Ugh, James Is The Worse Type Of "friend".

The cutest thing 😭

Ok so I saw this (https://vm.tiktok.com/ZMF5bYbN5/) on TikTok and I can just imagine this is how reader tells spencer she’s expecting 😍 the whole team would already know, and they are playing scrabble on the jet, and everyone’s watching his reaction but he’s just not getting it, until she pulls out the test and then the penny drops and ahhhhhh I NEED this 🙈 please can you write something along these lines? You’re the best Reid writer ever!! Xxx

link, i love this, and thank you, and thinking about his reaction is just mwah

You know Spencer's in need of a pick-me-up when you get on the jet. It's been a long case, and he's been unknowingly doing his job as a soon-to-be-dad by holding up your hair while you were sick in the mornings.

So you break out the scrabble board, earning smiles from everyone as they know what you're about to do. He goes to get you tea first, and you use the opportunity to take the letters you need, putting some on his slider so he doesn't get suspicious.

"I bet you cheated." He accuses you, scowling at you playfully.

"Promise I didn't." You claim, holding your hands up in defense.

"I hope you're putting down a word like cat then." He scoffs, nudging your feet under the table.

That is definitely not the phrase you plan on putting down. Secretively, you put all your letters on the board and bank on Spencer's focus being on his own letters, no doubt trying to think up the most complicated word while you arrange the letters.

There's no doubt the only times you win are when he lets you.

You eagerly wait for him to read your word, heart thumping with anticipation for his reaction. He's been talking about having a baby for years and you know he's going to be elated.

It's an edge-of-your-seat event for the rest of the jet, as well, all excited for what his reaction's going to be. JJ's got her phone out, subtly filming it for you to keep the treasured memory, and so Penelope can see it when you get home.

"Y/n." He shakes his head, looking at you like your an idiot. But you're doing the same thing. For someone so intelligent, he is not getting it. "One, you can't have ten letters, and two, you can only have one word. Pregnant wouldn't even be okay. With those letters, you can have pigment for 16 before any double scores, but you can't cheat. You have to redraw."

Behind him, you can see Morgan, JJ, Rossi, and Emily laughing. There's even a smirk on Hotch's lips.

You bite down a smile. "Spence, read it out loud." You try.

"I'm pregnant." He repeats what's written on the board. Morgan and Emily can't contain their giggles, highly amused by your husband's obliviousness. "You still can't have it. I'll let you get away with knowing my letters, but that's worth at least 20 points."

"You're a genius, right?" You question.

He frowns again. "Provably."

"Okay, so what does that mean?" You prompt, trying to help him make the connection.

He's struggling, still completely baffled about why you would need a basic middle school biology lesson. "Being pregnant? When there's an embryo that turns into a fetus growing in someone's uterus."

Even you can't bite down your laughter that time. You realize you're going to have to ditch the original plan of him deciphering the board, and take the test out of your bag.

His eyes widen as he reads the same word as was on the board. Then he looks back up at you, slightly teary-eyed as the connection sticks. "You're pregnant." He says with deep realization.

You nod, still waiting for a reaction that wasn't him stating a fact. He quickly gets out of his seat, buzzing with excitement as he drags you up and wraps his arms so tightly around you that he can pick you up and spin you around.

"I'm an idiot." He shakes his head when he puts you down, holding you tightly in a hug.

"I know." You agree with a laugh, pulling away to kiss him in a rare public display of affection.

When you're done, there's a round of hugs and congratulations from the team, all equally thrilled for you two to be embarking on the next step in your lives together.

Ma'am, why just now I discovered this amazing story?? Everything about it makes me give a silly smile while reading! Hope to see more of your work! You're amazing!!

So I’ve decided to venture into the fanfic world after 20 years of not really writing anything.

Here’s my first attempt, a little Usnavi x Reader story. Hope everyone enjoys.

Omg, I caaaaan't. Eddie is the cutest boy! And Wayne being protective and caring. My heart just melted reading this

My Favorite Person | e.m.

A/N: This author is a sucker for a good slow burn and what could be slower than that which spans a whole freakin decade. I mean, who doesn’t love baby love? Also, the prices of the toys mentioned in this fic are based on actual toy prices from the ‘70s bc I did a ton of unnecessary research for this.

Thank you so much @mxcheese for beta-reading this!! You’re the best!

CW: potentially inaccurate portrayals of children’s conversations, brief mentions of Eddie’s shitty father, two curse words (i think???), heavy idolization of Dolly Parton, the reader’s dad is kind of a jerk to Eddie

Eddie watches you skip joyously around your fourth grade classroom, handing out the invitations for your birthday party this weekend. He’s already made peace with the fact that he isn’t going to get one this time around. Your party’s at your dad’s house this year and, due to his dad’s reputation, he isn’t exactly welcome over there. So, the way he sees it, Eddie stands about as much of a chance of being invited to your party as he does getting a date with Faye Dunaway. Despite his resigned acceptance, he can’t help but feel jealous of your other friends.

Eddie tears his gaze from you and puts his head down on his desk, using his crossed arms as a make-shift pillow. He tries to think about something other than you and your stupid birthday party, conjuring up guesses as to what his dad might serve for dinner tonight and picturing what it might’ve looked like when the mean aunts got flattened by the peach in James and the Giant Peach; the latter causing him to giggle to himself. However, Eddie’s thoughts are soon interrupted when he hears a familiar voice call out his name. Almost immediately after, he feels a tiny finger gently poke his shoulder as the smell of your apple-scented shampoo fills his nostrils.

Eddie lifts his head up out of the dim fortress created by his arms to see you standing next to his desk, smiling at him sweetly. Only then does he notice how your braids have begun to unravel and your jumper has gotten a bit of dirt on it, most likely from the exhaustive play you did at recess. He resists the sudden urge to look down at his own clothes, wondering if they got as dirty as yours did today. Probably dirtier, he thinks.

“Hi, Eddie,” you greet him cheerfully, “you wanna come to my birthday party?” You ask simply, albeit with a slight lisp due to having recently lost one of your front teeth, as you hold out an invitation to him.

“Really?” Eddie asks in disbelief as he hesitantly accepts the invitation from you, half-expecting you to yank it back from him and announce that you were just kidding.

“Yeah, of course! Just don’t get me a present that costs more than ten bucks; my daddy says that’s the only rule,” You explain, causing his eyebrows to furrow.

“Why not?” He asks.

You shrug, “I dunno, something about him not wantin’ other parents to spend all their money on me.”

“Oh, okay,” Eddie doesn’t really get that, but he nods anyway.

“So, you’ll come?” You ask giddily.

“Yeah, if my dad says I can,” He replies, causing you to flash him a grin that’s just about a mile wide, a grin that he couldn’t help but reciprocate.

“Great! I’ll see ya then!” You exclaim blithely as you start skipping back to your desk. He still wears that grin on his face as you go.

In fact, that grin doesn’t leave Eddie’s cherubic, freckled face until later that afternoon, when he comes home to find his uncle sitting at the kitchen table wearing a somber expression and nursing a mug of black coffee, his dad nowhere to be found.

“Uncle Wayne?” Eddie asks as he drops his backpack off by the door.

Wayne sighs, rubbing a hand over his scruff, “Hey, kid.”

“Where’s dad?” Eddie asks curiously.

“Your dad’s in a little bit of trouble right now, so I’m gonna be lookin’ after you for a little while,” Wayne informs him as he offers him a sympathetic smile.

Eddie, however, seems a bit apathetic about the whole situation, simply asking, “For how long?” This is the third time his dad has skipped out on him this month alone, so he’s not really phased by his sudden disappearance.

“I don’t know, pal,” Wayne says truthfully.

Eddie’s brow furrows, “I got invited to a party today. I was gonna ask dad if I could go,” he informs his uncle.

“Yeah? Whose party?” Wayne asks, offering his nephew a happier smile. His smile gets just a bit wider when Eddie tells him that it’s your birthday party. He’s well aware of who you are; you’ve been friends with Eddie for a while now and he can tell you come from a good family. Or, at least, he knows that your mom’s a good lady, she’s offered to take care of Eddie many times when his dad’s gone off to do god knows what without him. Unfortunately, Wayne’s had to take her up on that offer far too many times for his liking, but she’s never minded.

“If you still wanna go, that shouldn’t be a problem, bud. Her mom’s place is only a short walk away after all,” Wayne informs him.

Eddie nervously chews at the collar of his shirt, only stopping temporarily to say, “‘S not at her mom’s. It’s at her dad’s.”

Shit, Wayne thinks.

“Can I still go?” Eddie asks, his rich brown eyes silently pleading to his uncle to say yes.

How could Wayne ever refuse him?

“Yeah, bud, you can go. I’ll take ya,” Wayne tells him and, despite having just learned about his dad ditching him once again, Eddie’s face lights up with a brilliant smile.

“Thank you, Uncle Wayne!” Eddie exclaims as he wraps the man up in a warm, grateful hug.

Wayne chuckles, “So what do you wanna get her, kid?”

The question catches Eddie off guard as he was in the middle of internally celebrating that his uncle said yes.

“What?” Eddie asks after pulling away from his uncle. Wayne gets up from his place at the kitchen table and drops his now empty mug off in the sink before turning to lean against the counter and look at Eddie.

“You got any ideas for what you’re gonna get her for her gift?” Wayne asks.

Eddie begins to panic. In his eight year old mind, this is the end of the world; he finally gets invited to a birthday party and doesn’t even know what to get the birthday girl.

“W-what- What do kids like her even like?” Eddie asks as he begins to nervously wring his hands together.

“What d’ya mean? She’s your friend, kid, surely you’ve gotta know what kind of stuff she likes,” Wayne says as his dry, cracked lips curl up into an amused smile.

“I just- I don’t- She already has so much. I mean, she gets two Christmases, you know? What if I get her something that she already has?” Eddie asks, his face scrunching up adorably as he looks up at his uncle.

Wayne chuckles, “Yeah, I know, bud. You know, you could always ask her what she wants,” Wayne offers as he moves back to the dinner table and slowly lowers himself back into his seat, Eddie mirrors him as he moves to sit in the seat just across from him.

“But then she’ll know exactly what I’m gonna get her. Doesn’t that kinda ruin the surprise?” Eddie asks, causing Wayne to sigh.

“Fair point,” Wayne pauses as he eyes his nephew carefully, “What’s the toy we kept seein’ on tv around christmas time? The one with the doll that drinks and stuff?”

Eddie snorts humorously, “Baby Alive?”

“Yeah, yeah, that one. We could get her that.”

“Too expensive, there’s a ten dollar gift limit,” Eddie sighs.

“Says who?” Wayne laughs in disbelief.

“Her dad,” Eddie grumbles.

“What kind of dad puts a dollar limit on his kid’s birthday presents?” Wayne scoffs. Eddie simply shrugs in response.

“Well,” Wayne trails off before continuing, “does she like to read? We could get her a book.”

“I- I don’t know,” Eddie sighs. He does know, you love to read and you’ve told him that many times before, but his mind draws a blank under pressure.

“I’ll tell you what… How about you do some investigating this week, find out what kinda stuff she wants. Then, when I get paid on Friday, we can go to the toy store and see if we can’t find something that she might like. How’s that sound?” Wayne asks.

“Okay,” Eddie sighs.

“Yeah? Sounds good?”

“Yeah, that sounds good, Uncle Wayne,” Eddie confirms.

“Alrighty then, use those detective skills and report back to me, alright?”

Eddie does just that. For the next four days at school, he pays extra special attention to you. So much so, that you’ve begun to take notice. Sometimes you think you can feel those rich coffee brown eyes on you and every time you catch his gaze, the abrupt flush of his cheeks lets you know that you’re right. At first, you chalk it up to him being excited that he got invited to your party. After all, the two of you didn’t get to celebrate it together last year because you’d gotten your tonsils removed a week before your birthday.

However, when you continue to catch him looking at you later on in the week, you begin to worry. And, given the fact that you’ve yet to fully learn social cues, you decide to confront Eddie on it. On Friday, after school dismissal, you catch him on the bus, sliding into the seat next to him before anyone else can take it. He suddenly looks up at you, his eyes widening slightly in mild shock.

“Hey,” you said somewhat breathlessly as you had to sprint to the bus after nearly getting on the wrong one; you were forgetful like that sometimes.

“Hi,” Eddie replies hesitantly.

“Did I do somethin’ to upset you?” You ask abruptly, catching Eddie off guard.

“W-what d’ya mean?”

“You’ve been lookin’ at me a lot, but not, like, talkin’ to me or anything. Are you mad at me or somethin’?” You ask innocently, your head quizzically cocking to the side a bit as you look at Eddie. In that moment, you remind the young boy of a puppy dog, all curious and cute.

“No! No, I’m not, I swear. I just,” Eddie trails off with a sigh, pulling his shirt collar up to his nose to hide his embarrassed blush before shyly admitting, “I don’t know what to get you for your birthday so I’ve been watching you to see what you like.”

“What I like?”

“Yeah, ya know, what kind stuff you like to do for fun and stuff like that.” He explains, his blush now spreading to the tips of ears as he lets his shirt collar slide off his nose before catching it in his mouth so he can gnaw on it nervously.

You giggle and he finds himself wondering if someone can actually die from embarrassment.

You nudge him gently with your elbow and smile at him sweetly, “Eddie you already know all that stuff!”

“Y-yeah, but I just, I don’t know what you want,” He sighs, “I don’t wanna get you the wrong thing or somethin’ you already have.”

“You could’ve just asked me what I want for my birthday, silly billy.”

“I know, but I didn’t want you to know what I was gonna get you beforehand.” He explains and you giggle some more.

“You really are silly, Eds. I would’ve just given you some general ideas, not told you exactly what to get me! I’m not dumb,” You tease.

“Oh, r-right,” Eddie stutters.

“I s’pose you don’t really need to anymore now that you’ve been spying on me,” You tease him some more.

“Well, I didn’t really come up with much. I mean, at best, I was thinking about getting you a new bookmark,” Eddie admits sheepishly.

“Well,” You trail off, thinking of some options to give him, “I like drawing, so you could get me a coloring book or stuff to color with. I also really, really like playin’ board games, so you could always get me one of those. I already have Candy Land, Boggle, Mouse Trap, and Operation, so don’t get me those games. Or you could get me a new doll, my brother ripped the heads off a few of mine, so I need to get some new ones,” You ramble on about gifts that he could get you for the majority of the bus ride home while Eddie just stares at you with comically wide eyes, desperately trying to follow along.

Finally you inhale a big breath, slightly winded from your incessant talking, and flash him a warm small. “Really, you could get me just about anything and I’d still be your best friend for life, Eddie,” You inform him.

“For life?” Eddie asks, tone laced with uncertainty and disbelief.

“Mhm. Forever and ever, amen,” You reply while doing your best imitation of a pastor on sunday morning; your tone a theatrical combination of pomposity and nobility. Eddie giggles in response.

All too soon, the bus turns onto your street and pulls to a stop near the curb. You let out a dramatic sigh, disappointed that your conversation is, in your opinion, cut short, before flashing Eddie a smile so bright it nearly blinds him. “I’ll see ya tomorrow!” You remind him cheerfully before hopping up from your seat, grabbing your backpack, and rushing off the bus with all the other kids that live on your block.

The scent of apples stays with him until he gets off the bus at his own stop later on. Even then, he swears he can still smell it a little bit. In a way, that smell actually helps him remember what you’d told him; he mulls over the ideas you’d given him as he walks the rest of the short distance to his trailer.

Eddie wouldn’t mind having a best friend for life, especially if it’s you. He remembers that, keeps it in the back of his mind as he coaches his uncle on what to look for at the toy store during the car ride there. Technically, he doesn’t know exactly what he wants to get you yet, so he simply tells Uncle Wayne to keep an eye out for something that fits any of the suggestions you’d given him. At that, Wayne can’t help but feel like he’s in over his head.

When he was a boy, Wayne would gravitate more towards sports, mostly baseball, so all of these modern toys and games were really unfamiliar territory for him. Nonetheless, Wayne tries his best to find something that you might like because he can tell how important this is to Eddie.

They’ve only been perusing through the aisles for a measly fifteen minutes when Eddie spots the gift. An art set chalk full of all the supplies a kid could ever hope for, water colors, a few brushes, a tiny pad of multi-media paper, oil pastels, colored pencils, and even a vast array of markers, all contained in a cardboard case that’s been painted to look like it was made out of a rich, earthy wood. It’s perfect. Art class had always been your favorite in school and you’d even mentioned wanting some colored pencils to him, so it certainly checks all of his boxes. Even better, it’s only seven bucks.

Score.

Eddie’s practically vibrating with excitement as he rides back home with his uncle, hand tightly clutching onto (and crinkling) the roll of treasure map wrapping paper they’d also picked up at the store. You’re gonna love this, he knows you will. He can’t wait for you to open his present tomorrow.

When Eddie gets home that night, he sets in search of the second part of your present; a tiny little elven figurine that came in one of the boxes of mismatched toys, individuals missing from their sets, that Wayne had gotten from a garage sale a few years ago and gifted to him for his birthday. Last summer he’d shown it to you while the two of you were playing on the playground situated at the front of the park, and the sight of your eyes lighting up with wonder as you gazed at the figurine has remained engraved in his memory ever since. It’s one of his favorite toys, but he's willing to part with it so long as he gets to see that gleeful expression of yours again.

The next morning, Eddie wakes up bright and early to start getting ready for your party. He’s practically buzzing with excitement as he quickly wolfs down a short stack of smiley-faced pancakes prepared by the world’s greatest uncle, Wayne, for breakfast.

Said uncle chuckles at his nephew’s giddy excitement as he frantically searches for the perfect outfit to wear to your party, finally landing on the navy sweater that he had worn to picture day this year and his nicest pair of blue jeans. He then makes you a card out of some plain white paper, decorating it with the generic-brand crayons that Santa got him for christmas and taping it shut with the Fred Flinstone sticker he’d gotten at his latest doctor’s appointment. Eddie finishes the card in the nick of time, as not long after he’s put away his crayons, Wayne’s calling his name to let him know that it’s time to go. He grabs your presents and rushes out to Wayne’s car excitedly.

Wayne follows him out, shutting and locking the door behind him, before sliding into the driver’s seat. Eddie tries his luck at sitting in the passenger seat, but Wayne flashes him a disapproving expression and motions for Eddie to sit in the back. The young boy sighs and reluctantly climbs back there before buckingly up. Wayne then turns the key in the ignition and peels out of the makeshift driveway in front of their trailer.

The drive to your house isn’t terribly long, at least not by rural Midwestern standards. Your dad’s place is situated in the outskirts of Hawkins, so Eddie has the absolute pleasure of getting to see all the cows and horses roaming the pastures on the way there. Wayne, however, is sort of desensitized to the wonder of livestock after having lived in Appalachia for most of his childhood.

“Hey, did you know cow farts are bad for the ozone layer?” Eddie asks, offering a random, not fact prompted by the sight of the roaming cattle. Of course, it’s not entirely true, but it’s close enough.

Wayne snorts humorously, “You know, son, can’t say that I did.”

After passing a few more pastures and cornfields, the two finally arrive at your house, only to be met with the sight of a long, narrow, gravel driveway which leads past a dense patch of spruce and pine trees and up to a house with pretty blue siding. Eddie’s never seen your dad’s house before, so he’s pretty shocked at the sight that greets him. While your home certainly isn’t as big or ornate as some of the houses clustered in the local neighborhoods, it’s still pretty nice, and the plot of land it sits on is much bigger than he was expecting. Frankly, Eddie’s a little pissed that you didn’t tell him you lived on a Christmas tree farm. Not to mention, he’s starting to get the impression that you’re filthy stinkin’ rich.

Little does he know, your grandpa bought this once undesirable plot of land for dirt cheap back in the 30s and spent years fixing it up, even building that quaint little house that you call home with his own two hands. Truthfully, the house’s only luxuries are the octagonal above-ground pool your dad installed in the backyard a couple of years ago and the few acres of land that it sits on, though most of it is taken up by the rows of spruces and pines. Other than that, it’s really nothing more than a modest little ranch house, nothing too out of the ordinary for rural Indiana.

However, in Eddie’s eyes, if this is the kind of luxury that carpentry, with a side of tree farming, can get you, then he now knows exactly what he wants to be when he grows up. He even tells Wayne as much while he’s driving up the long driveway to your house, to which the man huffs out a laugh.

“A carpenter, huh?”

“Yeah, like that Jesus guy,” Eddie says nonchalantly to which Wayne lets out a proper laugh.

He’s still laughing as he pulls into the patch of short, sparse grass where the other parents have parked their cars. When Wayne unbuckles his seatbelt and turns the key, taking it out of the ignition and shutting the car off, Eddie’s filled with a mild sense of dread.

“What are you doing?” He asks his uncle as he unbuckles his own seatbelt.

Wayne looks back at him in the reflection of the rear view mirror with an expression of sheer confusion. “I’m gettin’ out the car, what’re you doin’?” Wayne asks teasingly, causing Eddie to sigh.

“Uncle Wayne, please, don’t. I promise, I’ll be fine by myself,” Eddie pleads.

“Nuh uh, I’m coming in, bud, at least for the first few minutes,” Wayne refutes. The man just wants to look out for his nephew. He knows why Eddie’s never been allowed to come over here before, knows how your dad and the rest of the adults in this godforsaken town feeling about all who carry the Munson family name, so, the way Wayne sees it, he’d be an idiot not to be apprehensive about how your dad and the other parents might treat Eddie when he’s not around.

“C’mon,” Eddie groans exasperatedly.

“C’mon,” Wayne mocks him, “I paid for that gift, the least you could do is let me see the look on the birthday girl’s face when she opens it.”

“Fine,” Eddie grumbles.

“‘Sides, having you around all these trees is a hazard, someone’s gotta make sure you don’t try to climb one and break your arm again,” Wayne teases as the two of them hop out of the car, shutting their doors behind themselves.

Eddie flashes him a look of pure annoyance as they begin to walk up towards the house, “That’s not funny.”

Wayne grins, the outer corners of his eyes crinkling with the change in his expression, “It’s a little bit funny.”

Eddie rolls his eyes before walking up the few concrete stairs leading to your tiny front porch. He walks up to the front door and rings the doorbell politely with his free hand, the other one holding your gift, Wayne follows his lead. Your older sister answers the door and, honestly, Eddie and Wayne are both extremely grateful to be met with the sight of a familiar face.

“Well hey there, Sunshine,” Eddie greets her warmly by her nickname; it’s an ironic nickname, one given to her by your mom the minute she hit puberty and morphed into a mass of pure teenage angst.

Despite her perpetual moodiness, she flashes the two of them a warm grin before calling out to you, “Hey, dweeb, Eddie’s here.” She then invites them both to come inside.

Eddie barely makes it two steps past the threshold of the front door when you suddenly emerge, seemingly out of nowhere and adorned in a nice, pink dress that your mom had made for you and a cowgirl hat that, despite being the same color as your dress, is too glitzy to actually match it. Just as suddenly as you appear, you’re abruptly flinging yourself onto him, wrapping him up in a warm, albeit tight, hug. He stumbles back with the sheer force of it, but Wayne reaches out and steadies the two of you before you can go tumbling to the ground.

“You made it!” You cheer excitedly.

“Happy Birthday,” Eddie says as he reciprocates your embrace with the same level of enthusiasm, his face lighting up with a grin that seems to stretch from ear to ear.

“Hi, Uncle Wayne,” You greet his uncle politely while releasing Eddie from your crushing embrace.

You then grab one of the young boy’s hands and begin to pull him into the other room while saying, “C’mon, everyone’s downstairs. My dad decorated our basement to make it look like one of those dance halls you see in the movies, the ones with all the square dancing, and it… looks… amazing!”

You practically drag the poor kid down the stairs as you excitedly ramble on about all the decorations and party games that your dad and his girlfriend set up for your party. Wayne and your sister aren’t far behind, following you downstairs; the sound of children chattering away and country music softly playing in the background fills their ears as they descend down the stairs.

“This party has a theme?” Wayne asks your sister. All the birthday parties that he’s ever been to have been just that, a birthday party; nothing more than a cake and maybe one or two party games just to keep the kids entertained. This party, however, is impressively elaborate; from the detailed decorations to the surprisingly on-theme games, you’ve even given each kid a cowboy hat of their own to wear, though none of them are as ornate as yours.

“Yeah, she’s been begging my dad for a Dolly Parton-themed party for months now, he figured a hoedown-themed one was a good compromise,” She explains, causing Wayne to chuckle. Really, he should’ve expected that; you’ve been obsessed with Dolly ever since you heard Coat of Many Colors on the radio a couple summers ago.

As you and Eddie run off to go join your other friends, your sister leads Wayne over to the side of the basement that the adults have congregated in.

“Dad, this is Wayne, Eddie’s uncle,” She introduces him, “Wayne, this is my dad.” Having fulfilled her greeting obligations, your sister soon ditches the party to go do angsty teenage things with her friends upstairs, abandoning Wayne with your dad and the few other parents that chose to stick around.

Your dad offers him a nod of acknowledgement before asking, “You want a beer?”

Wayne curls one of his eyebrows up and eyes your dad suspiciously, “Is that a trick question?”

Your dad chuckles, “God, no, it’s just the only way I can get through these things,” He says, referencing the hoard of nine and ten year olds gathered in his home.

Your dad then heads over to the cooler sat atop the card table that the other parents are sitting around and fishes out two bottles of beer, one for him and one for Wayne. As he hands Wayne one of the beers, both men settle into a conversation about the latest NASCAR race, prompted by the Richard Petty baseball cap that Wayne’s wearing. It’s awkward at first, given both men’s preconceived notions about each other, but the tension dissipates as the party carries on.

Your dad lets you and your friends bounce from activity to activity for a couple of hours before deciding that it’s time for cake and presents. So, everyone gathers around the long folding table set up in the middle of the room, Eddie sat right by your side, all watching as your dad brings out your homemade birthday cake and begins to light the candles. Once each waxy stick is topped with a delicate flame, everyone begins to sing to you and excitedly wiggle in your seat, too gleeful to contain it. When the celebratory song finally comes to a close, you blow out your candles with the encouragement of all your guests.

Apparently no one’s ever told you how wishes work before, or perhaps you know and simply don’t care, because you immediately turn to Eddie and excitedly inform him, “I wished for a corner piece of cake and to meet Dolly.” Unfortunately, Eddie notices that, in making your wish, you failed to account for the fact that your birthday cake is round, but he still hopes that the other part of your wish will come true.

In the rare, fleeting moment of calm that settles over the party after your dad has distributed a piece of cake to each kid, you slide your seat even closer to Eddie’s before digging into your slice. Eddie flushes at the sudden closeness and tries his best to ignore how nervous it makes him as he begins eating away at his own slice of cake.

“Eddie,” You softly call out to him, getting his attention without alerting your other guests.

“Yeah?” He replies through a mouthful of sugary sweet cake.

“Are you having fun?” You ask him suddenly, your bright eyes drilling holes into the side of his head as they stare at him unwaveringly.

“Y-yeah, I’m having fun,” Eddie replies as he bashfully meets your gaze.

“So you,” you trail off nervously, your fingers dropping your fork down on your plate in favor of picking at your cuticles, “You like hanging out with me?”

Eddie turns slightly in his chair, now facing you and fixing you with a quizzical gaze, “Yeah, you’re my friend,” He reassures you.

“Good,” You practically breathe a sigh of relief, “I think next year I might just invite you to my birthday party,” You confess, whispering your words so that the other kids won’t hear them.

“Why?” Eddie asks.

“Cause I really just wanted to hang out with you today, but that’s kinda hard when all my other friends are here too,” You explain as if it makes perfect sense, which, of course, it does to you.

“Me? Why’d you wanna hang out with me?”

“Because,” You sigh, “We don’t really play together much anymore, not since school started. But we used to hang out all the time last summer.”

Eddie frowns, “Yeah, I know.”

“Why don’t we hang out anymore, Eddie? Did I do something wrong?” You ask softly.

“You didn’t, I promise. I just- You have so many friends, so you don’t really need me,” Eddie reasons, causing your lips to turn down in a frown as well. His gaze falls to his lap as he swallows around the lump in his throat.

“But, Eddie, I like you more than them,” You confess, your tiny hand, with nails painted bubblegum pink, reaching out to grasp his own for the second time today.

Eddie’s head snaps up out of shock, his gaze meeting yours once again, “You do?”

You giggle sweetly, a smile breaking out on your cherubic face, “Of course I do! Eddie, they’re not good friends, not like you are. They all think I’m weird and sometimes they pick on me because of that, but not you, you’re always nice to me. Plus, you read all the coolest books and you’re so good at everything,” You confess.

“I am?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah! Like you’re really good at skipping rocks on the lake and you play guitar, which is so cool! Oh and you always draw the coolest stuff in art class.”

“I do?”

“Yeah, silly billy, you do. Eddie, you’re like the coolest person I know, besides my momma, of course,” You tell him.

While Eddie certainly agrees that your mom is really cool, he’s never really thought of himself as being cool before.

“I’m cool?” He asks doubtfully.

“The coolest,” You reassure him, wearing the cheesiest smile on your face all the while. Eddie can’t help but mirror your gleeful expression; the two of you now grinning at each other, lost in your own little world. The two of you are suddenly pulled out of that private little world when your dad walks over and gently rests a hand on your shoulder.

“Hey, honey, go on and finish up your cake now so you can open your presents,” Your dad says in an odd hybrid of a midwestern accent and a slow, almost southern sort of drawl, the kind of accent you get when you spend your whole life living on a farm in the rural Midwest, the kind that makes it sound like he’s perpetually speaking with a toothpick in his mouth and a couple beers in his system. He squats down beside you to plant a kiss on your cheek.

“Daddy.”

“Yes ma’am?”

“This is my friend Eddie,” You say enthusiastically, gesturing to the boy sitting to your left.

“Yeah, I know, pumpkin. Hurry up and finish that cake, alright?” He says in a tone that’s plenty nice, but still dismissive all the same, your smile falters at the sound of it and Eddie deflates just a little bit too.

Eddie doesn’t know what he did to make your dad hate him so much, but he finds himself wanting to apologize to him anyways. However, your dad walks away, rejoining the adults, before Eddie can even utter a word. Perhaps it’s for the best, though, because, as soon as your dad’s gone, you’re turning back to face Eddie and flashing him another megawatt smile. This smile, however, is a bit more devious than the ones you’d sported earlier on.

“Go on now, honey, finish your cake so I can open my presents,” You jokingly tell him in a near perfect imitation of your dad, one so good that it makes you both giggle.

Nevertheless, the two of you do wolf down your slices of cake fairly quickly, both eager for you to open your presents. After everyone else has finished too, you move to sit at the chair that your dad has positioned by the table that everyone had set their presents on, and all of the other kids circle around you, including Eddie. Then you finally start opening your gifts, beginning with the ones sitting closest to you on the table. You end up opening a few gifts before you finally get around to Eddie’s. They’re nice gifts too. Ellie Wilkinson got you a brand new doll house and Isaac Donaldson got you a chemistry set.

So much for that ten dollar limit, Wayne thinks.

After seeing all the nice gifts that the other kids got you, Eddie’s left feeling a little insecure about what he’d gotten you. However, the pure joy that radiates from your entire being as you rip off the treasure map wrapping paper of his gift, along with the mile wide smile that lights up your features as your gaze rests on the art set he got you, serves as the perfect source of reassurance. Your joy increases tenfold when you spot the wizard figurine that Eddie had snuck in with the art set.

Wayne immediately recognizes that little figurine and fixes his nephew with a look of pure disapproval from across the room. However, Eddie can’t find it in him to feel guilty or ashamed for going behind his uncle’s back, not when you’re smiling so sweetly.

“Who’s it from?” You ask excitedly, your feet tapping against the floor in a speedy, energetic rhythm.

“Read the card, honey,” Your dad tells you as he hands you the card that Eddie made for you this morning. You grab it from him eagerly and open it, reading the words written on the inside of it aloud, “Happy Birthday,“ you read your name as he’s written it on the card, following it with, “Love, Eddie Munson.”

In a flash of pink, you’re hopping up from your chair excitedly and bounding over to the curly-haired boy dressed in blue.

“Eddie, you are my favorite person alive right now!” You cheer gleefully as you catapulte over to him with your arms outstretched; once again, nearly knocking him over with the force of your hug.

While that’s not exactly the lifelong best-friendship you’d promised, Eddie thinks being your favorite person for even a moment might be worth losing his favorite action figure.

It's so amazing! It was the best thing I read today!

After Ragnarok I’ve seen so many posts about Odin saying to Loki that he was proud of him.

Well, unpopular opinion, I don’t believe it -the only heartbreaking part of that scene is actually Loki’s reaction that says he still loves Odin, after all.

You know what? I’m furious, and these are the reasons (I apologise for my English, but it is not my mother tongue):

Odin has been decieving Loki from the beginning: he used to say both Thor and Loki were born to be Kings, but he knew well Loki was not meant to sit on Asgard’s throne. A child’s mind is complicated, and we all know that what you learn as a child will scar your adulthood, so whatfor to decieve a child?

Loki has been raised believing all Jotnar are monsters just to find out he is a “monster” himself. Odin, dear, you are a fucking half-Jotun, for Ymir’s sake! And, besides, have you ever thought that, maybe, to tell Loki Jotnar were just wrong rather than hey are “beasts” was better?

I refuse to believe Odin, the ALLFATHER, so mighty and powerful, could do nothing to save Loki when he fell from the Bifrost -and I just can’t respect a father who doesn’t even try to save his son.

“Your birthright was to die”… just to say.

Odin had previously claimed that Loki is not his son. Now that Hela is coming to kick their asses he calls him “son” just because he needs Loki to defeat her. Ah: Odin is the one who had shaped Hela to be his executioner.

Please… if you don’t want to call Loki “Laufeyson” call him “Friggason”, but not “Odinson”.

Loved this!

Not gonna lie, I'm in love with Chandler since the first time I watched FRIENDS and it's so sad that out there doesn't seem to exist many fanfics about him.

So, every single fanfic I find is like a gem and this one is one of the best ones that I have read. Loved your writing. Absolutely amazing! 🥰

𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒.

pairings ; chandler bing x female!reader

summary ; chandler goes to monica and rachel's apartment the day after his first date with y/n, only to hear she's on her way over.

warnings ; lots of chandler's pov within third perspective, includes the whole group, fluffy and scared chandler.

word count ; 2.8k

additional notes ; this came to me before a nap two days ago and i needed to write it so bad!

Waking up feeling refreshed was rare for Chandler Bing. Usually, he awoke to the sound of Joey’s snoring in the next room or his alarm clock ringing for work, rubbing his hardly-awake aching eyes and forcing a shirt over his frame to start his day.

Today was much different. Sure, it was a Sunday with no work, but he woke up feeling as happy as ever, a permanent smile upon his face and his heart feeling full while butterflies continue to invade his stomach. Still to dissipate after last night.

Y/n was the cause of this. One of his best friends, part of the group he considers family more-so than the parents he grew up with. One of his favourite people in his life and someone he was falling in love with, greatly.

It was only a few days before that Chandler braved himself enough to tell her, tell her how infatuated he was that it was almost scary to him. He had never felt like this with another person before. And last night Chandler had took her on a date, since she was quick to reply with her returned feelings, to Chandler’s shock.

Chandler remembers how tightly Y/n held his hand despite how clammy his palm must’ve been, or the light-hearted giggles whenever he pulled his collar from how tight it felt while stuttering over another sentence. Or how she smiled against his lips when he kissed her goodnight by her front door.

They were crossing a line, from friendship into something more, and while it was what Chandler wanted, he was still horrendously nervous when it came to it. He didn’t want to mess anything up between both of them and then affect the group.

But the feeling of Y/n’s lips against his proven far too addictive that Chandler was extra willing to try, desperate to feel her kiss again and form what they had into a special bond he hoped would last.

He didn’t have a great track record when it came to relationships, breaking up with each women whenever he got too scared of the commitment, and using any little flaw they had as the reason for bailing. Y/n was different, Chandler already knew her completely. Every flaw and indifference in her life, every quirk and hyper fixation. Each only made Chandler fall in love with her more.

And Chandler knew he would never treat Y/n like he has his previous girlfriends. God forbid he would ever be stupid enough to mess things up with her when she’s the best thing in his life. She makes him feel seen, laughs at all his jokes, helped him quit smoking and makes him never want to go back, loves all the movies he does, and cuddles with him, squished on the one chair after she’s had her heart broken.

No matter how bad Chandler was at comforting someone, unable to find the right words to help support, Y/n always went to him. Out of her six friends, it was always Chandler she went to for comfort. And he never understood it until now, how they were everything to one another.

Glancing at his alarm, Chandler’s eyes nearly pop when realising it’s reaching midday. He was usually an early bird, waking up before everyone else to get ready and start his working day and with the routine it meant most weekends he was still up early.

At least earlier than Joey.

Sure, he walked Y/n home last night just after midnight and then went a long walk himself before returning home, but waking up at midday was a stretch for Chandler. So, he’s quick to get out of bed and change.

Joey wasn’t even home, most likely at Monica and Rachel’s apartment having a late breakfast while Ross reads the newspaper and Phoebe chats in his ear, all likely to wonder why Chandler’s still to appear.

He pairs his beige trousers with a shirt and stripey sweater. Spending an extra few minutes on brushing his teeth and making sure his hair looked perfect in case Y/n dropped by Monica’s at any point. The smile on his face yet to falter.

The group turn to the front door when it slams, Monica refilling the coffee pot while Ross, Rachel, and Joey sit by the kitchen table with aimless chatter. Phoebe rustles with a card packet on the sofa.

They all observe as Chandler walks in with a slight spring in his step, one hand stuffed in his pocket with a grin upon his face while he speaks, “morning!” They all glance at each other, no joke or sarcastic tone as of yet, an unusual happiness radiating off him that they only guessed came from the date last night.

“Look who’s finally up,” Ross says, taking the last sip of his coffee mug and shaking his newspaper when it flops over. Joey nudges him before looking back to his friend, eyebrows wagging, “well, you did get back late last night.”

Chandler pulls a face at him, shaking his head disapprovingly before walking over to the counter by the door, pushing the key dish away before sitting atop it, facing them all as he speaks, “nothing like that happened.”

“You’re smile says otherwise,” Monica teases, from beside the kitchen window. Chandler looks to her before he falters to speak, unsure with where to start, “I just- Y/n was great, it was—” he splutters over himself.

“Good night?” Rachel asks. “Good night? It was the best night.” Chandler finally finds the words to express, taking it further as he thinks back to the best first date of his life, “she’s so great. We had dinner and she gave me her mushrooms because she knows I like them. We talked the entire night, right up until the restaurant was closing and we had be told to leave.”

They are all fond of the change in Chandler, it was unusual to see him so happy and upbeat, lacking in his sarcastic comments which could be tiring within each response. He lets out a chuckle as he thinks back to the night, the waiter coming over and pulling them out of their reverie for them to see they were the only customers left.

Y/n fought to split half the bill with him, leaning over to pry his credit card away from his hand while he uses his free one to usher hers away. Both of them laughing fondly while the waiter keeps a straight face, unamused by their antics and snatching the card from Chandler before they made their way out.

“I walked her home, and we ended up spending more time at her front door, just talking — I never knew two people could find so much to talk about — and then I kissed her goodnight,” a blush arises on Chandler’s cheek as he admits he kissed her and they all let out little ‘woo’s in response, Joey leaning back in his chair to pat his friend’s knee.

“Well, Y/n sounded just as excited on the phone.” Chandler’s expression dropped into shock, Monica turning back to the table to pour more coffee into each friends mugs, “want a cup, Chandler?” she asks but Chandler is too caught up in her previous comment.

“S-she called here?” asks Chandler, Monica’s eyes fleeting to the side, coffee pot frozen in her hand as she airily chuckles, confused, “yeah, she phones every morning, why?”. Chandler runs his hands over the top of his hair, right through the strands he perfected because even though he made sure they were perfect for Y/n to see, he didn’t process that he’ll have to see her the day after their date.

Chandler jumps from his spot to stand in front of her, hands on either of her shoulders, “what did she say?”. Monica tuts, the others chuckling at the old-Chandler returning, the awkward and weird version, “she said you were cute and that you kissed her.”

“That’s all?” Chandler asks and before he can feel relieved, Monica continues, “apart from that, she’s headed over.”

That’s what he was afraid of hearing. Of course she was coming over, she was just as close a friend to everyone as Chandler was. “Oh dear God,” Chandler moves away from his friend and covers his red-beat face with his hands, each of the girls look confused as they watch him go from loved-up and sappy to a nervous wreck in a matter of seconds.

“What did I miss?” Rachel asks, while Ross and Joey only smile awkwardly, “it’s the day after their date,” Joey begins but defensively Rachel continues before he can fully explain, “yeah, so?”.

Chandler pulls his hands away before landing on the back of the chair Joey’s sitting on, looking down at Rachel with a newfound fear in his eyes, “she’s my friend! my best friend, even! Normally the day after the date you don’t see the girl for a few days, especially not the day after.”

“Not unless they’ve slept over if you know—” before Joey can continue in his flirty manner, Chandler cuts in, “I gotta get outta here.” The girls ‘pshh’ in disbelief of the way he’s acting, overdramatic and a little bit rude.

Ross tries to level with him as Chandler turns around to leave, “suck it up, this is Y/n we’re talking about. If you’re the only one not here she’ll think something’s wrong.” Chandler’s still turning towards the door, maybe he’ll leave her a message once he’s back in his own apartment and say he’s sorry he missed her today. Maybe he’ll wait until she’s home later and then they can talk over the phone.

However, before the million thoughts can dissipate into one idea, the door is opening in front of him and in Y/n walks. Chandler has a hand over his mouth while his thoughts ran wild, but the moment she’s in sight, it drops like each worried thought.

She wears a long trench coat and pale coloured scarf to battle the cold New York winter weather, wide-leg trousers with boots peeking out the bottom and Chandler is simply swooning within that moment that he can’t think straight anymore.

He’s kissed this girl. He still can’t believe it.

Y/n’s eyes land on Chandler first and she gives him a warm smile before greeting everyone else, who replies lightly but way too focused on watching the pair interact. She unravels her scarf before shrugging off her coat to place on the hooks by the door, if it were any other day Chandler would’ve helped her, but his feet were glued to the floor.

She looks back to Chandler, entirely delicate and earnest as she walks over. Her hand gently ghosts over his hip while whispering a soft, “hey, Chandler.” Leaning up, she places a kiss to his cheek before moving away from him.

Chandler’s frozen, hand reaching up so his fingers touch the spot she just kissed before turning to the rest of his friend’s once again. Y/n sat by Phoebe, quietly enquiring the girl of her cards who pulls her curious expression away from Chandler to amuse Y/n instead.

The others watch Chandler from behind Y/n’s spot, Joey nodding encouragingly towards the girl while Monica interjects from leaning against the counter, feeling some tension across the room, “coffee, Y/n?”.

“Coffee would be great, thank you, Mon,” Y/n speaks up in her oh-so-sweet voice that makes Chandler think he could melt into a puddle of sappiness and pure love. Compared to the chattiness from them both last night to the quiet on this noon, Chandler knows it’s only because he has to get used to it.

Y/n and him.

Not that he didn’t want that, he had been thinking about Y/n and him for God-knows how long, Chandler had never wanted a relationship as badly as he wanted one with Y/n. But they were friends, and he had never dated a friend before, and it was terrifying to him as much as he loved the idea.

What are they right now? Still just friends? Friends that date? or just dating but happen to be best friends?

It seems anytime Y/n makes eye contact with him that his worrying stops seize so he can focus on how amazing she is. Since his second wave of worries fall the moment she turns to look at him again, that kind smile addicting.

Joey stands from his spot, the lovesick gazes from one another tiring since he knows Chandler is a wimp to do anything about it. He stands behind Chandler, a hand on either of his shoulders before pushing his friend towards the couch, ushering him while the others silently gesture to Y/n so Chandler can make a move.

He clears his throat awkwardly, the sweater added with the situation making Chandler feel overheated when he looks to them all scared before sitting down beside Y/n. He tries to look casual, leaning back on the seat and his arm leaning against the back of the sofa, the space behind Y/n.

Y/n continues to look up at him, his awkward stance somehow not scaring her away as Chandler would expect. Instead, she moves slightly from Phoebe’s side and into Chandler’s, thigh brushing his and her shoulder tucking under his underarm.

There go the butterflies over Chandler’s stomach again at the feeling of Y/n so close to him.

Finally finding the words to speak, Chandler clears his throat again before asking, “hey, uh- did you, uh- sleep well last night?. The gang roll their eyes from behind Y/n’s head at the question, Phoebe looking at Chandler in sympathy before standing from her spot to leave them alone on the sofa.

Before Chandler can curse himself for sounding weird, Y/n’s giggling at how nervous he seems, finding his attitude so cute and so very Chandler. “I slept great, thank you,” her eyes never fail to pull from his, addicting, as her giggle lowers, “did you get home okay?”.

God, she’s so pretty. Chandler thinks before mustering up an answer.

He scratches the tiny stubble upon his jaw, a quirk Y/n had took notice of him doing when he’s nervous and awkward, “yeah, fine, fine,” Chandler replies and his eyes crinkle when he smiles so sweetly, Y/n’s expression matching, “good.”

They can feel their friends eyes on them, so intense that Y/n can’t help but giggle again as she breaks the ice by holding her hand to his jaw gently before quickly leaning in to peck his lips. It’s small and finishes as quick as it happens, Chandler trying to lean towards her after she pulls away.

His mouth agapes, eyes wide and surprised that Y/n was that bold to do it in front of the gang, but more than happy she did. Y/n’s hand then trails from his jaw to the shoulder of his arm rested behind her, fingers poking the sweater material endearingly while Chandler watches.

“You’re awfully tense. Are you okay?” Y/n asks and Chandler is practically swooning at her feet from the affection she’s delivering him, her hand flat and rubbing his arm so lovingly that he wants to bury his head against her neck and keep her as close as he possibly can.

His cheeks are red and mind feels hazy and light, the worries from earlier long gone and feeling less awkward from the moment her lips pecked his, the muscles beneath her touch relaxing. “Yeah, y’know, just went home and lifted some weights last night,” Chandler’s smile grows when Y/n laughs at his sarcasm.

That was the Chandler she knew, and the Chandler she was gravely in love with.

“Is that your post-date routine?” Y/n asks and Chandler outwardly laughs while leaning further into her touch, his friends watching him fall back into the sappy nature he was at first. “Nah, my post-date routine consists of a pit of worrying if I did something wrong and thinking of how pretty you looked in that dress while Joey’s snores keep me up.”

With that Y/n giggles even more, face close to his when she replies, “well, you better get used to that.” Chandler’s nose nudges Y/n’s before he tilts to the side, “more than happy to,” he says under his breath before their lips connect in a longer, more tender kiss than before.

“Alright, alright, get a room, you guys,” they pull away at the sound of Joey’s voice while Monica and Rachel lean over to smack his arm. Chandler looking up while Y/n digs her head into his neck, Chandler forgetting how awkward he was before as he only pulls her comfortingly into his side.

He will definitely get used to this.

⤸

taglist form . the library . chandler bing masterlist

taglist in reblog <3 please remember to support content creators and reblog.

Reblog if you’ve ever imagined yourself being interviewed with the avengers cast as if you were apart of the movie

I feel like this will get no reblogs because I’ve always felt like I’m the only person who does this haha :)

Excuse me, sir, you can't be so FUCKING HANDSOME like that. Please, come to my room so we can solve this situation.

what image did i just perceive bc honey i— 💀💦

Heroes say goodbye to Tony Stark in Avengers: Endgame deleted scene

do not chastise the dove (17) ✧ steven grant, marc spector, jake lockley

do not chastise the dove ✧ a royal moon knight au | ao3 | pinterest board

pairing: knight!steven grant x fem!princess!reader x knight!marc spector x knight!jake lockley

series summary: you were a princess who would rather be anything but a royal; he was the knight her father forced her to marry—a true match made in hell if there ever was one. but, as the wedding inches closer and closer, it seems that, perhaps, your father had finally done something right by you. 

chapter summary: you take your position as queen.

word count: 4,331

warnings?: fluff, mention of sex trafficking, mention of benjamin, pet name (dove), not proofread

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