#except for the the encyclopedia cards

[dravidious]

You're more amazing than 7 planeswalkers

Speaking of asserting my superiority over rares, MTGA screenshot dump!

This is the one where I made a Calix player ragequit against my silly little signpost uncommon commander

This is the one where literally every card the opponent played was a rare and I beat the shit out them with commons and uncommons (2 rares in my hand but i didn't even need to play them)

This was actually one where the rares served me, but it's cool because it was a SUPER close game (draft game btw)

And this is the one where I managed to mill out an absolutely MASSIVE 100+ card deck with the power of bureaucracy. You should've seen it it was amazing

[portraitsofsaints]

Saint Isidore of Seville Doctor of the Church 560-636 Feast day: April 4 Patronage: the internet, computer users, technicians and students

Saint Isidore was born in Spain during complex political times, transitioning from the effects of the barbarous Visigoths to a Catholic culture. He received an exceptional classical education, writing the encyclopedia of knowledge, the Etymological, among others. Ordained Bishop in 599, he struggled between the life of solitude to meditate on the Word of God and the demands of ecclesiastical duties. He organized synods to discuss representational government that became the model for European nations.  St. Isidore promoted education by encouraging seminaries and schools built in every diocese. His last dying act was to give away all his possessions.

Prints, plaques & holy cards available for purchase here: (website)

[christinesficrecs]

Hey do you know any fics that explore the hale family and their dynamics as a pack? Of course sterek but I’d love some world building…

There is this tag and also this one. Also, The Searching Ceremonies by KouriArashi

Divided We Stand by KouriArashi | 156.7K | Mature

Derek is being pressured by his family to pick a mate, and somehow stumbles into a choice that they didn't expect and aren't sure they approve of....

Weave Soft Spells Over My Sight by AgnesBlue | 51.4K | Mature

Derek had blossomed steadily over the past year, growing into his ears and turning even more handsome, if that were possible. But instead of going out and melting the panties off the girls, suddenly he was coming to Stiles all bashed in, demanding that he patch him up like Stiles was some freelance nurse. It was a familiar pattern by now.

Bonds of Blood, Bonds of Family, Bonds of Love by TyReed | 44K | Mature

After being beaten up by a door, werewolf Stiles Stilinksi finds himself bonded to Derek Hale, of the Hale Noble Bloodline. For a scrawny, wimpy, Tainted Bloodline werewolf, Stiles runs away, embarrassed and humiliated as he worries about bringing shame to the Hale Family, and even more shame to himself. Because the Nobles and Tainted just don't mix, never have, never will.

Except, things aren't exactly what they seem.

With the help of the (meddling) Hale family, his adoptive (meddling) human parents John and Claudia Stilinksi, and one very persistent Alpha Derek Hale, Stiles might come to see himself as more than just the blood that runs through his veins, and open his heart to find the happiness, friends, pack, and the family that he'd always wanted.

Hale’s Modern Encyclopedia of Playing Cards (and Dating Humans) by thepsychicclam | 49.6K | Mature

Wolves don't date humans. And Derek's okay with that. He's got his Pack, his friends in the Pack network, and lacrosse. Plus, he plays cards with his grandma all the time. Stiles Stilinski definitely doesn't factor into his life - no matter how much of a crush Derek has on him.

But when bird creatures attack Derek, Stiles, and their friends in the Preserve, Stiles finds out about werewolves and things get pretty complicated. For Derek at least. And he thought school was his only problem, but now he's grounded and Stiles is hanging around way too much for Derek to ignore him any longer.

Now as Ever (All That Is and Has Been) by venis_envy | 52.2K | Explicit

Stiles can't remember what happened to rearrange the time-space continuum, or how he ended up being pulled into the past. All he knows is that he's there now, in 2003 Beacon Hills, with a teenage werewolf and a possibly-crazy veterinarian as his only allies.

Ain't Nothing so Good as the Cake and Eating it by sofonisba_found | 51K | Mature

Derek thinks he's doing alright in life, with his family at his side and a job he loves. Despite his family's concerns he remains adamant that he doesn't need a mate, afraid to take the risk of letting anyone close enough to try to hurt his family again. That is until he realizes that his true mate has been right under his nose for years, and that now through his inaction he may lose him.

Gravity's Got Nothing on You by zosofi | 83.9 | Explicit

Three weeks,” Derek says.

“Still don’t want to,” Stiles says.

“I’ll pay you,” Derek says, and that… that has Stiles interested. Alf’s Antique’s may be a great job, but it’s not a high-paying job, and half of Stiles’s tuition is coming from financial aid, so…

“How much,” Stiles asks, “are we talking here? Because I know your family, dude. And it’ll be kind of awkward after.“

“My family thinks you’re some sort of fucking gift to the world,” Derek seethes, like he’s jealous, “they’ll probably be pissed at me when we break it off, so don’t worry about that. Five hundred bucks.”

“A thousand,” Stiles says, because screw ethics. Also, the Hale family is loaded. Derek can deal.

Safe Place to Land by Green | 19.2K

The Hales have been tracking a group of hunters who've targeted small packs with the help of a magic user. When they finally attack the hunter compound, they aren't expecting to find Stiles, a Spark who's practically a slave, and his young werewolf son. Derek isn't expecting the Spark to be his mate, either.

Northern Blues by kaistrex (weishen) | 40.6K | Explicit

When the Hale pack transitions to a new Alpha, Stiles is thrilled to be assigned to Beacon Hills to try out as their new Emissary. He and his dad are immediately enamoured with the idyllic little town, fitting right in with the rest of the Hales – except for Derek. The new Alpha shows no signs of welcome, but it will be hard for him to stay stubborn in the face of his family’s encouragement and a sentient house that has plans for the two of them whether Derek likes it or not.

Of Course It's Fairies by HelloWhyTheFuckAmIHere | 100.2K

While still suffering from the after effects of the Nogitsune, Stiles and the pack stumble upon and save a trapped fairy. The boy's parents, not wanting to be in the pack’s debt, offer each member of the pack who assisted in the rescue, the opportunity to bring a loved one back from the dead.

Having been blissfully reunited with several of their once-lost friends and family members, everyone must work together to figure out how to function as a new pack, and how to defeat a new incoming threat.

[foone]

ok please tell us about the tandy-memorex vis :D

OKAY the Tandy Memorex Video Information System is a hilarious console that Tandy/Radio Shack came up with in 1992.

It's called the Tandy-Memorex VIS partially to distance itself from Tandy, but Memorex was owned by Tandy at the time, and this is entirely their fault. Back in 1992, the CD-ROM was the NEW HOT THING and everyone wanted to get in on that. Arguably every console that tried failed to some degree or another, until the Sony Playstation in 1994. But the VIS failed spectacularly hard, selling something like 11,000 units, and Radio Shack was nearly giving them away towards the short lifespan of the console (1992-1994).

It got about 20 games, and another 24 releases that could charitably be called "multimedia products". Things like encyclopedias, photo albums on assorted issues, and spoken-illustrated-book things with minimal animation. Of those 20 games, many of them were edutainment games, things like word puzzles, math games, drawing tools along the lines of kid-pix (on a console with no way to save pictures or print them out, so... yeah).

On top of this, it cost 699$. IN NINETEEN NINETY FUCKING TWO. Plug that into an inflation calculator and it comes out at about one and a half thousand dollars, for a console with barely any games and the ones that it did come with are designed for the little kiddies. This thing never had a market.

But here's the thing that makes it so memorable to me: While the games available for it were not interesting, and it's just another example of a failed CD-ROM console alongside the endless failed or barely-survived ones that littered the early-90s... (Every played a CD-i, 3DO, NeoGeo CD, PC-FX, FX Towns Marty, LaserActive, Commodore CD-TV or Amiga CD32? How about one of the add-ons, the Sega CD, TurboGrafx-CD, or Atari Jaguar CD? Hell, this is what the Nintendo Playstation was supposed to be, before that deal went sideways and it became two separate consoles)

The thing is that technologically the VIS is super unique because it's an idea that wouldn't really be repeated until 2001, nearly a decade later: The VIS is a console that's a computer.

Yeah, I know, all consoles are computers (except maybe arguably some early pong units), but I mean like a desktop PC. The Tandy-Memorex VIS is an IBM PC clone running Windows!

(EDIT: Accidentally submitted too early)

It's a modular windows, a sort of embedded-windows that only runs off a ROM chip, but it's still an Intel 286 with a relatively normal VGA card, a megabyte of RAM, and a 1X CD-ROM drive. This thing could basically play a ton of DOS games, it would just be a matter of some basic porting.

And it just never happened. Instead all the games are custom-designed edutainment/multimedia things, and no one ported Duke Nukem or Commander Keen or Kings Quest to it (Actually Sierra did make a test port of Kings Quest 5, but it never came out. Reportedly it was slow as hell)

It could have been a very interesting console that let us play tons of DOS games in the living room in 1992, but Tandy mismanaged it with the ridiculous price and bad policy regarding games releases which meant it never really amounted to anything.

Anyway I've got one in my room right now, and I'm planning on building a CD-ROM emulator for it so I can easily play around with making homebrew with it. I want to port a bunch of DOS games to it and make it reach its potential, like Tandy should have done in 1992.

They already had a successful line of PC compatibles in the Tandy 1000, and the VIS is partially made of advancements they developed for that weird line of computers. If they had leaned into that angle, sold it at a better price, they could have really built something special. So many advanced DOS games (and even more advanced ones made possible by the CD-ROM format) that would blow away anything else in the console market in 1992 could have been VIS releases. Instead we got some (barely-)FMV games and a bunch of sub-par Math Blaster and Reader Rabbit clones on a console that no one wanted to buy because it was too damn expensive.

[acertainmoshke]

Happy STS! What are your go-to/preferred writing tools? Favorite pen types, notebooks, keyboards, etc, but it doesn't have to be limited to just those things. Writing programs, favorite reference books, thesauruses, dictionaries, TTS software, whiteboards, corkboards, flash cards, encyclopedias, anything goes!

Nooooooooooo Nopal you don't know what you've done! How could you know I have an actual special interest in this??

So I am obsessed with notebooks but also REALLY picky about them. My handwriting is teeny so I don't like big lines, and I think it looks neater and prettier with smaller lines anyway. The covers can have a cool pattern or be plain if it's a nice color and high-quality enough. I do occasionally make exceptions; my current journal is fairly cheap with large lines, but it's a rare older Batman one in my favorite color with bat-tech designs on all the pages and a light-up bat signal on the color, so it was worth it. My newly discovered favorite notebook aspect is ones that are designed so the pages lay flat and it's easier to write. Oh, and I LOATHE spiral notebooks. The big school-style ones are ok for random notes or anything unimportant, but the smaller little ones that are normal book size are absolutely worthless. The spirals always come undone before I'm done with them.

I'm also picky about writing utensils. I keep a journal strictly in pen so it can't fade and I can't get embarrassed and erase it. I write stories strictly in pencil because I WILL need to erase and try out lines. But, although I'm using one currently for my big-lined Batman journal, in general I can't stand large ballpoints. By which I mean 0.7, which is pretty standard. 0.5 is ok, but I much prefer the rarer smaller pens. I used to have a Japanese friend who I would get to send me 0.35 pens because they are normal there but expensive over here. In pencils anything under 0.5 is impractical, but I like the fancy mechanical pencils with a nice grip and a dent that lets you dig out the eraser even after it's erased down. My current one is teal.

None of that answered your question but it was necessary anyway. And this is getting too long so the actual answer is going under a cut.

We'll see how long I can keep it going, but I like to write my stories on paper. Of course, it's not worth starting a nice new notebook if I'm unlikely to finish it and it's impractical if I don't have a clear idea of the basic story, because jumping around out of order is impossible. I like it though because it forces me to slow down and think about each scene; I can't rush the way I do when typing. It also gives me a built-in edit when I copy it up, so by the time I'm editing a full draft it's already technically a second draft. And it's convenient because I can take it to work and write on my breaks, or if I'm waiting in line at the post office, or anywhere I happen to find myself.

I do still write on the computer, of course, for fanfiction or just-for-fun things I'll never finish or stories I'm still figuring out. When I do truly long-form things I like to use work because I hate the way Google docs looks (controversial, I know). But for short things, or worldbuilding, or fanfic, I like to use Notion. I like that I can nest pages within each other endlessly. It makes my autistic organizing brain buzz.

I recently discovered that I enjoy using actual notecards pinned to a corkboard for initial plot planning. I can't always do this, and I make outlines too for more detail, but being able to physically move stuff around in real space helps my brain focus on what is actually important to include.

Thank you sooooo much for giving me a chance to ramble about this!!

[pinkmoondoll9shihtzu]

someone from my past i always think about....my first real internet friend. we became friends thru neopets in 2006 when we were both 13.her name was hikikormori but everyone called her hiki or hikoki and she was kinda famous on the neoboards. we both used deviantart a lot too. her fursona was a green dog. we added eachother on msn n would talk every day. at that point she was the only person from the internet i talked to. i didnt even kno her real name or anythin about her life except that she lived in hawaii. she taught me about 4chan and encyclopedia dramatica xD one of the last things i ever posted on deviantart was this birthday card i made for her:

the way this is a naapoleon dynamite reference lol....i rly love her response in the comments too cus this is like. exclusively how we talked to eachother. 2008 all caps scene girl enthusiasm ftw

like yea i duno i stopped using devinatart and adjacent websites around 2009 cus i was ~15~ and ~too indie~to care~ so we lost touch. i always wonder about her!!!! whats her life like now. does she still Post ? her deviantart page is blank...thank god some of our interactions have been immortalized in my archive. ilu hikoki imiss uu i wish u tha best...

[octoberobserver]

Wouldn't it be nice (if the best if yet to come)

Contrary to popular belief, Richard Wentworth Tozier was not an idiot.

In fact, he was pretty fucking smart. Always had been. The slew of only As and Bs throughout his entire academic career helped prove that. He just preferred to play the fool. Everyone always underestimated the fool, which worked in Richie’s favour when he wanted to get away with shit. Which was all the time.

So no, generally speaking, Richie was no village idiot, fool or clown.

(Definitely not a fucking clown.)

He was just hopelessly, desperately in love.

And that made him dumb. Sometimes.

Case in point, at 41 years of age, climbing into bed and demanding Eddie Kaspbrak do the same before singing him to sleep like he was some distressed, teething toddler in need of a lullaby. Only to then awake the next morning to be confronted by the devastating sight of a sleeping Eds, all rumpled and adorable, barely four inches from his face.

Now there was an image he would never get out of his head.

Fuck.

God, he had slept, though. Eddie’s soft and pleasant singing had made him feel comfortably warm all over, easing the tension that had plagued his entire body. The words of Frank Sinatra sang by his best friend had lulled him into one of the most peaceful sleeps he had had in a long, long time. Which was more than what he could say about the previous six nights where he had caught maybe an hour of restless, fitful sleep before being jerked violently awake, eyes stinging and throat raw, to waste the far too long day gormlessly.

Who knew you just needed Eds beside you to sleep nightmare-free?

Richie did. Richie knew. He knew that all he needed for most things was Eddie by his side.

And that was the problem.

“...chie. Richie!”

Richie’s eyes snapped up, breaking from his reverie to be met with a quizzical Eddie Kaspbrak, waving a spatula in front of his face.

“Uh, what?”

A cute little line formed between Eddie’s eyebrows as he presumably repeated, “I said do you want fried or scrambled?”

“Oh, uh. Dealer’s choice, dude.”

Eddie tilted his head at him, clearly noticing something was up but thankfully, for once didn’t comment on it. He turned back to the stove and began heating the oil in the frying pan, humming a little as he cracked eggs into a bowl. Richie relaxed, shoulders deflating as he watched Eddie work, listening to his talented humming as he moved about the kitchen with the ease of someone who knew it inside and out. Which he did, to be fair. He had lived with Richie for over five months now and had really made the place his own.

Their own.

Richie found himself glancing around the apartment and catching little hints here and there of their shared life. His old comic book collection propped up against Eddie’s Encyclopedia Britannica. Eddie’s Lou Gehrig baseball card that he inherited from his dad right next to the framed ticket stub of Richie’s very first standup gig.

And that was just the living room.

The kitchen was almost entirely Eddie. He had made it his mission to replace almost every utensil Richie had, and adding a lot more, deeming the very sparse selection “something from a frat-boy’s frat-house” to which Richie pointed out the redundancy of repeating “frat”, but conceded that he probably had a point. And so, off they went to Home Depot. He still had nightmares of being stuck in a never-ending aisle of colliders and floating ladles to this day.

“The best is yet to come…”

Richie’s stomach lurched as he watched Eddie scramble the eggs, his dulcet tone causing a shiver to flow up his spine.

"And babe won't it be fine…"

Richie’s eyes traced the line of Eddie’s relaxed shoulders under his oversized sleep-shirt, adorably rumbled from his stint in Richie’s bed. His heart did somersaults at that revelation. He couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky that he got to see this, see Eddie like this, first thing in the morning. Comfortable and confident, singing quietly to himself, well aware that he had an audience of one. You’ve always been the exception, Rich, he had said a while back, turning Richie’s world on its axis as usual. Now, the few times Eddie sang in his presence, he just about managed to restrain himself from propping his chin in his hand and heaving a giant, contented sigh.

“Best is yet to come, come the day you're mine…”

Warmth pooled in Richie’s stomach as he fought a smile. God, this was the best kinda torture.

Bzzzz. Bzzzzzzzz. Bzzzzzzzzzzzz.

Richie jumped at the abrupt vibration of his cell phone, dancing its way across the kitchen counter, DEVIL INCARNATE lighting up its screen. Eddie's singing stopped.

“You uh, you gonna get that?”

Their eyes met.

“Nope.”

“Richie. You can’t avoid your agent forever.”

“Watch me.”

They stared at one another.

Bzzzzzz. Bzzzzzzzzzz. Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

With a roll of his eyes, Eddie wiped his hands on the dishcloth on his shoulder, like he was Sam from Cheers only a foot shorter, snatching up the phone and holding it to his ear before Richie could barely blink.

“Richie Tozier’s phone, Eddie Kaspbrak speaking.”

Richie watched closely as Eddie nodded, expression darkening as he listened to whatever Steve was spouting.

“Uh huh. Right. Well, I don’t think he—oh. Oh...kay. I’m not sure—right.”

Richie could feel a slow smirk crossing over his face. Watching Steve lay into someone else that wasn’t him for a change was kinda nice.

“Well, he probably—okay, I’ll tell him. Yeah. Bye.”

Eddie slowly lowered the phone back down to the counter, blinking slowly.

“Ya just got Steve’d, Eds.”

“I did not!”

“Yep, you did,” Richie grinned his best cheshire grin, folding his hands behind his head and leaning back in the stool, “So, what did Satan just order you to order me?”

Eddie scowled, jaw clenching as his eyes lowered.

“He booked you lunch at that tacky café you love—”

“Frying Nemo’s?” Richie laughed, rubbing his hands together. “Alright! I thought this was gonna be a bad—”

“To meet Bobby.”

Richie felt the blood drain from his face.

“Bobby…?” he croaked, hoping it was some other Bobby and not—

“Your ex. Yeah.”

Eddie looked like someone had shoved a shit sandwich under his nose. Richie had told him all about the whirlwind that was Bobby Valens, one night last June after one too many homemade margaritas and too few blunts. It was in between his fourth and fifth slice of Vegetarian’s Nightmare pizza that he started to spill his guts about the one and only time he had ever said the L word out loud to someone.

(And he didn’t mean Lesbian.)

What Richie had conveniently forgotten to mention during his ill-advised over-share was that he hadn’t actually meant what he said. At least, he had realised later, after reconnecting with his childhood friends and remembered what Love with a capital L actually felt like, that he hadn’t really been In Love™ with Bobby after all. He had just thought he was.

Because back then, he hadn’t remembered Eddie Kaspbrak.

“I should have fought him on it, or given you the phone,” the man in question broke through Richie’s thoughts, forehead wrinkling in worry, “shit, sorry Rich—I—I know your history with Bobby. Are you...gonna be okay meeting with him? Should I try and call Steve back and—”

“Nah Eds, I’ll be fine,” Richie cut across what was sure to be a Kaspbrakian rant of epic proportions, “I can’t avoid Bobby forever. He is one of the best in the biz. And we’re professionals.”

Eddie stared at him.

“Okay, he’s a professional,” Richie amended with a shrug, “and I’m...over it. Over him.”

Eddie didn’t look convinced.

But it was the truth. If only half the truth. Because yeah, Richie was over Bobby, but if he was being 100% honest with himself, he was never really that under him to begin with. Even when he did have Derry amnesia. Couple that with the fact that in recent years Richie was again, not-so-gently reminded of what genuinely being ass-over-tea-kettle-in-love with someone actually felt like? Yeah, he could safely say that he was definitely over whatever miniscule something he had kinda felt, once upon a time, for Bobby Valens.

But he couldn’t exactly tell Eddie that.

Hence the look of disbelief marring his friend’s adorably grumpy face.

“Eds, I’m good. Really,” he smiled as a plate of (what he knew were perfectly-seasoned) scrambled eggs and toast was put in front of him.

Eddie hummed quietly, eyes lowered as he turned off the stove and plated his own food, facing away from Richie.

“Have you...have you guys talked since…?”

“Since Bobby told me he had a fling with his valet and I had the very mature response of throwing a drink in his face and trying to escape out his bathroom window?" Richie finished with a grimace. "No. No we have not."

Getting stuck halfway out a fifth floor window only to then get pulled free by the man he was trying to escape from hadn't exactly been his proudest moment. Eddie nodded, his back still turned as he buttered some toast with more focus than it probably warranted.

"And you're sure you don't...still have uh, feelings for him?"

Richie pushed around the eggs on his plate, his stomach clenching.

Don’t look at him. Don’t look at him. Don’t look at—

"Yeah...I'm sure."

He felt rather than saw Eddie turn around and sit down next to him at the kitchen island. After a few minutes of the only sounds being their forks clattering against plates, Eddie finally piped up, face clouded with something that Richie couldn’t name.

"You should wear the navy shirt Bev made you. Show that asshole what he's missing."

Richie smiled into his coffee.

~*~

Don't freak out.

Do.

Not.

Freak.

Out.

It's just lunch.

Lunch with the only man he's ever loved.

No big deal.

Stop freaking out!

Eddie stared at his rapidly reddening face in the bathroom mirror. It had been over four hours since he had answered Richie’s phone to his demonic agent and his blood pressure had been skyrocketing through the roof ever since.

Stupid Bobby Valens and his dumb marketing talents.

God, now he’s making me rhyme.

In Eddie’s opinion, Richie didn’t need all the pomp and circumstance that went with marketing managers to sell his new Netflix show, but clearly Satan himself disagreed if their one-sided conversation was anything to go by.

“It’s just lunch, a business lunch, it’s not like it’s a date,” he muttered to himself as he scrubbed his hands raw with that new eucalyptus soap that he had bought at the farmer’s market with Richie last Sunday.

“LA is slowly turning you into a hipster, Mr Nu Yawk,” Richie had snorted in a truly terrible New York accent as he chowed down on his cinnamon churros, getting sugary residue all over his stubble in a way that should have exasperated Eddie, but instead had his stomach clenching as he fought the urge to lean up on his tiptoes and lick it off.

He had forced himself to just roll his eyes, despite every atom in his body screaming at him, forking over far too many bills for the far too small a soap and kept walking. Richie trailed behind much like a hyperactive kid forced into clothes shopping with his mother, stopping seemingly at each individual stall and eyeing everything from essential oils to pillows embroidered with Eat, Pray, Love, just to rile Eddie up.

They looked like a couple.

It was a thought that had floated into Eddie’s mind like a less ominous balloon on more than one occasion. But there was just something about the farmer’s market on a Sunday morning that seemed to solidify the image even further in his mind’s eye. Something so…domestic about it. Shopping for their home together.

Their home.

Their home where Richie was currently changing into the shirt that made Eddie’s breath hitch so he could go on a lunch date with his ex-not-quite-boyfriend-but-had-still-professed-his-love-to-guy.

He could practically feel his pulse speeding up, his blood pumping erratically around his body. And to think, less than five hours ago, his heart rate had been racing for a whole other reason - waking up in Richie Tozier’s bed.

Warmth pooled in his gut as he cast his mind back to the sight that he had awoken to - the crinkled, definitely drooling face of his best friend, smushed deep into his pillow, snoring a lot softer than Eddie remembered him doing when he was a kid.

Eddie hadn’t intended on falling asleep, of course. He had every intention of singing a few Sinatra songs and booking it the fuck outta there, but he had had a long day, a tiring day and his eyes had gotten heavy.

Sometime during the night, they had migrated closer together, not quite touching, but almost.

As Eddie had stared across that strip of empty space separating them, an ache, from deep down in his being, the same one that had festered within him since childhood, reared its ugly head.

His hand had spasmed as he fought the urge to reach out and hook one of Richie’s wayward curls behind his ear.

“Knock, knock, Eds, ya fall in or somethin’?”

Eddie jumped, spat from his reverie, as Richie’s loud voice wafted in from behind the door. He took a shaky breath, lifting his head to meet his own eye in the mirror. His face was several shades darker than the overpriced, organic tomatoes currently sitting in their vegetable crisper. (Another purchase from Sunday’s trip that Richie teased him endlessly for.)

“Get a grip, Kaspbrak,” he hissed at himself before drying his hands and flinging open the bathroom door.

“How many times do I have to tell you, don’t say ‘knock, knock’, just—”

The rest of his sentence died in his throat as his eyes landed on Richie.

Damn that navy shirt and it’s classy casual sexiness.

Richie looked...hot.

So goddamn hot in his well-fitted navy shirt with flamingo patterns around the collar and dark jeans that Eddie ached to reach out and smooth his hands down his chest to feel the thrum of his heartbeat under the soft material.

(And if he lingered a little around his hips, and maybe a little lower, then that was his business.)

“You uh...you look…” he waved a hand to give it something to do that didn’t involve fondling his friend, clearing his throat, his cheeks burning, “you look good, Rich.”

A flush of crimson passed over Richie’s face as he surveyed himself, clearly not convinced.

“Eh, I mean, the shirt’s nice, but—”

“Robby won’t know what hit him,” Eddie cut across what is sure to be a self-deprecating joke.

“Bobby.”

Eddie knew that. Of course he did. But honestly, fuck that guy. He didn’t deserve anyone remembering his name. Who the fuck cheats on Richie fucking Tozier? What type of Grade A asshole has a guy like that and decides his valet is the better option? What kind of fucking idiot spends more than a second in Richie Tozier's company and doesn’t fall head over heels in love with him?

Definitely not Edward Francis Kaspbrak, anyway.

That ship well and truly sailed back in the mid-’80s.

He had just forgotten for a while.

But now, after reconnecting, dying, resurrecting, moving across the country and living together for over five months, all those old feelings that he had once upon a time dismissed as just childhood nonsense, were anything but. They were back (remembered and re-discovered) and stronger than ever.

And Eddie was so, so, fucked.

“Right. Bobby,” he faux-corrected himself, uncomfortably rubbing the back of his neck as he reluctantly tore his eyes away from the very well-dressed, very distracting, love of his life.

He could feel Richie’s eyes on him as he shuffled towards the side table where they kept the car keys by the front door.

“If we leave now, the traffic shouldn’t—”

“Wait, you’re driving me?”

Eddie paused, hand hovering over his keys, eyes finding the familiar, slightly widened ones framed by glasses.

“Uh…”

He shouldn’t have been so thrown by that question, but he was. It was just, for the last while, Eddie had done most of the driving. It was rare that either one of them ran an errand alone, so apart from the very seldom occasion that Richie deemed it necessary that his ridiculously flashy, mid-life-crisis-on-wheels ‘gets some air,’ they nearly always travelled together in Eddie’s very sensible, if a little eco-unfriendly, SUV.

Even though Richie maintained Eddie drove either “like he was being chased by a chainsaw-wielding madman or his infirm grandma on the way to church, there is no inbetween with you, Eds.”

So really, Eddie hadn’t given a second thought to how weird it would be if he drove Richie to a definitely-not-date-business-meeting with his ex. Heat flooded his cheeks as he took a step away from the front door.

“Uh right, sorry, you don’t need me to—”

“No, no,” Richie took a giant stride forward so they were barely a foot apart, “far be it from me to separate you for your lady love, Mrs Gas Guzzler outside.”

Eddie searched his friend’s face, recognising the nerves hidden behind the patented bravado.

Some things never change.

Richie swiped a hand over his forehead, adding quietly, “I’d uh...I’d appreciate the ride, man.”

Like a trick of the light, Eddie suddenly saw his friend at 41 and 14 all at once. Same shy smile, same bright eyes, superimposed on one another like pictures taken thirty years apart. A familiar warmth that he had felt at 14, flowed through Eddie’s veins like a balm. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, so he merely nodded and grabbed his keys.

Something told him this drive wasn’t going to be anything like Sunday morning trips to buy overpriced soap.

~*~

The journey was...quiet. Something being in a car with Edward Kaspbrak at the wheel almost never was. Richie fought the urge to drum his fingers against the passenger-side door, knowing how much Eddie hated that. Usually, that would be the exact reason he’d do it, but there was just something...tenuous today that he didn’t want to test by poking that particular pressure point.

All too soon (LA traffic was clearly conspiring against him by being reasonable for once), they pulled up outside the Frying Nemo café and it hit Richie that he was actually doing this. He was actually going to sit down with Bobby Valens, a man who, the last time he had seen him, critiqued his blowjob skills and topped off the evening by reiterating that he couldn’t be ‘exclusive’ with a closet-case when it meant he couldn’t fuck his valet whenever he pleased.

Cool. Cool, cool, cool.

“You gonna be okay?”

He could feel Eddie’s gaze burning a hole into the side of his face as he unbuckled his seatbelt.

“Yeah, Eds. I’m a big boy, I’ll be fine.”

He wished he felt as sure as he sounded. He really did.

Come on, man. You’ve faced a demonic space clown twice and killed your maniac childhood bully with an axe. You can have one business lunch with your ex-associate-with-benefits.

“Okay, well, uh...just call me if you need a ride home.”

Richie frowned, turning to look at Eddie who seemed to be doggedly staring out the windshield at two pedestrians yelling at each other.

“Why wouldn’t I need a ride home? I know you've been trying to get me to exercise, Spaghetti, but I’m definitely not gonna walk all the—”

“I just mean, if you and Bobby, I don’t know, start reminiscing and rekindling something or whatever,” Eddie waved a dismissive hand, still not looking at Richie, “...you might not need me.”

Richie blinked.

“I always need you.”

Why don’t you just propose and get it over with, jackass?

He bit the inside of his cheek in punishment, but the damage was done.

“To uh...to pick you up, I meant,” Eddie replied, clearing his throat, face flushed.

Richie knew he was staring, but he couldn’t help it. Sometimes, he was astounded by how Eddie didn’t seem to realise just how absolutely fucking imperative he was in pretty much every aspect of Richie’s life.

"The sentiment still stands."

With that, he opened the car door and hopped out before he lost his nerve.

“Thanks, Eds,” he mumbled, leaning in the passenger window to where Eddie finally caught his eye, “wish me luck.”

A ghost of a smile appeared on Eddie’s face.

“Good luc—"

The blast of a car horn cut him off.

“I’M DROPPING SOMEONE OFF, ASSHOLE! GO AROUND!” Eddie yelled over his shoulder at what looked like a scandalised soccer-mom in a hatchback.

Richie chuckled, always tickled by his friend’s intense road-rage. He could tell, even without turning to look that they had gained the attention of many of Frying Nemo’s patrons and a petty part of him kinda hoped that Bobby was one of them.

See, Valens? I have people who care about me so much that they’ll scream at random moms in the street. Suck on that.

“Later, Ratso. I’ll call ya when I’m done. Thanks, man.”

He gave him a quick grin and a cheeky wave before turning on his heel and forcing himself to head inside, lest he do something dumb like lean into the car and kiss Eddie goodbye.

“That reference doesn’t even make sense!”

Richie snorted as Eddie yelled after him before honking the horn, presumably at mother-of-the-year behind him and pulled away with more gas than probably needed. It never failed to baffle him how a man who could be so soft, so caring and kind with his friends, could also be that big of an asshole. Eddie Kaspbrak was a man with layers.

And Richie loved him for it.

“Wow. I think your boyfriend needs some anger management, Rick.”

Richie’s eyes snapped up, fingers hovering over the door handle to the restaurant as Bobby Valens saddled up beside him.

"Nah," Richie shook his head, not bothering to correct the term 'boyfriend' for reasons he didn't wanna look too closely at, "he manages just fine. That momager in the hatchback though, she might need therapy now."

A familiar, too-white smile passed over his ex's (admittedly handsome) face.

"You haven't changed a bit, Rick."

"And I told you before Bobby, it's Rich, Richie or Sir, if you're nasty," Richie replied airily before throwing the door open and gesturing, "let's get this over with, shall we?"

~*~

He should just go home.

Home to his house.

Where he lived.

With Richie.

Instead, he was in the parking lot of a Whole Foods just two blocks away from Frying Nemo, head resting on his steering wheel, his stomach nauseous as he recalled what he had seen in the rear view mirror as he peeled away from the restaurant over an hour ago.

A tall, blond man approaching Richie, a smile on his incredibly attractive face. Of course it was Bobby. It had to be. In Eddie’s experience, the universe was never kind enough to him for the plausibility of Richie’s ex-boyfriend being anything but an Alexander Skarsgård lookalike.

“Get a fucking grip, Kaspbrak,” he grumbled under his breath. “It’s not a date, and even if it was, that’s none of your business. You’re his best friend, his roommate, not his boyfrien—”

Wouldn't it be nice if we were older, then we wouldn't have to wait so long? And wouldn't it be nice to live together, in the kind of world where we belong…

Slowly, Eddie raised his head from the steering wheel as the familiar song filled the car from the almost-mute radio. Reaching out, he turned up the volume. Suddenly, a memory jumped forward from the deep recesses of his mind - a sunny afternoon in the Tozier kitchen, Richie’s mom at the kitchen sink, washing up dishes after she, Eddie and Richie had spent the last hour making chocolate brownies. They couldn’t have been more than nine or ten at the time, still young enough not to completely scoff at the idea of spending time with parents, but old enough to be trusted with kitchen utensils.

Well, Eddie was anyway.

Richie had begged to lick the spoon, because of course he did. Which launched little Eddie into a conniption about salmonella and good cooking hygiene which had Richie rolling his eyes and dipping his finger into the remnants of the mixture and swiping it across Eddie’s cheek.

Eddie could vividly remember the high-pitched squeal he had let out to his best friend’s endless amusement.

“You’re so gross, Rich! Do you have any idea how much—”

The feel of a finger swiping back against his cheek cut him off. He watched wide-eyed as Richie raised his finger to his mouth and licked the chocolate clean off.

“RICHIE!”

That had only made Richie laugh harder.

“Relax, Eds. I’m not afraid of your germs,” he grinned toothily, his overbite seemingly taunting Eddie as he frantically wiped at his cheek.

“Well you should be!”

“Afraid of that face? Nope, never,” Richie’s grin widened as his other hand darted out and pinched the cheek Eddie wasn’t cleaning only to have Eddie bat it away, his stomach twisting, his entire face heating up for some reason.

“Richard, stop that,” Maggie Tozier piped up kindly but firmly, her back still turned as she dried her soapy hands on a dish cloth and fiddled with the knobs on the radio.

...in the kind of world where we belong. You know it's gonna make it that much better, when we can say goodnight and stay together…

“Aw mom,” Richie’s nose crinkled, “can’t we listen to—”

“And after having spent the day together,” Maggie sang over Richie’s protests to the amusement of Eddie, winking at him over her shoulder, “hold each other close the whole night through…”

She let out a surprised laugh when Went, Richie's dad, took that opportunity to appear behind his wife and wrap her in a hug, mumbling into her ear as he swayed them back and forth.

Richie made gagging noises and motions at both the lyrics and his parents' antics (even though Eddie thought it was nice, an ache forming somewhere in his chest as he looked at them, happy and in love), but to his surprise, Richie soon began humming along too, bumping his shoulder against Eddie’s.

He remembered looking at him, then, when Richie wasn’t paying attention, too focused on ignoring his parents and scraping out the bowl for more chocolate to lick, swaying gently back and forth almost unbeknownst himself. Eddie had had thought, then, in his ten year old mind, that it would be nice. To live with Richie, germs and all, in the kinda world that didn’t constantly shit on them for being losers and freaks and...all the other horrible words that they were called. He did think and wish and hope and pray that it would come true. That someday they could get far, far away from Derry and all the shitty things that went with it.

We could be married, we could be married, and then we'd be happy, and then we'd be happy - oh, wouldn't it be nice?

Oh.

Oh.

Eddie had felt his cheeks heat up then. He had never paid attention to those lyrics before.

His stomach had swooped in a way he could never understand when he caught the small smile on Richie’s face, his eyes dancing bright behind his glasses, as their shoulders lightly brushed together, but he was old and wise enough to get it now, sitting alone in a Whole Foods parking lot.

I loved him even then.

Bzzzzzz. Bzzzzzzzz.

Eddie was snapped out of his trip down memory lane by the sound of a vibration coming from somewhere in the front of the car. Bewildered, he looked around, instinctively knowing it couldn’t be his phone. Eventually, his eyes fell onto the passenger seat and he sighed heavily.

Richie’s cell lay face up, alight with what looked like a Twitter notification.

The idiot had forgotten his phone.

“So much for calling me when he’s done,” Eddie grumbled to himself, rolling his eyes and straightening up further, sliding his keys into the ignition.

Looked like he was making yet another trip to Richie’s favourite LA dive.

~*~

He was definitely overdressed. He knew that going in. Hell, he knew that when Eddie had suggested this shirt in the first place, but fuck. It was Eddie. What was he gonna do, say no? The record showed that he hadn’t been able to achieve that feat since he had refused to help Eddie come up with date ideas for Stacey Winters when he was strong armed into asking her to the Fall Festival in ‘91.

Turned out, he could only handle so much, and apparently his threshold was helping the love of his life plan a date for someone else. Everything else though? Fair game. Hence, the fancy navy shirt Bev designed for his birthday in an establishment where the most people ‘dressed up’ was wearing rhinestone flip flops.

"You look good, Tozier," Bobby smiled, gesturing at him as they were ushered to their seats by a flustered waitress.

The lunch rush had just begun. Frying Nemo may have been known for being a little rough around the edges, but they made (among other things) a damn good tuna melt. And anyone not off gluten, fish or dairy within a twenty block radius knew it.

"Thanks," Richie murmured as he picked up his menu (despite knowing what he wanted already), just to avoid eye-contact, "you too."

He looked like a runway model dressed in beachwear who had wandered off the catwalk and into this greasy spoon diner by mistake.

But fucked if Richie would tell him so.

Besides, in recent years, he had been reminded what actual beauty was to him and it was less Malibu Ken and more small-town-in-Maine Ken.

(Not that he would ever tell Eddie that either.)

“So, what’s good here?”

Richie allowed his eyes to trail up over the top of the menu to meet the icy-grey gaze that had once held his attention but now made him realise he actually found a little off-putting when levelled his way.

“Uh, the tuna melt, cheese burger, hot wings and cheese steak are all safe bets,” he murmured, “but my all-time favourite has gotta be the Mac ‘n’ Cheese. It’s the second-best in all of L.A.”

“Only second?”

Richie tilted his head.

“Yeah. Eddie’s is first.”

Bobby’s eyebrow quirked as he gestured over his shoulder, “And that was Eddie in the SUV—”

“Yelling at the soccer mom, yeah.”

A slow smile passed over Bobby’s face. Richie’s stomach lurched.

“He’s cute.”

“He’s not your type.”

“No. He’s yours.”

Richie could feel his face heat up.

The smile grew bigger.

Richie shifted in his seat.

“I don’t have a type.”

Bobby chuckled, a sharp, thin sound that Richie found he hadn’t missed at all.

“Yeah Rich, you do. I always knew I was the exception.”

Richie dropped the menu, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back in his seat.

“The fuck does that mean?”

They were doing this. After three years, they were finally having this conversation in the middle of a crowded diner when they were supposed to be talking about Richie’s comeback.

Huh. So much for professionalism.

“It means,” Bobby leaned forward, steepling his fingers, lips quirked, “that I always knew your head, heart, and sometimes dick, wasn’t in it, Tozier.”

Richie’s jaw dropped.

“I knew it, and deep down, I think you did too.”

Richie snorted, shaking his head, “Is that what ya gotta say to yourself to justify getting blown by Evan in the back seat of the limo I sent for you? That I just wasn’t into it anyway so what’s a little extracurricular dickalingus between friends?”

He could hear the tightness in his voice. The bitterness. And worst of all, the hurt.

Embarrassment curled in his gut.

A flash of...shame (?) crossed Bobby’s face. Richie wasn’t sure, he never could read him well.

“I am sorry about that, Richie. I—I never meant to hurt you, I swear. I know it’s no excuse, but I could tell you weren’t that into it so I...I didn’t think you’d care. We hadn’t defined anything and—”

“Yeah, yeah, save the speech, Valens. I got it the first time,” Richie cut him off with a wave of his hand, “let’s just do what we came here to do, okay? Steve will have my balls in a vice if I don’t at least try his shitty re-branding idea.”

Bobby nodded, jaw tight but offering no argument.

And so, they ordered lunch, Richie going with his Mac ‘n’ Cheese and Bobby opting for the shrimp salad. Richie forced himself to at least feign paying attention as Bobby talked logistics of his new, post-coming-out image and, loath Richie admit it, he even had some pretty good ideas how to market this more honest, real version of Richie without completely alienating his entire following - just the homophobes, racists and sexists. ‘Cause fuck them.

“Steve gave me a taste of your new material Rich, and holy crap, it’s gold,” Bobby smiled as he laid down his fork after taking his last bite, “the stuff with the Losers, growing up in Maine, it’s funny shit, man. I gotta ask though,” he paused, looking a little conflicted as if he wasn’t sure he wanted to say what was on his mind.

Richie’s nerves pricked under his skin as he waited.

“Is the hypochondriac, fanny-pack kid, the same Eddie as....” he waved over his shoulder meaningfully.

“Mr Road Rage personified?” Richie asked.

Bobby nodded.

Richie felt as if this was some sort of test that not only did he not study for, but had slept through every single class.

“Uh, yeah. Same guy.”

Something that looked a lot like understanding passed over Bobby’s face.

“So you’ve known him since you were a kid?”

Oh yeah. Richie was flunking this. Big time.

“Since kindergarten, yeah. We uh...we lost touch after high school, but reconnected a few years ago.”

Bobby leaned back in his chair, a ghost of a smile on his lips as he muttered softly, “Well, that explains a lot.”

Richie knew he’d just received his first ‘F’ since he tried to bring his diorama made out of dried snot to Show ‘n’ Tell in first grade.

“What exactly does that ‘explain?’”

Bobby’s steely gaze met his.

“He’s not just your type, Rich. He’s your prototype.”

“What?”

Richie cringed at his voice that was noticeably an octave higher than usual, snatching up his glass of iced tea and taking a large gulp.

“Let’s be real, you always gravitated towards short, dark-haired, kinda pissy guys,” Bobby shrugged, watching him closely, “and correct me if I’m wrong, but it sounds like Eddie is the original ‘short, pissy brunet’ in your life. Ergo...prototype.”

God. What kinda asshole says ‘ergo’?

Richie was very aware that he was gaping, (probably like the fish that the table next to them had definitely ordered if the smell was any indication,) but he couldn’t stop himself.

Because, fuck. Bobby had a point.

Now that he thought about it, all the guys he had had any passing interest in over the years, from his first fling in college, to his infrequent hook-ups in bars and later, Grindr, had all been similar in appearance, and the few he had actually had had a conversation with were noticeably more…snarky than most.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He had somehow subconsciously sought out Eddie-replacements even when he couldn’t properly remember the asshole.

What the fuck is wrong with me?!

“First of all, Eddie is more than some short, pissy brunet,” Richie began, jabbing his fork at Bobby, the need to defend his best friend stronger than any current crisis he was having, “he's smart, he’s funny, shit, way funnier than me, and has the biggest heart of anyone I know. Second of all, just because I blew a few dark-haired dudes in my time does not mean I have a type, and—”

“Whoa, whoa, Rich. Easy,” Bobby laughed, holding up his hands in surrender, “I didn’t mean anything by it, man. Just an observation. I’m glad you found someone. Really.”

Richie’s silence must have spoken volumes, because Bobby started frowning, leaning across the table with an unreadable expression on his face.

“Eddie is your boyfriend, right?”

Just as Richie opened his mouth, a hand landed on his shoulder.

“You forgot something, genius.”

Richie’s eyes snapped up to meet Eddie who was holding out his cellphone with the hand that wasn’t currently resting an inch from the slope of his neck. He fought back a shiver. It wasn’t Eddie’s fault he didn’t know just how much of an erogenous zone that was for him.

“Eds, uh...how-how long have you been standing there?” he forced out as his gaze trailed over his friend’s face that was marred with something unreadable.

“I just got here,” Eddie shrugged, their fingers brushing as he dropped the phone into Richie’s palm and held out his now empty one to Bobby.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he began, not sounding very sorry at all, his grip tensing a little on Richie’s shoulder.

Bobby blinked before reaching out to shake the offered hand.

“It’s all good, we’re just about wrapping up anyway. I’m Bobby. An old friend of Richie’s.”

Eddie blinked.

“I’m Eddie. An older friend of Richie’s.”

They shook hands for what felt like an uncomfortably-long time.

“Uh…” Richie murmured, looking back and forth between the pair as their hands finally dropped, “okay, we good then, Bobby? You get everything you need for Friday?”

Bobby’s eyes stayed locked onto Eddie’s for a beat before he finally met Richie’s.

“Yeah, Rich. We’re good to go.”

“Okay cool,” Richie began as he went to stand up, only to have Eddie push him gently back down, hand still clamped on his shoulder, his thumb rubbing back and forth against his collarbone in a way that if they weren’t in a crowded restaurant, Richie would have allowed himself to enjoy a bit too much.

“I’ll bring the car ‘round…” Eddie murmured quietly, as he leaned down impossibly close, and to Richie’s astonishment, kissed him lightly on the corner of his mouth, barely half an inch from his lips.

As he pulled away, Richie stared up at him, their eyes finally meeting. He couldn’t read what was laced there, in that dark gaze that he never quite forgot over those twenty-three, Eddie-less years.

“I’ll let you guys finish up,” Eddie continued louder, still staring so intently that Richie felt he was being X-rayed before turning away and addressing their very captive audience.

“Nice meeting you, Bobby,” he said in a way that suggested it was anything but, before he inclined his head at Richie and turned on his heel, “I’ll see you in the car, Rich.”

With that, he took his leave, Richie swivelling in his seat to keep gaping at his retreating back.

Eds kissed me.

Eddie Kaspbrak just fucking kissed me.

Me.

Practically on the mouth.

Holy shit.

“Wow. He does not like me one bit, huh?” Bobby snort-laughed from behind Richie, breaking him for his inner-freak-out, “can’t say I blame the guy.”

Richie slowly turned around in his seat.

“I really am sorry, Rich. For what it’s worth.”

Richie could do nothing more than nod, still unable to fully snap himself out of it as the waitress began to approach their table.

“Can we get the check, please?”

~*~

“Fuck, shit, fuck!”

Eddie fought the urge to punch the steering wheel as he hissed to himself in the driver’s seat. He had left the cafe and walked back to the car in a blur, managing to pull it round front despite his mind being full of static, like angry bees, his body working on autopilot, incapable of higher brain function because...he had just kissed Richie.

He fucking kissed Richie Tozier.

His best friend since kindergarten.

Right on the edge of his mouth, in front of his ex-boyfriend.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” he growled under his breath as he squeezed the wheel, watching as his knuckles flushed a ghostly white.

He didn’t know what came over him, he really didn’t. His intention had just been to give Richie his dumb phone and hightail it outta there as fast as his loafers could carry him, but when he had approached the table…

“Eddie is your boyfriend, right?”

That’s what Bobby had asked.

His tone sounded almost smug, as if he had somehow caught Richie out, and so Eddie just...acted. Before he could think, could analyse the potential risks, he leaned down and kissed Richie like a boyfriend would when saying goodbye.

Because fuck Bobby Valens. Fuck him for trying to get Richie to admit that he was still single. Fuck him for maybe implying that if that were the case, than maybe they could rekindle something. Fuck him for—

But is that what he was implying?

The thought crept in from the depths of his mind, a tiny, uncertain voice that somehow sounded like his 13-year-old-self.

Or were you just afraid of what Richie would say?

“Phew, sorry Eds, some dude wanted a selfie.”

Eddie jumped as Richie wrenched open the passenger door and climbed in, pulling on his seatbelt and drumming his hands on his knees, hyperactive energy wafting from him in droves.

“You didn’t yell the guy’s face off, did you?” Eddie forced himself to reply, willing his voice to be normal as he focussed on the road, pulling away from the curb, the ridiculously-named cafe and Bobby fucking Valens and his dumb hot-Swedish-actor looks.

He could practically feel Richie’s wince as he no doubt thought of the poor kid from The Jade of the Orient. Eddie mentally sent up his thanks to magic-turtle-bullshit for resurrecting Dean and the other recently-dead kids along with him, Stan and Adrian Mellon. It may have forever traumatised and baffled their loved-ones, and probably put the kids in therapy for the rest of their lives, but at least they were alive for Richie to mistakenly freak out at them again.

“No, I didn’t yell at him,” Richie snorted, his fingers still tapping on his knees, “even when he quoted the girlfriend’s friend’s Facebook joke at me.”

Now it was Eddie’s turn to wince as he pulled to a stop at a red light.

“Well, just think - soon, they’ll be quoting your own words back at you instead.”

“Huh. Yeah. Maybe.”

Seconds ticked by as Eddie stared up at the stop light, hyper-aware of Richie’s eyes burning a hole into the side of his face.

“Definitely,” he replied, his eyes never leaving the light, “your stuff is a million times funnier than—”

“—Why did you kiss me, Eddie?”

Despite knowing it was coming, Eddie’s heart still leapt into his throat as he clenched his hands around the wheel, willing for the light to turn green just so he would have something to do to postpone answering.

The light stayed red.

And the universe was plotting against him again.

Time to face the music, Kaspbrak.

“I uh...I’m sorry about that, Rich,” he thought was as good a start as any as he swallowed the bile rising up his throat, “I um...I thought...I heard Bobby ask if I was your boyfriend when I was walking up to the table and I...I guess I thought it was a good idea for him to think that you’d moved on from him?”

It phrased it like a question even though, upon reflection, he realised that was exactly what was going through his mind as he heard that asshat inquire about their relationship.

That didn’t mean it wasn’t a shitty thing to do, though.

The light stayed red.

Eddie let out a slow breath, “That wasn’t my call to make though. I...I realise that and I’m sorry. You’re successful and happy in your own right, in or out of a relationship. It wasn’t my place to let him think that we—that you and me are—whatever he probably thought. I’m sorry if I fucked up something for you guys.”

The light turned green.

Richie stayed quiet.

Eddie stepped on the gas with more gusto than probably needed.

He resolutely did not look to his right.

They travelled about two blocks when Richie finally piped up.

“You didn’t fuck anything up, Eds. I wouldn’t take that dickwad back if he shit gold and his come tasted like chocolate.”

Don’t think about Richie blowing Bobby. Don’t think about Richie blowing—

“Besides,” Richie continued airily, “I don’t give a fuck what he thinks. Don’t think I ever did. It’s not like I was in love with the guy.”

Eddie’s grip loosened on the steering wheel, his eyes wandering to his right almost against his will.

Richie was staring right back at him.

“Wait...you weren’t in love with him? But—” Eddie blinked, “but I thought you said you told him you were? That he was the only person you ever said it to?”

Richie shrugged, “I did. He was. But I didn’t realise back then that I didn’t actually mean it.”

He shifted in his seat a little, eyes falling to his lap.

“I only recently remembered what actual love feels like. And figured out my heart was never really his to break.”

Eddie’s own heart lurched in his chest.

The loud beep of a car horn shook him from his trance.

Shit. When had he stopped the car?

“Uh, you good, Eds?”

Richie was back looking at him now, a flicker of concern in his wide, blue eyes that had haunted Eddie’s dreams in the dead of night for long, lonely years.

“Yeah, sorry,” Eddie shook his head, trying to get his focus back on the road and not on what, or maybe who, made Richie have such a realisation.

That way madness lies.

Another few minutes passed in relative silence, though not really for Eddie as his pulse was pounding loudly in his ears. He was just entertaining the idea of turning on the radio to drown it out, when he heard Richie begin softly mumbling a familiar melody under his breath.

“Wouldn't it be nice if we were older, then we wouldn't have to wait so long? And wouldn't it be nice to live together, in the kind of world where we belon—”

Eddie made a sharp lane-change, ignoring various car horns as he abruptly pulled the car to a stop, putting it in park and taking his keys out of the ignition.

“Eddie, what the—”

“We’re older,” he cut across a startled Richie, whose eyes were so wide behind his glasses it reminded Eddie of his coke-bottle ones from fourth grade.

“What?”

Eddie raised his gaze up a little to meet Richie’s.

“Why did you sing that song?”

A line formed in between Richie’s eyebrows.

“The Beach Boys? I uh...I heard it in the diner during lunch. It reminded me of that time when we—”

“Made brownies with your mom,” Eddie finished, his heart racing as he took off his seatbelt, letting it fling back against the door in the way he usually hated but could not give a fuck about now.

Richie’s eyebrows raised high on his forehead.

“Eds, what are you—”

“We’re older, Richie,” Eddie repeated, swallowing the lump in his throat, dragging a palm down his face as he internally warred with himself.

What the fuck are you doing, Kaspbrak?!

Richie blinked.

“Yeah man, we’re old as shit. What’s that gotta—”

“We’re older and we live together and...” the words lodged in Eddie’s throat, his breath catching.

Suddenly, he was flinging the car door open and stepping out.

“Eddie!”

He could hear Richie frantically unbuckling his seatbelt, scrambling to open his own door, but was far too focused on trying to gasp in breaths, cursing not for the first time, his lack of inhaler, however obsolete he knew it truly was.

Richie stumbled around the car to the driver’s side, catching himself on the wing mirror and straightening up before reaching his hand out to lightly rest on Eddie’s shoulder.

“Just breathe, Eds. You’re okay, I got you. It’ll pass, man. You’re fine—”

Eddie stepped forward, forcing Richie backwards, crowding him against the car.

“I wanted what your mom and dad had.”

A myriad of expressions crossed Richie’s face as he clutched his forearm, raising his head to reach his eyeline.

“Eddie—”

“That day making brownies, watching your mom and dad sing and dance around the kitchen, that’s when I started wanting to have that...with you.”

“You...wanna sing and dance in our kitchen with me?”

Eddie almost groaned at the confusion marring Richie’s face and lacing his tone.

Why are words so hard?

“Richie,” he breathed, heart bashing against his ribcage as he struggled to express what he was feeling, “we’re not those kids anymore. We’re older, we live together, we say goodnight and…”

Whatever surge of courage that had been fueling him quickly started to drain as he heard how insane he sounded. He felt himself deflate.

“Shit, I—I don’t know what I’m doing. Forget it. Sorry...let’s just go home.”

He let go of Richie’s arm, made to step back towards the car door, only for Richie to grab his hand, tugging him gently back.

“Our home.”

Eddie stared at their joined hands before slowly raising his eyes back up.

Something was shining in Richie’s gaze that had his stomach flipping.

“We have a home,” he continued, “we have a place that’s just for us, where we can dance around like my mom and dad if we wanted...where we’re happy.”

He squeezed Eddie’s hand.

“You sing around me.”

Eddie nodded.

“Because I’m the exception. Have always been the exception. That’s what you said.”

Eddie nodded again.

“Why is that, Eds? Why am I—”

Eddie surged up and cut him off with a kiss, hard and chaste.

Richie stumbled back in surprise, his other hand flying to Eddie’s hip as he fell back against the edge of the hood, dragging Eddie down with him.

The kiss broke on impact.

Eddie straightened up, eyes springing open, his entire body freezing as his brain caught up with him.

Shit. You’ve done it now, asswipe.

~*~

Eddie looked like a deer caught in the biggest headlights known to man. His large, dark, Bambi-eyes as wide as saucers.

It made Richie’s stomach swoop all the same while he leaned against the car for half a second, to give himself a moment to digest what just happened. To give his world time to right its axis.

The love of his life had just kissed him. Again. For the second time in less than an hour.

Except this time, it wasn’t for an audience, and it was square on the lips.

Holy fuck.

“Shit, Rich—I’m sorry. I…” Eddie shuffled back, looking for all intents and purposes like he was preparing to just run straight into the passing traffic.

“Shit, I’ve fucked things up, haven’t I?” he rambled, raking his hands through his hair, it sticking up at all angles, his voice rising with borderline hysteria as he continued to back away, “Shit, I’m such a fucking idiot. You don’t want—I shouldn’t have—”

Richie leapt up off the car and closed the distance between them so fast he felt his head spin. He halted half a foot from Eddie, bending his knees just slightly to catch his gaze.

He took a deep breath, finally allowing himself to ask the question he had wanted to ask since he was a lovesick, utterly-smitten twelve year old.

“Eds. Eddie...can I kiss you?”

A shaky gasp escaped Eddie’s lips half second before he gave a vigorous jerk of his head, a definite, unmistakable nod.

Elation flowed through Richie’s entire body as he slowly leaned down, his heart feeling as if it was going to burst out of his chest John-Hurt-style any second now.

He reached out to gently clasp Eddie’s cheek, his thumb brushing over the slightly-raised scar that lay there. One of two scars that proved just how brave this man was.

Their lips met, softer this time, but no less passionate.

Eddie let out the quietest of moans, lighting a spark in Richie’s gut as his tongue trailed his bottom lip. He felt Eddie’s hands grip his waist tightly as the kiss deepened, their tongues brushing against each other.

Richie hummed into the kiss, eyebrows shooting up his forehead as Eddie began pushing him until his back collided with the car door with enough force to slam it closed, his shoulders thumping against the window.

The kiss broke as the need for oxygen took over.

Richie heaved in desperate breaths, cupping Eddie’s chin and peppering his jaw with pecks.

“G-Gotta say, Eds. I’m loving the man-handling.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh.

"It's always kinda been a fantasy of mine to make out with you up against my car, on the hood, in the backseat…"

Molten heat pooled in Richie’s abdomen.

“Right. I forgot about your hard-on for cars.”

Eddie shoved him, harder this time, before leaning up pecking his lips, once, twice.

“Do not mention hard-ons right now, dipshit.”

A giddy thrill ran up Richie’s spine as he tilted his head all innocent-like.

“Whyever not, Eduardo?

The glare Eddie attempted to level him with was less effective with his hands wandering along Richie’s lower-back, ghosting over his tail-bone.

“You’re such an asshole. I can’t believe I’m in love with you.”

Richie’s brain short-circuited.

Eddie tensed, his hands freezing in place as he tilted back to stare up at him.

“I-I mean, uh—”

“And you’re such a little turd,” Richie replied, his voice hoarse, his heart singing as he finally said the words that had felt written into his very DNA, “I can’t believe I’ve been in love with you since your fanny-pack days.”

Something settled within Richie, then. Slotting into place like a puzzle piece finally found.

Huh. So that's how it feels to mean it.

A bright, beautiful smile broke out on Eddie’s face, his eyes noticeably shiny.

Richie could feel the tell-tale stinging in his own, knowing he was seconds from blubbering on the side of the road like a drunk girl after a party.

Patting Eddie’s cheek, softer than he had that time down in the sewers, Richie placed one last kiss on the side of his mouth before tapping his hip.

“Hmm, let’s get you home, Spagheds. I’m pretty sure we’re illegally parked and I think you’ve pissed off enough of L.A’s motorists for one day.”

He could practically feel Eddie roll his eyes as they righted themselves, Richie forlornly making his way back around the car and into the passenger seat.

It was when they were pulling into their driveway, hands clasped together as they rested high on Eddie’s thigh, that Richie heard the quiet, dulcet tones that he had fallen in love with.

“And wouldn't it be nice to live together in the kind of world where we belong? You know it's gonna make it that much better, when we can say goodnight and stay together…”

Who needs Frank Sinatra when you’ve got Eddie Kaspbrak?

***********************

(Can be read as a one-shot OR PART 1 // PART 2 // PART 3)

(More Reddie fics here)

[heliconcarpet]

Any Port in a Storm

Pic source

Chapter : 4 of 5 ( 1 | 2 | 3 )

Relationship : Trafalgar Law x Gn!Reader childhood friend

Summary : Before the warlords title, or while he became a mastermind of any crucial incident, like the downfall of two sea emperors, Trafalgar Law was only a boy who was looking for his dear childhood friend through North Blue into the New World. It's what he seeks that is seeking him.

 

.

All Law wants only to perform a neurosurgery to shut the hippocampus down in a while. He wants to do a little fix so he won't experience a sudden jolt awake from sleep anymore. He is sometimes amused by the unconscious mind work, on how they conjure the past memories easily. Law's sleeping habit is something like a public secret, the rest of people here knew it well. He rises from the sleeping form, the heartbeat is still increasingly wild and cold sweats soaked his temple. He takes a good minute to manage his breathing before leaving the room, heading to the kitchen pantry for a cup of coffee. Instead of continuing to sleep, Law is typical of a person who kept his eyes open once he got woken up. Besides, he's a fan of being the one who doesn't sleep during the quietest moment.

There's a small frame of the round window which is enough to place Law coffee's cup. The moonlight gets infiltrated from the surface, bright and blinding the darkness of underwater. A common underwater scene which Law didn't get tired of. He peeks through the round window in front of him, sees the fishes with the variation sizes swim across. In these quiet hours, Law likes to observe the underwater activities while the back of his mind still processes the plans he'd made. Also, in these quiet hours Law feels he becomes a whole part of his vulnerable side. A part which everyone would think twice to understand about Law.

Suddenly, a fish just distracted him and it's a yellow tang. In the early days of Heart Pirates, Law and the other three decided to give their yellow submarine name after the surgeon fish. Lately he has been keen into studying marine zoology, alas to be master at the medical field acquired a lifetime learner.

It's because the excitement is not far from his anatomy frog project, back when he was eight years old and had you as Law's personal artist. It was a part of your job to supply anatomies doodling while Law drowned himself into huge encyclopedias. When Flevance memories are recalled, Law only chuckles in disbelief. The taste of those memories are similar to a saccharin. But above it all, a silly astonishment like an inner child was made from Law's last memory about you and it was more than enough to keep it alive. A cup of coffee was getting colder, Law then sips it slowly. He started thinking about adding the shopping list for fish anatomy encyclopedia when they arrived at the spring climate island.

_____________________

Polar Tang has docked safely under the sea cliff. First thing Law has noticed from the island is the wind. A smell of spring, a breeze kind of wind which is neither too cold nor humid. Everyone gathers around out from the submarine, each crew have their vivre card in their pockets or some of them grab their personal dendenmushi as well. Plan A said, they're going to stay about two days until there are no items supplies left. On a day off, they rarely wear a usual Heart Pirates jumpsuit and even Law has sunk himself in his oversized white jumper without the mushroom hat. Penguin, Bepo, and Shachi take responsibility for stocking the medic herbs, and the three walk together to the medic stores. The crews start to spread out doing their own tasks when they arrive in the island's downtown. Law, before everyone went for walks, he was nowhere to be seen. It's his habit to wander alone, but the places where he is heading are always the same, a bookstore.

This town, Law begins to think, has a similar vibe with Flevance. The construct of the house building was the same except a colour choice for them. Flevance is dominated with cool tones such white and pale blue colours while here this town has a warm tone. A brownish brick for house material almost everywhere, also in each corner Law could see the flower shops. He didn't miss every single daisies bucket in each store, the tiny petals and yellow dots from them made Law's mind wander a lot to the past. He's in a stoning position just to stare the daisies bucket across him. Law's getting back in reality after the flower shop owner greets him cheerfully and Law decides to ask the bookstore location he searched for.

The bookstore is apparently way far from downtown, when Law finally spotted the place, it didn't look like a store. Rather than a bookstore it is called a retro shop which sells antique furniture. A tiny doorbell rings, Law enters the shop and his eyes meet the owner, a middle aged man who enjoys sitting behind the payment bar. Law made a nod gesture for him then the owner smiled in response. Law's brown boots clicked the wooden floor beneath him, the material design for the shop interior mostly wood with green plants in every corner. He feels like he is walking in an old library of the woods, a pile of books neatly placed in wooden bookshelves. Carefully, he reads every title of medical books, flipped page by page, and checks the table of content. While Law was in deep focus, the doorbell in front of the store just chirped aloud. When someone visits the store besides Law, they greet the shop owner with the usual good afternoon and start for further talk. At noon, it seems there were only two people, three, including Law, at the store.

" Uncle, can I have my book request from last week? " they said, the owner then directed, pointing to the bookshelves near Law's current standing. Law's mind is too busy scanning the book title and when he's going to take a book in front of him but it gets stuck in the middle. Apparently there's a hand from the bookshelf across which grabs the same book. They both shared a gaze in a moment, Law could see the twinkling eyes from them before he let the book be taken.

" Oh, you need this book too? " they started to speak to Law but he only responded to it in silence. In second, Law already had their presence standing next to him.

" You seem to urgently need this book though, anyway you can have it. '' said them, a smile appeared on their face, offering the book in their right hand. There's a long pause till they finally return the book in the first place. Law only stares at their eyes yet his mind is busy tracing down the past memories until he is unable to respond to them.

" Have a good day, Mr.? '' they leave Law alone amongst the bookshelves. Their straw hat with the hint of yellow ribbon was enough to make Law's knees hit the wooden floor. The sense of familiarity with the hat slaps Law unpleasantly. He then overheard the owner call them with their full name. The two syllable names which make Law chuckle on how Earth had done for playing around his fate. Without hesitation he briskly walked to them. Law could feel his breathing start unsteady and his chest accrue the aches.

" Hi young man, may I help you? '' an uncle owner said to Law. They too now could sense someone's presence behind them so they turn their back to face it. Their twinkling eyes welcome Law again, " Oh hello, finally decide to buy that book? '' greets them, their head slightly tilted to study Law's face.

" Hi (Full name), it's me. Your ghost from the past. " said Law. His voice cracks as a small giggle appears on Law's face. Law now feels dumbfounded by their own fate. They furrowed their brows, got puzzled by the riddle from a guy in front of him. After minutes passed, Law sees their mouth slightly hanging open, head dizzy once they recognize his golden eyes and dark hair.

" It's Law, Trafalgar Law. Don't you remember me, (Name)? " said Law.

" (Name), is this young man a friend of yours? " ask the uncle of the bookstore owner, his face obviously confused. You just nod at the uncle owner. The second thing is, Law spreads the arms to wrap your rigid body. Law only repeats his name to your ears, those ears which used to hear the devastating news from Flevance. Lucky for both of you because the store was in less visitors hours as you two were busy crying. In this exhausted noon, the call you've made thirteen years ago unexpectedly answered you back.

_____________________

You two spent a good thirty minutes only crying in each other's arms and then you had to sit together in the store backyard. The uncle owner served two cups of green tea to calm you both down. Law remembers that the last time he cried his eyes out was when he was in Minions Island after Cora-san departed, now he gets the light headache from heavy crying. Law eyeing your sides, the small sobs from you still sounding.

" Law, sorry for saying this but I thought I'd never see you anymore since Flevance got demolished by WG. " you said, wiping the small drop of tear in your cheek. You heard Law sighed, he put the tea's cup in between your seats and crossed his arms.

" No need to, (Name), it was almost not a problem though. People assumed that there were no survivors left behind in Flevance. I'm even glad nobody knows I am the only one who's alive. " he leans his back to the walls behind. After two sips or more of his green tea, Law begins to tell you the whole story, a complete one. It begins when you moved from Flevance, his chronology escaping a Flevance's hell, a Minions Island where he met the talking polar bear and the other twos in a neighboring town, until the last story of Law's transit in Amazon Lily as a doctor of Paramount War. You squeeze hard Law's left hand, a faint cough accompanied the silence. You'd never imagined how Law's sunshine smile that you have always remembered could fade away through the cruelty of the world.

" A good thing is, Law, although you've gone the darkest path, your undying passion in medic kept Cora-san's compassion alive in you " you rub Law's tattooed fingers, give him an assurance gesture. A gesture from you that Law realized he longing this much, it makes him smile in warmest. He knew when Cora-san put him in the treasure box because he was the only treasure for Cora-san. So this time, it's Law's turn to put you in his treasure box as he understands you will do the same for him as well. No need to double check when it comes to you. He then gave up from his headache and placed his head at the top of yours.

A moment of silence was interrupted by a sudden masculine voice. A guy with a whale's hat showed in the backyard,

" Captain, what have you been in here? I thought you already in Polar Tang! " he cooing but when he realizes his captain glaring a murder looks at him. It seems their captain was gone. A guy's mouth now hanging open, he may regret shows at the wrong time. Law still in his sitting position, he massaged his temple.

" Hi, Law's friend aren't you?" you then greets him and the whale's hat guy greets you back. You two barely haven't talked, but you could hear another masculine voice come around. This time, a penguin's hat guy helped to pick up their captain.

" Shachi, have you found cap --- WHAT! " he almost shouted. A whale's hat guy stopped his mouth. There were only two guys shown but it sounds like there are ten guys gathered. You notice Law's nerve popping out, he gritting his teeth in annoyance.

" These two are my crew, if you are wondering. Let me talk to them in a moment, wait here will you? " said Law, you give him a low hum for response . You tried to hold the coughing until it became soundless, you won't Law find it out.

" Well then, Captain, don't skip the dinner! " said the whale's hat guy. Those two wave their hands for Law and you. Law back to the shared chair with you.

" So, (Name), you're not living here alone, aren't you? How is Mr. and Mrs. (Surname) going? " Law continues his curious question.

You raise your chin up, staring to the twilight sky above, " It was, but two years ago my mother had passed. About my father, he moved to the HQ office in Mary Geoise. "

" My apology, (Name). But is it too much for your father to leave you alone here? For works under the WG? " said Law. There's a shock tone in Law's voice, especially when he knew what was going on with your father's job.

" Oh, don't worry Law, he's a rebel at heart. Apparently he and some of his colleagues who have similar views, have joined the RA under Dragon-san. A father from a guy you'd saved from Marineford " you explain it really well so it won't make Law misunderstand about the situation.

" Geez, what a man. (Name), you must be proud of your father though. He did a very good movement. " Law said in awe.

" He does. Also they are funding RA's projects these days. " you giggling, imagine the WG got overthrown by their power.

" Anyway (Name), let's have dinner with us! It's already time for dinner " Law asks you. You nod in agreement and reach his offering hand, he just stops from his step and gives a moment to fix your strawhat neatly. You mean, he always does it for you.

.

[sonic-adventure-3]

my ocs’ hobbies (under cut cause it got long)

squabble’s hobbies: aeronautics, she reads weekly magazines about aircrafts and papers and shit. delivery and it’s history. mechanics but largely only building things out of other things and fixing/repurposing things. what’s the fun drawing up a schematic and getting all the right parts when you can try to turn a hairdryer into a flamethrower? her exceptions to that are things that are practically useful on the daily, like her shoes and attachments, and she draws up schematics for her own plane to theoretically build someday (she doesn’t lack the material or knowledge to do it, she just likes the project in her head too much to commit to any given design. plus she already has a plane and doesn’t have the space for another. when that plane breaks down she’ll build the plane of her dreams). also she really likes explosives.

carrion’s hobbies: reading. pulpy noir novels, kant, parenting guides, the art of war, minecraft strategy guides, encyclopedias, shitty comedians memoirs, fantasy novels, theory, and everything else under the sun; you name it, they’ll read it. they also have skills in like every hobby and pastime ever, or at least theoretical knowledge they’ve read about, but on the regular they mainly do stuff that doesn’t require too many parts or dedicated space. origami, wood carving, flower arranging, yo-yo-ing, knife collecting, card tricks, knife tricks, and playing various games both solo and with squabble. they have a proficiency and deep knowledge of like every skill and field ever, but they simply do not care to make that knowledge known ever unless it’s funny or they’re asked directly for something by someone they care about. carrion has a truly scary amount of knowledge and intelligence but they are first and foremost occupied with being a background gag and wasting time.

rig’s hobbies: gun maintenance, architectural drawing, model building. she’ll build any kind of model but is particularly fond of complex stuff with many many pieces, as long as it has a correct state, and likes architecture kits. also likes jigsaw puzzles. loves blocky geometry and sorting and procedures.

jerryjack’s hobbies: stirring shit, picking locks she’s not supposed to pick, observing anything she finds interesting, bullet journaling, and tailoring. they make and alter like 80% of their ever shifting wardrobe. sometimes treats the postal crew like her own personal entertainment

[random4townheadcanons]

4towns hidden talents?

did someone request this HAHAHA

4town members’ hidden talents headcanons

Robaire - Robaire is a ridiculously good cook. Like five star restaurant quality food. Robaire can easily cook even the most complex dishes and make it look easy. He doesn’t even need recipes, he’s just that good. Robaire can also cook pretty much any dish from any nationality with ease.

Jesse - Jesse is an exceptional gift giver. It’s like his sixth sense. He can buy/make something for one of the other members’ birthdays that they never even asked for or knew they wanted. He just knows what to give people, even if it’s someone he doesn’t know that well.

Tae Young - Tae has several hidden talents. He is excellent at baking and makes the best cookies, cakes, pies, pastries etc. He could win The Great British Bake Off if he felt like it. Additionally, he can make uncanny bird noises and thus can communicate with his doves and other birds. (He is the bird whisperer).

Aaron T - T is a walking encyclopedia. He just knows weird facts about everything. If someone asks what year a movie came out, he knows it. He remembers everyone that he meets’ birthdays (he may or may not have a photographic memory). And he could also win a spelling bee without trying. Also, he skateboards, but that’s not a very hidden talent.

Aaron Z - Z is a master at writing people extremely sentimental messages. (Usually in birthday cards). Whenever it’s one of the other members’ birthdays they can expect to cry when they read his card. He just remembers every little detail about everyone and brings it up in his messages/cards etc. sometimes in the middle of the night he will text super long messages of appreciation to the other members and then get all embarrassed in the morning when they see it 🥲.

I hope you like these :)

Keep sending requests!!

[archive-of-the-guild]

✌𝓥𝓲𝓬𝓲𝓸𝓾𝓼 𝓜𝓸𝓬𝓴𝓮𝓻𝔂 𝓢𝓽𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓼!✌

For when your character is fed up, pissed off, vindictive or even just sassy as fuck! Whichever comes first.

______________________________________________________________

"Give my condolences to your mother, seeing that face on the baby she birthed must've been traumatizing"

"Your face is fit for radio and your voice is fit for silent movies"

"I'd tell you to go fuck yourself but I wouldn't wish that horror on even you"

"Ooooh, this one's sharp... sharp as a marble"

"You look like a walking side-effect of a bad potion interaction."

"Boy, you're a few cards short of a full deck aint'chya. Have a card." Proceeds to hand a random chard to Person B.

"You are a background character in your own life."

"You're none of your best friend's best friend."

"I keep wondering why others let you hang around. I mean, most npcs are useful."

"This is exactly the sort of acquisition i would expect from such a paragon of mediocrity."

"Woooowww. That's impressive. Did you smash a clay pot to find that or was it a prize from a county fair?"

"Hey, if you're looking for your dignity, i don't have it."

"You're clearly not the farthest-sliding penguin, are you."

"If you had brains, I'd tell you to think back to everything you ever did. Alas, here we are."

"Why? Just... why?"

"Look at your friends. See what they're doing? That's exactly how you ended up in this predicament."

"So were you bored and decided to ruin your own quest, or...?"

"You know, I love a sensible, level-headed partner... if only you could be like that."

"Whatever you want from me, that's not gonna help."

"Could you not? There are better ways to waste everyone's time."

"You know, even you could be the most clever one in the party. You just need to consider a solo career."

"Ah, a classic. You thought you were smarter than you actually are."

"I'd tell you not to do that, but you're gonna do it anyway."

"Oh, welcome! Let me guess - more bad decisions on top of your previous stupid decisions?"

"I don't know why I even care."

"You do realize I can insult you all day, right?"

"Oh thank you, but I didn't really NEED more material to ridicule you with."

"You need to keep that stupidity of yours in check - there's only so much healing supplies in the world."

"Careful. I hear it can be rather dangerous to use your entire vocabulary in a single sentence."

"It wasn't until I met you that I was grateful for my extremely poor eyesight."

"If you were a spell nobody would bother to learn you."

"Whoa! What diety did your parents piss off to have made you?"

"Look at this one, brain so smooth. No wrinkles. No crinkle."

"What you really need is a miracle to get out of this mess, which I have no doubts was your fault to begin with."

“Look, buddy, I could use a good conversation, so… would you mind leaving?”

"You need to apologize to the trees for all the oxygen you've wasted."

"You're a dollar short and a day late to the fair."

"I'm not even sure science can make use of you."

"If someone took you, consider them your new family, cause i ain't paying to get you back."

"Even a gorgon would keep her eyes shut with you around."

"If I was to make a diss track for you, it would be an encyclopedia."

"When your parents said you could be anything you wanted, a disappointment was not supposed to be an option."

"I have neither the time nor the crayons to explain how much of a bad idea this is."

"Does vicious mockery even work on you? Your intelligence is so low you probably think its a delightful complement."

"I became an atheist after meeting you. What kind of cruel god would allow you to exist?"

"You remind me of Rapunzel, except instead of letting down you hair you let down all of your friends"

"Please have some gum. Or toffee candy. Anything to stop you singing!"

"May you one day deserve the good life."

"If you were any more dense, you'd sink."

"Well, my time of not taking you seriously is coming to a middle!'

"You make a match look as bright as the sun."

"I see you're the kinda fella who packs a bag of sand and forgets a breath mint."

"It must be nice living with your brain. Having to consistently remember to consciously breathe must make up for most of your entertainment."

"You've got 2 braincells fighting for third place."

"My condolences to you for that unfortunate curse you have. What? That's your natural look?"

"I sensed your presence before you even arrived. What did you EAT?!"

"Ha! [laugh] You're funny. But looks aren't everything."

"You've got darkness in your soul. I can smell it! Oh, no wait, I think that's your breath."

“You make me wish my immune system knew my eyes existed.”

"I envy everyone you've never met."

"I'd ask what's wrong with you, but I think it would be faster to ask what isn’t."

"How is it that you have two functional legs yet have gotten absolutely nowhere in your life?"

"If your intellect was the sun, we'd all freeze."

"I know a good way to get rid of flies. You know, for the ones buzzing about in your empty skull."

"Your parents aren't disappointed in you, they know this is you living your best life. Tragic."

"What you just said was so stupid, I could drink alphabet soup and crap out a more coherent sentence."

"Because I pity you, I'll make sure to aim for your face in this fight so that swelling can improve it."

"You would take the bronze medal in a 1 on 1 intellectual competition with a rock"

"When you were born, the doctor said, 'No refunds.'"

"You look like you took every medication in the world and suffered all of the side effects."

"You seem like the type who would lick butter off of the sidewalk."

"You know, whoever invented the word 'fool-proof' clearly never met you."

"I'm really not sure what is deeper: my hatred for you, or this hole you've dug yourself into."

"It's funny that you're confident enough to bet your life on your abilities, yet you don't seem to have any."

"Are you always stupid, or are you making a special effort today?"

"Some day you'll go far..... and I hope you'll stay there."

"I'd like to see things from your point of view, but I can't get my head that far up my ass!"

"By looking at you, now I know what you get when you scrape out the bottom of the barrel!"

"What are you going to do for a face when the monkey wants his ass back?"

"I would try burning you, but burning trash is supposed to be illegal."

[portraitsofsaints]

Saint Isidore of Seville Doctor of the Church 560-636 Feast day: April 4 Patronage: the internet, computer users, technicians and students

Saint Isidore was born in Spain during complex political times, transitioning from the effects of the barbarous Visigoths to a Catholic culture. He received an exceptional classical education, writing the encyclopedia of knowledge, the Etymological, among others. Ordained Bishop in 599, he struggled between the life of solitude to meditate on the Word of God and the demands of ecclesiastical duties. He organized synods to discuss representational government that became the model for European nations.  St. Isidore promoted education by encouraging seminaries and schools built in every diocese. His last dying act was to give away all his possessions.

Prints, holy cards & plaques available here: {website} 

[marvel-ousmondays]

Marvel-ous Mondays... but it's Sunday

I was always, and mostly proudly, a nerd.

My parents had a set of orange student encyclopedias downstairs and they convinced me to do "reports" for fun. I played that Microsoft Encarta Trivia game as well as various incantations of Where in the ?? is Carmen Sandiego and even a math game known as Number Maze for an inordinate percentage of my childhood. I read books and maintained collections and had a microscope I insisted on for Christmas that I didn't know how to use.

But I didn't read comics.

I don't know why exactly. I went to bookstores, I even used to buy baseball cards at the local video game rental place, but I don't even remember SEEING comic books in real life. I also didn't watch X-men Evolution or any of the other great Marvel animation my friends remember. Probably my mom didn't like them for one reason or another, or they may have been on when I was out practicing for various sports. Regardless, I didn't have the usual indoctrination into comicbook universes that my fellow youthful nerds had.

The only small window of Marvel that opened for me pre-teen years was that my neighbor, a boy named Jon, collected X-men cards. And he would want to play X-men with myself and our other friend, Kari. He didn't have very many girl cards (another factor that may have limited my interest) so I was always Storm. (I don't remember who Kari agreed to be.)

These days, awesome as Storm is, I'd opt to be Jean Grey.

Regardless, my nerdy youth did not sense any lack and I continued into nerdy teenagehood unaware of the cinematic superhero renaissance on the horizon. The first of the X-men trilogy with Sir Patrick Stewart as Charles Xavier (and of course, the then barely known amazing Australian, Hugh Jackman, as Wolverine) came out but it didn't garner my interest. I think my friends and I may have even watched it on a movie night (I grew up in a small town- trips to the movie theater 30 minutes away by car were rare and magical and reserved for something you assumed would be awesome... or a birthday), but my mind was probably on something or someone else.

It wasn't until the second movie, where Shawn Ashmore (who I adored from the much too short Animorphs series- yes I loved the books too) had a larger role that my interest was piqued. Genetic evolution as an explanation for powers? Fascinating. Found family for those who were either rejected or who just needed something their family couldn't give? Awesome. Being ashamed of being extraordinary in a world demanding conformity and ordinariness? Hell yes, sign me up.

One thing I will say for me is once I'm in, I'm in. I was now committed to X-men and all future movies and I would appreciate them no matter the reviews or the complaints of how it did or didn't match the comics. Which I still hadn't read.

But I had not expanded to Marvel at large. I watched at least one of the Tobey Maguire Spider-Man movies and liked it well enough, but it didn't grab me. It also seemed like superhero movies were all so male-dominated (except X-men, where it at least had smacked of a 30-70 split), so it didn't feel like it was FOR me.

Then Batman Begins came out.

Sit down geeky gatekeeper boy. I see you- yeah, I know you are about to "school" me about how that's DC and you've been talking about Marvel. I'm well aware of the difference- this post is about HOW I got INTO superhero movies (and leading up specifically to the MCU). And Batman was a part of that process, even if he is DC, mainly because Christopher Nolan's trilogy is fucking phenomenol.

Batman Begins, even more than X-men, sucked me into the superhero universe. The world it created felt real and therefore accessible to someone like me who hadn't experienced years of indoctrination into a universe littered with superheroes. I understood trauma and darkness and people doing bad things and the desire to stand up to all of that but not having any idea how to do battle with the world's demons at the same time you were fighting your own. I understood Bruce Wayne in all that and the film was just fucking good, regardless of previous interest. (Add in that my best friend in college was getting into film in general so I was watching A LOT of movies and ended up more interest in their storytelling than my friend in the long run.)

So superhero movies were now on my list of acceptable movies to spend money on at the theater. I also was now in college with a little bit of dispensable income and a movie theater within 10 minutes and/or friends at home that were down for a whole day out that ended with a late night at the drive-in. The latter of which is exactly where I first watched Iron Man, a movie about a superhero I didn't even know existed (I know, right?) with an actor I associated with Sherlock Holmes.

And into the MCU I dove.

I've unapologetically loved this universe ever since. I've read some of the comics now, and I've enjoyed them, but honestly my love remains with the movies and shows that are part of this canon. A love that only grew over the years and that still finds magic in the new directions the universe is taking.

But like most, I've missed things. There were movies I didn't and haven't seen, shows I didn't keep up with, and so on. So I'm doing this blog as sort of a "fun" resolution. I want to watch through the ENTIRE MCU- all the shows and movies (whether they are considered "canon" or not- like Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D). I've tried several times before but haven't done it.

So this year I've committed to Marvel-ous Mondays. Every Monday I will watch (or at least start) a Marvel Movie or 2 episodes of a Marvel show. I'm going in release order. (I was originally going to do Chronological order but all the timey-wimey ness (Gatekeeper boy I swear to Gaia I will have you forcibly removed, you know damn well David Tenet was in both universes and would approve that use) has made that order really complicated.) And then- I'll blog about what I watched and what it meant to me.

Will this have tons of insider geeky knowledge where I note all the little details they included? No, I likely don't know most of those.

Will this be an incredibly insightful film critique? Doubtful, I'm not a film studies scholar- I'm just someone who really likes movies and shows and books and storytelling. I'm an ardent amateur.

What this will be is one nerdy girl reflecting on the MCU and why certain movies and characters resonate with me and what I do and don't like and what I associate with each film that I've seen (and how I feel about the pieces that I haven't). And mostly, I'm hoping blogging about it will keep me going when my squirrel brain tries to run off in distraction.

If you feel like following along, welcome. I love you 3000.

[emmetrain]

@sensoryled (Friendship Questionnaire!! )

"Hi hi hi hi hi, Marcellus!!!!" Emmet signs, bouncing on his steps. "Blue is a great color! And I guessed you would like the Ice and Fairy types, but didn't know you liked Psychic-type as well!"

"Everyone loves the Ralts-line, apparently? We don't have them verrrry common here. I think you can only catch them in White Forest? It has been some time since I have been there though!" Emmet's excitement makes his signs a bit sloppy, but he is still pulling off. "I hope you will be a Pokemon professor one day! Can I get your permission to text you in the middle of the night to ask Pokemon-related questions if you become a professor???"

"I think this means I won't get kicked out of your house? No worries. I don't like cults. I also don't buy the gods and stuff. And.. I am sorry. If anyone gives you trouble, you can tell me and I will make sure their cards will get eaten by ATMs due to technical difficulties everytime for years."

"CLEFAIRIES ARE SO CUTE! I did not know about their ties to space? I skip every part except their stats and battle strategies when I get my hands on Pokedex or encyclopedias. I should quit that."

"We should go to an Alolan beach to make those jewelry!!! Please teach me how to do them!!! Also, I know a place near a beach that we can get nuggets from! It will be so much fun!!! Hang out with me, please!!!"

"Noted!!! And that's bare minimum, I think. I am going to show you how likable I am!! You will see!!!"

[homeequityloanbenefits]

What Are the Advantages and Disadvantages of a Home Equity Loan?

Getting a home equity loan is a good way to make a large purchase or to pay for home improvements. However, you need to know what you're getting into before you sign up for a loan. There are many advantages and disadvantages to these loans. The amount you can borrow depends on your income and the amount of equity in your home. In general, home equity loans have lower interest rates than other types of loans. Check out here to get additional reading about credit score.

If you use your home as collateral for a home equity loan, you may be able to qualify for a lower interest rate. Some lenders will offer you a fixed-rate option, while others will give you a variable rate. If you choose a variable rate, your payments will fluctuate based on market interest rates. If your credit is bad, you may be charged higher interest rates. In addition, if you stop making payments, you could lose your home.

If you have a home equity loan, you will be required to make fixed monthly payments. Those payments may include your current mortgage and other expenses. You can borrow up to 80% of the value of your home. Your monthly payments will also be based on your debt-to-income ratio, which is the number of debt payments you make compared to your income. This ratio is calculated by dividing your monthly income by the total amount of debt payments you make. If you have a low debt-to-income ratio, you may be able to qualify for the best possible interest rate. However, if your ratio is high, you may have less flexibility when it comes to paying off your debt.

Many borrowers use home equity loans for big purchases. This includes paying for college and remodeling their home. However, home equity loans can also be used for debt consolidation. These loans offer a lower interest rate and are easy to obtain. Follow here to get more info about loans for immigrants in Canada. They can help you pay off high-interest debt, and the interest can be tax deductible.

The interest on a home equity loan is also deductible. You can use the money to pay off your debt and use the remaining equity to help you accomplish your major life goals. For example, you may want to pay off your auto loan with a home equity loan. You can save on interest if you pay off the loan over a longer period. Also, using the money to pay off your debt will lower your monthly expenses.

Another benefit of a home equity loan is that it allows you to pay off high-interest debt. A home equity line of credit is similar to a credit card, except the interest rate is usually variable. These loans are available for up to 20 years and require you to make monthly payments.

The disadvantage of a home equity loan is that you may be charged high closing costs. Also, you cannot take out more than you need to meet an emergency. You may have to take out the loan if you don't have enough equity in your home to qualify for another loan. You may have to pay early payoff fees if you don't pay off the loan before the loan term expires. Find out more details in relation to this topic here: https://www.encyclopedia.com/finance/encyclopedias-almanacs-transcripts-and-maps/home-equity-loan.

[burningenthusiastfan]

Cellular Phone & Smartphones

Mobile devices such as instances as well as covers, mobile chargers, USB cable televisions and also adapters, mobile anti-virus, and selfie sticks not just shield your smart phones but likewise come helpful in instance of an emergency situation. Offered to qualified customers and also needs 24‑month installation funding when you select People One or Apple Card Regular monthly Installations as payment type at checkout at Apple. Apple iphone activation needed with AT&T, T‑Mobile, Sprint, or Verizon for acquisitions made with ACMI at an Apple Shop. Taxes and also shipping are not included in ACMI and undergo your card's variable APR . Added Apple Card Regular monthly Installments terms are in the Client Agreement. ACMI is not available for acquisitions made online at special storefronts.

Illinois came to be the 17th American state to impose this law. As of July 2010, 30 states had actually outlawed texting while driving, with Kentucky coming to be one of the most current enhancement on 15 July. The first handheld cellular cellphone was demonstrated by John F. Mitchell and Martin Cooper of Motorola in 1973, using a handset evaluating 2 kilograms (4.4 pound).

Which Iphone Is Right For You?

Or if you desire an extra personal music experience you can likewise get a set of headphones to make use of throughout your day along with other cell phone devices. Dropped by this cell phone accessory as well as repair service store as well as pick up a brand-new personal songs gamer. The shop markets the renowned clip-on shuffle player best for jogging or exercising.

Mobile phones reveal you time, day, compute numbers, wake you up when you desire them to, advise you of something crucial, and also find area with the GPS navigation.

The team provides a lifetime guarantee and makes use of OEM components in their replacement solutions.

Equal to a stick of memory in a computer system, you can run several applications at the exact same time without stuttering.

All on-line orders break out, following service day shipping.

For details on 5G and LTE support, call your provider and see apple.com/iphone/cellular. " A best place to locate budget-friendly and budget-friendly smart devices and also fundamental mobile phone." Such phones are authorized for usage by important workers, such as wellness, safety and security, and civil service employees.

By Mobile Phone Driver

You can choose a repayment alternative that helps you, pay less with a trade‑in, connect your brand-new apple iphone to your provider, and ready up promptly. Thinking about that, going to a pre paid cordless carrier to buy a brand-new phone may be the means to go. If you make a decision to get a brand-new iPhone on launch day, Apple's stores have one of the most supply and are one of the most likely to have the system you want. Add that to an exceptional online shop that ships rapidly and also cheaply, as well as Apple is to choose if you're group apple iphone. " attribute phone Definition from computer Magazine Encyclopedia".

Cricket has a range of mobile phone strategies to fit any type of way of life, so you can select a cell phone plan that's just right. Here are some benefits of switching over to Cricket Wireless. Trade-in values will vary based on the condition, year, as well as arrangement of your eligible trade-in tool. You need to go to the very least 18 years old to be eligible to sell for credit report or for an Apple Gift Card. Trade-in value may be used towards certifying brand-new device purchase, or included in an Apple Gift Card.

Asman Cellular Phones

For your mobile phone, you can take into consideration obtaining Extended Warranty, Spills & Decline, Screen Protection, Device Secure and Device Secure Gold, as well as As needed Repair services. A portable mobile radio telephone service was envisioned in the beginning of radio engineering. In 1917, Finnish developer Eric Tigerstedt filed a license for a "pocket-size folding telephone with an extremely slim carbon microphone". Early precursors of mobile phones consisted of analog radio communications from ships and also trains. The race to develop truly portable telephone devices began after World War II, with advancements taking place in many countries.

In 1983, the DynaTAC 8000x was the very first readily readily available portable smart phone. Low-end smart phones are commonly described as feature phones and supply basic telephone systems. Mobile phones with advanced computer ability through making use of native software applications are known as smart devices. Are you trying to find a smart device that uses great value for money?