#i miss my leafy greens

[flashhwing]

I love when I tell people I’m from Colorado and they’re like “oh Colorado’s gorgeous” oh buddy not where I grew up. I still think any area with non-planted trees feels exotic

[deakyjoe]

Absolution

Pairing: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader (afab, fem)

Category: smut, sex pollen

Summary: Obi-Wan really should have let his curiosity go and avoided that flower.

Warnings: 18+, smut (!!), sex pollen, slight dubcon (because of sex pollen but all consensual), unprotected p in v sex, master kink, slight sub!obi-wan, slight dom!reader, reader talks obi-wan through it basically, suggestions of inappropriate use of a lightsaber, virgin!obi-wan, religious guilt, hints of reader’s past feelings, reader kind of ignores some Jedi rules, kissing, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, a lot of talks of fluids I feel, slight angst I guess, let me know if I missed anything!

Word count: 4.9k

A/N: Happy May the Fourth! Happy Star Wars Day! Wrote an Obi-Wan fic last year so thought I’d keep up the tradition this year as well. It’s not the best thing I’ve ever written, certainly not the best smut, but I did end up rushing it a little to get it posted today so… sorry! This is for @lightwxlker who I told about this over lunch at uni <3 (feel free to read but please never look me in the eye again if you do). Can’t wait to see you later to see The Phantom Menace!!

Consider buying me a coffee :)

Absolution:

(Noun)

Formal release from guilt, obligation, or punishment.

Declaration that a person’s sins have been forgiven.

It felt like you'd been trekking through the dense forest for days. Really, it had only been a few hours. But with no end in sight, and Obi-Wan's continuous promise of almost there, you were convinced that the two of you had been lost for about a week.

The Jedi had told you that you were in search of a hidden community that had answers to some questions that the Council had about... something. You didn't know. You rarely paid attention when Obi-Wan explained these things. As much as you respected him, these briefings started to sound the same after a while. It was the thing he reprimanded you for most often.

"Can we-" You wheezed. "Can we stop for just a minute?"

"Soon." He called over his shoulder simply, pushing aside a leafy branch for the both of you to pass through.

You considered pushing him over, tripping him up maybe, and even just stabbing him with your lightsaber. Just to have a break for a moment. It was unclear how he managed to walk through dense forest for hours on end without even a hint of fatigue peeking through. You envied him for it.

Luckily, your prayers were answered when a clearing appeared. It was small, sheltered by the canopy of trees above you, but it was a good place to stop. You didn't even have to say the word, Obi-Wan already knew what you wanted.

"Fine, rest here for a moment." He sighed, pointing at a rock.

You collapsed quickly, thankful for the brief reprieve, and watched as the Jedi made a slow circle around the clearing. He was inspecting every little thing there was to see. If there was one thing you had in common with the man, it was your curiosity and thirst for knowledge.

"Rather fascinating." He mumbled to himself, ignoring the burning of your stare on his back as he moved, poking at a fungus of some kind with the tip of his finger.

"Be careful. It might be poisonous." You warned, stretching out your legs in front of you.

"I know my living organisms." He replied steadily, pulling up and moving on to the next one.

It was a flower. Rather large, with pinkish petals and an indigo centre extending on from a bright green stem. It looked vaguely familiar to you. You racked your brain, thinking about the botany books you'd spent your spare time reading when Obi-Wan had insisted that you should know more about the planets you were constantly visiting.

Nothing was coming to you. Maybe you hadn't seen it in one of those books. Your head tilted as you watched the Jedi stroke gently at the petals with the backs of his fingers, mumbling about how it felt soft, and something came back to you when the flower seemed to move of its own accord.

"Get back." You shot up from the rock you were previously sitting on and took a quick step towards him.

"It's fine." He insisted, not looking at you - too entranced by the flower as he continued to caress the petals. He didn't know this one. He found it intriguing.

You remembered where you'd seen the flower before. A book hidden deep in the archives, where you ventured when you knew no one was looking, part of a collection of things that the Jedi were not supposed to have interest in.

Your pace picked up as the flower curled in on itself, the fleeting look of disappoint clear on Obi-Wan's face, reaching for his shoulder to wrench him back.

"No! Obi-Wan, stop!"

But it was too late.

As you made contact with his robes to pull him away, the flower blossomed open. A bright cloud of purple pollen burst out and coated the two of you, settling itself over your skin and infiltrating your lungs, and therefore your blood stream, as you breathed it in.

You coughed, scrubbing at yourself to try and get it off. But you knew you were past that.

The Jedi turned to you, surprised to see the panic in your eyes. "It's just flower pollen, nothing a little water won't wash away."

Your voice was shaky as you spoke. "What have you done?"

He frowned and glanced back at the plant. It wasn't one he recognised, granted, but he also hadn't been warned of anything dangerous in this area. So he really wasn't concerned. "I don't understand. What's wrong?"

"It's a flos venerem." You whispered. "We need to find shelter."

As you turned around in a slow circle, trying to decide which way you were more likely to find somewhere to figure everything out, Obi-Wan watched you with a curious gaze.

"And what is a flos venerem?"

You scoffed over your shoulder at him. "Do you ever read?"

You knew it was an unfair question considering the place you'd read about the flower wasn't one he, or any other Jedi, frequented but you were angry and frightened. Angry at him for not listening to your warnings. And frightened for yourself since you knew what the flower was going to do to you.

He looked on as you closed your eyes, feeling out with the Force. "Now is not the time to insult me. Tell me."

You whirled on him. "It's an aphrodisiac. A powerful one. And if we don't find shelter soon then you're going to be doing some strange things to these trees."

Obi-Wan frowned, puzzled by what you were saying. "Is there a cure?"

You laughed humourlessly, turning away from him again. "Is there a cure? Is there a cure, he asks. Ha!"

"An antidote?"

"No, there's no antidote." You hissed.

The effects of the pollen were already weighing on you. You imagined Obi-Wan was also feeling something as well, just unaware of it. At least you knew what you were supposed to be feeling. The Jedi Knight had no idea.

Your mouth felt dry, like sand on your tongue, and your skin was hot to the touch. A dull headache was forming at the base of your skull too and you knew these sensations would only get worse if you didn't do what the flower wanted you to. There really was only one way to fix it. But you couldn't find it in yourself to tell your companion the solution. You were ignoring the heavy feeling in the base of your abdomen.

Sensing your apprehension wasn't overstated, Obi-Wan pointed back in the direction you'd come from. "There was a cave a little while ago. We can go there and you can tell me more about this... aphrodisiac flower."

You only nodded, lacking the strength to tell him that you wouldn't be able to listen to his voice out of fear of what bodily responses that would cause in you. Your existing attraction to Obi-Wan would only be increased by the influence of the plant. And you were scared what you'd do, or what you'd suggest, to ease the feelings.

You started marching in the direction the two of you had come from, jumping away from Obi-Wan as he fell into step beside you and his shoulder brushed yours.

"Keep- keep your distance for a while." You muttered, pushing away the lick of heat that had shot through you at his proximity.

He frowned back at you, feeling bad for making you so clearly uncomfortable. "My apologies."

"It's okay. I'm just-" You cut yourself off with a groan.

Obi-Wan's stomach lurched at the sound. "You're just what?"

"The flower is making it difficult to be next to you." You turned your head away from him, desperately trying to breathe in the clean forest air and nothing else. But all you could smell was him. The scent was so strong that you could practically taste him, his skin, and it was making your mouth water.

"You're already feeling the effects of the flower?" He hummed, pondering. "I feel nothing so far."

It wasn't true. But he was completely unaware of what he was feeling. He put the dry mouth and headache down to minor exhaustion, the hike through the forest finally catching up with him. And the stirring he was feeling... down below was foreign. The Jedi secretly believed that maybe he was immune to the flower's influence.

He was severely wrong.

You glanced back at him, instantly looking away when you caught his wide-eyed gaze. His eyes were so blue, so familiar.

You marched ahead of him, ignoring his quiet protests as you urgently sought out the cave. It came into sights quickly and your pace picked up, practically running towards it now. When you reached it, you discarded your top layer of robes, the heat your body was producing making it feel as if you were melting, and left your lightsaber by the entrance to the stone shelter. You feared what you may do with it when the flower's effects got even worse.

Obi-Wan followed closely behind you and watched with curious attention at your actions, slightly puzzled when you made your way towards the back of the cave and sat down facing the wall.

"Sit over there." You pointed over your shoulder to a spot far away from yourself. "I need to think."

"Trying to remember an antidote?" He asked, wondering what there possibly was to think about right now. And without his help as well.

"Sure." You sighed, closing your eyes as you took a deep breath. You weren't thinking about an antidote since you knew there wasn't one. You were considering your options. Even though you knew they were limited. Very limited.

He trusted your word however, which was mildly foolish of him, and took a seat where you'd instructed him to do so. He kept his gaze on you, fixated on the back of your head, as he observed your breathing pick up and then slow back down several times of the course of a few minutes.

What Obi-Wan failed to notice was how his breathing was in tune with yours, increasing when yours did and lowering when yours did.

It didn't escape him though when the flower's influence started to manipulate his body even more. The dry mouth, dull headache, rapid heartbeat, and hardened dick were becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. And Obi-Wan couldn't stay in denial for much longer.

So he called out your name.

Big mistake.

You jumped at the sound, having to bite your tongue to prevent noise slipping from your lips, and glanced at him over your shoulder."Yes?"

"I believe the flower is finally setting in." He decided that was the best way to put it and not that the sight of you was making him think things he hadn't even considered since he was a lot younger.

You looked at him silently for a second too long, eyes flicking downwards before moving back up to meet his again. "Meaning?"

His brows creased for a moment. "You know."

You did. So you turned back towards the wall and stared at it. "I'm thinking really hard about it, okay? I'll work something out."

Lies.

Time progressed slowly, moving at a sluggish pace that had you wanting to claw your way out of the cave in temporary insanity, and you could hear Obi-Wan's condition growing steadily worse by the minute.

You were finding it a lot easier than him to control yourself, probably due to your more extensive knowledge on the subject of simple carnal pleasure. But Obi-Wan was losing it.

You kept your eyes focused on the stone in front of you, desperately trying to ignore the sounds that Obi-Wan was making behind you. The breathless whimpers that were leaving his mouth were heavenly to your ears, creating a pulse that shook through your body regularly. Despite the sounds making you feel good, it was getting harder and harder to stop yourself from giving in and crawling over to him. Especially since you could hear him tearing off at least one layer of his clothing.

"Obi-Wan, please be quiet." You whispered, just loud enough for him to hear.

To the Jedi your voice sounded husky, tempting almost. "I cannot help it. Please help me."

His voice was desperate, almost whiny, as he begged you for some sort of assistance. If only he knew what that assistance was.

You squeezed your eyes closed, resting your face in your hands. "I'm trying."

It was a lie. You knew that nothing could be done. The passage from the book you'd read about the flower had been very clear. Death was inevitable. Unless you engaged with someone... intimately.

It was the only method that would get your bodily reactions to calm down. If not, the next few days would be painful for the both of you. You'd be extremely aroused the whole time, heart racing at a million beats per minute, sweat would pour out of you and cause severe dehydration that would be impossible to remedy, and finally your body would give up from the sheer exhaustion of trying to handle it all. Then, you'd drop dead.

Just how exactly were you supposed to voice that to Obi-Wan, the man who'd boasted about his ability to follow the Order's rules for years, that the only way for the both of you to survive this was to sleep together? And how were you supposed to recover from possibly finally having the man you'd wanted for so long for just one night and then never again?

"I can sense that you're keeping something from me."

Your head snapped up at his statement. He was correct, sure, but you hadn't expected him to pick up on it in his state.

So you turned around to look at him, legs crossed in front of you and back against the wall to keep yourself as far from him as possible.

"There is one solution that I know of." You confessed, still thinking of a way to tell him.

"Just tell me. I know it's troubling you. It's okay." Obi-Wan's tone was soft and comforting.

You took a deep breath in. "You won't like it."

"Do we have a choice?"

You let the breath out again. "Death."

He released a tired and humourless chuckle. "I can assure you that I'll prefer whatever solution you have to death. So tell me."

You debated what words would spook the Jedi less. Were you clinical and informative? Or soft and subtle? The sweat dripping from his temple, begging to be licked away by the tip of your tongue, was telling you to be harsh and raw with him.

Your gaze fixed on his mouth. "We have to have sex, Obi-Wan. Multiple times probably." The last part was added on for emphasis, meant to draw a reaction out of him.

He gave it to you. His already flushed cheeks reddened some more, eyes darting away from yours momentarily. It's not that the antidote was unexpected, he figured that it would lead somewhere like this considering the two of you had been contaminated by an aphrodisiac, but he thought maybe that there would be another solution. Or that you'd at least beat around the bush a little more.

Obi-Wan didn't know how to tell you that he'd never done something like that before so wouldn't even know where to start.

Little did he know that you were already well aware of that fact.

"I'll guide you through it." You paused. "But once we get started I don't think you'll need much guidance. The effects of the pollen will probably lead you."

His eyes snapped back to you, a frown pinching between them. "And what do you know of it?"

"Obi-Wan..." You mumbled, tilting your head down slightly to give him a meaningful look.

He didn't look thrilled at the notion.

You scoffed, annoyance bubbling at his obvious judgement. "We all have a past."

He knew what you meant. Sure, everyone had a past. He just didn't realise you had that sort of past. Still, he realised he had no place to pass judgement against you.

Heat pulsed between your thighs at the sudden wide-eyed apologetic look he was giving you. A groan rumbled in your chest and you squeezed your eyes shut.

"I see that this is hard for you." He whispered and you attempted to hold back a laugh thinking that this probably wasn't the only thing that was hard. "So, how about you come over here and... show me what we have to do."

You looked back at him, surprised by the boldness he was showing. Yes, he wasn't a shy man by any means but you thought he'd have been a bit less confident in this situation. Or maybe the whole thing would just be so meaningless to him that he thought it'd be easy.

Obi-Wan could feel random muscles in his body clenching as you stared at him. He'd never felt like this before. He'd always known that you were beautiful, it was impossible to ignore, but he'd never thought much else of it. But now? He couldn't do anything else apart from think about it.

You slowly pushed yourself up from your seated position and fell onto your hands and knees, too tense to stand up, and made your way towards him steadily. He was surprised to find himself practically buzzing at the sight of you crawling towards him, a ravenous look on your face. You stopped about a foot in front of him, looking up into his eyes through your eyelashes.

A hand reached out for you.

You took it.

With his help, you settled yourself over Obi-Wan's lap, a leg either side of his thighs so you straddled him. You didn't let your weight rest on him just yet, wanting to check in quickly to make sure he was okay. It was taking everything in your power not to start touching him all over despite your overactive brain basically screaming at you to do so.

His eyes moved rapidly, taking you in as he searched across your body. A hand landed on either of your hips, encouraging you to move closer to him. So you did, chest pushing slightly against his and weight pressing into his lap as you sat down. The both of you let out a sigh at the contact, pain eased for just a few moments.

It was then that you noticed you'd sat on something extremely hard.

"Is that a lightsaber in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?" You chuckled, about to reach down to remove the weapon from the inside of his robes.

But Obi-Wan's eyes flickered over your shoulder to somewhere behind you. Slowly, you turned to see what he was looking out, a small pinch between your eyebrows, and saw where you'd discarded your own lightsaber earlier. What you were surprised to find was his lightsaber resting up against a rock beside yours.

"Oh." You croaked and looked back at him, eyes shooting to his crotch for a brief moment. "You are just happy to see me."

"The flower." He grumbled lowly.

Your heart fell momentarily, your face along with it, before you recovered and looked downwards towards his chest. "Right, of course."

Realising he'd made a fatal mistake, Obi-Wan placed a finger under your chin and tilted your head up to make eye contact again. "A combined effect of the flower and... you."

Your mouth dropped open for a second, dazed by his statement, before a smile blossomed along your face. "There was one thing I forgot to mention."

"And what was that?" His eyes were fixed on your mouth now.

"The flower's effects are stronger and fast acting if you are already attracted to the person you're with at the time of exposure." You leaned towards him closer, the tips of your noses brushing against each other. "I expected to feel the influence at least an hour or two before you did, Master."

A soft sound, somewhere between a moan and a whine, escaped his lips at the use of the title. It surprised you, you hadn't thought he'd be into that kind of thing. You didn't give him a chance to give you a real response though, the noise he'd just made finally pushing you over the edge.

You cupped his face in your hands and kissed him, thumbs swiping over his cheeks to wipe the purple pollen away. He let out another sound at that, this one more shocked, but equally as unrestrained. Your mouth opened just in time to catch it and swallow it against your own moan at finally feeling his lips melding with yours.

Usually, in the past, you’d have some sense of patience in this situation. But it’s like the feeling of his skin under your palms and his lips against yours, your tongue in his mouth, sent the pollen vibrating in your bloodstream. And before you knew it, your hands were tearing at his clothes, absolutely desperate to get them off.

And while Obi-Wan was a little more hesitant than you, inexperience slowing him down, once he felt how eager you were he could only join in on the action. His hands were soft, almost silky, like they hadn’t ever seen a day of hard labour in his life, and they sent warm bursts of electricity through you as they slid against your skin.

All barriers between you were removed in less than a minute, although time seemed to be flying now that you’d actually gotten beyond just staring at each other and ignoring all feelings your body had been screaming at you to address.

“Do you know what comes next, Master?” You questioned, wondering how out of practice he really was.

Obi-Wan seemed to pause, taking a long thought, before saying anything. “I’ve never done this before.”

“I know.” You said and he seemed both embarrassed and surprised. “That’s not what I was asking. Do you know what happens?”

“I’ve heard things.” He admitted slowly.

Up until this point you’d been trying to avoid looking down at his naked body. Sure, the two of you had been pretty enthusiastic in taking the other’s clothes off but neither of you had verbally stated what you were comfortable with actually doing. That didn’t mean you couldn’t feel every inch of him pressing against you though. Somehow in the tumble of robe removal, you’d slid forward on his lap which had caused your torsos to connect. And you hadn’t bothered to move back again.

You searched his face for any sign of discomfort, finding none. “Can I touch you?”

He sputtered. “You already are.”

“No-“ You took a deep breath. “Can I touch you… down there?”

You were hesitant to say certain words to him, cringing at just the thought of them coming out of your mouth and entering his ears. You shouldn’t be shy about this, having done this countless times before. But now you were doing it with Obi-Wan, someone you admired with the deepest affection, it felt different. A good different but different nonetheless.

“Oh.” The flush he’d been sporting across his face stretched to meet the tip of his ears and you reached up to tuck some hair back away from them. “Yes, you can.”

You could see that the lust the flower caused had taken over all rational thought as his irises, usually so blue and bright, had been consumed by his pupils dilating. Was this a good idea, you silently wondered? Did he truly want this? Or was the flos venerem speaking for him?

Before you had the chance to ponder over that even more, the animal instincts in your brain took over and your hand was wrapping around his, pretty sizeable, cock.

He hissed at the sensation of your warm palm touching him and you observed his reaction with hungry curiosity. You liked the way his eyes fluttered closed and his teeth sunk into his bottom lip, the way his head snapped back against the cave wall and he didn’t even seem to notice that it should’ve hurt. He was too absorbed in the pleasurable way that you were touching him.

You were touching him.

Obi-Wan felt as if he were flying amongst the stars.

Your hand slid up and down his length, taking in every minor reaction he gave you to see what he liked. The answer was: he liked all of it. No matter the pace of your strokes, the pressure of your squeeze, or the angle of the twist, Obi-Wan revelled in it all.

Every sound he made caused what felt like a flood to pour from between your thighs, skin prickling with flames of desire. You increased the speed of the pumps against his shaft, feeling him twitch in your hand. Obi-Wan started babbling to himself, something you couldn’t quite understand but realised were certainly happy mumblings. It didn’t take much more until he was orgasming, cum spurting out of him in hot ropes and coating both of your stomachs.

You weren’t surprised to see that he remained hard. At least the botany books hadn’t lied to you about the multiple times thing.

“Need you inside me now, Obi-Wan.” You whispered, pleased when his eyes seemed to spark with something akin to excitement. Pushing yourself up slightly, you took him in your hand again and aligned him with your entrance. Notching him against you, you inched down onto him slowly, feeling your hips stutter willing you to go faster, and watched his face scrunch up in pleasure.

“Does that feel good?” You asked despite knowing the answer. You just wanted to hear him say something, even a noise of approval would work for you.

He nodded rapidly and whined. “Yes, yes.”

Pleasure rocketed up your spine, walls clenching around him and he whimpered again. His hips bucked up underneath you and your eyes rolled back in your head.

He did it again.

You came.

A shocked laugh escaped your throat as the orgasm rippled through. You hadn’t realised it would be that easy but given that you’d denied yourself any friction and stimulation for way too long considering the situation you were in, it only made sense.

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened. “Did you just-?”

“Yes.” You sighed and rocked your hips against his, thighs still trembling with the aftershock.

“Stars-“ He gasped, head falling forward to bury his face in your neck. You smiled at the feeling of his beard scratching against your skin and moved faster.

Time became a haze, multiple orgasms rolled into a blur, and before you know it you felt like you couldn’t move anymore. Your legs ached, your body dripped with sweat and your breathing was shaky and uneven.

But you were determined for one more.

Obi-Wan gasped about it being too much but couldn’t stop himself from continuing to thrust up underneath you. Which you were thankful for considering you could feel your thighs cramping up and barely managing to support your weight. His arms locked around you, trapping you against him, as he pounded into you urgently like he was chasing something. He was really. And you could understand.

“Come on, Master, just one more.” You murmured against his temple.

It took only those words of encouragement for Obi-Wan to spill inside you once again, the feeling of that setting you off as well. And finally the two of you relaxed, the pollen’s effects wearing away.

The two of you sat against each other breathless for a moment before you eased up off of him and settled beside him. He immediately collapsed against you, sliding down until his head met your lap. You placed a hand in his hair as his breathing slowed down to a normal pace.

Now that the high had passed, guilt was setting in.

“What have I done?” Obi-Wan croaked, burying his face against your thighs.

You froze, knowing you should be feeling this same shame but not finding it in yourself to care. At least not right now. “It’s okay.”

“No!” He almost wailed. “I broke- I broke rules. Sacred Jedi code.”

“You had no choice. It was either that or death.” Tears stung at the backs of your eyeballs, willing yourself not to crack and break down. He needed you to be strong. “There was no other way.”

He knew you were right, a small seed of relief buried deep in his chest. He didn’t have another choice. But then there was another matter…

You continued to try to make him feel better. "The council will forgive you, Obi-Wan. It couldn't have been helped."

The Jedi could only nod in reply. That wasn't what worried him anymore, your logical argument had been enough to reassure him of that. What did worry him is how much he wanted it to happen again.

He glanced up at you. "What about you? Can you forgive me?"

You paused, hand stilling against the side of his head. "There's nothing to be forgiven."

"Please." He whispered against your skin. "Please just-"

It hurt you to hear the break in his voice. A man, usually so confident, reduced to this. All because of something out of his control.

You took a deep breath, stared straight ahead at the cave wall opposite you, tears in your eyes and a hand combing through his hair. "I forgive you, Obi-Wan."

A/N: I listened to Star Wars ambience on YouTube as I wrote most of this. Hope you enjoyed!

[akariamai]

Claws, Blades, and Botanical Love

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Mutant!OC

Word Count: 1642

“Where are we going?” Logan asked in a steely tone as Wade forcefully shoved him into the discolored and slightly wrecked stolen car. It had been a day since the small celebration of the multiverse was saved and now, Wade was forcing him into another adventure.

“Listen up, my little honey badger of doom and gloom, we’re about to inject some much-needed joy into those dead fish eyes of yours. Seriously, would it kill you to crack a smile for all the lovely readers out there? They’re lying in bed, wide awake, thinking about your mopey ass at 2 in the morning. Give ‘em a little something to dream about, will ya?” Wade finished with a boop on Logan’s nose.

“What the fuck are you yapping about?” Logan snapped, slamming his fist onto the headliner of the car.

“Chill your claws, Logan. So there I was, doing my little multiverse hopscotch, trying to find the you that’s not you but is still you—don’t think too hard about it. And guess what? Every single one of you grumpy furballs has the same weak spot. I mean, color me shocked when I find out Wolverine’s out here simping hardcore for a mutant angel, Mother Nature herself with all her leafy green goddess vibes.” Wade paused, turning the engine on, before continuing, “And oh, wouldn’t you know it? She’s your soulmate, bub. Yep, the big bad Wolverine falling head over claws for Mother Earth. Who knew you had it in ya? And for my grand finale after saving the multiverse, I asked the TVA to track down your leafy soulmate right here in this universe. I know, I’m a hero. Now, where’s my applause, Logan? Or, you know, a little thank you pegging wouldn’t hurt either. Your call!”

Logan absorbed the information in silence. He gripped the side of his seat, knuckles turning white and claws threatening to come out, as the weight of the words spoken sank in. His breath hitched — a soulmate. The concept circled around his mind, relentless and overwhelming. He blinked rapidly, trying to focus, but the car seemed to close in on him. A soulmate. His soulmate. The thought pounded in his skull, echoing louder with each beat of his heart.

His eyes darted from one side of the car to the other, unfocused, as his breathing quickened. Every face he’d ever known flashed through his mind— mutants, friends, enemies— all blurring together in a desperate search. He released his grip on his seat to only grip it tighter, digging deep into his memory, trying to pinpoint who it could be. Who from his world could possibly be the one.

“Oh, I can practically hear the gears grinding in your noggin, Wolfie. Relax, it’s not like you’ve missed out on a soulmate meet-and-greet. You never met them in your universe—they kicked the bucket before your paths ever crossed. Just like the Logan of this universe bit the dust before he got his chance to meet them. So, no need to lose any more sleep over it, bub.” Wade reached into the hidden compartment of the car and handed Logan to file. “Alright, feast your eyes on this bad boy—it’s got all the juicy deets about your little sweet pea right here. Buckle up, Logan, it’s time to dive into the love story of the century!”

Logan’s fingers hover over the file, trembling slightly. He shallowed hard, his throat dry as he stared holes at it. His breath came in uneven gasps. The file lay heavy in his hands, a stark contrast to his tight grip as if it might burst into flames of open with a truth he wasn’t ready to face. He became a monster after the death of his friends — his family — a vicious and heartless animal with no regard for human life. He had a fiery temper and alcoholic tendencies. He hesitated, his eyes darting to and from the file, each movement slow and deliberate, as if he were bracing himself for impact.

The file contained a possible future, a future he was not worthy for, but he was a selfish man who wanted nothing more than peace. Once the file was opened, his eyes were drawn to a picture of a gardener, Flora Winters.

Flora was the right mix of grit and grace. She had this magnetic way of commanding the camera’s attention, her presence effortlessly filling the frame with a blend of strength and elegance. There was a subtle, almost intangible quality that made her stand out.

“Hey, Earth to Perve, are you done giving her the ol’ eyeball striptease yet? You haven’t even met her and you’re already panting like a dog left out in the summer sun all day. I can only guess what’ll happen when you’re actually in the same room. Actually, I can totally imagine it— and if you don’t mind, I’d love to join in on the bedroom fun!”

~~~

Flora Winters spends the day slicing into the strawberries she’s grown in her greenhouse, experimenting with different recipes to find the one that’ll make her taste buds dance. She plans to sell them alongside the rest of her crops. Her life is mostly mundane, except for the occasional boost she gives her plants with her powers.

She senses a subtle tremor in the grass—a quiet warning from the trees that someone is near, getting closer. She feels the presence of two individuals stepping onto her porch, brushing against the ivy draped from the roof, ready to knock on her door.

Cracking the door open just enough to peek out, she narrows her eyes at the two men standing there. “What do you want?” she asks, taking in their ridiculous outfits. One is decked out in a red-and-black bodysuit that looks like a walking dildo, complete with a mask that only leaves his bug-eyed lenses visible. The other guy’s in a yellow-and-blue getup that looks straight out of a comic book, his muscles practically bulging out of the suit. They look like they’re about to audition for the weirdest superhero team ever.

Logan’s heightened senses pick up a scent that calms the raging animal inside him. It’s subtle—like the earth after rain, mixed with blooming flowers and a hint of something uniquely her. For the first time in what feels like forever, a deep sense of peace settles over him, like he’s found something he didn’t even know he was searching for. Every instinct tells him he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be.

Wade practically bounces on his heels. “This is it, bub! Your happily-ever-after, complete with a side of rosebuds and thorns.”

Logan shoots Wade a withering glare. “Shut up!”

But Wade, being Wade, ignores him and keeps running his mouth. “So, Flora, you should know—Logan here is a real softy under all that muscle. Sure, he’s got the claws and hair of a kitty and the whole brooding loner vibe down pat, but deep down, he’s a big ol’ teddy bear. Just don’t tell him I said that. Anyway, I’ll just leave him here and pick him up after this little playdate.”

Flora’s eyes flicker between the two, her brow furrowing as she narrows her gaze. The walking dildo keeps yapping nonsense. The vines hanging from the roof pulse with energy, eager for her command to snap into action. The thought of wrapping those vines around these idiots and flinging them far from her home is very tempting. It would be so easy.

Her eyes dart to the door—a simple barrier she could slam shut if they don’t retaliate. She hears the dildo’s yapping and the other guy’s low growling. They’re not really a threat, more like oversized children.

“Enough with your childish bickering. I want names. Who the fuck are you, how do you know my name, and what do you want?”

Wade starts to speak, but Logan cuts him off, his voice low and growling. “The moron here thinks we’re soulmates.”

Wade jumps back in, grinning. “The TVA stamped it, laminated it, and probably put it in a scrapbook labeled ‘Destined Couples of the Multiverse.’ Ain’t love just precious—like a rabid wolverine with a bowtie! So, congrats, lovebirds. Now kiss, fight, or do both. I’m just hyped to see good ol’ Logan drop the whole grumpy routine and maybe—just maybe—stop looking like he’s got a permanent wedgie. Fingers crossed he cracks a smile without breaking a mirror.”

Flora crosses her arms and tunes out the rest of the nonsense. The vines behind the two men sway towards them like serpents, coiling around their bodies and lifting them off the porch. With a flick of her wrist, the vines hurl the intruders as far as possible from her farm. She hears their screams fade as she calmly shuts the door, ignoring whatever mess is happening outside.

Wade and Logan watch the farm grow smaller and smaller until it vanishes behind the trees. Logan lands flat on his back, the wind knocked out of him, silently cursing Wade for dragging him into this. Wade, not as lucky, ends up impaled on a lonely tree stump. “Motherfucker.”

Logan gasps, “That went well.”

Wade pulls himself off the stump, glaring at his ruined suit. “I knew I should’ve handled the chit-chat! This is what happens when you let amateurs do the smooth talkin’—awkward silences and cringe-level dialogue. Next time, leave the witty banter to the pros—me.” He points at himself with both thumbs before inspecting the lacerations in his suit. “Well, there goes my uniform! Ruined! You know how hard it is to play arts and crafts with my own skin-tight, butt-hugging suit? This is what my life has come to—reconstructing fashion disasters caused by homicidal landscaping and that damn Vine Vixen.”

Masterlist

[kdheaven]

buffy summers + matt murdock: resurrection parallels

id under the cut

ID: A series of gifs compares the journeys of Buffy Summers of "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and Matt Murdock of "Daredevil":

Buffy jumps to her death into a portal of purple-white energy. Matt travels through a sea of fire following the explosion at Midland Circle. Both have their arms outstretched in a shape reminiscent of Jesus Christ on the cross.

Buffy awakens in her coffin after being resurrected by her friends. Matt awakens in an infirmary bed at St. Agnes Orphanage, where he's being cared for by the nuns. Both of them are disoriented and shocked to be alive.

Buffy confesses that she is struggling to get through every moment in a loud, bright, violent world since her return. "This is hell," she says. In a hallucination, Wilson Fisk taunts Matt about the fact that his damaged hearing was restored just in time for Matt to find out Fisk is out of prison. "Does that sound like God's forgiveness?" he asks. "No," Matt responds. "It sounds like… hell."

Buffy explains that something has been missing since her resurrection. "When I clawed my way out of that grave, I left something behind. Part of me." Foggy Nelson makes a similar observation about Matt. "I think a part of him was buried under Midland Circle," he says.

Buffy is symbolically resurrected again alongside Dawn, her sister, who often represents Buffy's connection to her humanity or inner child. The two of them crawl out of an open grave in the cemetery after fighting off some demons. Matt is symbolically resurrected again alongside Karen Page, who can be viewed as representing his ties to his loved ones who he has pushed away and his sense of purpose as Daredevil ("People like her are why I do this"). The two of them climb out of a stone coffin after hiding from pursuers in the Clinton Church crypt.

Buffy and Dawn walk together amid the leafy green trees and flowers of spring. We see their backs as they look out over a beautiful vista. Matt and Karen walk together out of Clinton Church and emerge into the sunshine. Similarly, we see them from behind with bright green leaves in front of them. Both scenes evoke rebirth and hope.

[puppetmaster13u]

It's the last day of Mermay...

So have my most common headcanons on who would be which (or take inspiration from such) for if they were merfolk <3 Yes, this is DCxDP but can be used for either separately if you want.

Bruce- Ray

Alfred- Remora

Kate- Angel Shark

Dick - Guppy

Cass- Cuttlefish

Jason- Thresher Shark

Tim- Bichir

Steph- Spanish Shawl Sea Slug

Duke- Anglerfish

Harper- Cichlid

Cullen- Rasbora

Damian- Stingray

Carrie- Dusky Batfish

Jarro- Starfish

Terry- Devilfish

Matt- Koi

Barbara- Jellyfish

Gordon- Squirrelfish

Ghostmaker- Moray Eel

Harvey- Tiger Shark

Selina- Catfish

Harley- Clownfish

Poison Ivy- Leafy Seadragon

Riddler- Corydoras

Joker- Piranha

Bane- Pufferfish

Mr. Freeze- Leopard Seal

Scarecrow- Anglerfish

Waylon- Saltwater Crocodile

Solomon Grundy- Coelacanth 

Penguin- Longfin Icedevil

Ras Al Ghul- Sturgeon

Talia- Pike

Dusan- Pike 

Deathstroke- Tiger Barb

Clark- Sea Lion

Connor- Fur Seal

Jon- Fur Seal

Kara- Sea Lion

Martha Kent- Ribbon Seal

Jonathan Kent- Manatee

Lex Luthor- Cardinalfish

Barry Allen- Marlin

Wally West- Swordfish

Bart- Marlin

Iris- Trout

Thawne- Wahoo

Captain Cold- Beluga Whale

Heatwave- Guppy

Captain Boomerang- Discus Fish

Mirror Master- Mahi Mahi

Green Arrow- Goby

Arsenal- Arapaima

Artemis- Grouper

Black Canary- Orca

Diana- Lionfish

Cassie- Lionfish

Cheetah- Spotted Snapper

Vandal Savage- Dunkleosteus 

Marvel- Whale Shark 

Billy- Wrasse

Mary- Wrasse

Freddy- Killifish

Eugene- Loach

Pedro- Danio

Darla- Goby

Black Adam- Gar Fish

Dr. Sivana- Dolphin

Mister Mind- Bristle Worm

Martian Manhunter- Octopus

M’gann- Octopus

Aquaman- Hammerhead Shark

Kaldur- Blue Tang

Oceanmaster- Ray

Plasticman- Oarfish

Booster Gold- Goldfish

Blue Beetle- Blue Shrimp

John Stewart- Sailfish

Hal Jordan- Neon Tetra

Red Tornado- Mantis Shrimp

Zatanna- Swordtail

Constantine- Fighting Fish

Doctor Fate- Wrasse

Deadman- Glass Fish

Klarion- Platy

Cyborg- Mola

Raven- Squid

Beast Boy- Triggerfish

Starfire- Koi Fish

Beast Boy- Fluffy Sculpin

Lobo- Wolf Fish

Deadshot- Ruby Barb

Killer Frost- White Koi

King Shark- Great White Shark

Doctor Light- Dolphin

Catman- Tigerfish

Angel Breaker- Redtail Black Shark

Trigon- Giant Squid 

Martha Wayne- Mako Shark

Thomas Wayne- Devil Ray

Lucious Fox- King Mackeral 

Jack Drake- Freshwater Angelfish

Janet Drake- Comet Goldfish

================================================

Danny- Betta Fish (Or Giant Phantom Jelly)

Dan- Lancetfish

Ellie- Betta Fish

Jazz- Oarfish

Sam- Lamprey

Tucker- Devil's Hole Pupfish

Valerie- Cherry Shrimp

Vlad Masters- Vampire Squid

Maddie Fenton- Lion's Mane Jelly

Jack Fenton- Whale

Ida Manson- Gulper Eel

Mr. Lancer- Hatchetfish

Spike- Gourami

Wes Weston- Carp

Kyle Weston- Perch

Paulina- Dragonfish

Star- Cichlid

Dash Baxter- Short Beaked Dolphin

Kwan- Goldfish

Box Ghost- Boxfish

Lunch Lady- Killifish

Skulker- Sea Turtle

Ghostwriter- Lyretail

Sidney Poindexter- Shubunkin

Jonny 13- Corydora

Kitty- Loach

Ember- Basslet

Desiree- Seahorse

Spectra- Eel

Walker- Frogfish

Nocturn- Lanternfish

Overgrowth- Sea Pig

Fright Knight- Swordtail

Pariah Dark- Skate

Princess Dora- Dragon Goby

Pandora- Leaf Scorpionfish

Frostbite- Crabeater Seal

Clockwork- Colossal Squid (or Congor Eel)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------If you want pics of any of the fish/creatures I am happy to put them out, I just can't put that many links on one post lol. (Also apologies if I missed anyone)

[running-swimming-living]

I went swimming for the first time in a while. I honestly just got discouraged after seeing my weight on the scale stay basically the same. Then came the Fourth of July. I had burgers and hot dogs and a lot of chips. Just generally unhealthy options. I felt like my contributions to my health were not seeing any gains so I spent a few days eating crap and not exercising.

Today, I jumped back into things. My diet is average but I did goto the pool. I could feel the lethargy of missing a few workout days. But the swim was great, especially in this warm weather.

I want to see progress in my health. I'm at 186 right now. What I am currently doing is not working. I've been in the 180's for a while now. I take meds that cause weight gain as well as having several health issues that also cause weight gain. I am trying to be realistic but also want to see some weight loss.

My current plan of attack is 30 min swims and moderate diet. I don't feel like restricting my food or fasting. I think what I will try to do is a swim in the morning and a run in the evening because the sun it out and the weather is nice. As for diet, I need to see myself eating healthy options all day. Not necessarily less, but healthier meaning no super processed foods, avoid carbs and high sodium. Focus on my leafy greens, healthy fats, yummy fruits and basically wholesome food that makes me feel good.

I am also on team moderation, so that'll be a cup of ice cream here or a popsicle there.

Gus is getting on in his years. He now has a lot of white fur on his face. It's the only way anyone could tell he was 11 years old.

[spicerackofblorbos]

Chasing Waterfalls | Toge Inumaki x gn!Reader

☾ summary ➼ Toge takes you out on a surprise date.

☾ content/warnings ➼ fluff, canon world, toge talking in his specific language, established relationship

☾ wc ➼ 1.4k

☾ a/n ➼ this was a little fic I wrote for my friend Eri (as well as the 9 panel moodboard) a while back and she has given me permission to share it with y'all!! Toge is so baby :3

The wet mud underneath your boots squelches as you try your best to keep up with Toge. He's a good yard away, his back turned to you so that all you see is his backpack and blonde hair. You can't blame him though, it's not his fault that you're lagging. The scenery was just too stunning to not take your time.

Late morning sun rays filter through the green leaves above offering just the perfect touch of warmth that balances out the cool floor of the forest. You pull out your phone to take a snapshot of the leafy canopy and when you're satisfied, you look over to see purple eyes watching you curiously.

“I'm sorry, it's just really pretty out here. How much farther do you think we have till your mysterious destination?” You raise an eyebrow at him. 

“Tsunamayo onigiri.” He responds, pointing behind him.

“Oh, that's not bad. I'm right behind you.” You smile up at him as you adjust the backpack on your shoulders.

Toge woke you up early today with wide eyes and an even wider smile. For once, you both had an off day, and he was adamant that you two take advantage of it. He didn't tell you where he was taking you, only that you needed to pack a bag and wear clothes appropriate for a hike. What you didn't expect was to be taken a few hours from the city and up to some forest hiking trails. Not like you were complaining though, you loved being out in the crisp air.

Eventually, Toge stops at a clearing surrounded by tall trees. The sounds of rushing water and birdsong continue as you stare over at him with furrowed brows. There wasn't much here in the empty space and based on the information he gave; this wasn't meant to be a camping trip.

“Toge? Are we here?”

“Shake.” He nods.

Your eyes scan the area in case you missed something. The only thing you see are the same trees and leave speckled ground.

“Um.”

He turns back around and marches to the back of the clearing before using an arm and pulling some branches up to show a little dirt path. You can't see anything past that as the sunshine peeks through, obscuring everything.

“Sujiko.” He beckons you with a hand, a small smile on his lips as he calls you forward.

With a nervous sigh, you step forward and walk through the leafy archway. Instantly, your breath is taken away as your eyes adjust to the change in scenery. The two-hour hike was absolutely worth it.

The sound of rushing water makes sense now as you watch crystal clear water cascade from rocks high above. The water splashes into a pool that is just as clear, the mist from the impact rising into the air and creating beautiful rainbows as the sun hits just right. Surrounding you are dense trees, ensuring maximum privacy for whoever stumbles upon this little oasis.

“Toge Inumaki, how the hell did you find this?” You twist around to see your blushy boyfriend rub the back of his neck.

“Tsunamayo. Takana?”

“It's great, I love it. Are we having lunch here?” You point to the ground, a smile gracing your lips. He only nods back as he pulls his backpack off and starts digging around in it. Despite how small it looks on the outside, he takes out more than you expected.

A large blanket comes out first, then a container of what you suspect must be onigiri – stuffed with the best fillings you can only assume. A smaller container stuffed full of gyoza follows. Then comes a bottle of clear soda and two cups. You wonder when he had time to get all of this made.

It doesn't take long for the both of you to demolish the delicious lunch Toge provided and before you know it, you're resting your head on his lap as you stare over at the waterfall in a daze. The sun had moved quite a bit since you both settled down, but the same birds chirping above remained the same. You swear you could fall asleep right here, but you know you'd have to leave soon if you were to make it back to campus on time.

“Sujiko? Takana?” His long fingers brush down your cheek before nudging your face to look up at him. Concern laces his violet eyes as he stares down at you, a small frown directed at you.

“I'm wonderful. This whole thing has been wonderful, silly. I could stay here forever with you if I could.” You reach up to poke his face as you give him a reassuring smile.

“Tsuna tsuna mayo.” he says as he gently pushes you off to stand up. It's your turn to frown as you stare up at him from his feet. He reaches down to help you up which you do so hesitantly.

“Do we have to go now?” It comes out whinier than you hoped, but he laughs anyways.

“Okaka. Tsuna.” There's a slight blush across his cheeks. And you watch as he carefully pulls his shoes off before tugging his shirt off, showing his bare chest. Instantly, a flood of heat goes straight to your face.

“Here? Toge, I don't know about that.” Your eyes scan the muddy ground, anxiety bubbling in your chest.

“Kastuobushi! Onigiri sujiko.” Despite the red that tints his pallid skin, he laughs as he points to the water. You sigh in relief, only to be filled with nervousness yet again.

“Toge, no that's too cold!” You wrap your arms around you in a show of how even in the clothes you're in, you're still chilled.

“Tsuna mayo.” He says as he shrugs before pushing down his pants. He's only in his boxers at this point but you don't have time to focus on it as long as you’d like because he rushes past you and dives straight into the cool water.

For the next minute, all you hear is the rustling of leaves above and water hitting the surface of the pool. You start to get worried if he went into shock at how cold it was and before you know it, you're stripping down to your undershirt and underwear.

When your feet hit the water first, you can't stop the loud gasp that escapes your lips. It is indeed cold. Not freezing of course, but cold enough that you want to scream. But your boyfriend was more important and with him in your mind, you dive straight in after him.

You don't stay under for long as the air is instantly pulled out of your lungs and the iciness that surrounds you. The moment you break the surface, you do your best to take deep, slow breaths – a technique you saw on the internet that helps your body not go into shock. When you're able to get a feel of your body, you look around. Toge isn't anywhere to be seen and a different kind of panic surges through you.

“Toge?! Toge!” You whip around to scan your surroundings. You almost miss it, the boy with blonde hair and bright eyes watching you in amusement from the veil of the waterfall. He's laughing.

“You asshole, you scared the shit out of me!” You frown as you wade over to him. You feel cold water raining on you as you get closer, having to shield your eyes from the projectiles with your hand.

“Tsuna.” He chuckles as he makes his way down to you, making the shield you made with your hand all but worthless. Before you’re able to lower your arm, you feel Toge's hands grasp your waist and pull you into him. His warmth is inviting so you don't hesitate to cling onto him.

You must admit that the water is extremely refreshing after such a long hike. The cold has woken you up as well, though you suspect it's more from the adrenaline. As your feet kick below the surface, you finally feel your body temperature level out.

“Takana?”

“Yeah, I'll be fine. Just don't scare me like that again, dummy.”

“Tsunamayo.” His fingers make their way to your chin, and he tips it up so you're looking him in the eye. “Tsuna.”

“Yeah, yeah. I forgive you.” He squeezes your chin gently, pursing his lips. “Yes, I love you too.”

He pulls you closer until his soft and warm lips meet yours. His kisses are ever so sweet, just as he is. Your thoughts from earlier don't change, you wish you could stay here with him forever. 

[multiplicity-positivity]

hi. this is a little unusual, but I'm a mostly-dormant alter in a moderately large system. I happened to come back yesterday, and I wanted to at least make it through today, but I can already feel myself getting front-exhaustion. once I leave front, I probably won't come back. so, I don't know, I sort of just wanted some proof that I was here? my name is aster. do you think you could show some pictures of asters, maybe?

aster, we might have missed you. if you’re dormant again, we’re really sorry we couldn’t get to this ask in time.

here are some asters:

(alt text:) all nine images include pictures of aster flowers, either in small clusters or in large groups. aster flowers have many thin purple petals, a yellow floral disk in the center, and green leafy stems. (end alt text)

we will tag this post with both “#aster” and “#aster was here.” if you ever do front again in the future and somehow find your way to our blog, you can just search your name on our blog to find proof of your existence in the past.

[josphitia]

Josie's Cow HRT Journey Part 1 - Discovery

I've been living as myself for 10 years. It's been hard, but I've achieved so much. I see a woman when I look in the mirror. There are aspects of myself I'm unhappy with, but who doesn't have that, right? So why did it feel like something's still missing?

I was just browsing my socials and I saw something that caught my eye, something that scratched an itch I didn't have words for. This girl was a freaking werewolf??? And more than that, it was from HRT??? I never really had a Tixter before but for this I had to make an account, I wanted to learn everything I could about this!

After that discovery, I was entranced for days by transition timelines. I saw people of all genders (or none!) posting their happiness and successes becoming the animals they truly were. Dragons, fish, mice, it seemed there was no end to the menagerie unfolding before my eyes. There were so many different creatures, but none really felt like “me.” Sure, having wings would be cool, and horns felt right, but I definitely wasn't a dragon. I love tigers but the idea of becoming an obligate carnivore scared me (although I would've rocked the stripes). The horses were sleek and gorgeous, and while hooves scratched this newfound itch, I just couldn't see myself as an equine.

Maybe I was just a happy ally? So excited to see people being able to be their authentic selves, but not a journey of my own? The thought of just leaving it at that, however, filled me with dread. I knew in my stomach this would be something I'd regret if I didn't pursue it. After all, wasn't that feeling of reticence proof enough I was on the right path? So on I scrolled.

It almost felt like some weird form of para-social shopping. Seeing a happy giraffe girl and thinking “could I be happy like that?” The animals though just never felt like they fit right for me. There were aspects I identified with, but never a whole package. It was like some weird riddle, which animal was just… myself?

Then I came across a random post and it was like everything clicked into place. It was a girl posting a comedic picture of herself trying to acclimate to her new diet: a salad of grass clippings. Underneath that picture was a hashtag that seemed to illuminate a corner of my brain used to darkness: #CowHRT. I was teary eyed, I had finally found who I was. It just felt right, it felt like *me*.

For the next few days it felt like every mystery of my being had an answer. Why did I always wear my sunglasses over my head? It was helping to relieve my dysphoria of not having horns. Why were shoes so hard to shop for and never fit quite right? I wasn't even supposed to be wearing them. Heck, I might’ve not even supposed to have toes! Even my diet seemed to fit into perfect place. I was already vegan for a number of years and loved nothing more than a nice bowl of leafy greens or broccoli. I wasn't going to become a cow, I already and always was one. I just needed help to see that bovine in the mirror.

By some stroke of luck it turned out a lot of the girls undergoing animal HRT lived in the same city as me, so I was able to find the doctor they were attending relatively easily. It seemed he had as many positive reviews as he did negative… But, surely he couldn't throw anything at me that I hadn't already dealt with. I've dealt with my fair share of awful therapists and doctors. I bookmarked his website, dreading the eventual phone call I would make. I was so eager, my head was already making plans for how my life would change and how I'd live life as my authentic self. There was just one thing I hadn't quite mentally tackled, something that should be easy but still filled me with anxiety…

How was I going to tell my husband?

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Josie's Cow HRT Journey

First|Previous|Next

[prof-peach]

I’m awfully sorry to be profiting off your misfortune, but as someone with a lot of tactile affection to give, I’ve always struggled with good ways to show my partner Magcargo (his name is Cornelius!) how loved he is and how happy he makes all of us! I keep his blowhole clear of debris and scrape the sides of his foot clean from hardened lava when it creeps up too high, and he seems happy enough, but tales of your woes keeping the Slugma out of your garden has also given me a whole host of new flavors for him to try, and it’s great to have ways to put in the effort and show him he’s appreciated! (And if it’s not uncouth to ask… are there maybe any specific plants you notice the intrusive Slugma like best? No grass-type Pokémon being harmed, of course!)

Oh I don’t mind, every Pokemon has its place, though many feed on plants, specially the ones I’m trying to grow, it’s never a cause for long lasting anger.

The slugma line are actually a real fun little duo, I got no qualms with them even if they chew through my seedlings.

For ease I can suggest fruit and veg that they seem to prefer, seeing as sourcing specific plant matter year round is not always so simple.

Most are not picky eaters, their nature makes them very resourceful and adaptive, and often their high body temperature means they aren’t so focused on taste, more texture.

My poor vegetable patch gets ravaged by them, but they noticeably go for the really leafy greens or higher water content plants, so cucumbers, cabbage, lettuce for sure, they aren’t adverse to the brassicas, so broccoli and kale and the likes. Mushrooms also seem to go down well, though they can be a hit or miss overall. Worth a try though. If your buddy has a sweet tooth try strawberries, never met a Magcargo that doesn’t like em, like a built in love the whole species shares. It’s kind of a weird little thing they all have in common.

Dandelion greens and hosta leaves also go down a treat but are very seasonal. I personally like to grow pea shoots for salads, but they sprout so fast and grow in all seasons, so having a few trays of them growing is a winner. If you have a small space, a window ledge is plenty to grow your own for your buddy. Takes no time for them to get going, and you and your Pokemon can enjoy them together. They only need to sprout so you don’t have to think about feeding them or doing more than putting them in all of a 3-4cm layer of dirt and watering them now and then. Super easy!

But seriously, cucumbers. I hate to admit it but last year I had to buy a few, they wiped my whole crop out almost.

[maximumwobblerbanditdonut]

I HAVE AN obsession with the color green. It’s a color of opposites. Green is life, growth, and health. It’s also sickness, greed, and envy. It’s good and bad at once. And it’s everywhere this afternoon as I sit down with actor, producer, author, and entrepreneur Sam Heughan — most recognized for his starring role in the Scotland-based time travel drama “Outlander.” His shirt bears a green tartan pattern, somewhere between jade and emerald. To my right, the glass bottle of his new gin is a transparent seafoam. Above my head is the leafy expanse of a tree, planted in the courtyard of New York’s Crosby Street Hotel. The gin we sip tastes green: grassy and alpine, fresh as menthol and bright as a sour apple. Most vividly is the green in my mind’s eye: the wet, rich, misty green of Scotland, a place Heughan speaks of with rapture.

Missing home is what drove Heughan to launch his spirits brand Sassenach, after the Scottish Gaelic word for an English person, or rather, an “outsider.” “When I was in London away from home, a jobbing actor, missing Scotland, I remember my first time trying a single malt whisky and I had such an emotional reaction,” he recalls from across the table, his bright blue eyes wide. “It reminded me of Scotland.”

I remark on the gin’s legs, thick and viscous, streaking the sides of my glass. Heughan nods, “I increased the strength. It just gives it a bit more weight. I love a bit of weight on my tongue.” Toasted oats give a creamy feel to the cornucopia of flavors present in the liquid: pine resin, heather, blackberry leaf, blaeberry — and, again, that sour green apple. “There’s no citrus in Scotland. That’s why I chose apples,” Heughan explains. “I remember as a kid, picking them and throwing them at people, eating them, then being really ill because they’re so sour.”

Heughan’s family — his mother, brother, and uncle — still live in Scotland. His uncle used to have a ceilidh band. “[Ceilidh is] a traditional Scottish dance,” he explains. “It’s madness. Everyone’s drinking whisky and the dancers get faster and faster and there are lots of spinning people around.” Heughan listens to a lot of Scottish music. He later sends me a song called “Blackbird” by Martyn Bennett, known for mixing dance tracks with traditional Celtic music. I tear up at its aching slants. “It makes me homesick for a home that’s not mine,” I message him. “That’s Scotland,” he writes back. “It does that to people.”

Sam Heughan Is in Good Spirits Image Float

Heughan was raised by a single mother in the south of Scotland — the rural stretches of Dumfries and Galloway. “Spent a lot of time on my own pretending I was a knight or Robert the Bruce.” The land’s botanicals now flavor his gin. Courtesy of Sam Heughan.

“It’s one foot in the present, one in the past,” muses Heughan about his country, adding a splash of tonic to my gin, whose flavor now reveals a pleasant salinity. “The castles. So many great battles. You

can feel the history. I think that’s what makes it so magical.” This history is inextricably linked to ritual, observed in Scotland to this day. Take Beltane, a pagan ritual beginning serendipitously on Heughan’s birthday, April 30. “You’re supposed to stay up all night and wash your face in the fresh dew when the sun rises, then go to bed and dream of your future spouse,” he describes. “It’s all about rebirth and nature.”

We talk about other parts of the world that have shaped him, as I remark on his fusion accent: a bit Scottish for sure, but mixed with something else, sort of American and British, too. America’s opportunity and diversity captivate Heughan. He came here for the first time at 18, hostel hopping in San Francisco. “I remember looking at the Golden Gate Bridge for hours, playing my cassette of ‘(Sittin’ On) the Dock of the Bay’ by Otis Redding over and over. I was living on $5 burritos — one a day. It’s all I could afford.” He speaks of Hawaii with reverence — the local culture’s connection to wildlife and the sea. He spent time with a fisherman and his family there who taught him the Indigenous way to fish: “Gut it straight away. Take out the heart, say a prayer, and throw it back into the ocean immediately to allow the soul of the fish to live on.” New Zealand also moves him. He was there recently and learned about tā moku, the art of Māori tattooing. “You sit with an artist and tell him your story. He chooses where it goes on your body and makes it there and then. He stuck [the initial sketch] on my left forearm here, and it was all about my mom and my brother and the absence of my father.” He wants to return to New Zealand and get the tattoo next time.

My gin has opened up even more, spreading out into softer, aromatic florals as Heughan uncorks a bottle of his whisky. “People have called you a global heartthrob.” I begin, “Is that a role you’re —”

“Who has?” His eyes grow bigger in feigned shock. (Fun fact: the Sam Heughan fanbase even has their own name — “Heughligans.”)

“Someone I talked to in the subway.”

“Right, right,” he nods gravely, pouring new glasses.

“Do you,” I continue, taking a sip, “feel comfortable in that role?” The whisky tastes like a spicy Werther’s caramel.

“My character is what some people aspire to, and I understand why. He’s this incredible human being who’s just so in love with his wife and does the most romantic things. Selfless. People then think you might be that person. I’m certainly not. But it’s something to aspire to.”

“Are you comfortable,” I press, “being an object of desire?” Heughan shares that in earlier years, he was treated in a way that would no longer be tolerated. “I’d be asked, ‘What’s under your kilt?’ or ‘How do you get your abs?’ I wish I did have abs! We were just in a different industry. I don’t have resentment or a grudge. But I would like to be seen for the work that I do, rather than my looks.”

While he’s still based in Scotland, Heughan also has a house in LA, a city he’s not exactly sold on. He toys with the idea of New York as his next home base. He loves it here. “The cocktail bars. Cycling along the West Side. SoHo. The river. Getting a ferry. I’m so into ferries! I’ll go to Staten Island, then come back again. We got a helicopter the other day back from the Hamptons — I don’t like helicopters. They’re not meant to fly. However, seeing the Statue of Liberty from there, it’s so good. New York could be my city.”

I show Heughan around some local spots that evening. We sit at the bar of Superbueno for mezcal drinks and tacos. The music gets louder and so do the crowds. Mouth full of al pastor, I semi-shout a question in Heughan’s direction, asking if he ever gets overstimulated. “No, not really,” he replies simply, between chewing. At 6 feet, 3 inches, Heughan towers over seemingly everyone. Maybe it’s calmer up there. There’s an overall good-natured quality to him; it’s soothing to be around.

We head to another bar, Mr. Fongs. The air is thick with the smell of trash and rats dart to and fro. A subway thunders overhead as we walk below a bridge in Chinatown. “This is awesome,” Heughan murmurs. We order the bar’s specialty: salty plum old-fashioneds. “I want a place where the second I walk out my door, I’m right in the center of all of it,” he says decidedly, whistling a little at the (notoriously strong) drink. “Right in the middle.”

Heughan is noticeably unadorned. I suggest some rings and an ear piercing for his New York era. A candle light flickers against his cheek, evoking another world — someplace old and rural and rugged. At this moment, I see his character, a fantasy projection of the leading man. But really, we’re just in Chinatown, weighing the pros and cons of earrings on men. “Sadly I don’t think I’m quite cool enough,” he sighs, “to pull that off.” ▪️

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[deceptive-daydreams]

The Under-Ground (18+ ONLY)

Chapter Two - Baggage

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 |

Modern!Barista!Eddie AU - As you continue to train Eddie, words are exchanged. Your life is in shambles and he only adds to it.

Enemies to Lovers, Modern!Barista!Eddie AU, Eddie x Fem Reader

12.1K Words

Warnings - Eddie is an asshole, eventual smut, mentions of drugs and drinking, I don't think there's anything else but please let me know if I missed anything

Author's Note: This story has been lingering in my mind and it took me so long to write this chapter because I want to do it right and I had the worst writer's block but now I am flooded with inspiration. Pls let me know how you feel about it so far

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The biting cold of the morning nipped at your skin, little pins and needles feeling like they were burying themselves there.  The streets were glimmering with puddles, the rain from the night before leaving them behind and the moody clouds still lingering in the sky.  No matter how long you’d lived in Hawkins the changing of the seasons would always sneak up on you like an unwelcome visitor.  Gone were the days of walking around downtown with an iced coffee on your day off, the summer sun beaming down and flowers in full bloom while the trees were leafy and lush.  No more lounging around on a bench outside of the college to complete a few assignments under the shade of a large oak tree in desperate need of a change of scenery in comparison to your shitty apartment.  At least not until next Spring.  

Hawkins Community College was a historical building that used to serve as the town hall but has since evolved into the college after the council elected to have the town hall relocated to a more practical location.  The building was settled just south of downtown and was deemed ‘too out of the way’.  Its bricks were a faded brown, weathered down over the years and not a high enough priority to keep maintained, though the sidewalks were freshly paved and the grass was as green as ever, the morning dew blanketing over it like a fresh coat of paint.  The campus wasn’t very large seeing as Hawkins’ population wasn’t very impressive and the majority of its residents would travel elsewhere for college. 

The front steps of the building were scuffed and scattered with various footprints from students and teachers who walked with purpose to their destination.  On the very top step, front and center sat a disoriented Dustin Henderson, face scrunched up in perplexity.  Though he was still attending Hawkins High as a current sophomore, he enlisted himself in one of the programs offered where students could take classes at Hawkins Community for college credits.  Fingers desperately ruffling through the several papers in his dense binder, he argued with his mother while his phone was clutched in the other hand on speaker.  Something about “I swear it was on the kitchen counter!” followed by the word ‘mom’ being shouted into the phone repeatedly as if it would solve his dilemma.  When she apologetically let him know that there was no such mystery item, he only cursed as he facepalmed, ending the call with a defeated “Okay, love you.  Bye.”  

A heavy sigh escaped the boy as he slapped the binder onto the step beside him, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose, agitated.  Dustin was ironically your only college friend, not a best friend but you knew him well enough to gather that he’d definitely left his assignment at home and that this was going to dictate his mood for the entire day.  His eyes resembled emeralds as his focus shifted from his dirty sneakers up to you, a hint of excitement swimming in the deep green of his irises.  

“Rough morning?” You suggest with a sympathetic smile.  He bites his lip in frustration as if he’s holding back every distressed thought racing through his head.

“Mhmm.” He squeaks, still refraining from word vomiting all over your peaceful morning, hands now resting on his denim covered knees.  

“You forgot your essay, didn’t you?” You know you’ve poked the bear but you could feel how anxious he was to blow up about everything that went wrong that morning leading up to this moment and who were you to deny him?  Henderson had a special place nestled in the corner of your heart, always loud and boisterous but also kind and delightful to be around.  

He sucked in a breath before releasing every word that was prodding his brain.  “All because my mom had to clean the goddamn house!  She was all ‘Dusty, this is why we don’t leave our things around!’” He mocks his mothers voice with a high pitch, face twisting in dramatics.  “I left it right on the counter where I could grab it on my way out but apparently, a ten page essay WITH MY NAME ON IT IN BIG BOLD LETTERS was thrown in the garbage.  On its way to a landfill.  Gone.”  His shoulders tensed and all you could offer was a supportive hand to his shoulder.

“I’m sorry, Dustin.”  You say carefully, the kid was a ticking time bomb sometimes.  He waved you off, his way of saying ‘don’t worry about it’.  

“And THEN, fucking Will made the dumbest move last night at our campaign.  Completely tanked the whole thing.”  His hands were thrown up in misery as he recalled the memory.  “Eddie had the whole thing set up perfectly, we’ve been playing this campaign for weeks!”  Dustin’s eyes shifted back and forth erratically as the whole thing played out in his mind, your eyes rolled at the mention of the metalhead.  “Oh he was so pissed.  You shoulda seen him, he was throwing dice, screaming at Will, screaming at Mike, screaming at ME!  I finally talked him off the ledge but shit, he was revved up.”

Eddie hosted their DND club a majority of the time per Dustin and from what he tells you about those nights, Eddie is always a sadistic maniac.  Dustin also swears that he’s like his big brother, next in line to King Steve although Steve took on more of a dad role.  There was no way to imagine Eddie embodying the role of a big brother let alone displaying any kind of pleasant behavior.  You cringed at the mere idea of him, knowing you’d have to endure him at work this evening.

Dustin continued his rant passionately.  “And I’m sorry, I know you hate when I bring up Eddie for whatever reason but dude was not having it.  My special edition dice are now lost in the abyss underneath his couch.”  You shake your head in disapproval.  “I told him I’d let it slide though cause he said he’d let me go with him to a concert.” He concludes with a shrug.

At this you nudge the boy’s shoulder, disappointed.  “Dustin!  He can’t bribe his way out of losing your dice after chucking them when he has a temper tantrum!  If those dice are important to you then you need to stand your ground.”  You instruct him.

He lets out a long sigh before responding.  “Socks, respectfully, this is how our friendship with Eddie works.  We piss each other off and then we move on.  Like a few weeks ago, he kept making sexual sounds while I was on the phone with my mom so I hid his shoes from him after he got really stoned.”  At this you can’t help but release a laugh.  

“Good on you, Henderson.” You praise.  “I guess I won’t need to step in when I see him at work later then.  Sounds like you can handle yourself.”  You begin pulling your binder from your bag in preparation for class.  

Dustin shakes his head in confusion, waving his arms in front of him like he’s missing a piece of the puzzle.  “Hold up, Eddie’s a barista now?”  His tone is humorous, on the brink of cackling.  

“Uh huh.”  You answer nonchalantly while opening your binder and shuffling through a few papers, making a note in your planner for some homework you just remembered off the top of your head.  “And our dear Stevie knew about it before me and just decided it’d be a good idea to see my reaction when he walked in the door for his first shift yesterday.”  You chew on your pen as you attempt to remember any other assignments you may have forgotten to write down.  

“Eddie?  Eddie Munson?  Metalhead, former drug dealer, thought it would be funny to piss in Steve’s beer, Eddie Munson?  That Eddie?”  Dustin gapes at you in disbelief to which you nod.  “I’m sorry but–there’s no fucking way!  A barista?  He doesn’t even drink coffee, he hates trendy little cafes, and there’s no goddamn way he would apply for a job where both you AND Steve work.  Sounds like his own personal hell.”  The boy is laughing, clutching his stomach.  

You hang your head and giggle along with him.  As awful as the situation was, it did sound ridiculous enough to laugh.  “I thought the same thing, Dusty.  The universe just has it out for us.” You refer to you and Steve.  As much as you had a rivalry with Eddie, Steve had his own beef with the guy.  This posed as an issue seeing as Steve practically mothered Lucas, Mike, Will, Dustin, Max, and El ever since he was in high school when he dated Nancy Wheeler.  The way Eddie and Steve fought resembled a divorced couple exchanging their kids in a Walmart parking lot.  And to Steve’s disadvantage, Eddie always ended up at the notorious parties he threw since one of the kids always ended up blabbing after he distinctly told them not to.  It always put a damper on your night when he showed up, giving you flashbacks to that one party years ago that you swore you’d forget about but it still lingered in the back of your mind.  

“I hope you know this means that everyone’s going to be placing bets on who ends up dead first.”  Dustin raises a brow at you, throwing his arm over your shoulder, shaking it playfully.

Standing up as classes were about to start, you shot him a glare.  “I can definitely take him.”  You state, holding your hand out to help him up.  He takes it and shrugs, a grin on his face that tells you ‘I don’t know about that’.  “Dustin.  Please don’t tell me you think Eddie is going to get to me.”  You scoff as he opens the heavy metal door leading into the building, the hinges creaking.  

His face indicates that he’s bouncing a thought around before answering.  “Well…” he begins.  “You don’t know what he’s capable of.  The guy is a menace.  He can play games for as long as he needs to.”  He further explains.  

“Okay, you know what?  I’m done talking about some asshole who doesn’t even matter to me.”  You decide, the mostly vacant hallways echoing your footsteps as you step into the heated building. 

“Ugh, it’s like having three parents who don’t get along.  I know Eddie is a lot but maybe if you, I dunno, hung out with him you’d realize he’s actually also really cool.”  Dustin has the audacity to suggest.

Huffing out a breath and holding your binder to your chest, you give him your final piece of mind.  “Munson is never going to even get the time of day out of me let alone a besties hangout sesh.”  You snap bitterly.  Dustin’s hands raise in surrender, you’re done with this conversation and he knows better than to try and change your mind.  

“Anyway…” he sighs, dropping his shoulders while you both make your way through the beige halls.  “Max and Lucas are back together again.”  He nudges your shoulder with his, causing you to sway as you walk.  The couple were always on again, off again.  One week Lucas would do something dumb like stand her up by accident to go to the mall with Mike and another Max would invalidate his feelings.  It was something they claimed they were working out but after every breakup, everyone always reacted with an eye roll, knowing full well that the routine would repeat itself.  You truly did root for them but if they were going to keep hurting each other, there was no reason for them to continue the relationship.  

Glancing at Dustin, your face tells him that you’re not amused.  “Tell me something new, Henderson.”  You deadpan.  He nods, exhaling as he racks his brain.

“Holy shit!”  He sounds as if he’d just had a revelation.  “I can’t believe I forgot to tell you!”  His feet stomp on the linoleum floors in excitement, sneakers squeaking against the surface.  “But you have to PROMISE not to tell anyone.”  A finger is pointed at you in warning as you nod for him to continue.  Dustin was very bad at keeping secrets.  “Steve has a girlfriend.”  He chirps.  

Stopping dead in your tracks, shoes screeching against the floor, your eyes widen.  Steve told you everything so if Dustin’s accusations were true you were going to have some words for him for not telling you.  “Who?!”  You inquire, full attention on the curly headed boy.  “You’re lying, Steve would’ve told me!”  You whine like a child.

“That’s the thing, he hasn’t told anyone.  I saw some girl getting out of his car the other night in the mall parking lot.  I didn’t get a good look at who it was cause it happened so fast.”  He explains.

Your excitement drops at his words.  “Dustin, that doesn’t mean he has a girlfriend, that means he’s messing around, he does it all the time.” You remind him of his reputation as King Steve.

“Well pardon me for being an optimist.”  He sasses you, the two of you approaching the class.  

“You’re really bad at gossiping.”  You finish before stepping into the room, leaving him offended in the hallway.  

–

Class was as bland as ever, your professor, Mr. Randall lectured about marketing the whole two and a half hours and you nearly fell asleep six times, Dustin jabbing the eraser end of his pencil into your side each time you started slouching as he caught up on his calculus homework.  The closer to the evening it got, the more on edge you grew knowing you wouldn’t get to work the peaceful closing shift you were once used to but instead suffer a stress-inducing nightmare while training the local terror of Hawkins.  Life sucked all the way around at the moment.

Bidding Dustin a ‘see you later’ while you were walking in sync just outside the building where you always parted, he flashed you a grin before begging you to snap him a photo of Eddie at work to send it to him later.  More than likely for blackmail reasons for the next time they were pissing each other off.  Their relationship was something you couldn’t quite get a grasp on however you didn’t attempt to even understand it past the fact that for some reason Dustin admired the man child as well as despised him sometimes in that brotherly way.  

“Dustin, fuck off.”  You tell him with a playful tone.  

“What!?  You don’t even like the guy.  I’d venture to even say that this would be benefiting you in the long run.”  He clasps his hands together in front of him in a pleading motion but you don’t seem to budge which his face falls at.  

“I don’t need to be involved in your little war, I have my own!”  A dramatic wave of your arms is enough to stop him from prodding.  

With that you departed from the campus and headed straight to downtown a few hours shy of your shift to lounge around and chat with Robin.  It was either that or go back to your shitty apartment and sit in the freezing stale air, at least this way you could revel in the warmth of the shop and sip on a hot chocolate which happened to be your favorite and the only hot drink you would ever order.  Every other option had to be iced or it was a no go.  

It was around two in the afternoon so there was time to be killed until five.  You figured you’d grab your hot chocolate, gossip with Robin and Steve for a little, maybe work on some assignments, and then take a little walk through the park at the center of the square, a solid plan.  The morning chill was long gone and it was now a tad warmer with the sun sitting high in the sky.  The sidewalks were vacant since everyone was either at work or still in school which was a plus in your book, you liked to keep to yourself and found it especially annoying when you had to stop to interact with random patrons and were expected to indulge in stupid small talk that was lost on you the second you walked away.

A thirty minute walk later and you’d finally reached The Under-Ground, the smell of espresso already invading your nose before you even stepped into the building.  As you reached for the metal handle, the door had already swung open with the bell chiming above it, a rushed Joyce Byers stumbling out with two full cup holders of hot coffees nearly flying out of her hands, eyes panicked and a startled gasp escaping her.  

She mumbles your name with a nervous grin, her nose tinted pink from the fall air.  “So sorry!  I didn’t mean to run you over–I just–I was in such a hurry.  I forgot to get the coffee for a staff meeting.”  She further explains apologetically as she gestures with a tilt of her head to Melvald’s.  

Your expression softens, Joyce was always the sweetest person you’d ever met and she was a regular at the shop.  She was one person you didn’t mind engaging in small talk with because she was genuinely interested in your answers and took the initiative to further the conversation, asking how things were and telling you to let her know if you ever needed anything.  You never took her up on the offer, there was no reason to bother her.  Joyce was somewhat of a mother figure but in a quiet manner and you were so grateful whenever she graced you with her presence.  Her boys were well mannered too, she’d done an amazing job raising them as a single mom.  Obviously you’d hung out with Will since Steve was the designated neighborhood mom and that granted you rights to the movie nights, pool parties, and just about anything that Steve hosted which meant all the kids were there too.  Will was a sweet kid, he was shy at first but an absolute menace once he was comfortable enough.  

For some reason you had a connection with him as well as Joyce, they were like family just not by blood.  Will had always comforted you if things ever felt off.  If no one else in the group noticed your shift in mood, Will did and he would approach it graciously, silently nodding at you to ask if you were okay.  From there you would communicate through your eyes and he’d gather what you were feeling from that alone.  It was like having telepathy and somehow you would both silently step out from whatever scene you were in the middle of.  If it was at Steve’s, the two of you would perch yourselves on the front steps and you would just let him know you weren’t feeling that great mentally.  The conversation really wouldn’t go further than that but it didn’t need to, he was just there for you and you for him.  It worked both ways, if Will looked particularly lonely you would nod your head toward the door and you’d both meet outside.  Sometimes he’d hint that he found it annoying how clingy El and Mike were but you knew it meant that he was sick to his stomach that his best friend and his crush were basically making out on top of him.  Jonathan had always made it a point to bring you to the side and thank you for providing that support to his brother and that it meant a lot to him.  You’d always offer a small smile in return.  The Byers held a special place in your heart, they were so effortlessly nice just because.  They had no ulterior motive, just the intention to be good people.  

Taking in Joyce’s disoriented demeanor, you shake your head and help her to steady a leaning coffee that almost escaped the cup holder.  “That’s okay, I almost crashed into you.”  You tell her.

“No, that was my fault!  I really wanna catch up with you but I have to go!”  She says rather quickly, worried as she begins to scurry back to Melvald’s.  Telling her you’ll have to catch up soon over coffee and that she knows where to find you, she agrees and hurries into the store.  You can’t help letting out a small giggle at her antics.

Finally sauntering into The Under-Ground, the warmth wraps around you like a cozy cocoon, something that was all too unfamiliar at this stage in your life given the circumstances of your apartment where you were meant to spend most of your time but did everything in your power to stay away from.  You welcomed the hot air like a big hug, eyes shutting in content with a deep sigh.  The tables are empty save for one in the very corner where a businessman sipped on a latte while putting together a powerpoint on his laptop.  Steve leaned against the counter scrolling away until he felt your gaze on him, raising his brows in expectancy.

“You’re here early…”  He points out. 

Irritably, you set your bag on one of the tables before making your way over to the register.  “So what you’re saying is, you’re not happy to see me, Stevie?”  You ask with mock hurt.

Steve scoffs as he stands on the opposite side of the register as if to ring you up.  “You know that’s not what I mean.”  He explains.  “I mean, you seem to be coming in earlier and earlier.  Can’t get enough of me?”  A wink is offered your way.  

You gag at this, painting disgust on your features.  “No offense but you’re not my type and I think you know that by now.”  You joke.  The chances of you and Steve getting together were as great as the chances of him and Robin getting together, zero.  And it was mutual but you had this ongoing joke.  “Now can you please make  me a hot chocolate?”  You request with a pout.  “Pleeeeease.”  You add, swaying back and forth like a child asking their mother for candy.

All you receive in return is an eye roll as he begrudgingly obliges and spins on his heels to prepare the drink.  “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”  You tell him in an annoyingly high pitched voice.  

“Whatever, SOCKS.”  He pronounces the nickname loudly, the businessman in the corner momentarily looking up at him in displeasure.  You give Steve a glare while taking a seat at your chosen table in the book corner, mouthing his words, mocking him with a dramatic facial expression.  

Shortly after taking a seat, Robin emerges from the back and claims the chair next to you silently, her hair thrown up in a messy ponytail on top of her head, face indicating business.  “You see, Steve was given one job and that was to ask you how last night went with Munson but clearly he was incapable of even the smallest task.”  She rants.  “So here I am.  Asking.  How did it go?  Is he still alive?”  She pushes, crossing her arms while awaiting an answer.  

Raising a brow at her, you continue pulling out your laptop as planned.  “I’m only gonna say this once.”  You affirm.  Steve’s ears perk up as he rushes over while struggling to fit the lid onto your hot chocolate, face twisted in concentration as he approaches the table.  “He’s the actual spawn of the devil and I have contemplated quitting–”  Robin goes to interrupt you before you hold up a finger, finishing your thoughts.  “But I will not give him that power and I’m going to keep working and will only talk to him when absolutely necessary.  I’m also going to forever hold a grudge against Steve for even letting Munson hear the nickname ‘Socks’.  My tranquil closing time has become my own private hell, thanks Steve.”  You ramble.  “Also, yes.  He’s still very much alive, unfortunately.”  You say in monotone.

Steve looks taken back, a hand flying up over his heart in surprise, temporarily giving up on securing the lid of your drink.  “Thanks, Steve???  I didn’t personally hire him!  I admit I slipped up on the name but give me a break here.”  He whines.

You reach for the hot chocolate, making grabby hands as you frown at a distraught Steve, hoping he’ll at least nudge the cup toward your reach.  He throws his hands up in the air with a scoff.  “Socks, I didn’t mean to rile you up by not telling you he got hired, okay?!  I made a dumb decision thinking it would be better for you and it bit me in the ass.  I’m sorry.”  In usual Steve fashion he stares at you with giant pleading eyes, his long lashes blinking at you while his lips pout, all pretty and pink as if he were a Barbie doll.  

“Really, Steve?”  Robin mocks, a smirk pulling at her lips.  

You finally pipe up, still reaching for the drink across the table.  “Steve, I’ll forgive you if you hand me my drink.”  You bargain, tongue darting out in concentration as you inch your fingers toward the chocolatey goodness hidden in a paper cup.  Steve snatches it up and pushes it into your hands, the warmth of the beverage consuming your palms.  The lid is still barely sitting on top, you gently pull it off to allow it to cool down.  

Triumphantly, Steve strolls back behind the counter.  “So we’re good?  I’m free of my mistake?”  He shouts to you.  You and Robin share a look, her attempting to take a sip of your hot chocolate only to burn her tongue, a series of huffing noises leaving her as he waves her hands up and down in front of her mouth. 

“Hoth, hoth, hoth.”  She lisps.  

You offer Steve a thumbs up from across the room while shaking your head at Robin.  “All good, Stevie.  Until the next time you cross me.”  You half joke.  “Robin, it’s hot chocolate.  Hot.”  You remind her as she pinches her tongue with her fingers, her brows knit together.  She whines in response, rushing away to relieve her scalded tongue with some water.  It turns out, you didn’t get that gossip session with Robin seeing as she was too occupied with soothing her tongue along with a sudden wave of customers.  Next time, you suppose.  You’ll have another chance to rant and rave to each other soon enough.

–

The espresso machine whirs and creates a hum as you craft a macchiato for the customer standing idly by the to go counter.  It’s 5:15.  And you work the shop alone.  Not that you would usually complain, the evening rush was nothing you couldn’t handle on your own but training a new hire wasn’t something you could bypass so either way it would need to get done and the sooner your new terror of a coworker could do things independently, the better.  And yet, he was fifteen minutes late, nowhere in sight, not even the roar of his stupid motorcycle in the distance.

Robin and Steve had taken off at five on the dot, Steve complaining that he was responsible for hauling everyone to Lucas’ basketball game and you grateful for having the night shift.  Sports were a complete snoozefest and although you’d love to support Lucas it just wasn’t your scene.  Of course you’d go when you were free but there was that sliver of relief when you weren’t required to subject yourself to the highschool gym full of sweaty kids and squeaking shoes.

With a polite smile, the drink is gingerly handed to the customer and you are offered a half assed thank you before they exit, no eye contact while they stare down at their phone.  You shrug it off, glancing around at the few people that are lounging around at the tables either working on their laptops or reading.  Everyone seems satisfied and no tables are in need of tidying or wiping down so you return to the hot chocolate you had been nursing, now chocolate milk if anything but still delicious.  Leaning against the counter as you sip, you allow yourself a moment of meditation, breathing in–and out–in—and out, the cocoa taste lingering on your tongue in between sips.

As if god himself had it out for you, your brief moment of silence and tranquility is rudely interrupted by the blaring engine of a certain someone’s dumbass motorcycle, whipping around the corner and into a spot dead center in front of the shop.  You note that you’ll have to have a conversation with him about parking in the back so customers can actually use those spots provided–he won’t listen but at least Ronnie won’t be able to put the blame on you.  Rolling your eyes at the delinquent, he makes his way into the building, pulling his helmet off and shaking his shaggy mane around like a dog.

Knowing that you can’t reprimand him the way you so desire in front of customers, you shoot him daggers from where you lean, gripping the paper cup tight enough to leave crescents from your nails.  If he doesn’t even have the decency to show up for work on time, why should you have to endure closing with him every night?  Why is it that you’re seemingly being punished by the universe?  Haven’t you had enough already?  My apartment sucks, I sleep on a lumpy mattress in the corner on the hard ass floor, my heater doesn’t work even though it's getting cold, hell, even some of my lights don’t work, rent is being raised next month, classes are kicking my ass, and now that actual spawn of satan gets to unleash his wrath on me every day.  The thoughts consume you momentarily until Eddie spins around from clocking in on the computer, delivering a smirk with an amused expression underlying his features.  And you’re having none of it, it’s only his second day and he’s pulling this shit?  Absolutely not.  

Your brows furrow in rage but your voice comes out in a hushed but cruel whisper.  “Were you out rolling with the raccoons again?”  You refer to the time he crashed one of Steve’s parties, maybe it was New Years; he got so wasted that he began befriending some raccoons out near the pool.  He laid on the ground for at least two hours and nearly cried when they ran off, crushing whatever dream he had of either taking them home or whatever he was planning in his drunken state of mind.  In any case, it was something everyone held over him, especially you on the rare occasion that you had to associate with him–so if he wanted to dick around at work and make your life hell (as if he hadn’t already done that) then you would throw anything you could at him to cause him grief.  There was no playing nice.  

The slightest hue of pink makes its way across his cheeks before he straightens his posture in a means to intimidate you.  “Calm down there, Socks.  Don’t get your panties in a twist over lil ol’ me.”  His brow raises as if to challenge you.  Your comment got to him–flustered him.  He’s trying to hide it but you can detect the embarrassment seeping out of his pores, the hatred he has for the fact that he let his vulnerability slip out in his drunken haze that night and the look on your face indicating that you have the upperhand here.  

Taking the lid off of your remaining hot chocolate gone cold, you slurp up the contents of the cup, a layer of the melty whip cream decorating your top lip as you give him a cocky glare.  “Trust me, nobodies getting their panties in a twist over you, Munson.”  You reply, checking around him to make sure no customers are listening in on the exchange.  

His notorious grin takes over his features, dimples on full display and you could just kick him in his stupid teeth.  Leaning in ever so slightly, his breath fans over your face, tobacco evident.  One hand rests next to you on the counter, the other gripping his helmet.  “Nice stache.”  He whispers, tapping the counter twice before heading toward the back.

Nice stache?  What kind of come back–oh.  You gently bring your fingers up to your top lip, feeling the obvious whip cream sitting comfortably there and you feel your blood run hot in embarrassment as well as rage.  What makes it worse is that he had nothing to do with it, it just happened and that gave him the upperhand in return.  The universe or some higher power really it out for you and clearly wasn’t rooting for you in this war.  

Tossing the cup angrily into the trash and wiping off your lip, a quiet groan escapes you, Eddie sauntering in actually wearing an apron today.  Except it's littered in several pins and patches, some room in between to add more later on.  “Do you even care that you’re–” You check the clock.  “Twenty minutes late?!”  You finish, still attempting to stay quiet enough that the remaining customer’s wouldn’t hear.  “And–and your apron.  Do you think you can do whatever you want?”  You whisper yell furiously.  A stupid question, you realize as it tumbles out of your mouth.

“Yes, actually.  I’m a free man in a free country.  What a foreign concept.”  He says tying his hair back into a low bun, a few select pieces framing his face.  “Why don’t you worry about yourself.”  He snaps.  “Also…”  He begins with a point of his finger.  “Who the hell drinks hot chocolate as someone who works in a coffee shop?”  He mocks.  You can’t help but glance at the glint that catches at his earlobe, a little silver hoop reflecting off the lights, something you otherwise wouldn’t notice if not for his hair being pulled back.  You would dare to even call it cute if he wasn’t such a menace, an absolute barbarian that you vowed to never give the time of day to again and yet here you are, giving several hours of your life.

A scoff is earned from you while you cross your arms, leaning on one hip with sass.  The attitude is there but you have no response to counter him.  He stares at you expectantly and you come up with nothing but a mumble under your breath.  “Caffeine makes me anxious.”  He barely catches it, humming for you to repeat it again.  “Hot chocolate doesn’t have caffeine in it, I try to limit my caffeine okay!?”  You snap, still quiet enough to not draw attention. 

Rolling his eyes, he seems to ignore your answer and strolls over to the front counter, reaching over and snatching up a ham and cheese sandwich without a care in the world, immediately tearing into it.  You resist the urge to grab it right out of his hand and launch it across the room, instead opting to massage your temples with your fingers, taking deep breaths.  It was either that or you’d have a homicide charge on your hands.  Sure you also snuck sandwiches from the cooler however you were discrete and no one ever noticed.  If Eddie kept it up, you’d get in trouble for his misbehavior.  

“Do you want this job or not?”  You sigh, trying to reason.  He chews disgustingly on the sandwich, crumbs rolling down his chest.  He shrugs.  A scream is awaiting in your lungs, an unreleased scream of pent up rage for the immature boy towering over you.  It doesn’t escape but it so desperately wants to.  “Munson.”  You grit your teeth, fists forming at your sides. 

“Hmm?”  He hums carelessly, scarfing down the remaining bites and tossing the wrapper into the trash.  

Another deep breath, you try to clear your energy.  “If we don’t at least cooperate here, I am out of a job and I cannot afford to be out of a job.”  You plead with him, eyes becoming the slightest bit watery much to your distaste.  It’s not on purpose, things are really just that bad.  

“What?  Did your trust fund run out?”  He bites, and it hurts.  Though it's not the most vile thing someone could say it pinches you and leaves behind a nagging pain.  Trust fund?  Who did he think you were?

“Excuse me?”  You breathe out, stepping slightly closer to him, still on alert for any customers who might listen in but you’re still in the clear.

“Yeah, did mommy and daddy cut you off?  Welcome to the real world.”  His words are like knives cutting into your skin.  They shouldn’t be, you know that.  His words are meaningless to you–are they though?  Where did he even come up with the idea that you came from any sort of wealth?  Sure in high school you were stable enough but nowhere near Harrington wealthy.  Was he referring to you living comfortably?  If that's the case he would be elated to know that you had close to nothing these days.  But you can’t give him that satisfaction.

Brushing off the interaction as if nothing was said, you grab the clipboard from one of the drawers to find where you left off in training last night and what boxes remained to be checked off.  “So yesterday we learned cleaning procedures and counting the register.  Today we pick up learning drink recipes.”  You suck it up and push through.  His words are nothing, he is nothing.  A certain emotion flashes in his eyes when you glance up to scold him for not paying attention.  You can’t put your finger on what it is but it must be some type of regret for taking this job, there’s something sadder to it though.  He is nothing to me but a warning from the universe on what to stay away from.

–

“Okay so five pumps of caramel.”  Eddie confirms with you, eyes drooping in boredom.  The shop is now devoid of customers, the evening rush long gone as it was now 7:30 and you only expected to see maybe five more customers at most before closing, giving you ample time to stuff Eddie’s dumb brain with all the drink recipes possible so he could eventually do everything by himself and you’d no longer have to convene with him.

An exhale leaves your lungs while you rest your head in your hands on the counter, shaking your head.  “No.  Four.  Four pumps of caramel.  Four.”  You reiterate, patience wearing thin.  At least he wasn’t arguing with every word that left your mouth.  “Let’s take a break from that one and try this one instead.”  You advise, pushing a new recipe card in front of him.  This one was for a simple iced mocha.  “So for this one you start off with three pumps of chocolate and then two shots of espresso.”  You instruct, eyes tired and the bags underneath them giving it away.

Eddie reaches for one of the syrups and before you can stop him, he’s pumping three pumps of hazelnut into the cup, your hand smacking your face in frustration.  “Eddie, do you just not read the labels?”  You question.

He fakes a laugh, shoving the syrup back into its place.  “Do you just not read the labels?”  He mocks in a high voice.  Your patience is wavering but you know you just need to get through this.  The sooner he finishes training, the sooner you will have peace and quiet.  

“Try again.”  You tell him, holding back all of the anger rattling in your bones.  He rolls his eyes and grabs the correct syrup this time.  Except as he pumps it into the cup, you find that his pumps are way too big, not like you taught him earlier.  He’s pushing down too far.  “Too far!  You’re pumping too far, it’s too much!”  You tell him as the bottom of the cup becomes filled too high with chocolate, practically taking up where the espresso should go.

“Okay, you are like the worst teacher ever.”  He states while sloshing around the flavored syrup in the clear cup, coating it around the sides as it maneuvers in his hand.  

A hand drags down your face and you swear you’ve lost years of your life just in the past two nights.  “Train yourself then.”  You slap your hand on the counter, making your way over to the book corner and taking a seat in your favorite spot near the window to gaze at the streetlights.  

His face contorts in confusion as if he had no idea why you were giving up on him.  “Fine.”  He mutters, taking a look at the little card that had the instructions for an iced vanilla coffee concoction.  He can’t stop himself from glancing over to you in the corner, the warm glow of the street lights embracing you like a blanket.  And he can’t shy away from the pang of guilt in his chest.  Yet he continues to find himself at your throat every time, and you at his rightfully so.  At least you have reason to be, he’s just a pathetic excuse of emotions buried under skin that dug himself so deep into a hole over the years there was no way out and all he could do was what he did best–shove people away and just play the part that had always been assigned to him since birth.

The sudden wail of the blender has you jolting and looking over behind the counter only to find Eddie manning the machine.  You were too beyond exhausted to care anymore.  If he wanted to start making milkshakes in spite of you then so be it.  Your sight continued to set on the glow of the streetlights over the sidewalk.  It didn’t rain today or tonight thankfully since you’d have to walk home.  As you close your eyes, you imagine the warmth of the lights engulfing you and bask in the heat of the shop, silently cursing your landlord for not being attentive to your broken heater, leaving you with chattering teeth every night.  If you could sleep in the back room you would, however that would be an awkward conversation with Ronnie and the openers, Max and El who took on the earliest shift from 4:30AM to 8:30AM, when Robin and Steve would relieve them of their duties.  It was funny how your whole group seemed to now run The Under-Ground but you couldn’t come up with a better team if you tried.  Save for Eddie, you could definitely find someone a hundred times better and then you would have the perfect team.  

You continued to wander around in your imagination, the blender coming to a halt but you were too lost to even open an eye.  The sound of cups scattering on the counter had you wincing but not once leaving your mind, not yet.  It was rare that you were able to just sit and not think about the stressors in your life.  That relaxation is shattered when a cup is slammed down in front of you, the noise causing you to jump back in your seat, eyes flashing open only to be meant with a perfectly curated blended iced mocha, down to the whip cream and chocolate drizzle on top.  Behind it stands Eddie with his arms crossed in front of his chest, eyes stuck on the drink and not your reaction.  All you offer is a nod, hand wrapping around the cup as you push it back toward him across the dark wood.  What did he want?  An applause?  He did his job, congratulations. 

“Good?”  He asks for approval, much to your surprise.  

“Mhm.”  You nod again, standing up and making your way back behind the counter, leaving him to stare at his creation.  There was no way you would give him any type of praise even if he did make the drink without any flaws.  

“You didn’t even taste it.”  He continues to stare down at the beverage on the table, his voice monotone.

As you start to mark a few things off for inventory, pen gliding across the paper, you hold out your other hand, paying him no mind in any other manner.  Reluctantly, he scoops up the drink and strides over, shoving it in your hand like a pissed off child.  You take a sip and are impressed that it actually tastes good but rather than give him any kind of compliment, you offer another nod.  He’s starting to hate that response and if he receives another nod from you he may pull his hair out.  The cold condensation stings your palm so you set the drink down, again pushing it toward him without so much as a glance.

“Just admit it, Socks.”  He starts, grabbing the mocha and licking the whip cream from the top.  “I did good and you hate it.  Oh but if King Steve or Robin made it you’d be falling at their feet.”  His tone is low and his gaze is intense as he burns into your side profile.  

Continuing to ignore him, you jot down a few notes on the inventory sheet for some things that Ronnie may need to order more of on the next shipment.  He scoffs, beginning to walk away from you when you decide to speak up.  “Steve and Robin didn’t make me hate myself.”  You remind him.  It’s as if time slowed down the moment you spoke, the way you let the words roll off your tongue so truthfully, as if those words were in the bible.  Eddie wasn’t religious by any means but that’s how disastrous your words felt.  Yet he still finds comfort in playing his part.

“I made you hate yourself?”  He seethes.  “I made you hate yourself.”  He repeats gritting his teeth.  He knows he shouldn’t let himself go any further, it's a bad idea and it's simply not true what he’s about to say.  But he can’t stop himself from assuming his role, he doesn’t know any different.  He shouldn’t venture into territory where he knows he can never return from.  “Babe.”  The name is far from its endearing meaning, its dripping in hostility, soaked in venom.  “I never made you hate yourself, you did that just fine all on your own.”  The moment the words pierce the air he knows he shouldn’t have said them because there wasn’t even the slightest hint of honesty.  The ugliest parts of him jumped out and now he has to suffer the damages.

A swell of tears stings the backs of your eyes and you desperately suck them back, refusing to let him have this.  Your fists clench as you drop the pen from your grasp, your side profile still facing him, him standing in your peripheral.  Suddenly you're gripping the counter with white knuckles, slowly shifting your gaze to the cowardly man a few feet away.  His mouth opens and closes as if trying to take back what he said but he’s coming to realize it isn’t an option.  In all honesty, the way you look right now frightens him.  There’s suddenly no emotion behind your gaze.  And then you fire right back at him.

“I hope you hate yourself just as much as I hate myself.  I hate you more than I hate myself.”  It stings like a deep scrape after you’ve fallen off your bike as a child, the dirt wedging itself into the skin.  Again, his mouth opens and closes but there’s nothing to respond with.  This may be his last shift since you’re probably going to tell Ronnie that he did some kind of fucked up thing just to get him fired and Ronnie will believe you over him–of course he will.  He deserves it.  But it would also mean he’s back right where he started, no one wanting to hire him.  The Munson name really carried its burdens.  He already had a secure job during the day at the auto shop, Jax & Sons but he needed the extra income.  The only reason Ronnie hired him at The Under-Ground was because the owner, Beth’s husband Sam, owned The Hideout and Eddie was at least welcome there with the other rejects most of the time.  While The Hideout wasn’t hiring, Sam referred him to The Under-Ground and assured him he would put in a good word with his wife.  They were too good to him and he was starting to regret their kindness toward him, he deserved to be run over and have the shit kicked out of him.

No further words were spoken the rest of the night.  Eddie was handed the clip board with the checklist for training, a silent demand that he train himself the rest of the shift while you occupied yourself with finishing some inventory, cleaning, and serving the few customers that came in.  He quietly figured things out, familiarizing himself with the ingredients and learning quicker than he thought.  Whenever he had a question, he refrained and decided he’d either ask you at a later time or eventually sort it out on his own.  He should quit but there weren’t any other options if he wanted to keep himself fed and continue saving up to get out of Hawkins.  Nowhere else was going to hire him, especially for the night shift.  He was lucky they even trusted him to close with a girl though Sam seemed to put the rumors about him to rest if his wife and Ronnie had anything to hold against him and he would forever be grateful although now he didn’t feel he deserved that grace even if he was an innocent man that never amounted to the things his dad did.  

–

Night after night for the remainder of the week, the evening shift was filled with tension and bruised feelings.  If you had to so much as speak to Eddie it would be short and to the point, no sugarcoating.  Each time you instructed him to clean something or do a task he would roll his eyes but oblige.  He was the least of your problems and you were going to make sure it stayed that way.  His training was almost complete and he was starting to pick up on a rhythm which meant you wouldn’t have to engage with him nearly as much.  By Friday you’d fallen into a routine and while not in the best of circumstances, it was fine since not a whole lot of arguing happened since the previous incident.

You would attend to the customers with a friendly smile and a higher than your normal octave voice as usual and he would be his sarcastic self while also seeming to charm people with his damn dimples.  Ronnie didn’t appear to be phased by all the pins and patches that adorned Eddie’s apron when he made an appearance randomly yesterday, to your dissatisfaction.  You guess as long as none of them had anything offensive then he left him alone.  Why did you care anyway?  You didn’t.  

The evening swarm of coffee addicts had arrived and you churned out drinks left and right, earning tips with the help of your perky attitude that you’d learn to put on over time.  It aggravated you that Eddie had no issue charming his way into bigger tips, it’s like he was a professional.  Some patrons would give him nasty looks while others, particularly the older moms who you’d definitely seen with a husband at some point, would pay him extra attention and drop larger bills into the tip jar while flipping their hair and lingering around longer than necessary.  It made your stomach churn.  Regardless, you continued to put on a smile and work through the rush, hoping by the end of the night the tips split up would give you a little bit of extra rent money to save for next month.  It wasn’t like you were in a position to save money, living paycheck to paycheck but something had to give and you needed that cushion so you actually had a place to live.

As the night winded down and people were heading home, neglecting the coffee shop until early in the morning, you took a rag to the tables to clean and straighten up while Eddie obnoxiously banged on the espresso machine that had been giving everyone a hard time all week, periodically getting stuck and then spewing espresso everywhere.  “Fuckin’ piece of shit machine.”  He mutters, trying to pry off the panel to get a look inside at the machinery.  

Not wanting to be responsible for a five hundred dollar machine broken by none other than your jackass coworker, you decide to step in, shouting over to him.  “Would you knock it off?  We have someone who comes in to fix the machines and I’m not going to be responsible–”  A loud clank of metal stops you as Eddie jiggles a screwdriver you weren’t even sure how he found in the machine.  He pries the screwdriver into the machine as if trying to loosen something stuck in the gears, succeeding when a few coffee beans fly out and fall to the floor, a shit eating grin on his face.

“Fixed it.”  He confirms, shutting the panel and running the machine with a test shot of espresso, the liquid coming out smoothly rather than spraying him in the face.  You shake your head, choosing to keep your mouth shut.  If anything bad happens with the machine you didn’t see it and it wasn’t your fault.  You were not an accomplice if it malfunctioned on his watch.

Eddie glances over at you now sweeping up under one of the tables, somewhat disappointed that you won’t revel in his victory over the machine but also remembering the atmosphere he created from the very beginning, never deserving your positive attention in the first place.  It was 8:00PM, only an hour away from closing and the college students who had occupied the tables earlier were no longer around, the only sounds being the upbeat jazz music playing from the speakers.  He sparked an idea.  

Jogging to the back room where his eye caught the music system the very first day, he starts messing around with it, fingers searching in the back where his eyes can’t see behind the wall for a wire.  Biting his lip in concentration, he locates it with a triumphant hum.  

Too overcome with sweeping the floors clean, you only notice Eddie is no longer in the room when a shrieking guitar blares through the shop’s speakers, leaving you covering your ears and dropping the broom with a smack to the ground.  It’s some kind of metal song that you’ve possibly heard before but wouldn’t be able to recall the name.  Before you can map out your next moves, Eddie appears in the doorway to the back, grinning ear to ear genuinely.  “I hacked the stereo, how sick is that?”  He goes back to his spot behind the counter, head banging away.

“Shut it off!”  You yell over the noise.  Either he pretends not to hear you or he really can’t hear you over how loud it is.  Now you’re afraid that some of the neighboring businesses will call the cops or something and it’s on your dime.  “Eddie!”  You shout once again with no reaction from him.  You take the initiative and scurry into the back, finding the stereo system with a wire coming out of it and Eddie’s phone plugged in.  You scowl and unplug it, killing all sound, an offended “what the fuck!” heard from the front of the shop as you soothe your ear drums in the quiet.

He starts to make his way toward the back only to be stopped by you nearly running him over as you walk with a purpose back out to finish cleaning.  “Um, excuse you?”  He gestures your way as if you’d stepped on his ego.  

The broom is picked back up from its spot on the floor and you finish off by sweeping the remaining dirt into the dust pan, not responding.  When you look up again, he’s not there and you know he’s definitely gone to the back to plug his phone back in.  Your suspicions are confirmed when the riff is taking over the speakers once again, drums pounding through the sound system.  A groan emerges from deep within you as you empty the dust pan into the trash.  There was no winning with him, he always pushed back and you had no energy to keep up.  As he emerges from the back again, he doesn’t even look in your direction.  

“Can you at least turn it down!?”  You yell over the music, hoping he would find some kind of humility within himself so you didn’t go home with a headache.  It wasn’t just that it was too loud, it was overwhelming, your anxiety was spiking and no matter how much you breathed and told yourself to calm down, the volume of the song playing had your heart rate beating faster than you felt it could even keep up with.  Eddie continues ignoring you, and you know damn well that he heard your request since you were close enough, standing just a few feet away.  You swallowed hard as you attempted to keep your cool, keep your nervous system in check.  I’m okay, I’m okay, nothing is going to happen.   

And there was no reason to believe anything bad would happen but your brain was screaming at you that the escalation of the metal riff playing was a warning signal and you couldn’t talk yourself off the ledge.  As much as you tried to contain your breathing and keep it steady, it became erratic as you stumbled over to one of the tables and thankfully made it into a chair.  Your elbows rested on the table top while you covered your ears in an attempt to muffle the suddenly overwhelming sound that wouldn’t otherwise bother you had it not taken you by surprise earlier and had the volume not been set the highest the speakers allowed.  

The world around you blurred out while you seemed to fall apart because of a stupid issue you had with loud sounds that caught you off guard.  You couldn’t think straight, you couldn’t even think to just run to the back and unplug it again.  You didn’t even register that there were hands waving in front of you and a pair of big brown eyes worriedly looking at you.  His lips were moving but there was no way to understand what was being said in this state.  And then he was gone from your vision as you choked on a breath caught in your throat.  You were about to make a run for the door just to get your bearings back when the room went silent and suddenly things started to slowly become clear again.  When you turn your body in your seat toward the back, Eddie stands there with a shocked expression painted on his face, mouth dropped open.

“I—I didn’t—I’m—I—“  For probably the first time ever Eddie Munson is speechless.  No quirky comments, no stupid jokes, just stuttering.  Your breathing, while a lot better now, is still heavy as you recover from the sudden panic.  “I didn’t know—I wouldn’t have—“  Before he can continue rambling you save him the energy.  

“Just—leave it.”  You demand, putting a hand up to signal him to stop.  A warning to never mention it again.  He owed you that much.

Then he goes on to do something you’d never expect.  He makes his way to the table you’ve sat yourself at and pulls out a chair, sitting across from you.  “Are you okay?”  He asks, eyes wide and concerned, hands clasped together on top of the table as he fidgets with his clunky rings.  What the fuck did he care?  He’d jump at any chance to see you upset, why was right now any different?

All you can do is look at him in distress, displaying how you felt on your face and in your body language.  “Oka—does it look like I’m okay?!”  You respond, throwing your arms up before they fall back into your lap.  Your outburst quickly dwindles, a shyer demeanor taking over as you both linger in the quiet, in the aftermath of what he believes may have been an anxiety attack.  “I’m—I'm fine.”  You finally decide, standing and acting as if nothing just happened, taking your place behind the counter.  Eddie looks dumbfounded, unsure of any of his next moves so as to keep the peace for once in his fucking life.  He’d experienced lots of trauma before but never had to come face to face with the kind of terror that took over your face, never experienced being on the other end of the turmoil.  While he’s sure he’s gone through what you just had except with other triggers, there was not one idea in his head about how to approach the situation, how he would dare to even console you if that’s all you really needed.  In a sense, he’s a tad grateful that you seemed to snap out of it on your own but that also makes him feel like the most terrible person on planet earth.  What kind of man was he if not some duplicate of his dad like everyone says and like he feels he’s doomed to be?  He had been in your shoes before, experienced the true fear you held in your body and no one was there for him.  So when he was there fully capable of providing some kind of comfort, he did nothing and suddenly he was his dad.  In his mind he was his dad, doing nothing, helping no one but himself.  

Suddenly he felt like he was 12 years old again, sinking in on himself but before he could be pulled any deeper he shot up and rapidly blinked his eyes.  And you were there perfectly normal, trying to sneakily set aside a sandwich for yourself but it didn’t go unnoticed, it’s not like he cared though.  Had he become this big of a fuck up without realizing it?  He was no better than the man that abandoned him at 12, he genuinely believed he was on the same path as the man that single handedly tore his son’s life apart, who raised him in a crack house until things got too complicated and left only to be arrested 48 hours later.  Eddie had to stop thinking, he was pulling himself down again, an anchor might as well be tied to his ankle.  

“I—I need a break.”  He exhales, not listening if you had any protests which you didn’t, you just tuned him out as the bell on the door jingled and he stopped outside for a cigarette.  Who smokes cigarettes anymore?  You wonder.  Well you answer your own question when you remember the hick town you live in, many people still smoked cigarettes out here but most of them were older.  It was now around 8:45PM, almost time to go home to try and knock out in the chill stale air of your room.  The bell above the door rings again and you glance up but don’t find Eddie and instead meet the vibrant blue eyes of Jason Carver.  While not a close friend, you’d known each other throughout high school and had a few mutual friends and even found yourselves in some of the same study groups during finals.  

“Hey!”  He greets you like an old friend, a smile on his face, his bright white teeth glimmering in the light.  

“Jason!  I thought you were away for college in Boston.”  You say, remembering that he was able to escape this small town and move onto bigger things.  Of course he was, his family had everything lined up for him.  He stuck to his plan and it seemed to be going well for him.  Something you wish you could say for yourself but you never even had a plan if you’re honest.

“Yeah, I’m just in town for the week.  I flew in earlier today.  My grandmas sick so you know…” He doesn’t finish the sentence and doesn’t have to for you to understand.  

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”  You sympathize with him.  

“No, it’s okay.  This has happened a few times, it just seems like this might be it.”  He tells you with a sad nod of his head.  “Anyway, is that Eddie Munson outside?”  He asks, changing the subject.  You almost roll your eyes at his name but quickly remember how many fights the two had been in previously, usually Eddie walking away with no more than a black eye or a busted lip and Jason always looking worse.  You don’t want to encourage another here tonight so you just nod, shyly avoiding Jason’s gaze.  “Hey, is that freak bothering you while you work?  Is he harassing you?”  He starts to sound like he’s getting worked up, the opposite of your intention.  Jason was always super forward especially when he was agitated which is why you always gravitated away from him.  He’d always put on a sweet front but then come out with pure anger the moment he heard something he didn’t like.  

“No!”  You blurt out, unsure of why you’re even protecting Eddie in any way.  Maybe it’s the fact that while you do hate Eddie with every nerve ending in your body, Jason only hates him for being everything he’s not.  For not being popular, not engaging in sports, not going to church.  None of those are why you hated Eddie but Jason had this bottled up rage toward him and you had the smallest inkling that he was envious in some weird way of the metalhead.  “No, he’s not bothering me.  He just works here and he’s on break.  He doesn’t even talk to me.”  You try to talk him down.  Jason looks at you with suspicion, not fully believing you.  Why you were even explaining yourself to him was beyond you.  

Reluctantly, he drops it and continues on with the small talk which you find yourself growing bored of.  Jason was turning out to be someone that reminded you of your parents, fairly conservative and tightly wound up.  In high school he was a bit more laid back but it seems that whatever college he goes to has morphed him into another stereotypical white guy.  The conversation couldn’t end soon enough for you as he started getting into a story about his frat house.  You tried to hide your distaste but the air just felt sour.  Not once did he even ask what you’d been up to, immediately going off about himself.  As if he could read your mind, the bell above the door is heard and Eddie slowly walks back in, his face twisted in a scowl.  

Jason looks toward him at the sound of the bell, freezing to stare him down as if it would intimidate him.  Did he forget the several times Eddie handed his ass to him?  If this was going to happen again right now, it was guaranteed that with Eddie being a man now, he’d have no problem taking him down.  Jason was a man now too and while he had muscle from what you could see peeking out from under the sleeve of his polo, Eddie had grit and there was no way to go against that.  

“Munson.”  Jason greets with a nod of his head, a fake smile on his face.  Eddie offers no greeting in return, only a glare as he makes his way back behind the counter.  

“Anyway, it was great catching up with you.” Jason directs his attention back to you.  “We should hang out while I’m in town.  Here’s my number.”  He says cockily, using a nearby pen to scribble on one of the shop’s business cards, placing it in your hand.  

“Oh, okay.  Yeah, um.  Okay.”  You respond with uncertainty.  The number would be tossed aside the moment he stepped out the door but you appeased him the best you could while he stood in front of you.  As he backs up toward the door, he shoots you a wink.  While he thinks butterflies are fluttering within you right now, you’re actually internally cringing.  And with that, he was gone, finally.  You piece together that he hadn’t even purchased a coffee.  The more you think about it, he may as well have pissed on you in an attempt to assert dominance over Eddie.  Men were stupid creatures.

Eddie huffs out a laugh as he doodles on his hand, nothing left to do besides leave and lock up.  You pay him no mind while you begin to quickly count the drawer so you’d be able to leave on time.  “Fuckin’ tool.”  Eddie mumbles to himself.

While you agree, you don’t want to give him any satisfaction so you continue counting the money.  Finding that everything is accounted for, you lock up the drawer and grab your bag from the back while Eddie silently does the same.  You meet at the door in some unspoken agreement, him holding the door as you step out into the chill air, turning to shut the door and lock it while he puts his motorcycle helmet on and walks over, straddling his bike.  As you shove the keys back into your bag and start your journey home, he clears his throat.  “Watch out for Carver.  He’s not all sparkles and sunshine.”  He says revving his bike.  Who was he to tell you what to do?  Though you had no interest in Jason whatsoever, you weren’t going to let Eddie tell you what to do, he was the last person on earth you would listen to.  

“Oh, I’m sorry?  I could say the same about you.  You don’t get to tell me who to watch out for.”  You step closer toward the bike, a hand on your hip while the nagging cold pinches at your skin.  If your jaw was tightened it was both out of anger and due to the cold.  

“Listen, Socks–”

“Don’t call me that.”  You snap.

“I’m serious, Carver–”  His voice is muffled under the helmet.

“You’ve got a lot of fucking nerve trying to tell me what I can and can’t do, Munson.”  You’re trying to get in his face somewhat but it's hard and a little humiliating when you can only see a reflection of yourself in his visor.

“When something happens you can’t say I didn’t warn you.”  He points a finger at you sternly.

“Oh!  My hero!”  You say with sarcasm laced in the words.  “I don’t need some drop out lecturing me about what I do or who I associate with in my free time.”  The insult shouldn’t affect him, he’s been called every name in the book.  But it does, for some reason it does.  

“Do whatever the hell you want.”  You can’t see his face under the helmet but if you could you knew he’d be clenching his teeth and flexing his jaw by the way he said it.  In seconds he speeds away, bike screeching annoyingly down the street. 

It had been a long day.  A long week even.  The only silver lining was that tomorrow was your Friday and after that you’d have at least one day to not think about work and Eddie Munson’s stupid attitude.  The shop was closed on Sundays and though it wasn’t very enticing to think about sitting in your room catching up on homework, it was far better than having to argue with the equivalent of a stubborn six year old in a man’s body.

Eddie on the other hand was feeling things he’d never experienced before.  There was this persistent worry in the back of his mind that he didn’t know what to do with.  His emotions had been gathered up and thrown into the wind so suddenly and he was struggling to grasp every single one so he could tuck it away again.  And you only angered him beyond comprehension, even if he deserved every venomous word thrown his way, he couldn’t deny that you provoked him in ways no other human has.  The way you had no issue with telling him off but let Jason talk over you made his blood boil.  It was none of his business, genuinely.  That’s what he told himself but deep down he knew it was his business the second Jason flashed that fake smile at him that said everything.   

~end~

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tags - @mmunson86 @haylaansmi @batkin028 @obscureenigmatic

[clatterbane]

One good thing that came out of today's early morning trip out for more bullshit bloodwork: I found some promising-looking vegetables, which are pretty exotic by local standards but remind me of home! One of the benefits of living in an immigrant-heavy neighborhood. (Doesn't really matter where from IME, just as long as it's got longer warmer growing seasons there.) Hasty lap shot of today's haul when I was about to head home.

Much better view after getting home! Some nice young examples of one common Middle Eastern variety of summer squash, along with some okra. Which was borderline overgrown by my standards, but it didn't feel like it was going all tough and dried out yet--and it's the nicest fresh okra my admittedly near-hermit ass has spotted in years.

On the way home this morning, I got Mr. C to drop me at the nearby shopping center, so I could pick up an Instabox package (shoes) and enjoy the weather and a little exercise while "strolling" the rest of the way.

It was still early enough that at least half the businesses weren't even open yet, but that also meant that things were enough less busy that I felt like I could get in more easily for a better look at a couple of stores I'd wanted to check out more. One of them a halal butcher shop with attached fruit and vegetable shop just across from there, obviously run by the same people. Both are usually mobbed enough that I haven't felt like shoving myself in--especially with the chair.

The butcher side was still not looking so accessible, even with only a couple of other customers in there, plus a few workers finishing getting things set up for the day. I also figured that I didn't really need to go on an early-morning meat buying spree in hot weather--much less when my backpack was already completely full of shoebox, and carrying capacity was already pretty limited. So, no meat for me.

The other side did, however, lure me over with some gorgeous plums. Which sadly turned out to still be so hard that I noped away from those. Yes, I am that produce prodder, and I can be particular. Was hoping they would have some nice leafy greens out front today, but no such luck.

But, then I did spot the okra and then the squash.

I didn't grab much today, since I am the only one in the house who really likes either thing. Plus the okra was running the equivalent of US$7.69/kg, or roughly $3.50/lb. 😓 Squash was $2.90/ or $1.30/lb by comparison. I got away at about $2.50 for both of them together, which really wasn't at all bad by local standards. I am also cheap as hell sometimes and also still mentally comparing with prices on locally grown squash and okra in a much more rural area 15-20 years ago when I was last buying anything back home.

I am also now lowkey pining for some Floyd County peaches, and J. Random Farmer's cantaloupes that he's selling off his truck by the road. Then there's the fresh just-picked regional variety corn. 🙄

If that okra is any good and I see more there in nearly as good a shape, I may have to pick up enough more to try pickling a few jars of it. That's one thing that I do miss sometimes, and I don't really want to try with the frozen stuff--which is usually better for cooking than what I see fresh anymore.

The produce side also carries a bunch of dried fruits and nuts, and some other loose bulk goods including some interesting-looking Afghan brown sugar in like fist-sized chunks which I'd never seen before, but made me think of panela or jaggery. May need to try me some of that.

Also looks like the place to go if you want a sack of pumpkin seeds or similar at reasonable prices! Today I did not, and also did not particularly want to carry that home in my lap because that would have been the only place for it.

Their produce is all out front, but I did go ahead and bull my way back through the rest of the store to get a good look at the dry goods. Needed to shove a couple of obstructions out of the way in the narrow aisles, but I was the only customer in there at that point and idgaf. It was well worth a look around. May need to go back another morning after a few things that looked good.

There is also a spice shop a couple of doors down, which always smells heavenly to go past but is usually so packed that even Mr. C hesitates to peruse it on foot. There were few enough people in there too that I had to roll through and case the joint. Did look and smell like some quality stuff at decent prices. Also some pretty good looking bulk bin dried fruits and nuts and other snack items, and some assorted Middle Eastern sweets. I didn't buy anything there either today, but will probably need to make a morning raid on that too before too long.

But yeah, the day was not all bad. I also got to see a delightful young Boxer out for a walk on the way home.

[kvetchlandia]

G. Frank Pearsall Walt Whitman, New York City c.1872

The negro holds firmly the reins of his four horses, the block swags underneath on its tied-over chain, The negro that drives the long dray of the stone-yard, steady and tall he stands pois'd on one leg on the string-piece, His blue shirt exposes his ample neck and breast and loosens over his hip-band, His glance is calm and commanding, he tosses the slouch of his hat away from his forehead, The sun falls on his crispy hair and mustache, falls on the black of his polish'd and perfect limbs.

I behold the picturesque giant and love him, and I do not stop there, I go with the team also.

In me the caresser of life wherever moving, backward as well as forward sluing, To niches aside and junior bending, not a person or object missing, Absorbing all to myself and for this song.

Oxen that rattle the yoke and chain or halt in the leafy shade, what is that you express in your eyes? It seems to me more than all the print I have read in my life.

My tread scares the wood-drake and wood-duck on my distant and day-long ramble, They rise together, they slowly circle around.

I believe in those wing'd purposes, And acknowledge red, yellow, white, playing within me, And consider green and violet and the tufted crown intentional, And do not call the tortoise unworthy because she is not something else, And the jay in the woods never studied the gamut, yet trills pretty well to me, And the look of the bay mare shames silliness out of me.

-- Walt Whitman, "Song of Myself, XIII" c.1867

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 21 (Granny Plantsim?!)

"You're really pregnant? How many months? How big is the baby right now?" Holly took in her sister's news during a quick visit to see her in Brindleton Bay.

"Two months, and not very big. About the size of a plum, I think."

"Wow! I can't believe I'm going to be an auntie! What are you and Malcolm going to do about it?"

"I'm going to raise the baby alone, actually. I haven't told him yet."

Holly's eyes bulged. "Are you sure you know what you're getting into? Have you talked to Mom and Dad?"

Heather shook her head. "I haven't been home to Henford in a while and I don't want to tell them this news over the phone."

Less than an hour after Holly left to return to San Myshuno, Heather's mother called. "Holly tells me we need to have you over for dinner tonight."

Heather rolled her eyes and laughed. "Of course she did. What are you cooking?"

When Heather arrived in Henford, she was shocked to see her mother with leafy hair and green skin. A tree with a thick trunk and feathery lilac leaves stood in the yard next to their cowplant skeleton, and Neal glanced at his green-haired wife with a loving shake of his head. "You actually did it!" Heather cried. Daisy had grown a portal to an enchanted forest with magic beans, plucked a forbidden fruit, and eaten it whole. "Does it feel weird only needing the sun to refill your hunger?"

"It's the strangest sensation I've ever experienced - even stranger than the wobbled gravity field past Sixam when I went to space. The researcher in me can't wait to write all about it, but I miss your Dad's veggie burgers already."

"How long until the effects of the fruit wear off?"

"A few months. Sometimes half a year. I'll be back to my old self by River and Cassandra's wedding."

"And by the time you'll be a grandmother, hopefully."

Her mother's temporarily green eyes bulged. "You're pregnant?" she said, unsure whether to be elated or concerned. "Is Malcolm the father?"

Heather nodded. "He is. But I've decided to raise the baby alone."

"Are you sure? Maybe I should move in with you to help out," mused Daisy.

"My house is too small for you, me, the cats, and a baby!"

"It's just that your father and I always had each other when you kids were small. We never wanted you to struggle."

"I'll be fine, Mom. I'm like you: When I set my mind to something, I'll see it through," Heather said. "I've thought hard about this since I found out. I know it won't be easy. But I'm ready to do this. I'm ready to be a mom and run my clinic, and I know you'll all be a phone call away if I'm ever in over my head."

With her assurance, her family offered warm congratulations to Heather's life-changing news.

In San Myshuno, Malcolm fretted over what to do for months. He knew his mother expected grandchildren and he wanted children someday, but he was only 25. He didn’t want one right now, and he’d broken things off with Heather, in part, because they’d come from such different worlds and had such different ideas about family. But even after Everett returned to Oasis Springs, Malcolm didn’t hear from Heather, so he took advantage of her silence to put off dealing with his major problem until Heather was only a trimester away from delivery.

But then his mother returned from work one evening and called her son into the kitchen. "I heard quite the piece of gossip at work today. Apparently the owner of Brindleton Pawspital will need family leave soon. How long have you known?"

Malcolm's stomach twisted, and Nancy could tell from his dropped shoulders he'd been lying to her.

"I know that girl is carrying my grandchild and I'll prove it with every resource at my disposal if need be. Is her cat-infested home even safe for a child?"

"Mom, let me deal with it."

"Are you actually going to deal with it, Malcolm? Because if you want to keep sitting on your hands-"

"I said I'll deal with it."

Malcolm still had no idea what he was going to do, but now he had to think fast. ->

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[toffeechad]

▂▃▄▅▆▇█▓▒░ My new pinned!░▒▓█▇▆▅▄▃▂

【Fictive indicators!!】

ꕥ = Major kin!

ᰔᩚ = Semi-major kin!

✬ = Partial kin!

My system's fictionkins/fictives:

Puffball (BFDI) ꕥ (my main fictive!)

Fries (BFDI) ꕥ

Eraser (BFDI) ✬

Pen (BFDI) ꕥ

Golf Ball (BFDI)

Tennis Ball (BFDI) ꕥ

TV (BFDI) ✬

Leafy (BFDI) ꕥ

Firey (BFDI) ꕥ

Winner (BFDI) ꕥ

Flower (BFDI) ꕥ

Dora (BFDI) ᰔᩚ

Four (XFOHV/BFDI) ꕥ

X (XFOHV/BFDI) ꕥ

Hatsune Miku (VOCALOID) ꕥ

Stella (Angry Birds) ᰔᩚ

Bloody Bunny (Bloody Bunny) ✬

Mumu (Bloody Bunny) ✬

Dark Rabbit (Bloody Bunny) ✬

Rainbow Dash (MLP) ꕥ

Pyro (TF2) ✬

Dave (DFAC/FNF) ꕥ

Bambi (FNF) ᰔᩚ

Tristan (DFAC2/FNF) ✬

DATA_EXPUNGED (FNF)

Bandu (FNF) ᰔᩚ

Bendu (FNF) ✬

Ringi (FNF) ᰔᩚ

Bambom (FNF) ✬

Marjia (Muse Dash) ✬

Buro (Muse Dash) ᰔᩚ

Sorbet Shark Cookie (Cookie Run) ꕥ

Timekeeper Cookie (Cookie Run) ᰔᩚ

Lychee Dragon Cookie (Cookie Run) ✬

Fettuccine Cookie (Cookie Run) ✬

Peni Parker (Spiderverse) ꕥ

Crimson (Total Drama: The Ridonculous Race) ✬

Gardevoir (Pokémon) ✬

Lightbulb (Inanimate Insanity) ꕥ

Test Tube (Inanimate Insanity) ᰔᩚ

Paintbrush (Inanimate Insanity) ᰔᩚ

Bot (Inanimate Insanity) ꕥ (3rd major fictive!)

Shadow the Hedgehog (Sonic) ᰔᩚ

Boboiboy (Boboiboy) ᰔᩚ

Yaya (Boboiboy) ᰔᩚ

Gebura (Lobotomy Corporation) ✬

Strawberry Cream Cookie (Cookie Run) ✬

Kotoko Utsugi (Danganronpa) ꕥ

Babs (Chicken Run) ✬

Shaun (Shaun The Sheep) ꕥ

Speakerwoman (Skibidi Toilet) ᰔᩚ

Mr Strong (The Mr Men Show) ᰔᩚ (2nd major fictive!)

Tweak (Octonauts) ᰔᩚ (4th major fictive!)

Ami (Hi Hi Puffy AmiYumi) ᰔᩚ

Bubble (BFDI) ᰔᩚ

Mr Nervous (The Mr Men Show) ᰔᩚ (5th major fictive!)

Little Miss Daredevil (The Mr Men Show) ꕥ

Little Miss Sunshine (The Mr Men Show) ᰔᩚ

This is my ref sheet!

Main alias: Toffee

Other alias: Lana (my actual name)

She/Her

I'm Aromantic, so uh I'm not interested to be in a romantic relationship

Autistic

16

Aries

My f/o's Mr Tickle from the Mr Men and Little Miss franchise! (Specifically, he's my childhood crush.)

ꕤ MY FREE DRAWING REQUESTS ARE ONLY AVAILABLE AT THE WEEKENDS IN THE MALAYSIAN TIMEZONE! ꕤ

Erm yeah I have spidersonas as well

The Object Spiders of Earth-2763 OLD REF SHEET >>

>> NEW REFS FOR THE OBJECT-SPIDERS OF EARTH-2763

Spider-Fowl

Clymene Moth

Honeycomb Spider

Avicularia

Green Lynx Spider

MORE INFO ABOUT MY EARTH-2763 SPIDERSONAS!!

(REDESIGNS OF THE OBJECT-SPIDERS WILL BE DRAWN SOON.)

I also made a few BFB AUs too!

BFB MDM AU

BFB MDM AU CHARACTER SUMMARY PT 1

BONUS CHARACTERS FOR THE BFB MDM AU

ASK BLOG FOR THE BFB MDM AU!!

EARTH-2763

BFB HUNGER GAMES AU

PROTAGONIST MARKER AU

BATTLE IN LOBCORP: THE TRUMPET OF TWO

CONCEPT OF THE "CONTESTANTS" IN THIS AU

FULL BILC: TTOT INFO LIST

CURRENT UPCOMING AU I'M MAKING:

FLOWERET: A MR MEN AND LITTLE MISS INFECTION AU

If you're wondering what does my persona look like, feel free to click here!

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ List of my awesome besties!! ☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

◍ Cooki_Alt

◍ Exsio Picore

◍ NovaAzurite

◍ Moonsprout-sys

◍ MochaBlogger

◍ Trashbins_Stuff

◍ artismeyou-12

◍ vaap0r_wave

◍ B0nb0n

◍ wowwzaaxei

◍ heartsfortwotpot

◍ Branimator

◍ slimebottlesilly

◍ the-random-creechur

DNI if you're hella problematic especially for: NSFW, Proship, Israel supporters, UNTITLED BLOGS, fetish, MAP, Sigmas, L*licons, Ableists, P*dos, etc!

Interests: Mr. Men & Little Miss, BFDI, II, Bloody Bunny, MLP, Cookie Run, FNF, Octonauts, Muse Dash, TF2, Sonic The Hedgehog, Mobile Legends, Super Mario, Pokemon, Roblox, Angry Birds, Spiderverse, Vocaloid, Total Drama, The Amazing Digital Circus, South Park, Chicken Run, Mobile Legends, Lobotomy Corporation, Skibidi Toilet and Hi Hi Puffy AmiYumi.