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#lessons ive learned
ars3n1ck · 1 year
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rage aside, i need to wear my marble hornets merch out more often, i think itd be fun, plus ive spent so much fucking money on it. just pray i nvr meet a marble hornets fan irl
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cozylittleartblog · 1 year
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diversity win your spam emails are queer
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feelo-fick · 4 months
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I WANT ENDLESS BLISS!!!
HALF-AWAKE, HALF-DEAD, HALF-LIFE CRISIS
ALL NATURAL POMEGRANATE PULP.
FERMENTED TO PERFECTION, SAVOUR YOUR SAVIOR.
Q: What's your favourite food? A: THE ALE THEY SERVE AT THE TAVERN!
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other versions : )
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starkidmunson · 3 months
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glitter & crimson
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8
If Steve behaves during workouts over the next few days, he can’t be blamed. He’s trying to prove to his coaches and the team’s medical staff that he’s not rushing a return to the ice, but that he’s ready to lace up and get back out there. He bargains his way out of the full plastic face protection mask, opting for a full cage instead. By Sunday, he’s participating in the last full team practice before they pack up to leave Chicago, keeping up with his teammates despite how much he felt he’d been struggling just days earlier.
“You holding up?” Max asks, loudly, as he skates past where a few of the team doctors are sitting, observing and chatting.
“I’m fine,” He answers, and takes a shot, scoring past their goalie who had belly-flopped in the opposite direction of the puck. 
A few of his teammates ‘whoop’, while the goalie slams his stick against the ice, shoving a glove off his hand to flip Steve off, before getting back to work. 
Steve just snorts and skates back toward Max, holding his arms out. “Would you like to do a formal exam? I promise I’m good. I feel good.” He swears, winking at the redhead, scrunching up the side of his face still recovering, immediately wincing. She rolls her eyes and he laughs softly at himself. “Okay, that didn’t feel good, but that’s just because I’m dumb.”
“Not dumb!” She chastises, pointing at him, and the look on her face tells him he’s about to get a scheduled lecture from the entire Party about how he talks about himself again, so he opts to skate away instead, avoiding digging a hole for himself he can’t get out of.
It’s suspiciously quiet and seemingly empty at the apartment that afternoon until Steve ultimately finds Robin lying across his bed. His clothes are scattered everywhere around her. She shoots him a sheepish smile when he drops his bag beside her and raises an eyebrow.
“I was hoping to figure out a few outfits for you to take and look hot for your date with Eddie, but then I realized I have no idea how to dress you to impress a man.” She says, flopping back into the pillows.
Steve snorts and rolls his eyes. “I don’t think that was supposed to be an insult, but, ya know…” He trails off and laughs as Robin tosses a pillow in his direction.
“You know what I mean!”
“I do,” Steve laughs, catching the pillow and sitting beside Robin, picking at the seam of the pillowcase. “If it’s any consolation, I also have no idea how to dress me to impress guys. But I also don’t think impressing Eddie is going to have anything to do with what I wear. At least I hope it won’t.”
Robin makes a gagging noise, but it’s around a little smile, and Steve rolls his eyes before laying beside her, shoving a few tops out of his way. She waits until he’s not looking at her to speak again, both of them looking at the ceiling over his bed. “I just really want this to work for you. You deserve to be happy.” 
“I am happy, Robbie. I promise.” Steve’s softer, and for the first time in a long time, he thinks he honestly means it. Robin turns her head to look at him for a second before she wiggles closer to him and rests her head against his shoulder.
“You’re going to have to actually ask him out on a date, though, you know.” She says after a few beats, which makes him laugh.
“Not if he beats me to it,” He teases, pressing a little kiss to Robin’s temple. “But yeah, I know. I think I’m getting there.”
They lay like that for a few more minutes before Robin eventually shoves herself away from him, demanding he shower before they cuddle anymore. When Steve reenters his bedroom after a hot shower, he finds Robin has paired several tops to pants and folded them together, giving him options for outfits.
“I am humanly capable of dressing myself. I’ve been doing it for nearly 30 years now, you know.” He teases, and she rolls her eyes as he towel dries his hair. He drops the towel into his hamper and tips his head, makes an impressed face. “I wouldn’t have thought to put those pants with that top though, and I think it might just work.” He adds, lifting one of the pairings Robin has come up with and setting it into his travel bag. Robin grins and holds a finger up for him to wait, dashes out of the room, and returns a few moments later with a gray cardigan. “One step too far.” He teases, taking it from her hands and eyeing it skeptically.
“Just trust me on this? You look cuddly when you’re cozy.” She insists, so he sighs and packs it away despite his reservations.
Robin haphazardly throws a few pair of underwear, three tops and a single pair of jeans into a backpack and declares she’s ready to make the trip. 
It’s an early call at the airport on Monday, and Steve’s mostly still asleep as Robin slips into the window seat, pulling him along with her. He uses her shoulder, in combination with a neck pillow, as a headrest to sleep the flight away and he wakes up to his ears popping on the dissent, feeling a little more rested.
The players travel from the airport to check in at the hotel, then a few make their way to do tourist-y things around the city. Steve and Robin tag along, but end up breaking off from the group a few bars in along Broadway. They settle themselves into a corner and share a fishbowl sized concoction, and Steve texts Eddie to let him know they’ve arrived safe and sound and have already hit the town.
Eddie responds to the photo of Steve and Robin sipping from straws in the same bowl with a selfie Gareth took. Eddie’s in the background, using what looks to Steve like an oversized inhaler. He’s up in an instant, making his way around the woman performing on the small stage and outside onto the street where it’s not as noisy so he can call Eddie.
“That was fast,” Eddie teases, and he sounds fine, which confuses Steve further.
“Are you okay? What’s with the inhaler?” He asks, and Eddie’s quiet for a beat.
“Oh, no, Stevie, that’s not a… it’s a nebulizer. I was laying down vocal tracks earlier and it helps keep me from losing my voice.” He explains, then quickly follows up. “Oh my god, did you call because you were worried? That’s so… god, you’re adorable, you know that?”
Steve feels himself blush, and is grateful that they’re on a voice call and not a FaceTime, because Eddie would only tease him more if he could see the shade of red he’s sure his face is. “Shut up, I wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“You’re so fucking sweet, Stevie.” Eddie’s voice is like butter, his charm on maximum, and Steve bites at his lip as he listens. “How long are you in town after the game?”
“Back to Chicago on Thursday for two days, then we hit a road stretch for most of next week.” Steve answers, and Eddie hums. “What’s that for?” Steve asks, genuinely curious.
“Means I’m trying to figure out if I want to hit the road, or wait until you’re back in Chicago for more than two days to make the next trip to see you.” 
Steve takes a deep breath at that, smiles, and lets out a huff of air that sounds like a light laugh. “I’m going to go back into the bar and finish this fishbowl, then we’re going back to the hotel to swim and sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow, after the game, okay?”
“I thought you didn’t drink before games?” Eddie asks, and Steve tries not to melt at the details the other remembers.
“I’m not taking the ice tomorrow, and I… usually just have a cut-off time. When we first met, I was worried I would say something stupid if I started drinking and end up scaring you off.” It’s more honest than he intends to be, more information than he means to share, but he doesn’t regret telling Eddie, and he isn’t embarrassed.
“I think we both know it takes more than that to scare me off, sweetheart.”
Steve’s pretty sure he stops breathing at the term of endearment and he can’t tell if Eddie is freaking out or proud of himself, because he doesn’t say anything for a moment before he gives a quick goodbye and hangs up, leaving Steve standing on Broadway, looking up at the “Tootsies Orchid Lounge” sign, trying to keep himself from spiraling.
Some time must pass, then, before Robin comes out to check on him, gently lays a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. “Dude, you okay?”
“He, uh. He called me sweetheart.” 
“Good grief,” Robin mumbles, resting her head on Steve’s shoulder. “I thought he broke up with you or something.”
“Kinda hard to break up with someone you aren’t dating, Robbie.” Steve shakes his head in an effort to pull himself together.
“Whatever you say,” she tugs his arm, then, leading him back into the bar where they finish their drink and head back to the hotel. 
~~~
Open mouth, insert foot. The Eddie Special. The one thing becoming a constant during his conversations with Steve.
“What did you call him?” Jeff asks around a smile after Eddie hangs up the phone, grabs the nearest throw pillow, and shoves his face into it.
“I’m pretty sure he said sweetheart.” Gareth provides in the least helpful moment he’s ever been to Eddie, confirming he had, indeed, used a fucking pet name while speaking with Steve.
“How did he take that?” Jeff is softer, no longer following the initial taunting route he seemed to be heading down, likely sensing Eddie’s unraveling.
“I don’t know, I think I blacked out.” He speaks into the pillow, muffled, before he drops it into his lap and stares blankly at the wall.
“Well, me and Jeff’ll be there tomorrow. We can try to prevent any catastrophes within our capabilities?” Gareth smacks Jeff’s leg, who nods in agreement, and Eddie sighs and throws himself back into the studio sofa.
The next day, they get to Bridgestone Arena early enough to grab snacks and not run into too many people who recognize them before filling into their suite. Eddie settles into his seat, comfortable with the temperature now that he knows how to dress for a game. 
The teams eventually make their way to the ice, and Eddie zeroes in on Steve until he skates into the Blackhawk’s box after the anthem.
This time around, Eddie manages to follow a good deal of what’s happening. He’s learned a lot about the game since his first attendance, and he finds it easier to track the puck now than it had seemed previously. He watches as the Preds make an early goal, how the Blackhawks are quick to respond by securing their own point. Watches as a play goes sideways, and a Blackhawk player ends up flipping over another player, then lays on the ice in just the right position to know something is wrong, that he’s hurt.
Play doesn’t stop for long, and when things pick back up, Steve takes the ice. Eddie snaps his fingers between Jeff and Gareth once before he’s on his feet, cheering. The boys join him, and soon, most of the Arena is giving Steve a standing ovation. Steve, though, is facing the direction of Eddie’s suite and gives a little salute before dropping into position, ready for the puck to hit the ice. 
~~~
When the backup forward goes down, Steve springs to his feet from inside the visitors box. An attempt at goal had drawn everyone near the Blackhawk’s net. A Predator had dove for the puck, and things went south fast. Watching from the sidelines was like watching in slow motion, as the med staff checked in on everyone involved and eventually carted the forward off the ice to be evaluated.
Behind him, the coaches evaluate their options as Steve checks his laces and lifts his helmet before tapping the coach's arm.
“I got this,” he promises, settling the helmet over his head and securing the cage over his face. With just a moment of hesitation, the coaches agree and Steve skates to center ice.
He bends down, waiting for the Predator’s forward to join him in their wait for the ref with the puck, but cheers erupt from one end of the arena and slowly, the noise wraps around the room. 
Steve straightens to look around, taking in who exactly was cheering. Fans in both Blackhawks gear and Predators are standing together, cheering and clapping. He glances around, confused before he notices a few of the players on both sides of the ice are also clapping toward him. That’s when it clicks, that all the noise is for him. 
He turns to where the cheering originated, zeroes in on the curly hair over a jersey with his number on the sleeves and he can’t help but grin. Steve gives a little gesture in Eddie’s direction, before skating back to the center ice with the Predator’s forward.
“Welcome back, Harrington.” The other forward says, just as the ref drops the puck and the game picked back up.
~~~
The Blackhawks don’t win the game, but it feels like the cement is drying around the memory in his mind as he showers after the game. He’d played well, even scored a goal, but the Predators manage to get a buzzer-beater in at the last minute after tying things up near the end of the third. But the cheering when he stepped back out onto the ice was an experience he’d never forget.
Eddie texts Steve the address to a brewery in East Nashville, and that’s where he and Robin head as everyone else makes their way into the city. 
Upon arrival, Robin b-lines across the parking lot for the door, but Steve spots a thin trail of smoke that catches his attention. He follows it, smiles when it turns out to be exactly who he expected. Eddie’s propped up against the side of the building, foot resting flat as his back against the wall behind him, smoking a cigarette.
“Kinda figured I’d find you at the end of the smoke trail.” Steve teased softly, catching Eddie’s attention. 
“Looks like I’ve been caught, then,” Eddie laughs, and takes a long, final drag from the cigarette before putting it out into the ash urn. He blows the smoke away from Steve, and keeps a smile on his face. “Wanna grab a drink? I had the guys order appetizers, but we can get real food, too, if you want?”
“I actually….” Steve hesitates, and Eddie raises his eyebrows. Steve considers dropping it, just agreeing to go inside and eat and have a good time with everyone. But then Eddie’s face softens into a little smile and Steve’s chest warms. “Fuck it. Do you want to grab dinner tomorrow? Just the two of us?”
Eddie visibly blue screens. There’s no emotion on his face as he watches Steve before him for a moment, then breaks out into a grin. “You asking me on a date, Harrington?”
“I am.” Steve nods, grins back at Eddie, watches as he twists a curl around his finger and pulls it in front of his face, twisting his body so his arm is propped against the wall, facing Steve head on.
“I think I would like that, yeah.” Eddie agrees. Steve smiles, feels like something has lifted between the two of them, and holds his hand out. Eddie tangles their fingers together and lets Steve pull him into the brewery.
Robin seems suspicious as they enter, but drops her interest as they sit at the end of the table across from one another, sipping on beers and munching on nachos and mozzarella sticks, chatting about the game and the new music the band is recording. 
And if Steve manages to keep his composure when Eddie hooks an ankle around his own under the table, it’s because he’s an adult and not a high schooler tripping over his own feet to impress the guy across from him, and totally not because he knows the entire rest of the table would have a field day if he got flustered by the littlest touch.
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commander-goo · 8 months
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ganonfan1995 · 2 years
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Burnt out
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d1sc01nf3rn0 · 6 months
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I got bored a couple of days ago at work, and I did Laios party in Baldurs Gate 3 lmao
No mods, default creator
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hyewka · 1 year
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his face is so kissable like just peppering his face with kisses because hes the cutest thing ever
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I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI. I HATE AI.
#not dislike. its hate#it made me cry several times today#thinking of how my classmates manipulate our teachers#and chatgpt AIs can EVERYTHING#its so painful to think of it#today I broke down in the bus and cried#idc what people think. hiding my feelings any longer would destroy me from the inside#maybe youve also seen how people use freakin AIs in their exams#the thing is that:#we wrote an exam for which Ive studies for like 2 whole days#this week we finally got the exams back (w the grades ofc)#and ok Ive got a 3 (C in America syste#*m)#my friends who used chatgpt throughout the exam got way better grades (I didnt expect it otherwise)#PLUS#the most provocating messages from the teacher:#“10/10 POINTS :)” “YOURE ROCKING THIS” “YEAH”#💔#seriously#this breaks my heart#dont the teacher see something suspect in the exam?!#why cant they open their eyes and get modernized to reality.#& they KNOW- the students Im talking of. they usally have bad results.#once our teacher came to a chatgpt student and said the most miserable thing:#“youve been using duolingo a lot lately hm? thats where your nice grades come from 😉🥰”#you get it?#no- this peoson didnt learn.#no- this person isnt even interested in the stuff we learn in lessons#AWFUL feeling to hear the praisings of da teachers when *I* gotta sit among the gpt-students and look like Im a worse student than *them*#[writing this at almost 1 at night] still have some tears. this topic really has the power to destroy someones day. 💔💔
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badbookkeeping · 2 months
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i love you my stand in, i love you joe, i love you ming, i love you poom, i love you up, i love you director pepsi, i love you shui qian cheng, and also everyone else involved in the making of this show
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vixvaporub · 5 months
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Sometimes you gotta have some coffee before you reply to someone's message
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realpokemon · 2 years
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hey what was your pokemon again? i know it evolves into swalot, but the species of bart is escaping me right now for some reason, would you be able to help me out?
no. nuh uh. you are NOT bringing bart into this
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soft-pwincess · 3 months
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hey chat??? why this guy straight up yankin his hog in team comms??? jorking his peanits. pullin the laffy taffy. beatin his schmeat. givin himself a one handed applause.
why is this guy moaning in my ear when he’s 3/12 he is not doing good enough for that to be hot 💀 yUCK DUDE
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allsketchesnononsense · 5 months
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Some sanding and the most miserably painting experience later and its Finished
She's Escaping
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ourdadai · 11 months
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☆ rei ( ive ) lockscreens !
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freaky-flawless · 6 months
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Oh, it is cruel to release highly sought-after dolls the day after a holiday.
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