#I just...Roach whose love language is food

[fixfoxnox]

Thinking about Roach whose love language is food. Baby boy was raised with an overprotective mother who wouldn't let him leave the table until he had at least two plates of food. Raised with one of those Southern grandparents who makes him all sorts of foods when he comes over and sends him home with two pans of cinnamon rolls for the whole family. Raised with a love and appreciation for food and the love that can be shown and given through food.

So food is part of his love language. Roach joins the 141 and immediately he can tell that these guys don't eat enough. They all look strong as hell, they all are strong as hell, but he notices how little they actually eat.

He notices Price skipping meals in order to try to get more paperwork done. He notices the aversion that Ghost has to most of the foods the cafeteria serves, and how little he eats because of it. He notices the way that Gaz gets so busy and focused that he just forgets to feed himself. He notices the way that Soap tries to avoid eating as much as possible and, when he does, that he's monitoring every bit of what goes into his system. He notices the bad relationship that the rest of the 141 has with food, and he says absolutely not.

So Roach starts slowly working them up with meals. He starts bringing lunch to Price's office. He buys little containers for it that look like the ones from the cafeteria and he makes a good sized meal and he starts bringing them to Price around lunch and dinner. He makes them all meals that can easily be eaten while working on something else. Easily eaten and little mess. He notices the healthy weight that his captain puts on with absolute delight.

He starts taking notes of what foods Ghost will and won't eat, what flavors and textures he hates and which flavors and textures he likes. He pieces it together through watching Ghost in the cafeteria, offering him different foods, and just straight out asking him in some cases. Eventually he has a full list and he starts making Ghost meals with only textures and flavors he likes. He puts them in the little cafeteria boxes with care, making sure there is no chance that the foods will touch or mix together. With the foods that Roach is giving "from the cafeteria", Ghost starts eating more and Roach notices how much happier he seems.

He begins a little ritual of finding Gaz and asking him to join him during meals. Gaz forgets, so Roach reminds him. If Gaz says "yeah I'll come in a minute" or anything similar to brush Roach off, Roach will simply wait for him. His presence is able to get Gaz to finally leave whatever he's doing and go to eat. They start a routine of taking their meals together and Roach watches with nothing short of pride as Gaz devours his breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

Roach starts small with Soap. He has to. Its healthy deserts and sweets and healthy big meals. He tells Soap what's in them and watches with dissatisfaction as his friend monitors everything that he eats, making sure he's well beneath his calories for the day. Slowly, Roach starts asking him to try things he's made. Just a bite. Just a bite of a brownie won't hurt. Just a bit of a cookie. And every time that Soap does, Roach praises him.

Roach makes sure to give praise any time Soap eats something without monitoring his calories, without counting. Any time Soap brings it up during meals, Roach distracts him. He asks him some question about the explosives he'd been working with. When Soap gains weight, Roach compliments him. Roach tells him how pretty he is. He tells him how beautiful he looks.

He takes Soap out for ice cream, for dinner, for any treat he can think of and they eat it together. They split things and Roach always makes sure to get "full" before he's finished his half. He always makes sure that Soap just isn't thinking about the fact that he's eating.

And it works. Bites of brownies go to the full thing, half meals go to full meals, occasional treats turn into common treats. And Roach compliments Soap through it all. He builds up his confidence, he makes sure that the other man isn't scared of gaining weight. He makes sure that Soap knows that he's quite possibly the prettiest man that Roach has ever seen in his life. And when Soap is no longer worried about what he's eating, when Soap is finally enjoying his food, when Soap has a better relationship with food, Roach doesn't think he's ever felt so happy in his life.

Roach's whose love language is food. Roach who refuses to let the people he cares about continue to starve themselves. Roach who slowly works to improve the 141's relationship with food. 💙

[innaminitus]

To meet you again

Pairing: Geralt x reader

Request:  Hey! May I request Geralt x reader? Maybe where the reader is a commoner in the kingdom, and while Geralt is there to kill a monster, him and the reader keep crossing paths? But get this: the reader is extremely clumsy and every time they cross paths it’s because of the reader tripping, or running into him, etc ya know? It gets to the point where Geralt starts making small offhand comments about her clumsiness and she shows that she’s actually pretty damn feisty. I’m so excited! Thank you hun! (from @badass-dora-milaje​)

and

Hello there. I read your beautiful lake story and just fell in love with your writing style. So I'd like to request a story if I may: Geralt & reader meet up time and time again. She somehow always helps him out (calms a mob, heals his wounds, gives the missing coin he needs) and she's always kind to him. There may be underlying tension between the two, but she doesn't act on it. There is a change in their dynamics though when she endangers her life while trying to help him again and anger and worry finally make him react, pushing her against a wall and showing her how much he truly cares. Now I'd like to leave it up to you if the smut is passionate and either sweet or more angry. I hope this is okay as a request? Thanks so much for sharing your work and doing this! Regards V (from @superconfusedandreadytorumble​)

Warnings: smut, language, angst

Word count: 3034

A/N: I didn’t proffread it because i’m a lazy ass 

You were… just a nobody, really. Just a clumsy girl, who happened to have just enough healing abilities to help with cuts and burns in the town.

Somehow he always crossed paths with you.

You were picking up the herbs in the forest, finally unbothered. It was the beginning of spring, and the door to your house almost never closed. People were storming you with colds and allergies, sometimes knocking on your door at night. Mothers were… overprotective, bothering you when their sons barely sneezed. In the forest you could finally rest, breathe fresh air and be alone for a change. No one walked that deep into the forest, afraid they might meet leshy and his monsters; you’ve never met him, though and doubted he actually lived in the forest.

That is, until you heard sounds of a fight. Frozen in place, you were too afraid to move. A cry of a beast mixed with hoarse screams and clings of steel, followed by sudden silence. Someone, or something moved for the last time and hit the ground. You waited for any sign that, whoever it was, was still alive.

“Ahh… Fuck.”

Well, that almost definitely was a sound of being alive.

You rushed in the direction of the voice, whose owner, thankfully wasn’t far. A man was on the ground, leaning on the tree, pressing his hand on his thigh. In front of him lied a beast, its horny head detached from its body, slimy blood spilled all over the clearing. Your stomach flew to your throat, but you managed not to vomit at the sight. One deep breath and you looked back at the man. He was bleeding as well, but the difference between him and leshy was that he was still alive.

You walked to him slowly, he turned to you when you stepped on a twig.

“Who are you?” He asked in between sharp breaths. His hair was white and his eyes were oddly yellow.

“A healer. I can help you.” You kneeled next to him and looked at the wound on his thigh. It was deep, and he was losing a lot of blood. You pulled at the hem of your dress and ripped a long stripe, then tied it firmly above the wound. “Come, you need to get up. My home is not far away.”

You held him while he clumsily got up, and supported him while you walked out of the forest.

“So what’s your name, healer?”

“Y/N. And yours?”

“Geralt.”

That was the first time you’ve met Geralt. You healed his wound and said goodbye, believing it was the last time you’d see the white-haired man.

How foolish of you.

He passed your village multiple times, since beasts seemed to adore the forests and swamps surrounding it, and soon the Witcher was a frequent guest in town.

You were reading a book. It wasn’t your fault that you didn’t see him, it was the fault of the heroine in the story, who was making the worst decision of her life.

It wasn’t a pretty picture, really. Geralt was talking to someone, and you just didn’t bother to look above your book. You smashed onto him, hitting him with the book, and hurting your nose badly on his broad back.

“Ouch…”

“What the hell are you doing?” He turned angrily, but his presence softened once he saw you. Not for long, as it seemed, since he started laughing at your miserable form, holding your nose with your palms and tears building in your eyes. He picked up the book you dropped. “I think that’s yours.”

That was the second time. You’ve had pleasant conversation with him, and discovered he also liked books, but haven’t had the time to read them anymore. Turned out he’s not just a pile of muscles and a nice voice.

Finally a day without a single patient. You could spend all calm day on the market, and unbothered buy food. Maybe you’d buy yourself a little treat, maybe a piece or two of peach pie…

You were buying apples when you heard a horse nearby. You smiled softly at Roach tied to a feeder near the inn and walked to her.

“Hello, Roach.” You caressed her head gently. She bumped your basket, full of fresh food. You fed her an apple. “And where’s your owner, huh?”

Suddenly you heard a loud noise in the inn and the door swung open.

“Witch– Witcher!” Geralt stormed out of the inn, the publican right behind him. You didn’t fail to notice how good the Witcher looked, his hair a mess and unbuttoned shirt. “Pay or I’ll swear my boys will kill you in your sleep.”

“You dare to threaten me?” Geralt turned back and faced the publican, who somehow got smaller under his burning sight.

“Geralt,” you called him, stepping closer and placing a hand on his shoulder. “What’s the problem?”

“He haven’t paid for his stay!” The publican shouted.

“I said I’ll pay later!”

“I don’t believe ya Witchers! One day you fuck a whore in my inn, the next day ya dead! And I am left with no money!”

“I’ll pay for him.” You gave the men a few coins.

“That’s not enough!”

“Well, remember about it the next time you drag your pregnant daughter to my house demanding an abortion. And I’ll maybe remember to not tell anyone about it.”

He reddened and, murmuring something under his nose, went back to the inn.

“Abortion?” Geralt raised an eyebrow.

“He has five daughters, and each one is rather frivolous.”

He untied Roach and turned to you.

“Thank you. I’ll repay you, I promise.”

“I know.” You shrugged. “But maybe next time you’re here, stay at my place.”

You tried not to show how many sinful thoughts flew through your head.

He stayed a few times, arriving at the evenings and leaving early in the morning. Unspoken tension between you was enough to keep him away. It wasn’t that you were disappointed, only you were… a little disappointed.

Snow was falling into your eyes as you were trying to make your way back home. You treated a boy with fever, not sure if he would survive the night. The cold was merciless, piercing you through, and you forgot your cloak when you run out to save the boy. Only a thick sweater was protecting you from wind and snow. You cursed your stupidity, dreaming of warm fireplace waiting for you. There was one more thing keeping you warm, but you didn’t really want to admit it to yourself. You just couldn’t help it that his eyes reminded you of the sun.

You stepped onto frozen mud, your poor excuse for shoes not protecting you from sliding all across the puddle. With a squirm you tripped on ice, and waved your hands, trying to catch stability, inefficaciously, only making your situation worse. You were sure to hit the ground, but someone’s warm arm wrapped around you, protecting you from it.

“Geralt,” you gasped, still hanging above the ground.

“Hello, Y/N,” he laughed and pulled you up.

Only this time it was different.

You just… had a feeling. A feeling that you should be out, even though it was night. You wandered around the town, this weird feeling in your guts not allowing you to rest. Your intuition was strong, due to your grandmother being a minor witch, and almost never let you down. It was an unsettling thought, piercing you through, that something bad was going to happen.

You didn’t notice that you left the town and mindlessly walked to the forest. Cold air soothed your burning cheeks and scent of wet grass hit your nostrils. You knew you wouldn’t get lost in this forest, you knew it better than you knew yourself, so you walked deeper, letting your intuition guide you.

Everything was oddly silent. No birds singing, not even the bugs working their way through the bushes. You could barely see in the darkness, but you didn’t need a good sight to feel the blood hanging in the air.

One, two, three vampires, and between them the whitehaired Witcher. You watched the scene with parted lips, as they hypnotized him, one already sucking blood out of Geralt.

You had to help him. A silver knife shone in the moonlight when you took it out of your pocket, glad you took it with yourself. You pressed the blade on your arm and with a deep breath cut the skin deeply, not allowing yourself to whine in pain.

“Blood.” One of the vampires shot his head up.

“Blood.”

“Blood.”

“Human.”

You kept squeezing your fist to pump more blood out of the wound.

“Hey, assholes,” you shouted. “How about a dessert?”

Two of them left Geralt and run to you with awful screams, and it was enough for the Witcher to free himself from their power. You didn’t see him killing the vampire still sucking his blood, the two beasts already knocked you down, their cold, dead lips locked on your neck.

A groan was the last thing you heard before you passed out.

The ground was shaking when you woke up. You were flying, you were sure of it. Was this how death felt?

Your eyelids felt awfully heavy when you opened your eyes, the stars were shining on the dark sky. You moved your head. You weren’t dead. You were still in the forest, in someone’s arms.

“Geralt…” Your throat was sore, you were barely able to make a sound.

His jaw was clenched when you looked at him.

“You are… Stupid. Irresponsible. Do you even understand how big of a danger that was?” His voice was shaking from anger, but he tried not to shout.

You moved in his arms.

“Did you kill them?” He nodded. “Geralt, we have to go back.” You tried to fall on the ground, but he was holding you too tight. “Geralt, we need to bury them, their heads apart from their bodies, with iron nails in their skulls… And sprinkle poppy seeds–“

“I did it.”

“What’s with the poppy seeds, though?” You were taking without any sense. “Like… I know they’re supposed to obsessively count them, but do they really do it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you mad at me? Don’t be mad at me, please.” You lifted your hand to touch, but it felt weightless. You had no feeling in your limbs, but you could move them. It must’ve been because of the loss of blood.

“Yes, I am mad at you. You should never put your life in danger, not for me, not for anyone else.”

“I wanted to help you.”

“You shouldn’t have. I was dealing with them perfectly fine without you.”

“No, you weren’t,” you snorted. “They were killing you, you needed my help.”

He stopped. You didn’t notice that you already left the forest and were standing in front of your house. He gently placed you on the ground, making sure you wouldn’t trip. Your head was dizzy, but you were able to open the door and walk inside. Familiar scent of candles and herbs soothed you.

“It would be much better if they killed me instead of hurting you,” you said, your back turned to him, as you lit the candles.

He held your arm, and pushed you against the nearby wall.

“No,” he said in a hoarse voice, anger glistening in his amber eyes. “Stop saying such stupid things.”

“Stop telling me I’m stupid!” You were over it. You helped him, and that’s how he thanks?

“How can I, if you obviously are?!”

“You shouldn’t save me then, leaving me as a meal would eliminate me from your life just fine!”

“You must have no idea what you’re saying.” His hands were clenched on your shoulders just like his jaw was clenched when he was talking to you with such anger.

“Enlighten me, then!”

It took him a split second to press his lips onto yours, and to melt you completely.

“Is that clear enough?” He asked in a husky voice, his face millimeters from yours.

“Not– Not really. You’d have to repeat that.”

Only you didn’t give him any time to repeat it, because you threw your arms over his neck and kissed him hurriedly, leaning on him, almost knocking him down. He smiled during the kiss, deepening it, his tongue slid into your mouth, inviting yours to play.

Within a second you forgot about everything, about the vampires, about how bad you felt after the attack. He was more than enough to make you forget.

He lifted you up, and bumped on a closet on the way to your bedroom, making you laugh, quickly silencing you with his tongue. Soon you felt cold sheets under your back, and Geralt’s fingers untying the ribbons of your dress. He slid the material down your shoulders, kissing every inch of the skin that was exposed to him.

He kissed your collarbone, lick the hollow underneath it, his tongue swiped down, to the delicate skin of your breasts and suddenly you weren’t in the mood for laughing. You sighed when he softly tugged the side of your breast, pulling the dress down, exposing your hardened nipples. With a silent groan he closed his warm mouth around one nipple, caressing it with the tip of his tongue. The other one he rolled in his fingers, releasing a moan from you, and you felt him smile at that sound. His big hands kneaded your breasts as he kissed the valley of them before sliding your dress even lower.

His lips never left your body as he made his way down, gently biting your waist, leaving a mark. By the time he got to your hips the heat between your legs was noticeable, just as how wet you were for him. He kissed one hipbone, then another, and ignoring your womanhood kept kissing until he reached your knee, and then, and only then he made his way up. In most torturous of ways he licked the skin of your inner thigh, left hot kisses above the wet trail and finally, after almost driving you crazy, reached your heat.

He didn’t plan to work his way fast. Oh no, he planned to feast on you.

He kissed your folds, yet that was enough to make you squirm. He stuck out his tongue and with just the tip licked a stripe through them, parting them for his warm lips.

“Mm,” he groaned against you “so wet already, and I haven’t even started properly.”

His deep voice was giving you goosebumps, but it was his tongue that made you grab his hair. He flattened it on your pussy, rubbing your clit and forcing a moan out of you. His hands massaged your thighs, but one of it slid to your folds, to the aching clit while he pushed his tongue into you. You arched your back as he worked you this way, his tongue in and out of you, his skilled fingers rubbing vicious circles on your clit.

“Fuck… Geralt, please, don’t stop,” you moaned time after time as he mercilessly drove you to the edge of sanity, forcing an orgasm out of you.

You were shaking as you came on his face, whispering pleads and his name, pleasure holding your throat tight enough for you to not scream. You mindlessly held his head pressed onto you, spasms of ecstasy making you come yet again around his tongue.

He pulled away, his wet mouth and chin glistened in the light of candles as he ripped his clothes and hovered over you. You kissed him, your taste spilled in your mouth as his tongue was dancing with yours.

You felt his hot shaft on your stomach, how it dripped on your skin, making you hungry for more, more of his body, more of his lips. He bucked his hips, caressing your overstimulated clit with his tip, collecting your slick. He slid into you easily, you caught his gasp in your mouth.

“So fucking tight,”  he whispered on your neck. “So marvelously tight…”

He pulled out only to push back in, and you were lost yet again, only now it was Geralt as well who lost control. As you expected, he wasn’t the one to be gentle.

He rammed into you like a wild animal, sounds of moans and wet bodies smacking filled the room and your ears. You reached above your head to hold the frame of the bed, but he had other plans. With sadistic smile he grabbed your wrists with one hand and held them still as his other hand held firmly your hip, sure to leave bruises. All you could do was to wrap your legs around him to make him reach deeper, and moan when he buried himself balls deep into you.

His thrusts were fast and violent, his eyes travelled from your waving breasts to your parted lips, as you begged for more, for him to never stop.

“Gods– You fill me so fucking good–“ You squirmed as your whole body moved to his pace.

“That’s right,” he groaned, leaning over you as your muscles clenched hard on his length. “I want you to come all over my cock.”

You would never deny that order. A heat wave hit you hard, overtaking your body in its silky arms, as pleasure spilled all over your mind just as Geralt’s cum spilled deep inside your pussy. Your legs were shaking when you rode down your orgasm with his gasps near your ear.

He fell on the bed next to you, panting.

“So… So you care for me. If I got the message right,” you said in between heavy breaths and looked at him.

“Pretty much, yes.”

He also looked at you before you both laughed. He pulled you to a soft kiss before closing you in his warm arms. There was nothing that could disturb that night. Not when you felt so warm, so safe next to him.

You placed your head on his chest and soon the sleep surrounded you like a fog. And you dreamed, dreamed about amber eyes and clear blue skies.

 ___

tag lists:

💞: @taylorswiftloverforever13 @thomasfoockinshelby @kaylig02@daddyloki @it-jinxed-us @themusingsofmany @randomlea @annakohanasworld @theunofficialduke @prismroot-starlight0@deathofmissjackson@tricksterwinchester @villanellevi @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @forgoshsake-watchyourlanguage @grace-barnes-13 @starofthedawn @superconfusedandreadytorumble @glimmerlove9

💖 - @omg-so-many-fandoms @iwannaendme

🖤 - @winterpoohbear

[plasticbullet]

BET YOU WON'T ANSWER THEM ALL

1: Full name

I've gotten creepy messages on here so I'm gonna keep that private lol

2: Age

27

3: 3 Fears

Abandonment, driving by semi-trucks, bugs

4: 3 things I love

Music, coffee, nature

5: 4 turn ons

Sense of humor, intelligence, height, big hands.. happy trails are sexy

6: 4 turn offs

If they're rude, judgy, closed-minded, or act fake

7: My best friend

Tammy

8: Sexual orientation

Straight

9: My best first date

I have no idea honestly. First dates are always weird

10: How tall am I

5′5″

11: What do I miss

Not having anxiety, traveling, when my boobs were bigger

12: What time was I born

11:30 pm

13: Favourite color

Yellow, green, blue

14: Do I have a crush

It’s more than a crush, but yes

15: Favourite quote

"This is cracking me out" - my kid

16: Favourite place

The forest, Havasupai, California

17: Favourite food

Just about anything Italian. Or with a lot of cheese

18: Do I use sarcasm

Pretty often

19: What am I listening to right now

Wind blowing through the window. It’s like 65 degrees here I love it

20: First thing I notice in a new person

If they seem nice or not

21: Shoe size

7 or 7.5 depending on the shoes

22: Eye color

Blue

23: Hair color

Reddish dark blonde

24: Favourite style of clothing

Grungy but hot

25: Ever done a prank call? Yes

27: Meaning behind my URL

I’ve answered this a couple times before, I’m too lazy

28: Favourite movie

Peanut Butter Falcon

29: Favourite song

All the ones that make me feel things the most

30: Favourite band

A Day to Remember, Brand New

31: How I feel right now

Relaxed

32: Someone I love

My son

33: My current relationship status

In something

34: My relationship with my parents

They’re cool

35: Favourite holiday

Christmas

36: Tattoos and piercing I have

Treble clef on the back of my neck, pierced ears

37: Tattoos and piercing I want

I’m good for now! Maybe more one day

38: The reason I joined Tumblr

I don’t even know, I’ve used this shit off and on since I was 16

39: Do I and my last ex hate each other? Nope!

40: Do I ever get “good morning” or “good night ” texts? Yep

41: Have you ever kissed the last person you texted?

Nope

42: When did I last hold hands?

Held hands with my son today

43: How long does it take me to get ready in the morning? Like 20 minutes

44: Have you shaved your legs in the past three days? Yes

45: Where am I right now? In my room

46: If I were drunk & can’t stand, who’s taking care of me?

Probably one of my friends lol

47: Do I like my music loud or at a reasonable level?

Loud unless I’m sleepyy

48: Do I live with my Mom and Dad? No

49: Am I excited for anything? 🎄🎄🎄

50: Do I have someone of the opposite sex I can tell everything to?

Yepp I think so

51: How often do I wear a fake smile?

Sometimes if I don't want my kid to sense my stress. Or during boring conversations

52: When was the last time I hugged someone?

Today

53: What if the last person I kissed was kissing someone else right in front of me?

🤷🤷🤷

54: Is there anyone I trust even though I should not?

I don’t think so

55: What is something I disliked about today?

I was super sleepy, slept until some stressy dreams woke me up, and can't go back to sleep 🙃

56: If I could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?

That guy from My Octopus Teacher

57: What do I think about most?

People I love, things I have to do, and the randomest shit imaginable

58: What’s my strangest talent?

I barely have any normal talents

59: Do I have any strange phobias? No

60: Do I prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it? Behind it unless I feel cute

61: What was the last lie I told?

Something about Santa to my kid

62: Do I prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online? Depends!

63: Do I believe in ghosts? How about aliens?

I feel like ghosts are possible, our energy could keep existing in some ways after our body dies who knows. Aliens exist for sure. Just not anywhere near our planet imo

64: Do I believe in magic? No

65: Do I believe in luck? I believe in good karma

66: What’s the weather like right now?

Kinda chilly/breezy but nice

67: What was the last book I’ve read?

Read Fox in Socks to my kid

68: Do I like the smell of gasoline? No

69: Do I have any nicknames? Kind of

70: What was the worst injury I’ve ever had?

One time a horse stepped on my foot and it was bruised for months lol

71: Do I spend money or save it? Both

72: Can I touch my nose with my tongue?

Noo! I just tried though hahah

73: Is there anything pink 10 feet from me?

A crayon

74: Favourite animal? Sloths but I love all animals

75: What was I doing last night at 12 AM?

Sleeping surprisingly

76: What do I think is Satan’s last name is?

I can't think of anyone I hate enough to make a good joke out of this

77: What’s a song that always makes me happy when I hear it?

Colorado Symphony version of The Stable Song by Gregory Alan Isakov

78: How can you win my heart?

Good conversations, make me laugh, show me you care, show me good music, etc

79: What would I want to be written on my tombstone?

Nice things, I don't know lol

80: What is my favorite word? Fuck

81: My top 5 blogs on tumblr

I ♥️ all the ones I follow

82: If the whole world were listening to me right now, what would I say?

Realistically I would have a panic attack and say something stupid 😂

83: Do I have any relatives in jail? Not that I know of!

84: I accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow me with the super-power of my choice! What is that power?

Maybe the power to pause time so I could sleep or do whatever for however long I want without wasting any time. Or maybe the ability to teleport

85: What would be a question I’d be afraid to tell the truth on? Idk I can't think of one

86: What is my current desktop picture?

It’s the default one, I don’t go on it very often lol

87: Had sex? Yes

88: Bought condoms? No the guys always did that

89: Gotten pregnant? Yes

90: Failed a class? No

91: Kissed a boy? Yes

92: Kissed a girl? Yes

93: Have I ever kissed somebody in the rain? Yes

94: Had a job? Yes

95: Left the house without my wallet?

Yepp I used to forget it all the time

96: Bullied someone on the internet?

No I'm not a pussy ass bitch

97: Had sex in public?

If you count in a parked car, yes

98: Played on a sports team? Yes

99: Smoked weed? Yes

100: Did drugs? A while ago

101: Smoked cigarettes? Yes, quit a while ago

102: Drank alcohol? Yes

103: Am I a vegetarian/vegan?

Nope! I tried one time just for fucks and it did not last long

104: Been overweight? No

105: Been underweight? Yes

106: Been to a wedding? Yes

107: Been on the computer for 5 hours straight? Yes

108: Watched TV for 5 hours straight?

Yes. Marathons and binge sessions

109: Been outside my home country? Yes, Mexico

110: Gotten my heart broken? Yes

111: Been to a professional sports game? Yes

112: Broken a bone? Nope

113: Cut myself? Yes

114: Been to prom? Yes

115: Been in an airplane? Lots of times

116: Fly by helicopter? No

117: What concerts have I been to?

Oh fuck I know I’ll leave some out. Kelly Clarkson (don’t judge me I was 12), All Time Low, Avenged Sevenfold, Papa Roach, Blink-182, Fall Out Boy, Flogging Molly, Jason Mraz, Ed Sheeran, Atreyu, Escape the Fate, went to Warped Tour a couple times in high school so a bunch more emo bands

118: Had a crush on someone of the same sex? No

119: Learned another language?

A decent amount of Spanish

120: Wore make up? Frequently

121: Lost my virginity before I was 18? Yes

122: Had oral sex? Yes

123: Dyed my hair? Yes

124: Voted in a presidential election? Yes

125: Rode in an ambulance? No those are expensive

126: Had a surgery?

Does getting my wisdom teeth removed count

127: Met someone famous?

Saw Alice Cooper at a Cheesecake Factory one time

128: Stalked someone on a social network?

Not stalked, more like checked up on lol

129: Peed outside? On camping trips

130: Been fishing? Yes

131: Helped with charity? Yes

132: Been rejected by a crush? Probably!

133: Broken a mirror? No

134: What do I want for my birthday?

Christmas is coming first idk

135: How many kids do I want and what will be their names?

I have one kid whose name I won’t be posting publicly, annnd I’m open to having another kid sometime in the future but not set on it. No names in mind for that lol

136: Was I named after anyone?

My parents are Catholic so they named me after St. Kieran

137: Do I like my handwriting? It’s alright idk

138: What was my favourite toy as a child?

I liked my toy horses and barbies the most probably

139: Favourite TV Show?

Idk I have lots of favorites. I've probably rewatched The Office the most out of all of them tho

140: Where do I want to live when older?

Somewhere chill, surrounded by lots of nature. Arizona doesn’t have much of that lol

141: Play any musical instrument?

I can play the piano but it’s been a while

142: One of my scars, how did I get it?

One on my knee from a car accident

143: Favourite pizza topping?

I love onions on my pizzaaaa

144: Am I afraid of the dark?

No, unless I watched a scary movie or something

145: Am I afraid of heights? No

146: Have I ever got caught sneaking out or doing anything bad?

Got caught sneaking out when I was 15. Countless other things I can’t remember

147: Have I ever tried my hardest and then gotten disappointed in the end? Yep!

148: What I’m really bad at

Doing things on time, paying attention when I’m not interested in something

149: What my greatest achievements are

Having an amazing kid, got first prize in the science fair in 6th grade for gluing a fucking key finder mechanism to the back of a shoe charm (shoe finder), was on time to something once

150: The meanest thing somebody has ever said to me

Idkkk

151: What I’d do if I won in a lottery

Give a lot of it to some family, save a lot of it, get a new house, set aside a savings for my kid, buy a sloth or something

152: What do I like about myself

Fuck I don't know, I try my best hahah

153: My closest Tumblr friend

@spencerwithac

154: Something I fantasize about

Sex in public

155: Any question you’d like?

Nope this was plenty thank you

[biofunmy]

At ‘Black Woodstock,’ an All-Star Lineup Delivered Joy and Renewal to 300,000

Woodstock was big and messy, thrilling and stirring — and summed up finally by Jimi Hendrix, whose festival-closing set included his towering, take-a-knee reading of the national anthem. It was an admixture of disaffection and patriotism, bold as love and black as hell. But Hendrix was one of the few black musicians at an event that has become a cultural touchstone for white America.

A hundred miles to the south of that sprawling rural rock ’n’ roll assembly, black folks were building their own musical commons. The Harlem Cultural Festival of that year, which would come to be known as “Black Woodstock,” had, on its surface, little in common with the upstate hootenanny. Held in Harlem at Mount Morris (what is now Marcus Garvey) Park, it was a self-consciously urban affair, a concert series rather than a one-off, and already in its third year. Co-sponsored by the New York City Parks Department and Maxwell House, the General Foods subsidiary, that year’s festival consisted of six free Sunday afternoon concerts held between June 29 and August 24. The total attendance was some 300,000 people strong.

With the Caribbean singer Tony Lawrence at its helm, the festival was a sustained, communal activity and cultural interaction where enterprising street vendors got what The New York Times referred to as their “legitimate hustle” on. A vibrant cross-section of city folk — brothers in dashikis (like Jesse Jackson, who spoke at one of the concerts), young sisters in smart shifts and older ones in church hats, men in fedoras and well-pressed, button-up shirts — all listened with a combination of focus and ease.

“The scale and the diversity of the audience” was a thing to behold, says Neal Ludevig, the curator and co-producer of this year’s 50th anniversary “Black Woodstock” event.

Iterations of the Harlem Cultural Festival were held in 1967 and 1968, but the 1969 events were the apex. Atop the rocks and down in the grassy field, they were showing up to watch a roll call of black popular music luminaries move through tight sets covering beloved repertoires. This was Harlem’s sonic playground, and it featured the likes of the gospel crossover sensation Edwin Hawkins, the blues icon B.B. King, the avant-garde jazz activists Abbey Lincoln and Max Roach, the South African trumpeter Hugh Masekela, the groovy black pop ambassadors The 5th Dimension, the Motown up-and-comers Gladys Knight and the Pips and the youthful Stevie Wonder. The comic vets Moms Mabley and Pigmeat Markham supplied the standup relief. And the crowds responded — looking on reverentially, dancing with one another around the edges of the park.

Photos from The Times’s archive capture the reverberations of an event that was a casual thing of beauty, where black folks moved en masse through the streets and into the park, improvisationally responding to one another, forming circles of joy and conviviality and reveling in outdoor leisure.

One shot from the 1967 festival stands out for its crispness and arresting power. It features a girl — donning high summertime attire, a sleeveless top and shorts, hair braided to the back — hugging the railing to the stage, leaning in — looking. She’s watching something before her. Someone is holding her attention, maybe dazzling her imagination.

Excerpts from the TV producer Hal Tulchin’s 40 hours of footage of the 1969 festival (which remain largely unseen) show a reverential crowd, keeping time with Nina Simone, the “High Priestess of Soul,” as she opened her four-song set on Aug. 17 with a new single, “Revolution.” It was a country-meets-Tin Pan Alley protest jam informing white folks that “The only way that we can stand in fact/Is when you get your foot off our back” — bluntly capturing the sentiment of the moment. (Simone closed out her performance by reading the fiery poem “Are You Ready, Black People?” The Last Poets’ David Nelson’s spoken-word call-to-action, asking of the crowd, “Are you ready to smash white things, to burn buildings?”)

Tensions had been running high in the city from spring into summer as the first anniversary of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s assassination passed and 21 Black Panthers were indicted on charges of planning a bombing campaign across Manhattan to mark the occasion. The police even refused to provide security for the event, and the Panthers stepped in to fill the void.

The people showed up to a concert experience that thrived amid grief and persistent rage. Backed by a reform-minded Mayor John Lindsay, who’d built avenues of trust in Harlem by walking its streets on more than one occasion, the festival stood as a symbol of hope and everyday placemaking. Lindsay’s belief that “We can lick the problems of the ghetto, if we care,” morphed into the concert poster’s slogan, “Do you care?” Lindsay was introduced as “the blue-eyed soul brother, ” and the gospel great Mahalia Jackson — who would join the newly solo vocal powerhouse Mavis Staples for a duet — spoke confidently of his impending victory.

Those who turned out in Harlem bucked the malicious stereotype of “the black mob.” They gathered peacefully with no incident — conjuring an energy akin to that of their Bethel, N.Y., hippie brethren — open and ready to ride the wave of a local black sound utopia. They were the living embodiment of Sly and the Family Stone’s “everyday people.” From 1972’s Wattstax in Los Angeles to 1973’s Soul at the Center events at Lincoln Center, from Diana Ross’s heroic 1983 rain-soaked performance in Central Park to Dave Chappelle’s 2004 rousing neo-soul-fights-neoliberal-gentrification Block Party, the idea of the large-scale African-American pop concert as community revival, sustenance, triumph and renewal is a recurring phenomenon.

The Harlem Cultural Festival was arguably one of the first of its kind to promote black pop as transformative urban event, as a site to be inhabited as well as a sound to be experienced, and the key to new neighborhood connections and collaborations. Observes Ludevig, there remains the “irreplaceable notion that you cannot replace the live experience … there’s something about being in a space and experiencing it firsthand …” that is utterly singular and potentially restorative in the life of a community. For black folks, the added power and energy of coming together in a place where one could not only see, hear and feel blackness onstage but also participate in a marketplace of neighborhood business owners was its own form of sustainability.

Such a legacy lives on most notably in today’s venerable and beloved Afropunk festival. Now a global phenomenon in its 15th year, Afropunk’s Brooklyn extravaganza began as “a social experiment,” according to Matthew Morgan, one of the founders. To Morgan, the center of community “is a marketplace, a business, and a way for people to trade,” which is why his concerts, like the Harlem event half a century ago, place so much emphasis on not just music but black business and “socio-economic empowerment.”

It’s a spirit as old school as peace and love. But here it’s infused with Afrofuturist language and sensibilities of the now, a belief in the insurgent possibility of “the black hacker” who “disrupts the network,” “codes the culture” and “erodes the grid erected as a cage,” as Morgan puts it, all in the pursuit of vibrant new-world building.

Surely some of the seeds for such a movement were planted back in ’69, particularly when Simone chose as her final song a felt and pointed rendition of another new number, one she’d written in honor of her dear friend, the playwright Lorraine Hansberry, who had died some four years earlier. A love letter to the next generation and a book of instruction, “To Be Young Gifted and Black” was the kind of anthem meant to reach that little girl in the crowd who was hanging on her every word. “Open your heart to what I mean,” sang Simone. “We must begin to tell our young/There’s a world waiting for you/Yours is the quest that’s just begun.” Out on the field, as she emphatically reminded the masses that “your soul’s intact,” the universe was wide open.

Daphne A. Brooks is William R. Kenan Jr. Professor of African-American Studies at Yale University. She is the author of “Liner Notes for the Revolution: Black Feminist Sound Cultures,” forthcoming in 2020 from Harvard University Press.

Sahred From Source link Arts

from WordPress http://bit.ly/2YV0zmg via IFTTT

[fixfoxnox]

I've been on an angst kick I think but I want to keep that to myself for a bit longer (I have plans and the haters will try to stop me) so for now I want to share more thoughts on the Roach whose love language is food thing:

Thinking about someone who Soap used to work with or something similar coming up to base and like working with the team for a bit. Roach can tell immediately that Soap is rather excited about getting to see one of his old buddies again, so he's excited for Soap.

The guy shows up and Roach finds himself immediately less excited when he notices the way that Soap seems to revert back into obsessively watching what he's eating, only eating a little, and avoiding any of the usual treats that Roach knows he likes. It isn't near as bad as it used to be and many people don't even notice the shift, but Roach does. Roach also notices that most of the time Soap is denying himself things is when he's around his old "buddy".

Roach doesn't say anything, but he is very closely watching the interactions between Soap and this guy and like trying to make sure that Soap isn't left alone with him for too long.

Cut to the guys last day on base and Roach has made a big meal for the team to celebrate a successful operation (and for Roach to celebrate Soap's friend leaving). All is going well, Roach has managed to keep Soap happily eating his food without paying any attention to what he's eating or how much he is. Its all going extremely well, then they get to dessert.

Roach makes multiple things like a pie, brownies, pastries, etc. He also made a point to make Soap's favorite dessert (red velvet cake but like super fancy cause Roach made it) because he thought Soap deserved to have something super sweet (which he always thinks Soap deserves to have something sweet) after whatever struggle his friend being there had caused.

Roach brings everything out and Soap is literally vibrating in his seat over the cake. Roach cuts him a big piece and Soap starts digging in. Soap is halfway through his piece of cake when his "friend" like scoffs and says "I guess I know now why you've put on some weight. The Soap I knew wouldn't have even gone near that." Or something along those lines.

The dining room falls silent, Soap pauses and his face falls. Roach see's the way that he hesitantly looks back to his food before dropping the fork. Everyone is tense, Price, Gaz, and Ghost can see what's coming before it even happens. Still, none of them can stop Roach from whipping around and decking Soap's friend across the face, knocking him out cold.

Guy is passed out on the floor and Roach is just casually walking over to the fridge to grab ice for his hand. As Price and the others (begrudgingly) help the guy back up and to medical, Roach sits down at the table with Soap and starts talking him back up and offering him treats and encouraging him to finish up his food (maybe he even feeds him the rest of the cake).

Anyways Roach gets like very minor disciplinary action for it thanks to Price and Laswell meddling. Soap's "friend" is left with a broken nose and a loose tooth and nothing else to show for his time working with the 141. Everyone on base now knows that if you say shit about Soap's eating habits or his weight or anything like that you will likely face Roach's wrath.