOVE)

Keiji loves it when you listen to him. Could be about his rants about practice, his frustrations losing a game, his professors being annoying, anything. Just you sitting there and helping him as much as you can brings a great deal of comfort to Keiji.

You love that Keiji initiates things; hugs, kisses, etc. It always surprises you because he just isn’t into pda but when the two of you are alone, Keiji is just so touchy and you can’t help but think of how damn cute he is.

M - MEMORY (FAVOURITE MEMORY TOGETHER)

His favorite memory was in high school senior year when you gathered up all of the members of the team and surprised him with a birthday party. He just felt so emotional seeing all of his friends and his girlfriend enjoying a good day right before graduation and everyone else is off to different universities. His lock screen is a picture of him with his face covered in whip cream while everyone was laughing in background, discolored happy birthday banner hung on the wall.

N - NICKEL (DO THEY SPOIL?)

Only on occasions like birthdays, anniversaries, etc.

O - ORANGE (WHAT COLOR REMINDS THEM OF YOU)

Keiji reminds you of ocean blue.

You remind Keiji of bright yellow, as bright as the sun.

P - PETNAMES (WHAT PETNAMES THEY USE)

Keiji doesn’t use petnames but he loves it when you call him baby, angel, cutie pie and honey.

Q - QUESTIONS ( WHAT ARE THE QUESTIONS THEY’RE ALWAYS ASKING?)

Keiji always asks himself “Does she know how much I love her?”

R - REMEMBER (THEIR FAVOURITE MEMORY OF EACH OTHER)

Keiji’s favorite memory was your first date. The both of you were just so shy and nervous that Keiji had accidentally spilled the drink he ordered all over your new dress and when he tried to help you dry off, you painfully bumped into each other’s heads. The date ended with laughs and giggles and you’re still dating in college so all’s good.

Your favorite memory was when 3rd year Fukurōdani students had won their last match before graduating from high school. Seeing Keiji with unshed tears and a look of disbelief on his face was something you were sure you won’t ever forget.

S - SAD ( HOW THEY CHEER THEMSELVES/OTHERS UP)

Keiji takes you to cat cafes when he notices that you’re sad.

Harry Potter movie marathon is always the best way to cheer Keiji up and that’s why he loves you. Well, one of the many reasons.

T - TALKING ( WHAT THEY LOVE TO TALK ABOUT)

College Keiji and high school Keiji are two completely different people. The latter being quiet and only speaking when deemed appropriate while the former talks for hours about the things he’s most passionate about. It’s a new side of Keiji and you love it as much as silent Keiji.

U - UNIVERSE ( A METAPHOR)

“Everything amazing about the universe is inside of you, and the two are inseparable.” — Carl Sagan

V - VERY ( THOUGHTS ABOUT EACH OTHER)

“Thank you for being with me.”

W - WHY ( REASONS WHY THEY LOVE YOU)

Keiji loves you because you love him. Plain and simple. 

X - XYLOPHONE (WHAT’S THEIR SONG?)

Say So - Doja Cat

Y - YOU (WHAT YOU ARE TO THEM)

You’re his partner and best friend.

Z - ZEBRA ( WHAT PET THEY WANT TO HAVE)

three cats and a dog. 

[teacherintransition]

The Ugly American...who? Me?

My wife an I have become avid travelers and the closing of countries due to Covid-19 has hit us in the heart...

The time at home has given me chance to read about travel and given me pause to re-evaluate my behavior while abroad in the past and for the future...

The Ugly American, a novel written in the late 1950’s and which was a The New York Times Best Seller, was written by political scientist Eugene Burdick and writer and former U.S. Navy captain William Lederer. The book took a much needed look at the behavior of Americans traveling abroad; from the rugged backpacker hiking India to the field State Department personnel actually presenting the “official face” of our country in the international community. Prior to World War 1, most international travel by Americans was done by the wealthy elite among society. The “common” man through the tribulations of war, was given the opportunity to experience European culture and a yearning for seeing the world was fostered. If fact, there was a saying after WWI, “how you gonna keep Johnny on the farm after he’s seen Paree (Paris)?” The travel bug... wanderlust was born in the hearts of the middle class and gave rise to this phenomenon in film and in books written by Jack Kerouac, Cheryl Strayed, Ernest Hemingway up to contemporary writers like Anthony Bourdain, Andrew Sean Greer and Elizabeth Gilbert. Even Rick Steves who has become a knowledgeable source of traveling information with his travel guide series, has presented an informative open minded view of travel abroad.

All of these written treasures of traveling the world unveils to readers the magic that is to be found by stepping out your front door. The Ugly American presents a scathing look at how the “American” while overseas, displays an arrogant , intolerant, dismissive view of cultures far older and in many cases, more refined than ours. Burdick and Lederer’s book is set within the intrigues of international diplomacy and how that uniquely American view creates failure in the establishment of effective foreign policy. The authors listed and many more besides, instruct their readers to varying degrees to take more note of the intricate nuances a traveler should pay attention to and to show respect and admiration for the centuries of history and culture that exists all around us and that is not American. There is a common thread throughout all their works about what is missed when we stand outside and dismiss the uniqueness of every nation we might visit, instead of immersing oneself and appreciating it in a culture not our own. The “ugly American” has become a mythos of how Americans respond critically to anything that is not “MURICAN!”

Several other factors besides short sighted American foreign policy have contributed to the yoke placed on Americans traveling: cutthroat business practices while dealing with European, Asian and African countries; missionaries whose demonstrate a dismissive view of spiritual practices that have existed for millennia and, quite honestly, the behavior of tourists while abroad. Many experienced travelers draw a clear distinction between the tourist and the traveler. Kathryn Walsh differentiates the two in the following way:

Tourists

It's usually easy for locals to spot a tourist among them. A tourist may carry a camera, guidebook and map at all times and wear the same clothing he'd wear at home. Tourists tend to stay in their comfort zones a bit; they may speak only English instead of trying to learn phrases in the local language; stick to major cities instead of venturing to smaller towns or off-the-beaten-path locales; and stay in areas where the amenities are similar to what they have at home.

Travelers

Generally speaking, someone who considers himself a traveler will try to immerse himself in the local culture rather than standing out. If you're a traveler, you may try to explore the less-traveled areas and explore locations where tourism doesn't drive the economy. You'll interact with locals. Your goals for a trip will be to learn and experience new things, rather than to take a relaxing break from everyday life. A traveler may consider a trip a journey rather than a vacation.

The traveler presents a deferential, respectful and admiring view of the nations they are visiting and adopt the wise phrase from antiquity: “when in Rome do as the Romans.”

There is nothing wrong with being a tourist, often it is the less expensive approach to travel, unless you become the arrogant American tourist then perhaps you need to reassess. Travel is a big part of my retirement plans and goals, but you know what they say about the best laid plans. Two highly anticipated trips with two years involved in planning were rescheduled due to the Covid-19 pandemic, a disappointment we shared with thousands of tourists and travelers alike; and further postponements may continue to confront us. Perspective is needed in such a situation as being denied travel is far below other struggles this event has presented all of us. That being said, it has been a terrible disappointment down to my bones. We’ve missed much needed fellowship time with great friends, the excitement of seeing new places, the immersion in the culture and history of the locales, and, for me personally, our yearly travels have been my muse and inspiration for so much of my art. It’s akin to being very thirsty and having only a few drops to suffice. Introspection is the course of action when hopefully contemplating the possibility of the trips occurring.

To satiate the urge, we’ve read and watched travel programs in the interim and have evaluated our connection to the Ugly American concept? Are we ...them? In our past travels, have we appeared at all dismissive of the people and practices of the places we’ve visited? My wife and I have always been in awe of our travel destinations, so I feel fairly confident that we have not displayed the aforementioned arrogance of many American travelers. The thought that then arises is how much we have not allowed ourselves to be immersed in the culture; which, in the long run, is a detriment to us more than anyone. Our minds are open and willing to become part of the places we visit, but if we eliminate the brusque nature of so many Americans while overseas, what is the stumbling block that draws such distinctions when traveling? I fully concede that most Americans feel they have little to learn from many places on this planet, more is the pity, and there is much flawed thinking that goes into this mindset; but what fundamental differences exist between the cultures? I came across a very enlightening blog article written by Alain Veilell that was spot on in identifying the differences. Veilell simply observed that we run on different clocks. Not literal clocks but a “clock” obsessed with structure and deadline.... hello Americans! Veilell notes that Europeans start late and end late, while American and many Asian cultures start early and end early. Americans tend to view the un-regimented approach as being akin to laziness. I coached soccer and baseball for many years and many of my Latino players would not be as punctual as my other players. They were as talented and competitive, but their homes weren’t ruled by the seconds on a clock. Dinner started later, lasted longer, the dishes could wait... the priority was the quality of interaction with the people your with... ah, there it is ... sort of.

The average American meal last twenty minutes, while the average meal in Spain, for example, lasts two hours. They certainly don’t eat as much as Americans so why all the extra time? Why should time even be a factor so often? It’s the conversation and fellowship that is the priority not timing. While without question, the structured regimentation is a contributing factor to the American commitment to financial success, it also contributes to hypertension, stress, anxiety, depression and conflict that might be avoided with having an extra glass of wine and talking and not worrying if dinner is on schedule. Taking a little more time, enjoying the moment, letting serendipity reign may not be part and parcel of the Puritan work ethic; but it plays a helluva big part in realizing “La Dolce Vita.” This perception of time throws the rhythm off for many American tourists and makes us the ones to call the front desk complaining that the folks in room 210 are just too loud at 9:30 pm. The local population may just be getting ready to start dinner at that time. Remember, “when in Rome do as the Romans?”

While traveling, often American tourists view differences as a personal affront. “ I have to ask for ice?’ “What, no air conditioner?’ “They call the restroom the toilet?’ “Ugh how vulgar ... and a bidet? You must be kidding?” Truth to tell, Americans also suffer from mischaracterization from travelers from abroad as well. If I had a nickel for ever foreign exchange student who thought that all of Texas was a giant ranch with everyone riding horses and wearing cowboy hats. I think though that visitors to our country more often than not allow themselves to be pleasantly surprised than to have their feathers ruffled. It seems that we allow the “ours is better than yours” mentality to outweigh the magic of the unknown and the different. Every spiritual guiding ethos advocates living in the moment, treasure what is happening right now, greet the unknown with hope not hostility. The ugly American leaves no room for such an upbeat approach. Superiority mentality leave very little to treasure in this magnificent world other than what is yours and that limits learning, excitement, growth and just the pure joy that comes from trekking this world.

Is this assessment of mine a blanket judgement? No, not at all but there is some truth to it and there is something to be learned. As I self analyze, I found that I may harbor some of these traits and it’s good that I have time to stand back and look ...to learn. The worthy goal of being an affirming member of this global community is a purpose that I seek; and the rewards are far beyond just being intrinsic but rewards the cultures you visit with an admiration and respect they deserve. As these thoughts have been put down, it reignites the hopes that the planned journeys come to realization with the anticipation of more to follow. No more ugly Americans, British, Japanese or what have you, just eager travelers wanting to see and experience all that this world has to offer. Happy travels my friends.

Burdick, Eugene Lederer, William; The Ugly American ; Norton Publications; 1958

Veilel, Alain; “Why don’t Europeans Travel to Cancun?;” Quora; October 8, 2020

Walsh, Kathryn. "Differences Between a Tourist and a Traveller" traveltips.usatoday.com, https://traveltips.usatoday.com/differences-between-tourist-traveller-103756.html. 5 April 2021.

Photo from https://www.myheritage.com/

Photo from https://openlibrary.org/authors/OL13640A/Ernest_Hemingway