#he'd have three nickels

[reineydraws]

three is a pattern, shanks!

[jetblackknight]

👀 I am sending you one back for Neri because : )

Send 👀 for a dirty thought / fantasy my muse has had about yours!

▬▬ι═══════ﺤ 𝙽𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚊, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎. 𝙼𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚢 𝚒𝚝 ? 𝙸 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊. . . 𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚜. 𝙴𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚜𝚎 𝚠���𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚎𝚖𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚒𝚛 𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚛. . . 𝙸𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚊 𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜, 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎, 𝙸 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚢𝚘𝚞 .

[claitea]

i just finished watching a playthrough of paranormasight and just. oh my god if you can handle horror games PLEASE do yourself a favor and check it out bc this was so well written this is an INSTANT top ten favorite game of all time for me

[retrobutterflies]

Velvet Kisses | e.m.

Eddie Munson x Female!Reader

Summary: Your shitty job has you turning to your almost-boyfriend for help, making both of you admit the full extent of your feelings.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Slight Angst, Major Fluff, Semi-Established Relationship, A creepy man but nothing happens

A/N: This is my brain vomit.

There were few jobs in Hawkins that were desirable. Last year you worked at the 5 & 10 and your boss didn't understand that you couldn't work shifts before 3pm because of school so he fired you for showing up late to shifts you explicitly stated you couldn't work. Over the summer you were a camp counselor and had dealt with enough crying kids and kickballs to the face last you a lifetime. And your job at the minimart lasted all of three days before the former employee who you were replacing had come back begging for their job.

But working at the gas station had to be one of the better jobs you've had. It required little brain power, the most taxing job being wresting with the cash register that seemed like it was a hundred years old. Your boss was a kind man, paying you generously and forcing his son to drive you home at the end of your night shifts. And he even let you leave early if it was a particularly slow day.

That being said, you had never encountered so many walks of life as you had at your evening night shifts at Hawkins Oil. Young kids trying to see if you'd let them buy beer, raiding the snack aisle, and asking you strange probing questions like 'Have you ever been to Skull Rock?' Older patrons frequenting the back freezers and packs of cigarette lining the wall behind you. Some people asked for strangely specific amounts of gas to be put on their pumps and others counted their change down to the last cent as if you were planning on jipping them a nickel.

The worst, however, was the creepy men whose eyes lit up at a young girl working the night shifts. They would lean in close enough so you could smell the tobacco on their breath as they asked for a lighter or gum or whatever was behind the counter so you had to interact with them. And they would purposely brush your hand as they paid, making sure to ask you questions as you hurried through the sale as if it would prolong the conversation.

Your boss made sure to never have you working alone. Either him or his son would accompany you, staring down any strange man that tried anything. It was the reason you felt safe enough to work there. And you had never had any problems until today.

"I just need to leave ten minutes early. I'll do all the inventory and clean up. All you have to do is lock up once your shift is over." The owner's son Mikey was hard to say no to. His green eyes and swooping hair made him a complete sight for sore eyes and his continuous begging throughout the day about how important this date was tonight and how he couldn't be late or he'd never find true love made you acquiesce faster than you'd like to admit. And you wanted him to be happy you just didn't want to finish your shift alone.

"All the inventory?" you questioned as if you hadn't already made up your mind. His eyes lit up as he shook his head up and down.

"All of it. And you can leave ten minutes early on Monday," he added. You smiled. You were already going to say yes but you weren't going to argue with leaving early.

"Okay, fine. But you better fall in love," you said as he jumped up, scrambling to finish the inventory count so he could leave in twenty minutes.

"I'll tell this story at our wedding," he said, his grin highlighting his sharp cheekbones. You let out a laugh.

Twenty minutes came and went and soon enough Mikey was zipping out of there, his "See you next week!" fading until all you heard was the muted buzzing of the overhead fluorescent lights. You busied yourself with doodling on the discarded receipts, pen swirling in random patterns as you waited for the minutes to tick by. The ringing of the bell on the door had your eyes flickering up as a man wandered in. You didn't think much of it at first, continuing your aimless drawing as he meandered to the back freezer. But then he made his way up to the counter, making you jump as you noticed his proximity.

"That all?" you asked, straightening up as he placed the coke can on the counter.

"A pack of reds, too," he said after a moments hesitation. You nodded, turning behind you to grab the pack of Marlboro cigarettes. When you turned back, you couldn't help but notice the uncomfortable way his eyes lingered on you.

"That'll be $3.81." He nodded, pulled a five from his wallet, and slid it over the counter.

"You can keep the change," he said. You nodded, averting your eyes down to the cash register as you loaded in the bill. When he didn't leave, you glanced up at him feeling an uneasy prickling in the back of your neck at his stare.

"Do you need anything else, sir?" you asked. Maybe he was just tired. It was late and the sun had long set now, the only light illuminating the parking lot coming from the store.

"What time do you guys close?" he asked. It was an innocent question. Many people had asked you before and you didn't bat an eye. But there was something about this time, about him asking with his oddly piercing gaze that made your stomach twist uncomfortably.

"Ten." It was quiet for a moment, neither of you saying anything else before he nodded, gave you a smile, and headed out the door. You watched him walk into the parking lot. He turned around halfway, eyes staring back at you. He smiled, again, and you felt your gut twist more. Then he walked to his car.

You waited with bated breath, waited for him to start the ignition and pull out of the lot. But the seconds ticked by and he wasn't leaving. You counted to sixty, then sixty again. Still the car sat motionless, shrouded in the darkness of the corner of the parking lot that the storefront didn't illuminate. Why wasn't he leaving? Why was he just sitting there?

You looked up at the clock, watching the big hand tick to ten o'clock on the dot. A sudden rush of dread flushed through you. Mikey had been your ride. In his excitement, neither of you remembered that he was supposed to drive you home. Your home which sat on the other side of town. Even if you wanted to walk it would take you nearly an hour. And looking at the car quiet and unmoving in the empty parking lot made the idea of walking a fool's mission.

You hopped up quickly, heading to the door to flip the lock. Even closer up you couldn't see the driver's seat of the car. If you hadn't watched the man get into it you would've believed it was abandoned.

"Shit," you muttered.

You walked back to the counter, grabbing for the phone as your eyes kept glancing back at the car as if it was finally going to leave. You called your house phone close to seven times. You knew your parents were staying with your grandparents but your good for nothing sister was supposed to be home. She wasn't even supposed to have plans tonight so why wasn't she answering.

You felt near hysterical as the phone went unanswered for the eighth time. You slammed the phone down, sending every curse under the sun to your lousy useless car-wrecking sister who was the whole reason you didn't have a car in the first place.

The car was still there and you still didn't have any way to get home. But like hell were you sleeping in this place. You gnawed on your lip, weighing your options before his face popped into your head.

Eddie Munson. You squeezed your eyes shut, wracking your brain to try and remember the combination of numbers of his landline. You had called him two days ago. It was written on a pink post-it note taped on your mirror. You stared at it every time you did your makeup. Grabbing the pen, you flipped over an un-doodled receipt and quickly wrote down the numbers you remembered. Four . . . nine . . . three . . . Come on.

You and Eddie had started seeing each other maybe three weeks ago. You weren't exclusive and you had only gone on a handful of dates but you did call each other often. You knew his number was somewhere in your brain you just had to pry it out.

Minutes passed by and your hope was dwindling exponentially until like a light bulb the number appeared in your brain. You quickly scribbled it down before you forgot and picked up the phone, punching the numbers in.

The phone rang and you nervously tapped the pen in your hand on the counter as you waited for him to pick up.

"Hello?" You had never been happier to hear his gruff rumbly voice.

"Eddie!" you breathed, smile over taking your face. You heard movement on the other end before he responded.

"Hi Sweetheart. I was wondering if you'd call," he commented. You could hear the smile in his voice, imagining him leaning onto his counter, phone pressed to his cheek.

"I was gonna, when I got home. But I'm still at work," you said. He let out a hum.

"Still working? Did you miss me that much?" he let out a soft chuckle. You would've laughed if you weren't so on edge.

"You wish," you replied, a smile working it way onto your lips. Just the sound of Eddie's voice had your anxious nerves settling a bit. "Um, are you doing anything right now?"

"Burning some Spaghettio's. Was gonna play a little guitar but," he cleared his throat as if he was suddenly nervous. You heard movement again, "Was kinda waiting for your call. Didn't wanna miss it."

The thought of Eddie loitering around the kitchen, eyes watching the land line waiting for your call had your stomach doing somersaults. You had had a crush on Eddie for the better part of a year, hopelessly pining from a distance as your social groups were miles a part. He was always so vibrant and engaging and it was hard to miss him around school. His big brown eyes, wild hair, and general disregard for societal standards had you roped in immediately but the thought of him liking you was still a foreign concept.

When he had admitted that he had been crushing on you for years before you finally started talking because of a group project, you nearly called him out on what you thought was a blatant lie. And he was adamant that the minute he saw you, sparkling eyes and witty tongue, he was sold. But your relationship was still new, unlabelled and fresh that you struggled with what was appropriate to say or do. Was it too early to be calling him every night? Could you admit you missed him when he was away?

Sometimes, however, Eddie would say something so indulgently sweet that it took your breath away for a minute and had you bursting at the seems with affection.

"Eddie," you knew your eyes were rounding, bottom lip pushing out as you felt your chest squeeze in adoration, "That was really cute. I was looking forward to calling you all day." Your admission had him humming contentedly, his wide smile so evident in his tone.

"Yeah? I kinda wish I could've called you yesterday but duty calls or whatever bullshit," he sighed, referring to his band practice that seemed to go into the late hours of the night despite Gareth's mother's disproval.

"It's okay. I know you're a busy man," you said, tracing the side of the phone as you pictured Eddie's smile.

"Not too busy for you," he let out a sheepish laugh before adding, "You could probably convince me to cancel any plan I had. Just to see you."

You felt your heart flutter.

"Stop being cute. You're distracting me. I need to ask a favor," you said.

"Ask away. The answer is already yes," he replied, voice rumbling happily over the static. He was going to make you pass away.

"Do you think you could pick me up from work? My sister isn't answering," you admitted, voice growing softer. Your eyes flickered back to the parking lot, watching the car that still sat motionless.

"I thought that Mikey kid was your ride?" he asked. If he picked up on your unease he didn't comment on it.

"He was. We kinda forgot and he left early for a date," you explained. He hummed again and you heard movement and the jangling of keys making your stomach uncoil.

"You know, I could be your ride home from now on. So you don't have to rely on loverboy," his tone was slightly sharper as he referenced your coworker.

"He's usually reliable. He got caught up in the excitement–"

"And ditched you," he interjected, huffing at his annoyance.

"He didn't mean to. I'm not mad at him," you reassured.

"Right, no, s'okay. He works tomorrow though, right?"

"Eddie," you warned but he let out a laugh.

"I'm only kidding. Partially. I'm on my way, though, so hang tight, okay? I'll be there in like ten minutes max."

You let out a breath, nodding though he couldn't see you. When you said your goodbyes you tried to visualize what Eddie was doing to distract yourself from the foreboding silence of the empty store; door swinging shut, car beeping, keys ratting, ignition starting.

True to his word, not even seven minutes later Eddie's truck was peeling into the parking lot. You had never been so happy to see his wonky rusted old truck. You hopped up, grabbing your bag and hurrying to the door. The keys jangled loudly as you locked up behind you. As you turned around, you were distracted from Eddie's wide smile as the lights from that godforsaken car suddenly turned on. You froze, watching the red car pull out, pause, and then drive out of the parking lot.

You knew he had been waiting for you. Waiting to see when you were leaving, how you were getting home, but to see it be proven made you feel a little lightheaded. Your eyes met Eddie's as he glanced over his shoulder at the retreating headlights in the distance.

"Who was that? Not that sorry punk Mikey," Eddie asked as you hopped into the passenger seat, dropping your bag to your feet.

"No, he–" you took a sudden shuttering breath that had Eddie's mood dropping significantly, "He was a customer. And he was being weird and he's been sitting in his car for the past half hour probably waiting for me to leave."

You had never seen Eddie this angry. His joking tone before about being mad at Mikey suddenly transforming into hot anger at the idea that he had left you alone for some creep to stalk you like you were his prey.

"I'm picking you up from now on, okay? You tell that son of a bitch if he does anything other than grovel at your feet for forgiveness I'm paying him a visit," he seethed, hand flexing so his rings glinted in the muted lighting.

You turned in your seat to face him, cheek resting against the headrest as you gazed up at him. His eyes were hard, jaw clenched tight and brows furrowed. You reached out a hand to cup his cheek, thumb stroking the high of his cheekbone until his face relaxed. He turned to meet your eyes, his own softening at the look you were giving him.

"I'm okay. I have a baseball bat tucked under the counter as a last minute resort," you assured, voice soft and melodic as he leaned into your palm. His hand reached out to grab your free one, linking your fingers together and squeezing.

"I don't like you being scared," he admitted.

"My fear turns to rage pretty quickly under pressure," you hoped some humor would lighten the mood and he managed to crack a small smile at your comment.

"You'll call me if you ever need anything, right?"

"Of course," you said. His eyes trailed from your abused your bottom lip from worrying it between your teeth to the tension set in your jaw.

His free hand moved up to caress yours, holding it tighter to his cheek as his other softly stroked your palm.

"I'll never let anything bad happen to you, you know that, right?" he said, eyes burning into yours, tone soft but firm. You felt a swell of emotion in your chest. You nodded but he seemed adamant to continue, like you didn't grasp the seriousness of his words.

"I don't care if it's a paper cut or a spider or if the president himself was bothering you, I'll handle it. You call me and I'm there," he pressed, leaning in closer so you could smell his smoky cologne.

You nodded again but your throat suddenly felt tight and your eyes were prickling with moisture. He clocked the tears instantly and he was leaning in, lips pressing to your forehead, hand moving to the back of your neck, weaving his fingers into the hair at the base of your head. He massaged it gently, lips trailing kisses down your temple, to your cheeks, on your nose, and finally to your lips. You didn't realize tears had fallen until he was swiping them away with his thumb.

Your free hand clenched the front of his shirt, pulling him closer as he pressed soft, comforting, sweet kisses on your face. His hand scratched your head, fingertips swirling in hypnotic circles until he was pulling back and stroking the hair out of your face. His lips found yours again, pillowy soft and warm as if they were forcing you to relax. The tension slowly eased from your body until your head felt light and your mind gooey.

All at once you wanted to say those three sacred words. You wanted to spill all of your feelings and emotions and tell him you loved him until the sun came up. You wanted to drown in him, kiss him until you didn't know your own name anymore. And you wanted him to know you were completely and utterly sold on him. He had ruined anyone else for you.

"You wanna come to mine?" he asked, his voice close to a whisper, breath fanning over your face as you wilted at the loss of his lips. You nodded, still unsure if you could form proper words, your head spinning with thoughts of him kissing you over and over again.

The drive was quick, his right hand sandwiched between both of yours as you watched the trees whir past the window. He gave you a few sideways glances, feeling his anger at your air headed coworker swirling in his stomach. But every brush of you fingers over his tense knuckles had him deflating until he was solely focused on you and your perfume and your pretty glassy eyes.

You had been in Eddie's room multiple times but most of them were to work on that school project. Only one other time had you been here after you had both admitted your feelings. And suddenly stepping into the muted lighting, eyes trailing over the myriad of band posters, piles of records and cassettes, a mountain of laundry, and his messy unmade bed had a wave of nervousness washing over you. Eddie sheepishly pulled his comforter up, haphazardly pushing a few shirts and a few books to the ground, clearing the space.

"You want a change of clothes?" he asked, pausing his movements to look at you. You blinked at him, bag already discarded by the door and nodded. You probably looked great in the polo shirt and plain jeans that your boss had you and Mikey wear for "professionalism" even though it was a gas station.

You could tell the Metallica shirt he had handed you was old because it was soft and well-worn, a few holes decorating the collar. You pulled it over your head, the material caressing your sides. You pulled on the boxers after, an unused pair he said bought in the wrong size and left to reside in the bottom of his drawer. You timidly pushed out the bathroom door, glancing down the dark hallway to where Eddie's uncle was snoring loudly on the couch before heading back to Eddie's room.

Only the bedside lamp was on now casting sleepy shadows around the room. Eddie was resting against the headboard of his bed, legs laid out, his own sleep shirt adorning his torso, rings discarded on the bedside table. His eyes found your form as you shut the door behind you, trailing up and down your clothes, his clothes, draped over your body. He had never seen anyone look so good in a T-shirt before and frankly he didn't think he ever would again. You were otherworldly to him.

Hesitantly, you crawled onto the bed, mattress dipping under your knees as you got closer. His arms instantly encircled around you, pulling you flush against him giving you no time to hesitate. You melted into him, his scent overwhelming you and his warmth fighting back the chill of the room. He pulled the duvet over the both of you, shuffling you down until you were laying before nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck.

"I was talking to Steve," he said breaking the silence, his voice rumbling into your neck making tingles run up your spine. Your arms wrapped around his torso, cheek pressing against his forehead, eyes fluttering shut as you waited for him to continue.

"He likes to give dating advice. Mostly unsolicited," he murmured, the vibrations tickling your skin. His hand trailed up your side until it found the side of your love handle peaking out from your shirt. His fingers grazed it, swirling around the velvety skin making you squirm slightly at the tickling sensation. You felt his grin.

"It's mostly all crap. All of his experience is from his shitty douchebag days. Probably why he goes on such shit dates." He pressed a kiss to your throat, his other arm tightening around your back to pull you impossibly closer. You felt your mind go gooey again at his affection.

"He did say though that," he paused and you felt him take a steadying breath, "if I waited any longer to ask you to be my girlfriend that you'd think I didn't like you anymore."

It took you a moment to move the thoughts around in your molasses mind before you processed his words.

"Which is ridiculous because even Dustin Henderson has known I've been in love with you for years," he added, fingers dipping under your shirt to draw shapes on the ridges of your ribs.

"What?" you whispered, eyes opening. His movements paused as if he himself just realized what he said. You felt him tense, hand pressing flat against your side as he let out a sigh. You pulled away from him slightly. You could tell the instant the rejection settled in his mind, his body growing tenser as he pulled back to meet your eyes. His eyes were dark, filled with hurt and worry. He tried to pull back more but your tight grip prevented him.

"You love me?" He was quiet for a moment, eyes flickering between both of yours weighing his options. You shuffled closer, grabbing his hand and placing it on your waist again, a silent command to keep drawing shapes. He softened, shifting closer as he shoved his insecurities to the back of his mind.

"If," he started, brown eyes flickering around your face, gaging every micro expression to make sure you weren't uncomfortable with his words, "If it doesn't scare you away, then yes."

He leaned in closer, breath fanning over your face, minty and cool. "If it does, then I have no idea what you're talking about." His hand squeezed your side making you let out a laugh, squirming again as a smile overtook your face. He stopped, eyes hooded as he gazed at you and your pretty smile and your warm eyes.

"Can you say it?" your voice was small, smile loosening until you were staring at him with big, vulnerable eyes. He knew then that you weren't scared. You weren't dismayed by his feelings. By the glint in your doe eyes and the way you melted at his affection, he knew you felt the same way.

"You need to answer my question first," he decided. Your brows pulled together slightly as you tried to remember what he was referring to. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your pouted lips as if he couldn't help himself. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

You felt your face flush and your pulse spike. You nodded, pressing closer hoping he would kiss you again.

"With words, baby," he insisted, hovering his lips over yours, hand moving up to stroke the swell of your cheek.

"Yes," you breathed, feeling like you might never stop blushing.

He finally leaned in and pressed a searing kiss to your lips.

"I love you," he said, hand stroking your hair back so he could kiss you deeply again and again and again, repeating the phrase between kisses like he couldn't get tired of saying it.

"I love you, too," you managed to say before he was covering your lips again, greedy for your attention.

You felt dizzy at the intensity, love drunk on Eddie and his velvet kisses and sugary words. You didn't care that it had only been three weeks and that an English project that you both barely managed to get a C on had been the catalyst. You had loved Eddie for a year and he had loved you for more and you'd be damned if you waited any longer to tell him you loved him over and over and over again.

Link to my masterlist :)

[xxtc-96xx]

I really love these three panels, i just gotta say

Huey pinning Mewtwo down after sending him through a mountain in a fairly heroic pose is awesome

Mewtwo having a look of pain and disdain almost is super captivating. Plus i love how even though he is definitely reeling from that pain i imagine, he's not knocked out

And then he still goes for a swing against Huey. He isn't down for the count and he isn't giving up

Truthfully, to me at least, the synergy stone (whatever it's called) chose probably its perfect host. Mewtwo has shown how resilient he truly is over the years and the stone only increases it 10 fold.

Although I'm willing to gamble that in the end, his resilience will be the stone's downfall

Also i joked about it but i do enjoy that the two times Mewtwo was disrespected by being pinned underfoot from a mega

He hit them with a big ol attack XD

he'd have two nickels now

[jellazticious]

Meet this chucklefuck

His name is Pascal Short for Giuseppe Pascallis Jaleppino Edvard Stefano Dimitri Jaloro Pepperman-Spaghetti

That's right, you read the surnames correctly. He is a Pepperino fankid

ramble and more drawings under the cut if you managed to survive the first part

If I had a nickel for everytime I made fankids, I would have two. Which isn't a lot but it is weird that it happened twice.

And brother? I'm happy about it jsrgksrb

Pascal is a jaloro pepper and since his parents are so shit at naming him, they straight up put his pepper type as a name. but yes, they're a real thing and they're so cute. Jaloros are just yellow jalapenos

I also tried to make him simultaneously look like a pepper and a mango to complement how Pepperman looks like an apple. but also while drawing the sprite mock ups, I realized that at a certain pose he sorta looks like a pizza slice. I win either way bfsjbgksjr

He does not want to be an artist or a chef but he does have the inherited naturality of both which landed him a job as a barista. and of course, he could only work for one place which is the Noisette Cafe. It kinda gave him a little trouble getting hired cuz 1.) Peppino does not like how his son is about to work for his rival's girlfriend and 2.) Noisette is fucking terrified of Pepperman. You think she's gonna let his son who is one foot taller work for her 😭

But still, Noisette is way too kind that Peppino forgets why he has a problem with her and Pascal is way softer than both his dads surprisingly. It's ironic how Peppino and Pepperman are these barbarians of people and their kid ended up being the forestcore aestethic. He is never beating the allegations lmao, he's gonna be THAT softboy

But don't get me wrong, he can be a combination brutal and berserk when pissed off. He still has the same strength as his dads, mind you. Mostly Pepperman's brute and Peppino's street smarts

And their patience too.

People expect him to be as manly lol but like nahh he just wanna chill and be a nerd dork

And if anyone's wondering, it was obviously Pepperman who spawned him. In the human au tho? I have a perfect answer for that lmao. ahem

My Pepperman has and always been intersex lmao. That is it, that is all you need to know how Pascal can theoretically be made

Plants being plants man, they're really weird. Pepper is simultaneously mom, dad, uncle, and aunt lmao. Tho Pas calls him both mom and dad because it would be so fucking funny and he calls Peppino papi

He's very tender mostly cuz he did not inherit Pepperman's narcissism but he did inherit that kindness that Pepperman tries so hard to hide. And of course, Peppino's anxiety and impulses.

As a kid, Peppino is the brooding hen between him and Phil. He'd be the one who double checks triple checks if it's safe to let baby Pascal do his thing.

Pepperman on the other hand, he holds baby Pas like a rubber ball. Peppino tries not to get his kid killed because of how his wife holds it 😭

Oh also in a few of em, you can see little interactions with @beefy-the-stronk's Jude. They're simultaneously cousins and siblings. Also don't question it. Just imagine there's two Peppermans gbsjbgrksj

Also Gustavo is the godfather. I only had Pascal for three days but I would die for him

Anyway, if you made it this far, I thank you but alas. That is all for now bgjsbgjksr

[boymeetswerewolf]

Sterek Week '23 // Day 1, Only Just Begun / @sterekweek-2023

"Coffee Shop" color palette

i love you for sentimental reasons i hope you do believe me i've given you my heart - Natalie Cole, "For Sentimental Reasons"

"Coffee Shop"

As Stiles made his way to the counter with the gentle sounds of jazz drifting through the shop from an antique gramophone, he pulled out three singles from his back pocket to pay for his order. His eyes were trained on Derek, the somewhat distant, non-smiling yet excruciatingly attractive owner of the shop, who went about tidying up the counter and filling up the display jars on the shelf behind him.

Before he knew it, Stiles found himself standing at the counter and quickly put on a casual smile to try and mask the anxiety brewing inside him. He'd played the scenario over in his head a hundred times while sitting in the corner sipping his coffee, yet now that he had to act it out he was all jittery... or maybe that was just the caffeine.

"Hey, Derek," he began, his voice slightly shaky. He held up the three dollars for his order but before Derek could take it, Stiles said, "I was just wondering, uh, if I could buy you a coffee?" He looked up at Derek and immediately felt frozen in place like a deer in headlights as he waited for Derek to react.

"I usually like the five dollar stuff," Derek quipped as he returned two more jars of coffee grounds to the display shelf. 

Stiles, confused for a second, looked at the three dollars in his hand and back at Derek. "Uh... oh! No, this is for you. I mean�� for me. To pay for my coffee, my order." The twin flames of mortification began to engulf Stiles' face and he was fully convinced his cheeks were as bright as a lighthouse, broadcasting his embarrassment for anyone within a five mile radius to see. 

Derek, who rarely smiled, offered Stiles a sly grin as he took the three dollars. "I know," he said softly. "You've been coming here every Wednesday - and sometimes Mondays - for the last six months and you always order a caffè misto, tall. It's $2.95 and you always tell me to keep the change, which I then donate on your behalf to the Wolf Preservation Fund." Derek took a nickel from the cash register as he placed Stiles' three dollars inside, then dropped it into the donation jar, Stiles' eyes following his every move. 

Chuckling bashfully, Stiles shifted from foot to foot. Derek's smile had caught him off-guard, but also somehow put him at ease. "Sorry," he said, not sure what he was apologising for but doing it anyway. "What I meant is I'd like to buy you a coffee sometime, if you'd like that. To get to know you better."

"And why would you want to do that?" Derek asked in return, the smile gone from his lips but still very much lingering in his eyes.

The soft music from the record player reaching Stiles' ears suddenly became familiar and he said, "For Sentimental Reasons," as he glanced in the direction of the old gramophone and the song's title sprung to mind. "I want to do it for... sentimental reasons." He looked back at Derek and suddenly the discomfort and anxiety seemed to wash away as his sincerity came through.

A half-smile returned to Derek's lips, this time expressing a softness Stiles hadn't seen before. "Well, you're in luck," Derek replied quietly. "I close up around 7pm. Maybe you should come by then, and we can have that coffee? Bring five dollars."

When Stiles overcame his disbelief that Derek said yes, he could hardly contain his excitement as he watched Derek's eyes meet with his. A moment formed between them, one they'd both remember for a long time to come. With a casual nod, Stiles replied, "Yeah, 7pm sounds perfect! I'll see you then."

The exchange was brief, but left Stiles with a newfound sense of anticipation. As he left the shop, he didn't see Derek's ears turn a bright shade of red, or the broad smile he tried to hide from the other customers. Neither of them knew this would be the start of something new, something wonderful, but it was just the beginning.

[honeysuckleharringtons]

"The Farmers' Market" ~ S. Harrington

Summary: When Steve takes Lori to the farmers' market for a day, he finds himself bumping into an all-too-familiar face.

Pairing: Single Dad!Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 878

Content Warning: mentions of food, mentions of Lori's mom, sad!Steve

Genre: mostly Fluff, a lil Angst i guess

Extra Notes: uh, none that i can think of at the moment!

Originally Written: between 10/17/2022 and 10/18/2022

Beta Read By: @dungeons-are-too-cold

honeysuckleharringtons main masterlist can be found here!

single dad!steve blurbs masterlist can be found here!

"Alright, got your basket, Lori-girl?" Steve smiled at his daughter as they began their trek.

"Mhm," she answered, nodding her head with so much force that Steve was surprised she didn't get a headache.

She gripped his hand in her left, her right hand clenched tight around the handle of her wicker basket.

Ever since Steve had found out about the farmers' market in the next town over, he'd been dying to take Lori. To Steve, nothing sounded more appealing than buying fresh strawberries and lemons for homemade lemonade and a loaf of organic French bread coated with grass-fed butter.

So, he pulled her into some overalls, made her morning bowl of Cheerios, and carried her to the car for a fun day of purchasing produce and sniffing freshly-cut flowers.

Steve held tight to her hand as they wandered up to the first booth, looking over the man's assortment of vegetables.

"Can we buy some of these, Daddy?" Lori asked, pointing to the container of yellow squashes.

He wanted to find some way to decline. Truth be told, Steve had no clue how to cook squash correctly. However, he admired his daughter's interest in trying a new food, so he pulled the money from his wallet and held it out for the stall owner.

"Here you go, little lady," the farmer smiled, placing three squashes into her basket.

"Thank you," she replied with a grin, pigtails bouncing as she headed for the next booth.

Steve followed after her, watching as she stalked up to the flower booth.

Out of habit, he picked Lori up and placed her on his hip for a better view. His voice was light—faintly coated with reminiscence and sadness—as he said, "OK, Lori-girl, you wanna pick out some flowers for Mama?"

Her lips scrunched tight as she looked over the sea of flowers, her mind racing as she attempted to pick just one kind. "Hmm, do you think she'd like the pink ones or the red ones more?" she asked, pointing to each kind.

The pink ones were dahlias, Margaret's favorites. The red ones were marigolds, which were his mother's favorite (and he'd rather not talk about that part of his life).

Tears brimmed his eyes as he answered, "I think she'll love the pink ones."

And so, the booth owner bunched up a bouquet-sized amount of the flowers, placing them in Lori's hand as she reached for them.

The shop owner smiled as she politely declined Steve's payment. "Have them, free of charge."

He wanted to argue. After all, it was unfair that she shouldn't get paid for her hard work. But, in all honesty, Steve was trying to save every nickel and dime that he could, in hopes of someday getting Lori out of that rundown apartment complex they lived in.

"Thank you," he replied in a whisper, a single tear making its way down his cheek.

Just then, a voice called from a few stalls down. "Steve! Lori!"

He quickly wiped his tears away in hopes of neither Y/N nor Lori seeing him cry. "Hey, you," he chuckled as she approached.

Y/N's face lit up as she excitedly looked over the bouquet in Lori's hand. "Woah! Those are some pretty flowers!"

"Thank you," Lori grinned. "I picked them out for my mama."

Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked over to Steve, an expression that implied betrayal. How could he not tell me? "Your mama?" she asked, making sure to allude to curiosity.

Steve knew he should've explained. After all, they'd been on three dates and he'd almost kissed her once. In fact, he was even considering asking her to go steady. So why couldn't he just explain what happened to Lori's mom?

Lori decided to tell Y/N herself before Steve managed to get any words out. "Mhm. Once a month, we take flowers to her stone. Sometimes, we even leave her presents."

Y/N's brows creased once more. "Her stone?"

"Her headstone, she means," Steve explained.

The woman felt guilty when she realized how wrong her assumption had been. "Oh," she replied lightly. "Well, I bet she'll love those flowers you picked out for her, Miss Lori."

Though she didn't say anything, Y/N could see the tears still sitting on the edge of Steve's eyelids. She wanted to reach over, to wipe them away and let him know that she was there for him.

Instead, in hopes of cheering him up, she changed the subject by motioning to her tote bag. "I was just picking up some lemons for homemade lemonade if you guys wanna come by my place when you're finished shopping. Or I can stop by your place if you want."

Steve opened his mouth to decline, but Lori spoke first. "Can she come to our house, Daddy? I wanna show her all my Barbies and stuffies."

"Baby, I-"

He stopped mid-sentence, noticing that Y/N and Lori shared similar looks of intrigue. He felt anxiety bottoming out in the pit of his stomach, but managed a, "I guess Y/N can come by for a little while if she'd like."

And with that, the three continued on through the farmers' market, the idea of fresh lemonade and an afternoon with just the three of them heavy on their minds.

Guys, I want to apologize for how long it took me to get another chapter of this posted. I've had such a hectic month but I promise, there is still so much Steve and Lori content to come for your guys!

-> Taglist: @dungeons-are-too-cold @ducky-is-dead-inside @awkotaco24 @liberhoe @princesseddie @aftermidnightwriting @manuosorioh @hereiamhereigo

[delopsia]

deeeeeel 💓💐💓 can you elaborate more on robby and reader’s reaction to rhett having so much odd shit on him? (aka rhett being the human embodiment of the bottom of a purse) 👛💕

hiiiii 💐🌼💖:D In reference to this ramble.

It's never been much of a secret that Rhett just winds up with odd things in his pockets, but it took them so long to notice? 😭

The signs were all there. Bobby's got a distinct memory of when they were all sitting in the back of Rhett's truck the night they met, and Rhett was fiddling with a stray screw he'd found in the gravel. The Reader still remembers watching him spend half a day walking around with a plastic McDonalds fork, didn't realize he even had it in hand until someone brought it up.

For a number of video calls, they both remember Rhett toying with various objects; a fidget spinner that Amy left in his room, a broken spur, a paperclip, and more beer caps than anyone can count. But it wasn't until they started living together and, more specifically began doing each others laundry, that anyone realized the extent of it.

It's hard to forget that first time Bobby called everyone into the laundry room and pointed at the array of trinkets in the bottom of the washer. Who had the five dollar bill?? Which of you had the tic tacs? And why are there three nickels, a Wabang diner gift card, a mild Taco Bell sauce packet, an oddly shaped stone and a small, squishy horse?

To be fair, the five dollar bill and the nickels belonged to the Reader, but the rest of that was all stashed in Rhett's bottomless pockets. The washing machine is like a lottery, you never know what the hell you're gonna find in there.

Bobby thinks its the funniest damn thing; sometimes he'll be needing something hyper-specific, like a very tiny screw for his glasses, and the first person he asks is Rhett. Weirdly, Rhett did have a screw. In fact, he'd found it on the floor after it jumped out of Bob's glasses, and pocketed the darn thing. The Reader was muttering about not having a bill small enough for the vending machine, and whaddaya know, Rhett had some in his front pocket.

It's the household joke; don't go to the store and buy something specific, before you go and ask Rhett 😭 sometimes if they're stuck waiting somewhere, like at a busy restaurant, Reader and Bobby will take guesses of what Rhett might be carrying on him 👛🌼

[cabyang]

moral archives fanfic i wrote for fun lol

@maxphilippa here

I should've known. It was so obvious, it should've occured to me earlier.

The way I smiled every time he smiled, the way I laughed when he laughed, the way I followed when he took the lead, the way he followed when I took the lead.

But I was oblivious to my love, and therefore his. I waved off every feeling I had as a side product of our friendship, no matter how head over heels I was.

It was only then, when he gave me the immunity milk, that I truly understood.

The way my face reddened with love, like it had many times before, although quickly undercut by the sour taste of the long since spoiled milk. The way he looked into my eyes, with a beautiful smile on his face I had always admired. It finally clicked. I was in love.

I asked him if he was sure, I mean it was his after all. If he wanted it, I would've given it right back. But he reassured me, making sure I took his gift. I looked at him with love struck eyes, and I looked at him back all the same.

My honey covered feelings made drinking the spoiled milk slightly less bad, although I was struggling to keep it down. Every chance it got, my brain wondered back to how Yinyang looked at me in that moment. My heart raced just thinking about it.

As Mephone read the votes, my mind kept coming back to the same subject. Everytime I smiled anew, like it had just happened again. My heart pitter pattered the same sped up rhythm as it did when he gave me the milk, refusing to slow down.

"Yinyang. Two votes Nickel, Two votes Yinyang."

I looked at my one and only ally with worry in my eyes. We did have the numbers to out vote Silver and Nickel, but I didn't know if anybody had made any sudden switches with Blueberry rejoining. He looked at me back seemingly even more worried. My stomach twisted itself a few more knots at the sight of his worried expression.

"Yinyang. Two votes Nickel. Three votes Yinyang."

Oh God. If everything went as planned, then we would at least force a tie. But my heart pounded in worry and I tried my absolute best to take deep breaths discreetly, which didn't help at all. I gripped the immunity milk with all my might, as if I could change the course of fate if I had a strong enough grip on the milk jug.

"And the final vote is..."

I awaited the news with baited breath.

"Yinyang! You are our fifteenth eliminated contestant."

My heart sank all the way to the sandy beach below my wheels. How could this have happened? Yinyang thought *I* was on the chopping block, that's why he gave me the immunity milk, plus we had three members in our alliance, it should've been a tie.

"Now that we know the jury decides the winner, Yinyang is just too big of a threat."

Well. I can't blame him. It is competition. People will do anything it takes to win. But my heart still ached. After everything he had done for me... eliminated. Just like that.

I quickly got over the betrayal as I refocused on something else. The fact I *loved* Yinyang. My heart shattered once again, as I struggled to not only speak but also keep my tears at bay.

"Oh, I'm so sorry your selfless sacrifice was for all for nothing."

I managed to choke out, sensing my sadness Yinyang quickly reassured me. At first I instinctively smiled at his happiness over his personal victory, but then I was painfully reminded that he'd be going away. My face twisted itself, trying to both smile and frown at the same time. It looked weird.

"Hit me as hard as you can!"

Still so excited, even whilst being eliminated. I was reminded again why I loved him. But then he was sent away all the way to Indefinite Island. Then it hit me. How could this have happened? I tried to focus on the positives, how happy he sounded about their personal victory, the smile on his face as he playfully asked Mephone to hit him. But I couldn't.

It hurt. I yearned for whom I just learned I needed, and what I just learned I couldn't contact until either I won, or eliminated. I kept my tears at bay by focusing on the silver lining, but that was all the silver lining did. Keep me from tears. I still ached for Yinyang, hoping that I had found out about my love just a second earlier, just so I could tell him I loved him the same way he loved me.

But I couldn't. I was too late. I had found out at the most inconvenient of times, and now I was to face the side effects. I rolled along the beach in the opposite direction from anyone, mourning my new found loss. I rummaged through my files, searching for any way to contact him. The only way that didn't have a success rate in the negatives was writing a message in a bottle and sending it into the ocean. It had a success rate of exactly 0.01%.

I was again reminded of still bleeding wound of my love, stabbed as soon as it was discovered. I stopped at a certain point, remembering where I was. This was the same spot Yinyang and I built that sand castle, in the down time between episodes 13 and 14. Tears welled up in my eyes about as fast as I could wipe them away.

I pulled out Yinyangs file, and my eyes quickly darting to the small image of him I taped to the side. I had taken in the morning after episode 12, the angle was slightly slanted and it was a little shaky as I kept laughing at the funny face he made towards the camera, though I did end up with a better picture later. I thought this was more fitting. A smile slowly returned to my face like the sun lazily setting over the island.

File in one hand, I used my other hand to find my red pen, searching through the neatly organized manilla folders and printer papers. Once I had found it, I got to work on his file. Slowly but surely, I drew little hearts around the image, I couldn't quite get them fully symmetrical, but I thought that was fitting.

I smiled as I put the file back into the Y section, and looked off into the sunset. It still hurt, but it was comforting that even though he wasn't here, he did love me back. I wonder if he knew I love him too, and if he was comforted by that. I knew one thing was for certain though, I was going to see him again, and that was enough to carry me through the rest of my time on the game.

[wally-the-friendly-puppet]

🍎👻WH: Casper (1995) AU👻🍎

Creator: wally-the-friendly-puppet (me)

Yes, I am making a Welcome Home AU. Not sure what to call it, probably “Wally the Friendly Puppet” or something like that.

It's an AU of the 1995 movie Casper, they are not high school kids, but instead will be college kids to age them up. Wally will take the place of Casper, and Y/N will take the place of Kat. Home will either be Carigan or Casper's father, but I'm still deciding. Im not too sure about the other characters since the three ghosts, Casper's uncles, are kinda mean. They'll probably Sally, Julie, and Barnaby; Sally being Stretch, Julie being Stinkie (she doesn't stink don't worry lol), and Barnaby being Fatso. They'll just pull pranks and not actually be mean to Wally (he means too much to me for his friends to bully him 😭)

Eddie will be Dr. Harvey, Kat's father. So, yes, he will be your father in this AU. I figured that since Eddie is kinda clumsy and a nervous wreck, he'd be perfect for this character. Frank, sadly, will be Dr. Harvey's deceased wife, Emilia (it hurts me to make Frank dead. But if I had a nickel every time in an AU that both Frank and Eddie were married, but Frank is dead and Eddie is alive, I'd have two. Which is not a lot but it's weird that it happened twice *cough* corpse puppet *cough cough*).

Howdy will be playing Ben the college boy (don't worry he's nice in this role unlike Ben in the movie). Poppy will be a teacher at the college (teaches cooking and sewing). I'll have to make an OC for the bitchy girl that I forgot her name who is rude to Kat (Y/N in this AU).

🍎👻Here's the cast!:👻🍎

Y/N-Kat

Wally-Casper

Eddie-Dr. James Harvey (Y/N's dad)

Frank-Emilia (Eddie's deceased husband and Y/N's father)

Sally-Stretch

Julie-Stinkie (she doesn't stink lol)

Barnaby-Fatso

Howdy-Ben (college student)

(WIP OC)-rude college girl who doesn't like Y/N

Poppy-College professor (teaches cooking and sewing)

Home-(WIP) (Possibly Carigan or Casper's father)

Here are the rules for this AU:

Do's ✅:

-Fanart- I'd love to see art of this AU but keep it respectful, please. If you do make fanart and want me to see it of my AU, or just of my Sona, please tag me in it and credit me as the creator of the AU.

-Ask questions if you don't understand- It's okay if you don't know something too well, don't be afraid to ask (I think the best thing for you do to is to watch the movie for yourself to understand a but more).

-Fanfiction- As I said, I would love to see different types of art with this, not just drawings and sketches. If you do make fanfiction, please tag me in it to see it and credit me for the AU.

Don'ts 🚫:

-NSFW- I am a minor and not comfortable with this. Please keep it 13+. If I catch you making any NSFW art of my AU, I will block you. The same goes for me; if I catch you drawing any NSFW about my Sona, I will block you.

-Homophobia or Transphobia- I am a part of the LGBTQ+ community. So for you to disrespect the community, you are disrespecting me as well. I will warn you not to do this, but if you don't stop, I will block you. I don't want to harm anyone of the Welcome Home fandom.

-Racism- If I catch you saying anything rude or racist or white-washing any characters (if I ever do human fanart of them), I will block you. I don't want to harm any person of a different skin tone or race in the Welcome Home fandom and in general.

-Pedophilia- I know there characters in this AU are aged up for this reason, but there will be some children characters now and then. If I catch you saying anything inappropriate about the kids, I will block you. The same goes for me; if I catch you saying anything inappropriate about my Sona, I will block you.

-Tagging- I want to be tagged in stuff about my AU and fanart, but I don't want to be tagged in anything unrelated to Welcome Home, my AU, or anything awful. Please don't do that.

(This may change later on as this AU grows more. Please follow these rules and we'll be fine 🥰)

[frodo-with-glasses]

Decisions

If I had a nickel for every time I tried to write an essay while recovering from a sinus migraine, I’d have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice, right?

Anyway, I've seen this theme popping up throughout the story and figured I'd finally write something about it. There are several instances in LotR where Tolkien puts a surprising emphasis on Choice; that is, one of the characters making a Decision, and how that effects the course of the story going forwards.

Now I think there are (at least) two different kinds of Decisions that the characters have to make.

1. "I Know What I Have to Do, but It's Going to Suck"

This is a Decision in which the right thing to do is very clear, but doing it will be difficult or unpleasant, which creates uncertainty in the chooser. Frodo hesitates at the Falls of Rauros not because he doesn't know what to do, but because he knows he has to leave the Fellowship behind, and he's dreading it. Beregond hesitates to go save Faramir, not because he doesn't know what to do, but because he knows defying Lord Denethor will make him a traitor to his lord and country, and he's dreading it.

These Decisions, while not easy, are at least simple. The choice is between doing the clear, plain, right thing to do, or chickening out and subjecting yourself to a thorough butt-kicking by your conscience for the rest of your life.

But there are Decisions in which your options are not so plain and simple, and that's where the second category comes in.

2. "Whatever I Choose to Do, It's Going to Suck"

This is the sort of Decision that we call a "lose-lose situation", where both options are going to have some form of negative consequences—with varying degrees of relative catastrophe—necessitating extra care and discernment from the chooser. The first instance of this that we see is, I think, when Sam has to choose between running after Bill the Pony or running to rescue Frodo from the Watcher at the Gates of Moria. We also see it when Aragorn has to choose between following the Ringbearer to Mordor or following Merry and Pippin, who've been captured by orcs.

This moment with Gandalf falls into Category #2. He literally has to choose between the life of Theoden and the life of Faramir. It is an "evil choice", and it ultimately causes him great grief in the end, even though he succeeds in what he set out to accomplish. It's not that Faramir's life mattered more than Theoden's; it's just that Gandalf knew that one man's life was in immediate danger, and that he could save that man, but by leaving the Witch King unchecked he could potentially be risking the lives of many others, and, unfortunately, he was correct.

Consequences

But there's an interesting thing about those lose-lose situations: sometimes, somehow, good shows up in spite of the bad.

If Sam had run after Bill instead of going back for Mr. Frodo, he would have gotten shut out of Moria. Assuming the Watcher didn't eat him, he'd have no way of reuniting with the Fellowship, and he'd be forced to make the trek back to Rivendell alone, and Frodo would lose his greatest helpmeet on the journey. In fact, if Sam had turned back for Bill, the Quest probably would've failed altogether.

If Aragorn had followed Frodo instead of Merry and Pippin, the other hobbits still might have gotten free on their own—it was Pippin's ingenuity and a little luck that saved them there, after all—but the Three Hunters would not have come to Rohan at just the time that they needed strong arms to defend Helm's Deep, nor would they have been able to hijack the corsair ships and bring reinforcements to Minas Tirith. In making the choice that he did, Aragorn not only changed the tide in two major battles to defend his people, but he also gave the unlikeliest creature ever—Gollum—a chance to guide and help the Ringbearer and potentially redeem himself.

(He refused that chance, in the end, of course, but the option was open to him, and that's what counts.)

That brings us to Gandalf's decision here. If Gandalf had not rushed to the Silent Street with Pippin, the line of the Stewards would have ended right there—and Beregond, outnumbered, probably would have been killed on the doorstep of the house. Because Gandalf made the choice he did, both Eowyn and Merry had a chance to prove their valor and their love for Theoden; and out of his grief, Eomer led an attack so fierce that it would be remembered in song.

"And so what we have learned, applies to our lives today..."

I dunno about you, but sometimes, I struggle to Choose. Weighing the pros and cons of lose-lose situations can be paralyzing; sometimes the temptation is just to sit right where you are, and make no decisions at all, for fear of making the wrong one.

But that's just the catch: if you choose not to make a Decision, you are making a Decision. You are Choosing to do nothing. If you do nothing, then nothing gets done, and both of the Bad Things might happen after all. If Gandalf had sat there deliberating on Shadowfax instead of taking action, both Theoden and Faramir would have died, and we can’t have that.

Sometimes, on matters of conscience, what we really have to do is Grow Up, Think Clearly, and Decide. And once you've Decided, you have to Commit. There's no time to second-guess yourself after you've made the Decision. Gandalf doesn’t Decide to save Faramir, swoop Pippin up on top of the horse with him, and then think to himself, “hang on, I think I’d rather go down to the battlefield instead”. No, it says “then having made up his mind he acted swiftly”. The period before the Decision is the time for deliberating and seeking out information and weighing the pros and cons; but after you've Decided, it's time to turn your attention away from "what should I do?" and towards "how should I do it?"

Of course, you can always change your mind later if new information comes in that casts your Decision in doubt, but I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about blowing around like a balloon that hasn't been tied off, for no good reason, when you’ve already done everything you can to make your Decision in the best faith possible.

James 1:6 and 8 says, "He who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind", and "Such a person is double-minded and unstable in all they do." To be double-minded is to be "unstable in mind; undecided or vacillating". People who flip-flop between one Decision and the other are like a boat that gets tossed around by waves in the middle of the sea: there's a lot of movement, but they never actually get anywhere.

Part of what makes it so hard to make Decisions sometimes is the fear that I'll be held responsible for whatever Bad Things happen because of my Decision. And sure, on Category #1 Decisions, that's all well and good, right? That fear will keep me from chickening out of doing what I know I have to do. But on Category #2 Decisions, it sucks, because Bad Things are going to happen no matter what I pick.

But these stories give me a little bit of hope. They give me hope because, even in the worst of Decisions, a little bit of good comes out—through, and even in spite of, the bad.

So, to recap, the emphasis on Decisions in Lord of the Rings has taught me three things:

Sometimes we need to, as my pastor would put it, "buck up little buckaroos" and Choose.

When we have Chosen, in the best faith possible, we must not "put our hand to the plow and then look back". No one who is double-minded ever gets a darn thing done.

Even in the worst of lose-lose Decisions—the suckiest of Category #2s—don't be paralyzed with fear. Keep a clear head, do what you need to do, and you might be surprised by how much Good comes out in spite of the Bad.

I don’t have a way to end this, so if you’ve made it this far, here’s a picture of a baby elephant:

[inej-ruination-ghafa]

PLAYING WITH THE BOYS

PART 9; ITS MAN AGAINST MAN

Warnings: making out, allusions to sex, heavy drinking, clubbing, revealing clothing, sexual dancing, they're not really warnings.

Summary: the group decide to go clubbing to solidify the new group spirit they have but the night takes a different turn when Rooster sees exactly what the girl is wearing.

Wordcount: 3.2 k

At Robins House, the girls were getting ready for the party. Halo, Phoenix and Robin had gotten close over the two weeks of the mission so far and had decided to get ready for the clubbing together. 

"God, I need a girlfriend," Halo said, looking in the mirror as she applied her mascara. 

"I think I might just get another girlfriend, it would be so much easier," Robin said as she pursed her lips together, applying her lipstick.

"What's been going on with you and Rooster? You seem close," Halo said, tying up her shoes as she finished her look. She was wearing a navy blue dress with a leather jacket over the top of it. 

"You don't know their past?" Phoenix questioned, assuming that everybody knew. 

"No, I wasn't in your year remember," she said, "I only met y'all two weeks ago. I had met Coyote and Fanboy and Omaha before but nobody else,"

Robin walked out of her walk-in closet, spinning around in her tight black dress. It was lacy and honestly scandalous but she hoped it would drive Bradley mad.

"Me and Rooster used to date, like seven year ago," she explained, fiddling with a few of the rings on her fingers, "We'd been together for 11 months and then he left and never came back. He never contacted me again," 

She didn't want to include the fact that he had shattered her heart, knowing that there could be some animosity from that. 

"That a real dick move from his part," Halo said as she put her earrings in. 

Robin shrugged, "Can't do anything about it now. I'll admit that I do still have feelings for him, but it's not gonna work out, I'm sure he doesn't feel the same way," 

Once again, she didn't mention the fact that they had made out on her porch after he had all but promised himself to her. Despite that, she was still terrified he'd leave again. 

Phoenix laughed, pulling on her jacket. She was wearing a leather skirt and a light brown blazer. "If I had a nickel for every time I caught him staring at you during training, I'd be rich," she said, raising her eyebrows at the girl. 

"I wish I had your fairytale love story, last girl I dated turned out to be a spy," Halo stated calmly. 

The two girls looked over at her in shock, "What the hell?" Phoenix questioned, eyes wide at the admission. 

"Maybe I'll explain it once I've had a few drinks," she said with a chuckle, the girls laughing together. 

On that note, they heard the doorbell go and once again, Amelia had opened it before the girls had managed to get there. 

When they got down the girl was smiling and mouthed to her sister, 'he's cute'. The guy in question was Bob who had called an uber for the four to go there. 

"Hey Bob," Phoenix said as she rushed over, her combat boots clicking against the floor. 

"Bye Amelia, tell mum I'm gonna be back late tonight, but I'll be back by tomorrow morning," she explained, picking up her shoulder bag as the other two greeted Bob. 

Amelia groaned, "Can't I come with you, he's so attractive," she said, looking over her sister's shoulder at Bob. 

Robin chuckled at her sister's small crush on the aviator, "You can't come, plus I don't, you're the right age for Bob," she said, smiling at her sister's defeated expression. 

They all got in the uber, the three girls sitting in the back whilst Bob sat in the front. He had a very chivalrous way of living and it was shown even here. He wanted to make sure the girls were safe in the uber, even if he knew they could handle themselves. 

"Do you think we should get pizza or something, I'm hungry," Halo said, Phoenix nodding in agreement. 

"We're going to a bar," Robin stated. 

"Yeah, and we need food so we don't get too drunk too easily," Phoenix suggested. 

The girls talked about food the whole way there, Bob occasionally joining in on the conversation and adding his input.  

When they got there, Bob payed the driver despite the girls protests and they were confronted by Coyote and Fritz who had been waiting outside of the club for the remaining people. 

"Hey ladies, Bob, we got a military discount, they've given us a booth," Coyote said, ushering the girls inside, "Plus Harvard and Yale couldn't make it, something about a date,"

"All in a day's work for this country," Natasha said with a chuckle, looping arms with both girls before they began to walk in, Robin grabbing Bob's hand. 

They got in and greeted everyone as the man led them to the booth in the back corner.

She began to question where Bradley was but then she heard the door open. She turned around and saw him standing there, scanning the room for the group. 

He was wearing tight blue jeans and one of his Hawaiian shirts but this time, she realised that he didn't have his vest underneath underneath everyone could see his chest. 

He sat down, the group catching up with one another quickly but his eyes were trained on Robin and the tight black dress she was wearing. 

"Hangman lost that final point, he's buying first drinks," Natasha said, the man huffing as he began to trudge off to the bar, grabbing a round of 11 shots for the group. 

When he got back he lay the tequila shots out on the table that they all sat around, the group taking their shots. 

Robin winced as she felt the hot burn of alcohol in her throat. The group slammed their glasses down again, smiles on their faces. After all the talk of the end of the world they needed this time to relax and let go, even if it's just for a while. 

After two more rounds of shots they headed out onto the dance floor, beginning to let loose and have some fun. The girls danced, Halo having found a girl in the crowd she'd taken a fancy to and now the two were dancing. 

Coyote was off trying to hit on a group of girls in the corner and they could hear him bragging about his military career. The funniest sight to the girls was Bob getting hit on by a nice brunette in the corner. 

"Should we help him?" Robin asked Natasha as they danced together. 

"Nah, maybe in a minute," she said, grabbing the girls hand and spinning her around as they danced along to the beat of the music. 

After what felt like hours of dancing people broke off, Rooster going to sit by the bar to order drinks for him, Fanboy and Bob. 

The girls were dancing when they saw the girls and Phoenix began to waltz over, acting as Bob's wingman - or wing woman. 

"Yeah, rumour has it that Bob is a good lay," Phoenix said as she heard the girls talking about Bob. 

The girl who had been flirting with Bob blushed and began asking questions, occupying Phoenix. 

Robin had moved to the wall, watching her friends as they all had fun in the club. Her eyes were drawn to Bradley who was waiting at the bar, tapping his fingers against the countertop. 

Whilst Phoenix was gone and Bradley wasn't hovering around, Hangman saw it as the perfect time to swoop in and ask her for a dance. 

"Hey, Robin, you wanna go dance?" Hangman asked, raising his eyebrows as he held his hand out for her. 

Robin looked over her shoulder, seeing some pretty blonde girl talking to Bradley. She sighed, looking back at Hangman and placing her hand in his. 

"Lead the way," she said, allowing him to take her onto the dance floor. 

Rooster had pushed the girl away, telling her that he wasn't interested but by the time that he had done that. He glanced onto the dancefloor, trying to find Rovin and when he did he wasn't happy with the sight. 

She was dancing with Hangman and the sight made his blood boil. He clenched his jaw together, realising that she was dancing with that douche. 

She could see the angry look he was giving her from the other side of the club but she continued to dance with Hangman, her head thrown back as she laughed. 

He couldn't help his eyes trailing around the black dress that she wore that rode up slightly around her thighs as she danced. 

The possessiveness peaked in him as he watched her and suddenly he had this wave of jealous wash over him. It should be him she was dancing with, him she was moving against.

His hand was tightening on his whiskey glass and his eyes were narrowed on Hangman. If looks could kill then the man would be six feet under by now. 

Natasha stood next to him at the bar and looked down at him, following his eye line to see Robin laughing as she turned around, Hangman's hands on her hips as they danced to the music. 

"You know she talks about you all the time,"

He scoffed, eyes never leaving the glass in front of him, "Yeah, and I'm sure it's about the dartboard she has with my face on it," he said humorlessly. 

The girl sighed, not understanding how dense Rooster was, "She wants you back, she doesn't want to date Hangman. She hates herself for it, but she still cares about you," she explained. 

"Don't give me hope Phoenix," he said, looking up at the girl. 

"You better get in there quick because she'll move on. This is it, she won't let you break her heart again," she said before grabbing her drinks and walking back to Halo, a grin on both girls' faces. 

He thought over the information that he had been fed. Maybe this was his chance with her, she was going to be his forever. He looked over at her again to see Robin had stopped dancing, Hangman having walked over to talk to Coyote. 

She had a wide grin on her face and there was a slight layer of sweat on her forehead from the lights in the club and from how much she'd been dancing. 

He stood up, taking a deep breath as he realised that it was now or never, he had to admit how he felt and ask her out or let her go. 

The conflict was eating him up as he walked over, his normally confident strides dulled down to a shy few steps as he approached her. 

"Hey Rooster, you come to dance?" She asked, brushing her long brown hair away from her face. 

He chuckled, a loving smile on his face as he looked at her, "Yeah, you wanna dance with me?" He asked, his smooth and confident ways back. 

"As long as you're as good as I remember," she said, wrapping her arms around his neck as his went to her waist, fitting perfectly there like they'd never left. 

"Oh I'm as good as you remember, in more ways than one," he said, shooting her a wink. 

She chuckled, face burning red at his insinuation, "You're more cocky than normal Rooster, all that tequila go to your head?" She questioned, a flirty tone to her voice that he recognised all too well. 

"No, I'm just sure what I want," he stated. 

"Oh, and what's that?" Robin asked, continuing the flirty banter that the two were having. It felt like not a day had gone by since they were 25 and 29, dancing in the club together. It just felt right. 

"I guess you'll just have to wait and see," he said with a smirk on his face. 

"Maybe I'll have to pry you with more drinks," she suggested.  

"I'll go get us some, they're on me. You still want your normal?" He asked, letting go of her to head to the bar. 

"Yeah," she replied. Her head was swimming with ideas and she was already beginning to miss the warmth of his touch. It had all felt so perfect when he had held her against him and if she was being honest, she didn't want him to let go. 

Just the idea that he remembered what her favourite drink was made her stomach turn to knots, knowing that he still thought about her. Maybe there was a chance with them. 

He walked back, holding the two drinks in his hand, passing one to her before clinking their glasses together, "Cheers," 

Once they'd finished drinking and they were both moderately drunk they went back to the dance floor, dancing against one another like not a day had passed, like they were old lovers back in their original hang out. 

She laughed and for a second Bradley swore that his heart stopped as he looked at her. He couldn't help the words that spilled out of his mouth and he wasn't sure if it was the lovesick daze he was in or the tequila shots from earlier but he couldn't help but admit his darkest secret to her. 

"I adore you," he whispered, hands on her waist as they danced to the music, his eyes on hers.

The sudden confession made the girl freeze. His regular flirty banter and cocky ways seemed to have been thrown out the window because right now hisbeyes were soft and the romantic words didn't feel right coming from him. 

Even from the year they had spent together it had been rare to have any type of affectionate words, only a few I love yous and the occasional sweet nothings whispered in her ear. 

She didn't know if it was the few shots that the group had taken earlier in the night or if it was because she'd finally come to her sense but her adrenaline and bravery peaked as she whispered, "I adore you as well," 

"Don't dance with Hangman," he said, lips pursing together as he looked at her. It was a mix between a soft lover's request and an order from the Lieutenant. 

"I only danced with him to make you jealous," the words were breathless and Robin was rarely this honest about things but right now the words seemed to just spill from her mouth and she was unable to control it. 

He smirked, hands tightening on her waist as he pulled her closer to him, pressing her against his bare chest, "and I'm here thinking you're a good girl," he said, looking down at her breathless expression. 

Her heart was pounding in her chest and all she wanted to do was grab his face and kiss him now but she couldn't do that. 

"Maybe you should teach me a lesson, what do you think, Lieutenant?" She questioned, one hand pressed against his bare chest as she traced a finger over his collarbone. 

His eyes darkened and he pulled her in, pressing her against him as he slammed his lips against hers. It was nothing like the delicate kiss they'd shared on her porch last night, it was rough and desperate like he was making up for 7 years in one kiss. 

She moaned as she tasted the tequila on his tongue, tugging him closer to her as she pressed a hand to the back of his head. She wanted to be as close to him as she could and as of right now, this was it. 

It felt perfect, like their lips slotted together like two pieces of a puzzle. His tongue explored her mouth, trying to discern if it was any different to how he remembered it. His hands roamed her body in the same way, groping at her flesh. 

He pulled away, lips trailing down her jaw and her neck, sucking and leaving light kisses along the skin with marks that would be all too obvious at the next briefing. 

But he didn't care, he wanted everyone to know that she was his and he wasn't going to be making the same mistake as last time. He wanted to claim her so that any other man knew that she was his girl. 

She whispered his name, the words coming off half as a moan and half as a prayer and he knew he could just take her here. 

The group cheered as they saw Bradley and Robin making out in the dark corner of the dance floor, all ready to get their teasing ready. 

The two adults turned to one another, foreheads pressed together as they relished in the aftermath of the kiss. 

"You wanna get out of here?" He asked, breathing heavy as he clung to her like she was his lifeboat and he was a drowning man. 

"Yeah, you can come back to mine, mum's out," she said, pressing another kiss to his lips. 

He tried to deepen the kiss but she pulled away with a chuckle, leaning forward and whispering in his ear, watching as his face went red at the comment she had made. 

"Take me to bed or lose me forever," She stated almost breathlessly, looking into his eyes.

"Yes ma'am," he said, a lovesick smile on his face as he looked at her. He'd realised what great things he had with her and he wasn't prepared to let it go again. 

"Have fun lovebirds," Hangman called out as the two walked out hand in hand, heading towards the exit, Bradley being quick to call a cab. 

"I can't believe she just ditched us for some guy," Halo said jokingly, looking at Natasha. 

"Yeah, but he's not just some guy, they're soulmates," she said, smiling as she saw her friend stumble out, hand landing on Bradley's bare chest.

After the events of the evening, they finally arrived at Robins house and the man was all too ready to go to the next level with the girl of his dreams. 

It had been seven years since he'd been with her like this and honestly, no girl had ever compared to her; but he'd never admit that to her. 

"Where's your family?" He asked as she opened the door, looking around. 

"They're at this family thing, probably won't get back till midnight," she explained as she locked the door, turning to look at Bradley. 

He smirked, checking his watch, "That gives us just over an hour, I mean, if you still want this," 

She chuckled, walking over and wrapping her arms around his neck, leaning up, "Course I do," she said, pressing her lips against his. 

Blindly she maneuvered him around the house and up the stairs to her room, his lips never leaving her body; whether they were trailing down her neck or pressed firmly against her lips. 

She kicked her door open, pulling her short black dress off as soon as she got in, watching as his eyes widened as he looked at her. Robin smirked and before she knew it, he had pushed her onto the bed. 

She laughed as she looked at him, his body towering over hers, "God I missed you," he said, hands on her thighs as he moved back slightly. 

"I missed you too," she said, knowing that she was going to be in for a bumpy ride. 

Series Masterlist Part 10

A/N, this was a super fun chapter to write but now I don't remember what scene comes next *facepalm* so I'm gonna try to figure that out. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, your support means so much to me.

Taglist:

If you want to be added just message me or send me an ask or comment, I don't mind.

@n3ssm0nique @sparrows-corner @littlewhiterose @serrendippity @clairejpg @marytvirgin @uglyratlmao   @blessupblessup  @daniekay7190 @callistoluvsleep @hockeypuckspost @sydneejean @ipractical-joker @storyteller-le @mmkkzz @theforevermorereject @anolddayslover @rosemarytownescarter @lilbalfie @dcamelia @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @maggiescarborough

[outofthiisworld]

@5mind [OPERATION PROTECT OLD MAN]: SUCCESS

[🧪] If this old geezer had a nickel for every time he narrowly avoided the toll of death's knell, why— he'd give the richest man in the world a run for his money.

Doc hardly had any time to react, let alone notice the rushing assailant until after it was all said and done. Until after his automaton companion pulled him to the side and stood tall as an unstoppable shield of metal and wires. Until after scrap metal shot and tore through machine FLESH like wet tissue.

It was silent, other than the heavy thud of a corpse dropping to the ground. Doc gripped his chest, almost as if his heart may jump out if he hadn't. Then, relief.

"Hey. Thank you," Doc broke the silence with a sigh and patted Yellow Three's arm that still shielded him. "Anything moving that fast couldn't have been good news— not in my experience."

Was Doc comforting Yellow, or himself? Hard to tell— but it wasn't the first time a quick decision had to be made, and it wouldn't be the last.

"C'mon, lets get this body taken care of— before any more wackos get any more bright ideas."

[incorrect-crossover-quotes]

None of the group wants to believe Ash.

Ash was basically the little brother that they all wished they had. His smile was infectious, he would (and did) give a complete stranger the clothes off his back, he's funny, he's completely dorky in the absolute best ways. Sure, he is a little oblivious at times, but everyone found it appealing!

That's why when Ash said that he had died multiple times, the entire conversation came to a screeching halt, and ice was flowing through their veins for a brief moment.

Kim was stunned as she tried to imagine what could have possibly happened to this ray of sunshine in front of her. Ash's world, despite the superpowered monsters that practically co-run it, was fairly calm from what she's seen. She simply couldn't comprehend any situation arising that would put him in that much danger. Sure, there were those three Team Rocket guys, but Ash already shown that they are basically an annoyance to him by now, so it couldn't be them. And to think, he said it happened MULTIPLE TIMES!

Steven went pale upon the discovery. Not only because he's had enough of the people he loves being put into danger. Not only because he sees Ash as precious and must be protected. It's also because he's surprised by how casually Ash brings it up. Steven still gets woken up in cold sweats by some of the things that happened to him and his friends throughout his life. If he had a nickel for every time someone got hurt and Steven blamed himself, he would have enough to pay for therapy. Yet, here's Ash, big grin on his face, petting Pikachu without a care in the world, casually mentioning that he has died a bunch. Steven is simultaneously jealous of Ash's ability to shrug that off, and terrified by it.

Ruby immediately began to rapid fire question him, and check him for injuries that she never would have thought he had. The vision of Ash dying isn't something she would ever want to see, yet it was playing in her mind over and over again. She knew Ash, so she knew that he probably almost died during some selfless act of heroism before he could even answer any of her questions. She has had enough of her friends dying that way. If it was anyone else, she would have tied them up and kept them in a locked room where nothing bad could ever happen again. However, this was Ash. If she tried that, he'd probably just escape and be right back to doing what he was doing.

After the initial shock, Ben was mostly just impressed. He had died and came back a time or two, but that was because he had the most powerful device in his universe to keep him alive. From what he gathered, Ash was just a normal kid! Maybe it's because he's more numb to death than the others, but he honestly felt proud of Ash more than anything! Don't get him wrong, he still was concerned for him, and if anything ever happened to Ash, Ben would be dialing up Alien X before his brain could process it, but he still couldn't help but feel like the father he didn't know Ash didn't have.

Needless to say, they all made an agreement to keep a much closer eye on their youngest member. And possibly putting him on a leash.

[earhartsease]

what's the most autistic achievement you've ever made? we'll start (sorry bit of a long story coming now - read on if you want a small heap of casual woodwind instrument knowledge)

it's spring of 1985, we're *counts* 22 years old and in our first year of an intense af course learning to make and repair woodwind instruments (which we will a year later tumble out of due to getting ME/CFS, as it turned out)

anyway, one of our old friends (well we'd known each other since we were 11 so) asked us to service her father's bass clarinet - if you're not familiar with those, they look thus

and they're played almost exactly like your normal Bb clarinet that you might have seen or played in a school band, but all an octave lower

the important part here is all that keywork

like there's just a lot of it - and the keywork was what brought the instrument to our tiny college workshop desk

because what happened was this was a pretty nice bass clarinet, and it had silver plated keys (often on the more basic/cheaper instruments the keys will be nickel-plated), and he'd put one of those classic yellow duster cloths you get in the case to wipe the instrument down with, and the cloth had come from china and had some kind of chemical in it that basically took some of the silver off the keywork it was pressed against

we showed the instrument to our repairing tutor and he was keen for us to do the work on it - which meant not only giving the thing a full service and repadding the keys (they have little pads under the cups which press against the edges of the holes underneath to make a seal - on standard clarinets back then they were either synthetic or handmade with fish bladder skin of all things, but on posher ones or bass clarinets they used white leather pads sorry long parenthesis) but also to strip off all of the keywork and get it replated

bloody hell this is getting long

anyway we did this, so before tweaking everything that needed tweaking we took off all the keys, and unscrewed all the pillars that are set into the wood (african blackwood, dalbergia melanoxylon) of the instrument's body, and strung them carefully in order on a steel wire to send off for replating

we were off college for a couple of weeks because of the fucking fatigue, and when we got back the guy who'd sent the metalwork off for us for replating looked sombre and handed us a box - the plating had come back beautifully done, but "I'm afraid the wire broke" and all of the pillars and posts were just in a jumble in the box - and there's two of these things for each key or lever or whatever, it's like over 50 of them (from the top and bottom halves of the instrument, which comes apart for storage) - and they're each unique, each can only go in one specific place because they're all different heights and so on

and we looked at them, and they looked at us - and then we cried havoc and let slip the dogs of autism, and worked out by means of jigsawlike logic and memory and sense and got it all back together - this took us three weeks, and when we showed our tutor and the class we got a huge round of applause, and he admitted he didn't think it could be done

now we feel a bit stupid writing about this, but can you imagine the fucking satisfaction involved in this?! like putting together a watch that someone else had taken apart and handed you in a teacup

so, we also want to introduce you to the bass clarinet sound if you're not familiar - first the godsdamn king, Eric Dolphy

and here's it being played beautifully and lyrically with some Bach originally for cello - we literally just found this and are in love

thank you for indulging our autism, we hope you learned new things you enjoyed learning - now tell us yours if you want to?