#AGAIN IDK IF ANYONE IS REALLY INTERESTED IN THIS BUT. .. . ...

[thepinkpanther83]

Hello again, I’ve come w a suggestion I was hoping you could possibly bring to life, if not though I understand! Idk if it would be a multi character fic or just one really long one so don’t feel obligated or anything!

Anyway, picture this: older Eddie, early to mid forties, he’s gruff but still lean and he’s the mechanic(if yo car fucked up don’t panic) and he’s been heartbroken so he just sleeps around and refuses to really let anyone in.

In comes you, new in town to take over some relatives business(maybe a bar or coffee shop). Late 20s, grungy and has quick wit. Eddie comes into your place of business and immediately catches your eye. You flirt and he does back, he leaves and one of the locals comes to you and gives the infamous “he isn’t looking for anything other than another notch on his bedpost” chat. So you think it’s just meaningless flirting, but he starts to come in more often and actively seeks your conversation/company.. que you having car problems and taking it into the mechanics and seeing him there. He asks for your number and you get to know each other.

Classic “he’ll change if he wants me” trope and of course, sarcasm, fluff and smut.

So, maybe something you’d be interested in? I really love your writing so I hope you aren’t uncomfortable w this request. Sending you love and positive energy!!

Grease And Honey (Pt.1 New Girl, Same Grind)

Chapter One: “New Girl, Same Grind”

Eddie Munson x Female Reader

💌 Author’s Note:

To my cherished repeat Anony requester… you know who you are. 🫶🏻

Thank you, from the bottom of my coffee-fueled heart, for this incredible story prompt. You handed me a rough sketch of a grease-stained, emotionally unavailable Eddie Munson and a snarky tea-drinking café owner, and let me run wild with them. I don’t take it lightly that you trust me again and again to bring your ideas to life. This story wouldn’t exist without your spark of inspiration.

I hope “Grease and Honey” delivers on all the slow-burn tension, banter, heartache, and heat your heart desired, and then some. 💋

Love always,

~Pinkie 🍒

Masterlist

Find me on AO3.

Read this story on AO3.

🎸🛠️☕🍯 Summary:

In the sleepy town of Hawkins, a freshly-inherited café and a busted-down car throw two unlikely souls into each other’s orbit.

He’s the town’s tattooed mechanic… gruff, flirtatious, and known for leaving hearts in his rearview. She’s the new girl with a sharp wit, a love of honeyed tea over coffee, and no intention of becoming anyone’s flavor of the week.

But some things can't be tuned out, not a shared spark, not stolen glances, and definitely not chemistry strong enough to break a lifelong habit of running from real connection.

Because sometimes, what starts as harmless flirting over coffee turns into something worth keeping.

Next Chapter: Chapter Two: "Morning Regular"

Click "Keep Reading" below the cut to read. 😘

Chapter One: “New Girl, Same Grind”

Hawkins Indiana, Summer 2006.

There was still a faint smell of cinnamon in the walls.

Even after months of dust settling, spiders claiming corners, and sunlight filtering through untouched blinds, the old place still smelled like your uncle’s favorite scone recipe. Sweet, spiced, and just a little burnt. Comforting in a “you’ll figure it out” kind of way.

You stood behind the scratched-up counter, sleeves rolled to your elbows, sticky with lemon cleaner and something older you’d rather not name. It was your third hour in the place officially opened, and already, your back ached and your hair was tied up with a pencil like some kind of over caffeinated librarian.

The old coffee shop: Grindhouse, sat squat on the corner of Main and Beech, its windows a little foggy from years of neglect but its bones still strong. Hip enough to attract the teens, comfy enough for the town’s aging poets and angry journalers. Black brick exterior, faded red awning. A flickering neon sign in the shape of a steaming mug hung above the door like a half-hearted welcome.

It was yours now.

Inherited, unexpectedly, after Uncle Jack’s heart finally gave out during a bar fight at The Hideout (which, you were told, he started and finished). You didn’t know Hawkins well. Hadn’t visited since you were a teenager. But something about the town’s stillness… the way time seemed to stretch just a little slower here… felt like the kind of restart you didn’t know you needed.

You flicked on the ancient espresso machine, affectionately nicknamed "The Beast" in your uncle’s handwriting on a taped label, and prayed it wouldn’t explode. Steam hissed, water sputtered, and you laughed when it groaned like a wounded animal.

“Same, buddy,” you muttered, tapping a tin of looseleaf chamomile.

Coffee was fine. Great, even, when done right. But you’d always been a tea girl. The kind who keeps jars of honey in a cabinet sorted by origin. Lavender from France. Orange blossom from California. Clover from some dusty roadside stand in Nebraska. The sweetness wasn’t just flavor… it was ritual. Pour, stir, sip, breathe.

And today, you needed the ritual.

You padded across the shop’s checkerboard tile floors, wiping down tabletops and thinking about paint swatches. You made a mental note to fix the warped floorboard near the window seat. The morning light was gorgeous there, perfect for reading, or brooding, or scowling at the world with a dirty chai.

You were halfway through reorganizing the old chalkboard menu, debating whether to bring back the “Bad Witch Latte” special, when the bell above the front door rang.

You straightened automatically, chalk still in hand, fingers dusted white. The early morning haze outside had finally begun to lift, casting a warm light through the front windows. It made the place look… almost alive again.

“Morning!” you called out, too chipper for how little sleep you’d gotten.

A trio of customers wandered in, two middle-aged women deep in conversation and a teen already glued to his phone. Locals, probably. You could tell by the way they didn’t even glance at the specials board or hesitate at the register.

“You’re the new girl, huh?” the taller of the women asked, giving you a once-over with a smile that was a little too tight around the eyes to be entirely kind. “Took over for Jack?”

You nodded. “That’s me.”

“Hmph,” the other woman muttered, pushing her sunglasses up onto her head. “Didn’t know he had family left. Thought you were some big city investor come to gut the place.”

“Nope. Just me. Grieving niece with a mild caffeine addiction and a dream.”

That earned a half-hearted chuckle. They placed their orders, skinny vanilla lattes, one with extra foam, and shuffled toward the corner booth like they owned it. Maybe they did. You were pretty sure the taller one had already started rearranging the throw pillows.

“Order in!” your barista called from behind the espresso machine.

Callie, hired two weeks ago off a hastily taped flyer you’d posted at the local library, was younger than you, twenty-two, and had the kind of sarcastic energy that made customers feel both entertained and a little nervous. Her hair was buzzed short on one side and dyed a green so electric it nearly matched the apron she insisted on customizing with iron-on patches.

She slid the lattes onto the counter with the flair of someone performing alchemy. “Gossip coven’s back,” she muttered under her breath. “They already asked if I’m your daughter.”

You barked a laugh and started prepping a cinnamon roll for the teen still scrolling through YouTube. “We’re like three years apart.”

“Exactly,” she grinned, and then added with mock reverence, “Mom.”

More customers trickled in after that. A guy in coveralls grabbed a black coffee and a ham croissant on his way to the hardware store. A pair of teenage girls with matching backpacks took twenty minutes to choose between the lavender matcha and the cherry cola cold brew. You fumbled with the register once, burned your finger on a hot tray twice, and forgot to apply a loyalty stamp to a regular’s punch card, he waved it off, but you could feel your pride bruising already.

The coffee shop had a heartbeat now. You could feel it, pulsing through the rhythm of orders and names called out, chairs scraping against the floor, that occasional, comforting hiss of the espresso machine. It wasn’t perfect. But it was yours.

Around noon, you finally caught a breath.

You were sipping a lukewarm cup of Earl Grey, honey swirled into a golden whirlpool at the bottom, when the door jingled again.

This time, the woman who walked in made your shoulders tense before you even saw her face.

Sixty-ish, sharply dressed, no hair out of place. Bright pink lipstick. Heels in a town that didn’t seem to require them. You clocked her immediately as the type who didn’t order so much as declare.

She made a slow circle around the shop, arms folded over a powder-blue cardigan, eyes scanning everything like she was conducting an inspection. She paused to lift a throw pillow, then turned it over like she might find contraband underneath.

“Can I help you?” you asked as warmly as you could manage.

Her gaze snapped to yours. “Just looking. I used to come in here all the time. Knew Jack. Shame about what happened.”

“Yeah,” you said softly. “He was… something else.”

“I’m Lorraine Whitmore,” she offered, like it was a name with weight. “I run the florist shop across the street.”

Ah. That explained the faint smell of roses and the air of neighborhood dominance.

“Nice to meet you. I’m-”

“Oh, I know who you are,” she cut in, smiling without teeth. “Everyone does by now. You’re the niece. Took over the shop. Drinks tea with honey instead of coffee. Wants to paint the walls. Trying to do things ‘your way.’”

You blinked. “Wow. I guess small-town gossip really does move faster than FedEx.”

She chuckled primly, then lowered her voice like she was handing over classified intel. “Word of advice, dear. Don’t go getting too comfortable too fast.”

You arched a brow. “Excuse me?”

“There are certain… rhythms in this town. People who’ve been here a long time. Things work better when you don’t try to change too much.”

Ah. There it was.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” you said coolly, gesturing toward the counter. “Can I get you anything?”

She waved a hand like she was above such things. “I’m off caffeine until the afternoon. But I’ll be back. Just wanted to see what the new girl looked like.”

And with that, she breezed out, leaving behind a trail of floral perfume and passive aggression.

Callie peeked out from the kitchen with a half-eaten brownie in her hand. “Was that the Lorraine?”

“Apparently,” you sighed.

“She once wrote a review in the Hawkins Post so scathing it got the pharmacy shut down for a week.”

“I believe it.”

The rest of the day unfolded in a haze of orders and overheard conversations. You started learning faces, catching names. You learned that Mr. Hathaway always wanted his muffin warmed but not too warm, and that Piper, the high school art kid with six nose rings, tipped in stickers and weed gummies instead of cash.

You learned that your uncle had a running tab with the local music store, and that Grindhouse used to do open mic nights. You made a note to maybe bring those back, when the time felt right.

There was a lull. Not quiet exactly, just the kind of brief, midday breath where the espresso machine could rest and the speakers played something low and moody from the ‘90s. You sipped your tea and leaned your hips against the counter, letting the steam fan over your face as Callie restocked muffins in the display case with the speed and intensity of a bomb tech.

Then the bell jingled.

You didn’t even have to look up.

Lorraine Whitmore had a heel-click. A little stomp in her step like she was leading a parade and everyone else was just lucky to be on the sidewalk. She marched right in with a massive patent leather tote, designer sunglasses (indoors, of course), and a notepad tucked under one arm like she was preparing to audit your soul.

“Good afternoon,” she said like it was a formal address to the nation. “I’ll have an oat milk cappuccino, extra dry, no foam, half a shot of espresso, two pumps sugar-free vanilla. And do you happen to have a gluten-free turkey sandwich on multigrain?”

You blinked. “We have turkey. We have multigrain. It… might have gluten.”

She pursed her lips like you’d just insulted her bloodline.

“Fine. I suppose I’ll survive. But no tomato. And could you cut it diagonally?”

You exchanged a look with Callie, who mouthed run and disappeared into the back, absolutely no help whatsoever.

You rang Lorraine up, prepared her beverage exactly as specified, while wondering what exactly makes a cappuccino “extra dry” and handed it off with the kind of tight-lipped smile reserved for tax season.

She didn’t leave.

Instead, she chose the seat farthest from the register and closest to the large window, facing out, so she could keep an eye on both the street and the shop. She set her bag beside her like a precious artifact and pulled out a legal pad. No laptop. Just pen and paper and the occasional squint over her glasses toward the counter.

You’d bet your last jar of lavender honey she hadn’t written anything on that pad in the last fifteen minutes, it was just an excuse to loiter and be nosy.

She was very nosy. And not even subtle about it. The kind of woman who heard footsteps and peeked through blinds. The kind who probably used the phrase “mark my words” in regular conversation.

You ignored her as best you could. Wiped down the already-clean counter. Rearranged the pastry display. Pretended not to notice her watching you like you were about to commit a crime against decorative shelving.

Then the bell rang again.

This time you did look up.

Boots first. Heavy ones, scuffed and grease-slicked around the soles. Then jeans, black, torn at the knee, and worn in the way that said earned, not bought that way. There was a slight hitch in his gait, barely noticeable unless you were looking, but you were. He had a slight half-limp, like an old injury had never quite stopped whispering to him.

Then rings, lots of them, flashing across long fingers as he pushed the door open. Tattoos curled around his knuckles and up his forearms, and disappeared under the sleeves of a black band tee so faded you couldn’t read the logo anymore. His flannel was open and rolled to the elbows. Oil stains on the hem. A chain on his belt hanging and connected to his jeans. Black sunglasses tucked into his collar.

His hair was a mess of warm brown curls pulled into a low bun at the base of his neck, with strands breaking free to frame his face in a way that shouldn’t have worked, but absolutely did. His jaw was sharp, shadowed in stubble, and his eyes scanned the place with casual disinterest, until they landed on you.

You didn’t smile.

You just watched him.

And he watched you back, slow and easy, one corner of his mouth pulling into a cocky half-smirk like he’d already decided something about you and wasn’t planning to share.

He approached the counter, dragging his fingers along it like he was checking the grain of the wood.

“You new?” he asked, voice low and rough, the kind of rasp that came from years of yelling over engines and bad music.

“That obvious?” you replied, deadpan.

He chuckled, short and smug. “Only people still trying are the new ones.”

You raised a brow. “Trying?”

He leaned in slightly, propping an elbow on the counter. “To clean. To make things pretty. To make the menu legible.” His eyes flicked toward the chalkboard you’d been reorganizing. “Locals don’t even read it anymore. They just order the same thing every day.”

“And what’s your usual?”

“Black coffee,” he said. “No sugar. No bullshit.”

Of course it was.

You moved to prep it without a word, already clocking the way his gaze lingered, not in a leering way, just… observant. Like he was cataloging something.

When you handed him the mug, he wrapped one hand around it like he hadn’t touched warmth all day.

“Thanks,” he said, then added with a cocked head, “You got a name, or should I keep calling you ‘New Girl’ in my head?”

You gave him your name, and he repeated it slowly, like he was trying it on for size.

“Eddie,” he said in return, with a grin that could’ve melted the wax off a bar candle. “Munson. Garage is a block down. If your car ever starts making a noise like a dying goose, that’s me.”

“Oh, I’ll call you right away, then,” you said dryly. “Love a man who knows his geese.”

He snorted into his coffee, eyes crinkling at the corners. “You got jokes. Not sure if that’s brave or reckless.”

You shrugged. “You got dirt under your nails and a hole in your jeans. Not sure if that’s charming or contagious.”

He laughed, loud and unbothered, and leaned back just slightly to size you up.

Lorraine very audibly turned a page on her untouched legal pad.

Neither of you looked at her.

But you both knew she was listening. Hard.

Eddie took a long sip of his coffee, still watching you over the rim of his mug like you were something interesting to study under good lighting.

Then he said, “So. What are you doing later?”

And just like that, your day got a hell of a lot more interesting.

You didn’t answer right away.

Not because you didn’t have one, but because you liked the way he looked when he thought he might’ve said too much.

“I’ve got plans later,” you said eventually, voice smooth and even. “But thanks for the offer.”

Eddie didn’t flinch. Didn’t pout or scoff or do anything dramatic. He just nodded slowly and leaned back a little, like he was reassessing, lips twitching at the corners.

“Oh yeah?” he asked. “What kind of plans? Hot date with a spreadsheet? Netflix and lemon-scented mop water?”

You tilted your head. “Dinner with a box of off-brand macaroni and a YouTube tutorial on unclogging industrial sink traps.”

He laughed again, like he couldn’t help it, and tapped the counter twice like you’d just scored a point.

“Okay, yeah, that’s hot,” he said. “Not gonna lie.”

“You sure you can handle that kind of commitment?” you teased. “I mean, things might get serious if I upgrade to elbow pasta.”

Eddie’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “I like things serious. When they’re fun.”

You hummed noncommittally, but your smile was giving you away. There was a flutter in your chest that hadn’t been there this morning, a kind of stupid hope, if you were honest. But you weren’t going to toss it all at him like confetti.

Still, you didn’t want him to leave thinking it meant nothing. Because it hadn’t meant nothing.

“Some other time, maybe,” you said casually, wiping a spot on the counter that didn’t need it.

Eddie caught it. You knew he did. That little hitch in your tone, the crack in the cool.

He grinned like he’d won something.

“Good,” he said. “Would’ve hated to leave here thinking you didn’t want me to ask again.”

You scoffed softly. “You don’t seem like the type who needs permission to do anything.”

He drained the rest of his coffee like it was holy water, then reached into the back pocket of his jeans and pulled out a beat-up leather wallet. He slid a business card across the counter with two fingers, oil-smudged on the edge, but still perfectly legible.

Munson Auto. “If it makes a noise, I can fix it.”

Scrawled in dark ink below the official shop number was a second number. He tapped it twice, then met your eyes again.

“That’s my personal one,” he said, low and deliberate, with a wink that should’ve been illegal before 5 p.m. “You know. In case your sink trap doesn’t call you back.”

You stared at the card a second longer than you meant to, then slipped it into your apron pocket without a word.

Eddie pushed off the counter with one palm, gave you a lazy salute with two fingers, and backed toward the door with that same slight limp and a grin that practically had its own ZIP code.

Then he was gone.

And before you could even breathe, there was a theatrical clearing of a throat from the far corner of the shop.

You didn’t even have to look to know who it was.

“I see you’ve met Hawkins’ resident heartbreaker,” Lorraine said, standing from her table with her half-eaten sandwich in tow. “He comes in like that on purpose, you know. Dirty boots, tattoos, all that attitude, it’s a performance. And it works. Every time.”

You raised an eyebrow but stayed silent, waiting for the rest.

“He’s not the settling down type,” she went on, adjusting her tote strap and lifting her chin like she was about to drop life-altering wisdom. “Drives fast, talks faster. He’s charming until he gets what he wants, and then he disappears, just like his father. There’s a reason his little black book is more like a trilogy.”

You blinked at her. “Sounds like you know from experience.”

Lorraine narrowed her eyes. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you, dear. You seem smart. Would be a shame to see you dragged through the same story as the rest of them.”

With that, she grabbed her bag and her judgment and left, heels clicking all the way to the door.

You stood there a moment, letting the words hang in the air like smoke from a burnt espresso shot.

Then you rolled your eyes, pulled Eddie’s card from your pocket, and stared at it.

It didn’t feel like nothing.

But you weren’t about to let some nosy town watch captain ruin your afternoon.

So you tucked it away, deep in the little zip pouch behind the register, and got back to work.

Whatever this thing was? You’d figure it out later. For now, there was tea to steep. Coffee to brew. Music to change. And a damn good smirk to pretend you hadn’t been thinking about ever since it walked out the door without paying.

Next Chapter: Chapter Two: "Morning Regular"

Who loves Eddie Munson, show of hands! 😂 Let me know if you want to be added to my tag list! @justalotoffanfiction, @yorshie, @jackalope-in-a-storm, @v1per1ne, @daveythorntonslocker, @cokepowder55, @kelsiegrin, @ash-stardust, @meankenna, @kellsck, @chronicles-of-koystee, @micheledawn1975, @fckyeahlames, @cantstandya2000, @totallysocially

Masterlist

[nosferatuix]

I love how you write Shoko. Too many people make her the normal one of sashisu, as if anyone who willingly hung around those two could possibly be normal, when she's kind of a freak(affectionate) who was a little too interested in cutting Yuji up and has a drinking and smoking problem and emotionally detached and avoidant. But some people go too far and make her a genuine idgafer when she IS a very caring person just stunted. aside from how she cares for her friends, she told Yuji he didn't kill anyone and accompanied Megumi to mourn Tsumiki and wanted to make her look good in the afterlife. I think you balance the sides of her character really well without making her too normal or too detached

thankyeww you have no idea how much this means to me. i used to think i was too particular/picky regarding shoko's characterization in fics because my interpretation of her character usually clashed with the general stance of a big chunk of the fandom. too many people really do try to water her character down to make her normal or nice to make sure we drill it in our heads that stsg were grade a assholes, but we see shoko willingly hanging out with two people who relentlessly bully someone she's very close with – she's an asshole too, she's just not annoying about it like the other two are! she has a serious problem with admitting to/expressing her feelings and does not display emotion in front of people she actually loves and cares about, sure – call it occupational deformation if you will because so do other sorcerers and especially because she's a bit desensitized to hurt/dead people – but she cares. this has been proven time and time again in almost every scene we see her, especially the ones you've mentioned. (i especially love the panel of her saying she doesn't believe in an afterlife but still goes above and beyond to fix someone up so that they'd look nice there if there is one. that's just so kind and it's simply for the sake of being kind because it's a kindness she shows to people she thinks won't/can't appreciate her kindness, because, well, she doesn't believe in an afterlife and she just thinks they're gone forever. i love her)

too many people give her shit or try to justify her saying she doesn't care what happens to satoru's body after he dies, claiming he didn't care for her because he called suguru his only friend so she doesn't owe him respect/care, but i think that's such a shallow interpretation!!! she totally had a moment where her mind went completely blank and yuta of all people had to remind her that they had to transfer him to satoru's body as soon as possible. i feel like scenes like this only proved that my understanding of her character was at least a tad bit correct in the sense that she's not a total idgafer at all, it's just that sorcerers aren't allowed to care like us normal people do. truth be told, i don't think we have ever seen any adult sorcerer actively looking like they care? idk i really like exploring shoko's characterization in this sense bc she feels very realistic to me. i'm glad i was able to balance these two approaches bc i really worked hard on making sure i don't mess it up lol

[rejewish]

Ok yall don’t get mad at me but like anyone else not really a fan of the Peeta’s Games trilogy? I read it like a year and a half ago over the course of a few days since I was initially hooked. The pacing was good and I feel the inner monologue of Peeta and already established scenes just from his perspective were good. Some of the OCs I like like the one girl from his friend group who obviously has a crush on him, and the family dynamics they gave the Mellark house were interesting. But so much of the new scenes and dialogue were just not it for me, especially scenes with Katniss like I really felt her dialogue was very out of character a lot. The moments I really disliked that still stand out to me were the whole D4 female characterization since I felt like it was an extension of people refusing to characterize D4 as a “real career district”, Peeta’s proposal speech, Peeta not even thinking a little bit Katniss might reciprocate feelings until the beach scene, Prim being super involved in his rehabilitation, and the growing together portion at the end especially when they go to the lake like Katniss was sooo out of character during that to me.

Idk. I don’t mean to come off as like an absolute hater, I think their portrayal of his hijaking was pretty good and again some of the expansion of his personal life I liked. But I see people always raving about it and I’m like ehh it definitely reads like a fanfic which like it is so whatever, but I disagree that it feels like it could truly be his canon perspective.

Anyone else out there who read it and felt similar? I want to read the Boy with the Bread fanfic too since I know that’s the other like equally popular Peeta POV series. For people who’ve read both based on this post do you think I’d like that one more or less than Peeta’s Games potentially, or which one did you prefer?

[sweetest-honeybee]

Wondering about stockpiling some cheap bust/waist comms for the holidays so save some extra cash

[blamemma]

there’s so many things that daniel paved the way for in this sport that he does not get credited or appreciated for and it’s just interesting to me.....fun helmets....the reveal videos....youtube vlogs....bright and fun and different merchandise...the reserve driver role being something big and something needing fanfare...he truly is the blueprint.

[ai-the-broccoli]

enemies to lovers / but you'll never own my heart

@luzon-dove happy birthday, Quinn!! As a present, I decided to draw a piece fanart of your "blood in the walls of the yagami house" AU fic series, since I found it very well-written and full of super interesting ideas and concepts. I hope you like it!

[mannequinswithkillappeal]

Assad Zaman rehearsing for a reading of Close to Home by Jonathan Gillis at Finborough Theatre Nov '15

A routine morning count in a prison in Israel. Nine years on, two men - Alan, an English-born Israeli former guard, and Nabil, a Palestinian former prisoner - continue to wrestle with the memories and fall-out from the event. Preparing to face one another again, their dramatic stories unfold, along with the questions unresolved, over who they are and where they belong.

[x][x][x]

[under-the-earth]

ik bob doesn't remember his time as either the sentry or the void but i can't get over the fact that he "died" in the common/bar area of the (new) avengers tower. like that's where they terminated him. no one has told him yet - maybe they didn't think they should and it's probably a good decision. but it's gotta come up sometimes.

imagine bob standing at that window, over the spot where his body would've been, and the void suddenly calls out to him, saying some mean shit like "this is where we died. where they killed us. and you think they are your friends." and it's already one of those bad days, you know; made worse now. the void keeps pouring into bob, the bitter temptation to give in and let it take over, let it avenge them again.

imagine too that he isn't alone. the void is there but so are his team members, his friends! and they don't pay much attention him at first; just bob standing by himself being all emo. but that's not entirely true either. he's always in the back of their mind - not because they're afraid he might explode any minute now but because they care. they care about him and his wellbeing and they're always at the ready to comfort him when needed. it's what friends are for, reluctant as some of them may be.

imagine one of them - maybe yelena, or ava, or even john, bucky or enthusiastic alexei, so many friends he has! - comes over, a hand on his shoulder to break him out of the bitter, bitter pit he was slowly being drowned in, and they say "hey, what're you standing there all by yourself, bobby? come join us, food's here. come eat with us." and just a simple invitation, a simple call to be with them is enough, more than enough even, to push that void away.

Bob isn't alone. he doesn't have to be. he won't ever have to be again.

[offthewall1979]

interesting

[faunandfloraas]

Seungmin saying they changed song by so it would be easier for people to watch and listen and then me seeing people going "Yes! It's good it's on tiktok and shorts now" and I'm like. Oh. You're all so fucking stupid <3

[yo-yo-yoshiko]

random question: of the heisei era kamen riders which one do you think is the best as an intro to kamen rider?

Yo, yo hi Anon! I left a short reply on Ultra's post too and I second her recommendations, they're really good!(If you are an unrelated party never mind that though!!) Admittedly, my expertise is far lesser than with Sentai so can't really speak to a season that will give someone the best impression of the Kamen Rider series at large, but I hope I can at least recommend something that would be enjoyable.

That being said I encourage the toku crowd that follows me here to reply with any suggestions if there is a particularly good starter season you wanna champion, for my benefit as well perhaps aahaha!

(some synopses and pitches of my own under the cut)

My first two thoughts were Ghost and Build...

Ghost was one of the Rider seasons I started with when I began watching in earnest. I get the impression that it is a less popular series but i hold a lot of positive feelings towards it.

Ghost is a hero that gains his powers from famous deceased historical figures(and also he can walk through walls, disappear, and fly). It is a more gentle season of Rider in my opinion, less gut-wrenching twists, an easy to follow storyline with melancholy leaning themes regarding life and death and loss, and doing what you can while you can, and doing it with feeling, while still being enjoyably silly and bright! Go into this one with love in your heart lol!

It also has the cutest rider design in my opinion(the sole reason i started watching this one haha!), he looks like this:

He has a little hoodie!!

I also love the supporting cast a lot, and there is a crossover movie with the Rider after him where they fight pacman!!!

---

Build seems to me to be a really popular series of the late Hesei era and I enjoyed it a lot. It has a really punchy action-science vibe that swings expertly between comedic and tragic tones. Like seriously its SO funny but it also HURTS!! I recommend this one if you're looking for the high-energy emotional whiplash that people like to talk about with KR.

In Build, Japan had been split into three little mini-countries and our heroes have to deal with the politics of that for a good portion of the show all while dealing with their own personal battles, and trying to decide where their allegiances lie(with themselves? their countries? their friends? with who they were in the past?).

our main hero is an amnesiac, self-aggrandizing, scientific genius who has partnered with a big, lovable idiot with rocks for brains and powerful fists, to protect the people! the Primary/Secondary Rider dynamic in this series is an iconic one and for good reason, i think!

Half of that dynamic: Banjou Ryuuga... I love him a lot!

(Their tertiary Kamen Rider Grease is great too, if there was ever a guy who was the power of friendship but also kinda mean about it aahaha!)

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If you like older tv from the early 2000s and a bit of a more grungy vibe(less hyper-color) you may enjoy an early heisei series Like 555(often also spelled Faiz) or Agito.

Faiz is a fascinating sort of character drama with interesting dynamics and a range of very unique personalities. They all really go through it from episode one too, so I was pretty white knuckled through the whole thing, having my emotions battered, but that's what I'm into aahah!

The plot is sort of centered around a battle between a few humans and an organization of evolved people called orphenochs that are working to replace the old humanity as the dominant species. I especially enjoyed the orphenoch roommates, a trio who were varying levels of sympathetic to humanity's struggle in the series.

I enjoyed Faiz himself a lot too, he's pretty ill-mannered and took a lot of coercing to get him to join up, and it was fun to follow the absolutely abysmal relationships he formed with his new friends eventually develop into something meaningful.

There is SO much infighting in this series, and a lot of love-triangle type drama which plays out but I believe that's part of the appeal, it was very interesting!

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I watched Agito on a whim once a while before I'd earnestly gotten into the Kamen Rider series(knee deep in sentai at that point and couldn't be distracted aahah!). I think it was technically my second series(after having seen most of the original) so from personal experience I think it's an easy one to start with.

Its another season with incredibly interesting characters. I've seen Agito himself described as a human Animal Crossing villager and that's incredibly accurate. He's an amnesiac fella that likes to cook, clean and tend to his vegetable garden. He is also occasionally compelled to transform and fight Unknown monsters.

He's a real sweetie, so much so that the horrors of his situation just seem to bounce right off of him aahaha!

Agito also has a fun little cop-drama sort of thing going on over with their secondary rider and his circle who have built their own rider system for the police department. It gives me the vibe of a workplace with a lot of underhanded power maneuvering and that's really fun to watch.

It's just generally a very good monster mystery flavored series with a lot of supernatural elements!

(i don't really have any agito pictures aahaha sorry!)

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The best part about starting Kamen Rider is that you can start almost anywhere if you think a particular season will suit your taste since each is generally self contained save for crossover movies. I hope you land on something you enjoy and have lots of fun!

[littencloud9]

ik isagi is probably going to be captain of japan’s wc team but. captain karasu…

[jils-things]

i don't wanna complain so much about school but im getting way too uncomfortable abt this dude in my class 💀

[en-djinn]

ive never had an actual fandom blog before and u can probably tell from me never using captions tht i tend to just post art and leave (and my main is just for funnies) bt i am reluctant to share my thoughts w ppl who do not share my vision cz i get angry/annoyed very fast and i get so tired of being pissed off all the time (why i deleted my old artblog and had reblogs turned off here) butttttt. everyone into adam seems nice. u guys have been nice to me. maybe i will post more things here. unsure.

[batsplat]

do you have a favorite bit of motogp gossip that you either want to know is it’s true, or you just enjoy as a stand alone piece, no need for further investigation?

one of those where I initially stared at and like. lost all motogp knowledge in my brain. and then stuff did come back to me. this is all very much low hanging fruit and I'll add to it when I remember more interesting/quirky ones. BUT here are some things I want to know:

y'know how casey randomly suggests in his autobiography that valentino was sabotaged in the 2006 title decider? so, personally, I don't really buy this, because 'why' and also 'casey girl you are SO paranoid' - though, sure, if given the option I'd like to double check if valentino had a dud tyre (completely plausible) and also if somebody really deliberately gave him one (?? casey idk about this one). but what I'm REALLY curious about is... there's a change in his autobiography?? like I've seen this book excerpt float around online and the text is different from what's in my book!! mine's from the paperback version so I assume there may have been some edits for that, so that would make it the newer version... but like. this is a real editorial change. check this out:

version posted on the internet, from the hard cover edition???

version in my book, first paragraph is the same

But as soon as the lights went out Valentino was in trouble. I was one of six riders to pass him on the first lap and if you watch the footage you can see how much he is struggling to even keep up with us. His rear and front tyres were just not working together and on lap five the front inexplicably folded and he went down, right behind me. I couldn't help but wonder how he could be having such problems with his tyres. Could he really have been stitched up? It seemed so improbable, but I remember watching that race back in the motorhome that evening and thinking, Welcome to my world, mate.

this isn't 'gossip' because I haven't found anyone else who has spotted this, but like? that's a substantive change? if my one really is the newer one? ...?

let's set aside the fascinating insight you get into casey's knotty and at times bizarre valentino rossi complex with him adding the line "welcome to my world, mate" (oh my god. please just take him to dinner. I will crowd fund this I literally just need to be able to listen in. casey come on CALL him I NEED you to do the dinner thing, YOU suggested it not me). like we're not going to even touch that. but if my version really is the updated one, then he's kinda softened his stance, no?? "convinced he was stitched up" to "could he really have been stitched up"

what happened?? who wanted this change? casey? an editor? did dorna give casey a call? did some poor bloke from pr have to politely ask whether casey could please not state in his autobiography that the most popular rider ever had had a title stolen from him by the establishment?

(casey was talking about valentino's stolen tenth BEFORE it was popular. he did it even before valentino did, bless)

"there are a lot of commercial interests in the sport" also didn't make the jump to the 'new version', mind you. did Big America get to casey

come on you guys have to admit this is an odd change?? does nobody else thing this is weird??

okay fine moving on

Did Valentino Literally Curse Sete

(like. not literally as in did he curse curse sete, literally as in did he say it)

(though if he did literally literally curse curse sete, I suppose I'd also like to know that bit)

the commentators in 2003 brno say so and I'm inclined to believe them, but I need to double check whether sete and valentino really were partying on ibiza together right after that very painful valentino loss at the sachsenring. such a fascinating little detail, that's not something post-2004 valentino does I reckon

I mean, look, obviously a bunch of things from that time period I want to have fact checked. including valentino's friend hearing sete say in late 2003 that valentino wasn't going to be smiling so much after joining yamaha. classic bit of gossip, did it actually happen though

I've referenced this a few times before, but y'know how valentino said that marc's manager alzamora told him after sepang 2015 that marc had been angry at valentino for killing his title charge? I just want. to know. if this conversation actually happened. I don't think valentino would pluck a lie like that out of thin air, especially something so specific about somebody on marc's team, and he has known alzamora for decades but like. maybe almazora just said something valentino misinterpreted? I just find this such a bonkers thing from alzamora if it's true that I would like it confirmed for my own sanity, you know?

yeah look I would like to know if marc really did get casey kicked out of honda, obviously I've discussed this before and it's very he said she said but yeah it'd be fun to know the truth

this is literally peak gossip because I can't find a source for it but I swear a journalist did say it: the rumour is that marc blocked joan mir from joining honda in 2019. like, I'm only including this because I was explicitly asked for gossip as I just cannot find where it was said... but it is something that is. out there. and... again, just curious. like I buy it, but also it could be bullshit!

on a similar note, did he ever make clear to honda he didn't want either vinales or rinsy on his team circa 2016? was it just a vibe in the paddock or was this an actual demand from marc?

speaking of!! the whole thing about alzamora basically rigging the moto3 teammate situation between rinsy and alex marquez to ensure the latter won the title that year. what was that all about, how far did they go there

switching to valentino now. this doesn't quite fit the remit of the question because it IS something I've investigated. and my conclusion is basically a big *shrug*

did valentino block casey from joining yamaha in either 2005 or 2006, and did he attempt to block jorge?

there are completely contradictory sources on the timeline here that do make me feel like there's a chance yamaha was just fucking with casey at the very least in 2006 and valentino had fuck all to do with it, which a recent interview from casey did actually hint at too... he made it sound like maybe yamaha was just using him to try to drive down the price of another rider (which would then presumably be jorge)

I just want to know! and the thing is, it was a matter of open paddock discussion that valentino blocked casey (jorge explicitly references it in in 2007), but something doesn't quite add up between what jorge, casey, colin edwards, articles from the time and lin jarvis have said on the subject! my current pet theory is that valentino blocked casey in 2005 from joining the satellite yamaha team in 2006 (weirdly casey doesn't really imply valentino was responsible for this one in his autobiography, but whatever) but NOT in 2006 (casey does imply valentino was responsible here, you see my problem). and yamaha was fucking around with all four of valentino, casey, jorge and edwards in late 2006/2007. but. yeah. I have unanswered questions

the entire 'alex marquez blocked from yamaha' situation.... again. something is off there. you know the story from late last year about how he was blocked in 2019 from joining the petronas team in 2021? this completely threw me, because there was an entirely different story about this YEARS back in 2018!! I initially assumed the two stories were about the same event, but it can't have been! one's him being blocked in 2019 for 2021, one's him being blocked in 2018 for 2019

from the descriptions of both there's also no confusing them. the 2018 story has to be about the 2018 contract cycle because that's quite literally when it was published, and the 2023 story has to be about the 2019 contract cycle because it explicitly references the space fabio would create by moving to the factory team for 2021, which obviously wouldn't make sense before fabio's actual rookie season. like they have to be about different stories

and in that same 2018 story, marc said that back in 2016 lin jarvis told him no marquez would be joining yamaha:

again, this was in 2018!!

plus, he did say back in 2016 that he'd spoken to jarvis, which kinda backs up this is a conversation that did happen and marc isn't just misremembering the timeline/lying (the notion of marc joining yamaha in 2017 is fantastic, what an absolutely horrendous idea):

now what marc says in 2018 about his conversation with lin jarvis is very similar to petronas yamaha boss razali saying in 2023 that he'd been told by yamaha no marquez was allowed at yamaha. suggests that this is a thing that did happen!!

but again... razali was told that in 2019... after marc had already been told the same thing three years before that, and the exact same deal had already been blocked one year earlier... does nobody else think this is weird?? like, I'm not saying yamaha hq covered themselves in glory here, but is it not a little strange the satellite yamaha squad had basically almost signed a contract with the younger marquez again without checking in with yamaha, just ONE YEAR after this same contract had already been blocked???

again this isn't actually gossip because I'm apparently the only person going ?? about this but I'll say it: ??

kinda been annoying me since december last year, like I know it doesn't matter but I'm just curious about it! why's nobody else talking about the 2018 story!

idk my best guess here is that petronas yamaha was faffing about and playing weird games with the factory team, that the deal was never as likely to happen as they made it sound to the marquez camp. zero proof, that's me spreading rumours yeah... time to create some of my own unfounded gossip

(also of course I'm curious if valentino did have any actual involvement in this. like if lin jarvis was telling marc this in the year of our lord 2016, I'm assuming valentino didn't have to explicitly say to jarvis that 'inviting marc to the team for 2017' wasn't exactly high on his christmas wish list. it is interesting that marc frames it as jarvis making this about. like. all the marquez's way back in 2016, and again, would this really have been on valentino's radar at the time? that feels a bit...? alex marquez was thirteenth in that moto2 season? would certainly be very... thorough for valentino to already have had that particular talk with jarvis)

(mind u there's a fun moment in a 2019 presser where valentino is sitting between the two marquez brothers and the younger marquez is being asked about his contract situation, the implication being he'd had a motogp deal and no longer had a motogp deal. and he's answering and marc's doing his freak stare and valentino is Right There sitting between them... I <3 mess)

man did valentino actually ever fucking block anyone from joining his manufacturer #notmygoat. I still think he didn't know about jorge until the deal was basically done, had nothing to do with the younger marquez, at most blocked casey the one time but then yamaha wasn't actually seriously intending on signing casey in 2006 and was just using it as a play in their jorge negotiations, which.... idk. bit disappointing if true icl. I hope he blocked someone, I'll say it

(also. okay. I don't want to sound awful here because I do have a lot of sympathy for baby!casey but. ignoring the morality for a second, I do LOVE the idea that valentino blocked casey from getting a satellite yamaha seat fresh off his 250cc runner up season because it would conclusively prove valentino did ABSOLUTELY rate casey!! like he didn't even want casey to come close to being his teammate!! not even a sniff at his data!!) (genuinely this is the rumour I'm choosing to believe, I know there's a chance valentino didn't successfully block anyone and was just a complete flop but I want the 2005 one to be true. it really adds something to the rivalry idk... like ugh valentino saw how dangerous casey was proper early when much of the paddock wasn't yet convinced... cute)

moving on

there was a rumour in 2015 that valentino approached dani after aragon to complain about how sturdy his defence was, like moaning about denying him points and shit. now, there's exactly one article about this in marca that is the sole origin point for the rumour, and it says that valentino also interrupted a honda party after phillip island to complain to marc. this does not match up at all with anything either marc or valentino have said since then - and would mean you have to believe that marc wasn't actually blindsided by that presser... also feels a bit unlikely we would have heard NOTHING from any other source if vale was really gatecrashing a honda party

of course, neither dani nor valentino have spoken about this supposed post-aragon 2015 meeting either, not even when dani was kinda accusing valentino of hypocrisy during sepang 2015, but I suppose you could say maybe dani's just not the type of guy to bring it up again. however.... I do reckon occam's razor kinda applies here and if one of these stories is bullshit then they probably both are, plus it's not like marca is exactly a neutral source. still would love to be certain!! instinctively I don't really think that's valentino's style at all, but of course it'd be intriguing if the story were true because it'd be a sign of how 2015 kinda messed with him. but I still feel 2015 is more about him falling back on past tools he'd mostly discarded - rather than, like, acting wildly out of character, which again... well, this brings us back to how that kind of behaviour isn't really valentino's style. basically, I don't buy it, but that's kinda why I am so curious about it? because I feel like it would be really interesting and quirky if he had actually done that. does this make any sense

speaking of, again this doesn't really count because I did kinda investigate it last year.... but you know when valentino in that podcast referenced a conversation with marc around the time of sepang 2015, where marc stared blankly at him? I have a hunch about when that conversation happened, want to know if it's right. this also isn't really 'gossip' because this is a conversation I'm having with myself but

y'know when bez was injured on the ranch late-ish last year? a bunch of journalists pointed out how hush hush they were about what actually happened to bez - like they repeatedly drew attention to that because god knows THEY love some gossip lol. which probably means nothing, but I'm curious what the journalists' theory here is, like do they think it was an embarrassing injury?? OR. look. I suppose the conspiracy theory would be that pecco caused it (obviously accidentally!!) and everyone at the ranch knew it'd be a terrible look if they admitted that because of the whole title fight situation. call me casey stoner because those dots are not real and definitely have not been connected

okay, you know how there were rumours in the spanish tabloids bez said some real ugly stuff to marc at valencia last year, and bez didn't directly address it but freaked a little and did a sort of blanket denial that he'd said anything that bad? I don't actually think he did tbh, but again. would just like to check!

while we're already on bez, there was one report that the switch to aprilia was partly motivated by marc to factory ducati. again, not entirely sure I buy that this would factor into his thinking beyond the obvious 'this means the route to that factory ducati seat looks even more closed than it already did' angle'.... it's very much down my list of priorities but I'd quickly confirm/deny it if given the chance yeah

that's all for now lol

[cheekblush]

so it was officially my crush’s last day at work 🥲