#and add doritos everywhere

[p1x1x]

hi tumblr ppl bigger wip for you. (this is only half the page tho Lol its just fluffy sbnk nonsense) my phone is sufficiently charged so now i can play prsk gahahaha

[jadzio]

My costume submissions for pansear-doodles halloween contest!

@pansear-doodles made a contest some time ago and since its over now i wanted to post my submissions and talk a lil abt them

Artificer

This is a costume of arti as Artemis from Hades. I love goddess Artemis and i thought it fitted arti pretty well, as well as hunter tho i had a different idea for them. I wanted to experiment a bit with maybe just being inspired by the Hades version, with some sort of creature bone/skull mask/helmet, as well as adding a bit more flare. I love Hades god designs, but Artemis was always my least fave ngl. tho i wasn't able to experiment much and stuck around to the Hades version due to time and not having many good ideas.

Enot

Im so glad the Once-ler Enot got through and the other shown costume ideas i love em so much. I love joke characters, but i'm clearly isn't the best at designing them heh. This is gamer Enot with all the cringe gamer merch, dressed up as their computer having an LED gamer keyboard and mouse. Maybe now looking at it i should have added maybe some consol (tho they struck me as a religious pc gamer) or some LOL or other popular game merch to sell the gamer look. Maybe also add some doritos and mountain dew.

Gourmand and their pups (matching set)

I for the longest time could not decide, if i wanted to put gourm as dt asgore or ut asgore. Because it had to be asgore no questions asked, i mean look at the guy! I choose ut cause the way asgore is treated in dt just kill me internally. Also ut asgore family is much more functional. For the pups I wanted them to look like they’ve been face painted. Idk if chara and asriel really work for their personality, but i didnt really have any other idea with them. Also the one as asriel could’ve brought those like galaxy swords and some cool stuff from asriel dreemurr fight.

Also i wanted the drawing to resemble those monarch painted family portraits, so that’s why this style.

Hunter

I didnt have any good ideas for hunter, until i was scrolling through my reblogs and saw puss in boots the last wish fanart. It worked so well with the hunter's personality i had to!

Iterators (matching set)

It was so hard to have a good idea for those 4, because tere were 4 of them. You have so many trios everywhere, but 4 gang nahhh. I thought at first to dress them as their slugs u know a classic really, but too basic for me i knew someone would submit that. Maybe cult of the lamb bishops not a bad idea either tbh, but something didn't vibe right. So

I shit u not

the iterators were suppose to be

for the longest time

glamrocks from fnaf sb

yeaahhhhhhh i did have any better idea for a 4 gang and fnaf franchise was the only thing coming to my mind that vibed with me. But then i was scrolling through my alt for reblogs and i saw inscyption fanart i reblogged at some point, and i had that moment: NEURONS ACTIVATE, and decided to not be cringe and make them into scribes ighodghgdoa. I had i lil moment wondering between srs and nsh and leshy and magnificus, but it was quickly resolved by pushing nsh into a bush. and 5p as po3 and lttm as grimora was a no brainer.

Martyr

i dont know why i thought this was a good idea, but i vibed with it. I thought to make them a Julius Caesar from asterix and obelix comics.

This guy:

Monk and the lizards

Monk was always supposed to be a pokemon trainer. It works so well with them. At first i thought to give them Reds outfit, but then i decided to make them an N, a character from Black and White. His closeness and kindness to his pokemon, tie well with monk and their lizards.

Lizards are painted as spindas. i thought abt giving each individual pokemon, but i also wanted to make it quick and easy for the comics, so spindas! infinite patterns for an infinite amount of friends.

Survivor and Nightcat 9matching outfits)

Okay so this reference is like really obscure. It's the main characters from the movie Mune: guardian of the moon. I think i watched it only one time, long ago, i think the plot is really basic, but the lore and the art from it is great. it's one of those: if it was 2d it would’ve been so beautiful.

Anyway i wanted to do a lil swap: survivor is mune and nightcat is glim, cause it worked better personality wise.

anyway go watch it or look up art for it, its really cool

Rivulet

Big big thanks to @kociamieta, because i really could decide where i wanted to go with this. I had an idea for a shark hoodie, undyne, a sci fi speedster and perry the platypus. (if it comes up that someone submitted perry the platypus costume and it didnt go through, idk what i will do) So they were like: why not combine the shark hoodie and a sci fi speedster and jaga u are a genius. im not too proud of this one, the colors could be a lil better and the suit needs some work, but it was the last day of the competition and didn't have that much time.

Saint

Saint as snufkins, very original (i wanted for the Jessica Rabbit costume to win). i don’t have much to say here other then my 10000 environment brushes as always carry the piece

I wondered for a bit if I should make them some cosmic horror god. Not with body horror, but those gods that will stand in the middle of the forest and just look at u.

Scav king

Very basic, jack sparrow inspired scav king costume, inspired by the helm comic part.

(king julien for the win lets gooooo)

Spearmaster

My personal proudest one. A simple spray painter, but i put much care into this one. Now looking at it, I should rethink some colors, but i still like it. The spray cans could’ve been swapped out for needles (optional, not a correct). The tail is a paint brush with a swirl that isn't very visible in the colored piece.

Wanderer

Hollow knight gang! I think quirrel works well with wanderer. I mean the name, the character, the mission. They work well, I think.

Thanks yet again to @pansear-doodles for organizing the whole thing. It was very fun! Congrats to all the other winners too!

[mysticalbookkeeper]

Villainous, Performing the song “Respectless” from Hazbin Hotel

(A script)

(Dr. Flug walks up to a large table in a meeting room in an office building hidden in Hatsville and takes a seat at the head and different villains from different Cartoon Network shows sit all around the table as well)

Dr. Flug: Welcome, members of Black Hat Organization. I’ve ordered you all here because you represent villains all throughout the globe.

Dr. Flug: Together you are millions of souls. Souls at risk of getting slain by heroes with their new extermination policy code.

(Dr. Flug slams a fist down on the table determinedly)

Dr. Flug: We need to discuss what can be done with these so called “heroes” and minimize the impact to our interest.

(HIM takes a seat next to Dr. Flug, surprising the scientist)

Dr. Flug: HIM, so good to see you my friend.

HIM: (giggles) Charmed as always my dear Dr. Flug.

Dr. Flug: (neck reddens in a blush and turns to see Black Hat seated nearby, grinning) Sir? What are you doing here, you never come to these meetings.

Black Hat: Yes I know, I’ve been neglecting these meeting for a long time, I’m sure you’ve all been wondering.

Dr. Flug: No, not really, Sir.

Black Hat: (scowls at Flug) Remind me later to shove you down a Lion’s throat later back at the manor.

Dr. Flug: (sighs) Duly noted sir. Well, welcome to the meeting in any case.

(Black Hat continues to glare)

Dr. Flug: (snaps his fingers and Him graciously gives him his clipboard and Dr. Flug paces at the head of the table)

Dr. Flug: This year’s extermination was brutal. The heroes seem to be gaining a bigger advantage on villains than even we at Black Hat manor can predict. But thanks to my brilliant calculations I was able to depict that at least ten percent of the villains in most populations have been lost. Which isn’t a lot, but things don’t seem to be getting any better. And with even more heroes coming into the fray and killing twice as quickly, I think it’s apparent to be…

(Suddenly, the door kicks in and Dementia walks in, talking on her phone)

Dementia: Yes, I got it One eyed Dorito, are you doubting me? Really? Me?! That’s what I thought. (Chuckles darkly) Yes, I know. They’re all a joke. Thank you B. Kisses darling.

(Dementia sits down and Flug glares at her angrily across the table).

Dr. Flug: Nice of you to join us, Dementia. Will your…colleagues be joining us?

Dementia: No, they have better things to do than listen to a whiny NERD who thinks he’s top shit.

(Dementia turns on the camera app on her phone and records Dr. Flug scowling at her and adds inappropriate images to her screen around the scientist)

Dr. Flug: Charming. (He turns his attention back to his clipboard) So, as I was saying, we need to discuss…

(Dr. Flug trails off as Dementia bounces in her seat and waves her hands in the air)

Dr. Flug: Yes, Dementia?

Demencia: On the topic of discussion…

(Demencia pulls out the head of a hero and tosses it onto the table, blood flying everywhere and everyone but Dr. Flug and Black Hat are repulsed by the display)

Black Hat: Ooh! Tasty!

(Dr. Flug glares at Demencia): Where did you get this?

Demencia: We found it during one of our routine “check ups” in Gravity Falls just shortly after a gnome had been killed there. Couldn’t bother to remember the old ceramic fart’s name. If these stupid heroes can be killed, the game has changed.

(Demencia climbs onto the table and walks around as she speaks)

Demencia: We can take the fight to them! Wouldn’t you agree, Oh, Lordship who doesn’t bother raising a finger against these heroes, because he’s too…cowardly?

(Black Hat hisses at Demencia and she backs off, laughing mockingly)

Demencia: The gang and I have come up with a full assault plan.

(A loud echoing giggle sounds out through the room)

HIM: If it’s true that you and your colleagues desire to war with such meagre proof, then you are far more…foolish than I thought.

Demencia: (scoffs) Meagre proof? It’s a dead fucking hero! I’d say that’s pretty definitive. You going blind old man?

HIM: We do not know how this hero was murdered. Maybe it wasn’t even by a villain’s hand at all. If we rush to war without knowing, wouldn’t they purge all villains for daring to uprise?

(All the other villains murmur in agreement and Demencia noticed Flug get a little sweaty and shift his eyes away)

Dementia: Oh, I get it. So gay claw boy is to pussy to fight, so I guess there’s no point, right?

(HIM glares at Demencia and snaps his claws together in annoyance)

Demencia: Oh what’s the matter fossil? Too senile to make a REAL POWER GRAB for…

(Dr. Flug fed up, gets in Demencia’s face and begins to sing Respectless)

Dr. Flug: You better show some respect! Check your behaviour! Nobody speaks to HIM that way!

🎵 Did you expect us to sit back and take your, insolent brazen display?

Demencia: (laughs)🎵 you got it twisted! I’m not the one who needs a new attitude! Maybe you’ve missed it. But I’m the hashtag bitch and I will do nothing less than I please!

🎵Woo! I’m the backbone of the Vees! 🎵

Demencia: 🎵Mad that I acted Respectless? Well it’s because no one could respect this!

(Demencia walks across the table): 🎵 Sorry group attending! Since when are overlords to scared to fight?

🎵You’re long passed trending! Sorry bae, but I ain’t swiping right! You’ve lost your relevance!🎵

HIM: 🎵We can’t act without more intelligence.

Demencia: 🎵Ugh! No wonder I’m so Respectless, I could eat you lot for breakfast!

Dr. Flug: 🎵 You and the Vees are inane and uninformed! Smug wannabes who don’t heed when you’ve been warned!

Demencia: 🎵Oops! Did I strike a nerve? Because when I pulled out the hero’s head, couldn’t help but observe! That your whole face was turning red!

Demencia: 🎵 And why are you avoiding war? That’s what the little gadgets you sell are for. Thanks to my being respectless, one thing I’m starting to suspect is, you know why this hero’s headless, do you have a disclosure?

Dr. Flug: 🎵This meeting’s over! 🎵

[sgcairo]

quick question is dottore lanky boney body or abs buff in your opinion

He's giving daddy long legs energy.

Okay but this is my chance to cry about his character model because WHAT IS THIS:

EXCUSE ME SIR WHO LET YOU LEAVE SNEZHNAYA LOOKING LIKE THAT??? I JUST WANT TO TALK-

He looks short and I'm devastated.

Maybe it's just the perspective of the trailer, but it's also- It's not giving Dottore.

While I think this is a clone, what is this man doing? Where is the gaunt, bony and sharp angles Doctor that would add to his evil energy?!

He's definitely bony and lanky, in my opinion. Of course, he probably has some muscle, else he wouldn't be a Harbinger, but I would pin it as lean muscle, just because I can't see him as being buff. Capitano? Yes, buff all the way. But Dottore? The man who barely eats or sleeps? Nah. Nope, he has little to no body fat at this point.

I just... my brain said dorito shape and who am I to say no.

The model isn't the worst glow down in Genshin by far- They did Diluc dirty with that glow down (you know the one). But still- Dottore's hair looks like a limp noodle and I'm crying blood.

And his outfit... I'm going to roast it because what in the mother of all character design failures is that? He's got wings coming off one side of his coat/suit thing, one of those ten dollar kids harnesses that parents use at theme parks, and random straps everywhere? His hair even lost its poof!

I'm... distressed. But I will hold my final verdict until I see the cut scenes that include him, I will give Hoyoverse the chance to redeem his character design.

The real question is: who let him off the leash? Keep him within five feet, dear Harbingers. He's unhinged and an arsonist.

Come get your child, Tsaritsa, he's terrorizing innocents with his random buckles.

I'm not saying it's the worst glow down, it definitely caught me off guard though.

[nickysurfer28]

Doritos

A short drabble I wrote. It’s not perfect and it’s been awhile since I posted a fic. So I hope you enjoy!

Thanks to @denisemarieangelina for the help!

I might just add this to my “Hot Sessions”.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Female Reader

Warning: 18+ only , smut

This pic is not mine. Credits go to YouTube and Enews.

You wait patiently as Chris is completing his interview with Ace Comic Con. You watch him from afar as he sits and talks with Scott and the ace comic con interviewer. Occasionally he chugs down his beer and glances over at you. His eyes wander up and down your body while you lay on the couch playing on your phone. He slowly gets inpatient trying to stay focus on the live interview with Scott on the other end, and answering fan questions and so on. You quietly glance over at Chris, thinking to yourself “Damn he looks good today in that right white tank and open floral shirt, even his tattoos are peaking”. You get all flustered and try to reconcile yourself. You quickly get an idea and quietly disappear into the other room . Chris glances up and noticed you’re gone. “Where is my girl?”. Thinking to himself. He quickly adjust and gets back to the interview at end trying not to look distracted or confused.

As Chris is in the other room continuing along with the interview, you plot your naughty surprise for him. You remembered you bought a bunch of Doritos Cool Ranch chips the other day on sale and it was “buy one get one free” , but you ended up buying like four bags because Chris loves them so much. You quickly and quietly make a trail of Doritos around the house with little notes to give hints for Chris. You make sure as you place the chips around him quietly so he doesn’t get view of what you’re doing. As you finish making the trail of chips , you strip off your outfit and lay yourself on the bed and open all the bags of remaining chips and place them all over your body. You leave one bag partially half full just to munch on them as you wait for Chris to find you.

You hear Chris finishing up the interview and saying goodbye to Scott as well. You quickly send him a text and hopes he starts the trail of surprise.

Text: “ I left you a sweet trail of your favorite snack. Come find me!!”

Chris reads the text with a big grin on his face.

Text: “oh don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll find you!”

Chris starts his trail of chips and reads the little notes you left for him to find. He quickly finds his way into the bedroom munching on the chips and his eyes widen by the surprise he finds on the bed.

“Holy shit!, damn sweetheart!”

You giggle with glee.

“Aren’t you hungry?”

Chris’s eyebrows arch and has the biggest grin on his face.

“Hmm , why yes I am hungry..”

Without any hesitation Chris striped off his clothes and jumps on top of you like a hungry animal. You giggle as he climbs on top and places his lips on top of yours. He works his way down your body slowly eating the chips off your naked body. He gets between your legs eating the remaining chips and buried his face in your hot core. You grab his hair as your back arches. You feel his tongue whirling around your hot core making you more wet than ever.

“Please Chris .... I ....” , you got lost with your words as Chris works you completely.

He leans up and looks at you with his piercing blue eyes. “Oh I just begun , sweetheart.”

You look at him with lust in your eyes.

“I want you now!” Chris obey and stroked himself some more as he began to enter your hot core.

He began to move in and out of your completely wet core. He thrust started to go harder and deeper as you squealed in ecstasy. He continues to pound you as the chips are flying everywhere and crunching between your sweaty bodies. He sucks on your nipples as your body flinches even more and you’re getting closer to climax.

“I’m gonna cum... CHRIS!” You screamed as his body pushed tighter against you.

His deep raspy voice whispered softly into your ear. “Yes. Cum for me...sweetheart.”

You finally felt the heat rising and washing over you as you reached climax. Chris quickly followed after. Your bodies collapsed on to each other along with the Doritos chips crushed and wet from the sweat. You both laugh from the site of the messy chips.

Chris chuckled, “This was the best snack ever.”

You couldn’t help but laugh with him. “You’re welcome.”

Tags: @denisemarieangelina @waywardodysseys @bellaireland1981 @daliaevans @lovinevans @patzammit @donutloverxo @sweater-daddiesdumbdork @stargazingfangirl18 @ozarkthedog @nomadevans82 @bit-of-a-timelord @chris-butt @katiew1973 @jtargaryen18 @trishevans @oddsnendsfanfics @branflakes82 @ohmy-captain @what-is-your-plan-today @tanyam93 @icanfeelastormbrewing @brilliantkey @retrogeekgal @buckysteveloki-me @kelbabyblue @enigma2112 @im-married-to-chris-evans @jms359 @xlanawriter @shellbilee @mery-be @iamwhoiamtmblr @marvelousstevetony

If I missed any tags let me know . Feel free to reblog.

[elisaphoenix13]

Attack Of The...Fruit?

Stephen scrutinizes the apples in front of him while Valerie grabs the edge of the stand to peek at the abundance of fruit and vegetables while simultaneously sticking close to his leg. She was always easy to shop with since he didn't have to worry about her wandering off, and he loved seeing the curiosity fill her big blue eyes. Sometimes she helped pick out the produce, and other times she was content to just watch her mother do it himself. The rest of the kids, including Cassie, were wandering around the rest of the store to help grab what was on the list or to make a sad attempt at putting their choice junk food in the cart with their haul.

"...Mom?" William says softly from the other side of the stand.

"Hmm?" Stephen acknowledges as he grabs a couple of decent apples.

"Can we get more strawberries?" The teen asks carefully.

The fact that William was even asking for something made Stephen happy. It was a big step from what the twins were like when they first moved in, and Stephen and Tony had to take baby steps with them. They were a little forceful about things the twins needed, but things they wanted? They started taking Harley and Peter along on their shopping trips because those two always asked for at least one thing. The twins had seen that even if they were told no, it was said gently and Stephen sent them off to go put whatever it was back. It also helped that Peter had been in their shoes once upon a time. While he wasn't between foster homes or out on the streets, he still didn't like asking for things unless he needed them.

He even explained it to Thomas and William.

"Of course. Why don't you grab some whipped cream to go with it?" Stephen nods toward the back.

William lights up and walks off to retrieve a can of whipped cream after placing a container of strawberries into the basket. It was during this that Valerie gently tugged on Stephen's pant leg and pointed toward a shorter stand with mangoes piled on top of it. They must have been in season if they were on sale.

"Mama...fwuit?" The baby asks softly.

"Do you want to try one?" He asks and smiles when she nods. "Alright. Go ahead and grab one."

Valerie looks between him and the stand uncertainly and when he makes no movement, she walks the few feet over to the stand. She was always nervous to leave his side, but she was slowly starting to detach from it willingly. It always made Stephen want to gather her up in his arms and firmly reattach her to him, in the metaphorical (and somewhat literal) sense. She was his baby and he wasn't sure if he was ready for her to grow up yet.

He watches as his youngest daughter looks at the pile of mangoes with a calculating gaze, and then reaches up to grab one. She was very smart for her age and knew what fruit she could grab without sending the rest tumbling to the ground, and did just that before walking back to Stephen to hold it up to him. The sorcerer takes it with a smile and puts it in the cart, chuckling when she gently grips onto Athena's fur.

The wolf was so well behaved in public settings like this, that they were able to get away with making her a service animal. Tony had her licensed and even got her a vest for outings like this. And her being a service animal wasn't a total lie either. She helped with Valerie. If she were to ever get seperated from the family, Athena was to either find a safe place for her to wait for someone to find her, or she would follow a familiar scent to find a family or team member. It depended on the location and amount of people, and fortunately nothing had happened yet.

Athena was almost just as attached to Stephen as Valerie was. It made it easier for the baby to stay close when she wanted to walk since Stephen was a bit too tall for her to hold onto his belt loops.

"Good job." He praises and makes his way to the cereal aisle.

There was where William rejoined them with a can of whipped cream which he promptly put into the basket, and then Peter with his armful of list items. And of course the bag of Doritos he thought he cleverly hid. Stephen gave him a knowing look so that the teen was aware that he had noticed, but didn't say anything. Every once in a while he let the boys get away with a snack of their choosing. Today was one of those days.

A small gust of wind blows past the sorcerer and he huffs fondly. "Thomas, what have I told you about running indoors?"

"Sorry! But they have white cheddar Cheez-Its on sale!" The older twin says excitedly and Stephen rolls his eyes.

"As much as we appreciate that you're trying to save money, we don't notice when we save fifty cents. You can get those whether they're on sale or not." Stephen reminds him.

Thomas sighs. "I know. It's a habit."

"There's nothing wrong with that, but I don't want you to worry about money, okay?" Stephen assures the twins and Harley cackles as he joins them with Cassie and Diana.

"Yeah, Dad sneezes out money. Probably wipes--"

Stephen clears his throat, and while Harley didn't finish his sentence, he still grinned. He and the girls put their haul of groceries and chosen snacks in the cart, and after Stephen tells them all to choose a box of cereal, they take the cart up front and check out. Cassie was really only along to help and get herself some snacks since she had gone shopping with her parents earlier in the week. Once everything was bought, everyone grabbed some bags and walked outside where Stephen opened a portal in a secluded corner and they all went through.

Bags were placed on the counter and table, and Athena laid in her usual spot next to the counter after Peter helped take off her harness. While the kids put away the groceries, Valerie finds her mango and holds it up for Stephen. He takes it and washes it before asking Harley to cut it for her and places her in her highchair while they wait.

When there's a small jingling noise, the sorcerer looks down, expecting Tibbs to be at his feet waiting for treats...but he watched Flynn dash into the kitchen instead. He zooms around in his excitement, and then stops very briefly to show the black collar around his neck. Cassie makes a noise between a laugh and a sigh when the fox starts zooming around the floor again.

"Papa got him a collar this morning. Flynn's...very excited and proud about it." She explains as the celestial himself walks past the kitchen toward the living room with Scott.

"The little shit needed one. He goes everywhere with me when he can and one of these days he's going to get lost." Quill grumbles.

Flynn yips happily and runs after the god to climb up his leg and up to his shoulders, not even breaking Quill's stride to the living room. Stephen wasn't even surprised how well they were synced to each other, or in this case, how well Flynn was synced to Quill. The tiny bell on the collar with the fox's tags was probably for everyone's safety since Flynn was notorious for coming out of nowhere and tripping people up around Quill.

"Here you go, Val." Harley says as he places some pieces of mango on the tray in front of her.

"Tank you." She says softly before picking up a piece and eating it.

Stephen helped with the rest of the groceries and sent the other kids off with their snacks to do as they pleased. Only William sat at the table, which currently held the jigsaw puzzle he and the younger twin were slowly working on. It was supposed to be a picture of a Japanese garden when they finished but so far all they got finished was the border and the koi pond. It was a three thousand piece puzzle that would take them some time to complete since they hadn't sat down with it since the day they started it. They usually put a couple pieces together before moving on when they couldn't sit down, but it was their thing. A way to spend time together.

As Stephen puts together some cheese and crackers for Diana (as requested), he hears a whine of discomfort. He looks over at Valerie and William and finds the teen looking at the baby in shock and opening his mouth.

"Mom!" He finally says, and points to Valerie when he sees that Stephen is looking at him.

"What's wrong?" He asks in concern, rounding the counter to walk over and look at the baby.

William didn't need to answer. Stephen saw immediately what had worried the boy, and it sent a spike of panic through him very briefly. Valerie's face, neck, and arms were covered in red splotches that obviously itched if the baby scratching was indication. Stephen reaches out to pick her up, and looks at William as he points to the tray still holding a few pieces of mango.

"Wash and sanitize that thoroughly, please. Scott! Can you go get the Benadryl from the medicine cabinet?" Stephen calls out.

"Uh...sure." Was the thief's reply. He must have heard the urgency in the sorcerer's voice because it barely took him a minute to get the medicine to Stephen and see why it was needed. "Oh man. What was it?"

"Mangoes. She's never had them before." Stephen answers and takes the small cup once Scott measures out a small dose.

"She gonna be okay?" He asks.

"This seems to be her only reaction. She'll be uncomfortable for a little bit but she'll be fine."

Stephen helps Valerie drink the medicine, and she curls against him with a whine when she finishes. While Scott returns the medicine, the sorcerer gently rubs her back and hushes her gently in an attempt to soothe her. William had not only cleaned up the tray, but the rest of the chair as well, even if it was all overkill. As a distraction, Stephen sits at the table with her and works on the puzzle with William after asking Cassie to finish making Diana's snack, and it was about an hour later when Tony got home from half a day of meetings.

It didn't take him long to notice the baby's condition when he approached Stephen to give him a greeting kiss. "Povero topolina," he murmurs and kisses the top of her head.

"Mangoes." Stephen answers his husband's unanswered, forming question. "We'll have to monitor some of her food."

Tony nods. "Friday, add mangoes to the baby's allergy list please."

"Yes Boss."

They had lists for every kid in case of emergencies, sleepovers, for doctors, or however else they might need them. Mint was added to Peter's list when Tony came up with the idea, and now all they had to do was ask Friday to add to the lists when needed. She even scanned for the allergens when products were in full view. Sometimes things were overlooked. It definitely kept Peter from living in the bathroom a few times.

"She's falling asleep." Tony says quietly and Stephen nods as he places a piece of the puzzle correctly.

"I gave her Benadryl. It will help her sleep through the worst of it and treat the reaction."

"Want me to take her up to bed?"

"No. It's alright. Thank you." Stephen answers softly.

Tony nods. "Let me know if you change your mind."

Fortunately, Valerie was fine by the next afternoon after Stephen gave her a second dose before bed. The problem was that she didn't understand why she couldn't have the rest of her mango. She enjoyed it, but Stephen had told her no and it broke his heart to see her crestfallen expression when he explained that it made her sick. Valerie seemed to understand to an extent and was happy to eat some of William's strawberries as an alternative. She certainly enjoyed letting the boy spray a little bit of whipped cream in her mouth.

Strawberries and cream were something William only shared with Stephen and Valerie. And to the doctor's amusement, Harley. If Thomas, Peter, or Cassie tried to take some, William would grab the bowl and turn away with it with an impish smile.

"Berry!" Valerie demands, and Stephen watches as William turns away from the puzzle they were sitting down for again, and feeds the baby a small piece of strawberry.

Cassie had Diana, and now William had Valerie. Stephen wasn't complaining. At least not right now.

He might have an issue with it when it starts the separation process from Stephen.

[cheatdeathsarchive]

META: six post sierra madre.

note: canon divergence. any npcs mentioned are in direct reference to the storyline i use for six when i write her alone, and is not what i anticipate or expect out of the rpers who portray said characters.

upon coming back to the mojave, six is traumatized, which... i mean, obviously. the first thing that six did upon coming back was beeline to the brotherhood bunker, express she had news about father elijah, and used the opportunity to infiltrate the bunker to blow it up. upon returning to the lucky 38, she is a mess.

the sierra madre jumpsuit, a bruised and chafed neck. her hair is matted, uncombed, and dirty, and she’s covered in dried blood and dirt with makeup that was applied and ruined at least a week ago. mr. house did not care about any of this when she went to see him, which was the very second thing she did. six then gives herself about a week to recover, feigning that it’s just because she wants the injuries where the collar had been around her neck to go away, but even as it’s gone she deals with much more beyond.

it takes her a bit of time, but six is able to bury deep all the trauma, heal from it some, and eventually move on best that she can. she finally closes the book on it all when dean domino makes his way to new vegas and starts performing at the tops, and when she happens upon god/dog in jacobstown who is healing and doing better as well not too long after. seeing both of them moving on makes six finally feel like maybe she can, too. both dean and dog/god’s arrival to the mojave occur post dam.

before then, however, six challenges her traumas head on thanks to knowing that it isn’t “normal” and it would definitely alarm the people who know how she tends to behave. things like walking by the king’s school and seeing the speakers outside terrifies her, for example. her usually enjoying the radio but shooting the one in her suite soon as she gets back another. she doesn’t like the way people look at her during those moments of panic.

those things are not normal, and so six spends quite some time coping in private ( that week she grants herself ) before allowing herself to go out and feign normalcy again. it is also is helpful that the war for hoover dam occurred so soon after she didn’t really have time to keep hiding away. she had places to be, things to do. she had to be there, and that distraction helped pull her back out of the sierra madre to the mojave.

i’m trying to not jump around too much. here are the main areas that affected six the most:

killing: while she has killed out of necessity and self defense before, for quite a while after returning six keeps a cosmic knife close to her at all times. she is not strong, has not been strong, nor will ever really be strong, but after killing raiders, fiends, and the ceasar’s legion assassins who tail after her, she methodically and extremely detached from herself mutiliates the bodies with the knife. it’s a reflection of the ghost people who, to her horror, kept on coming back. it was paramount to destroy their heads, and it’s something she does basically on autopilot. it just... needs to be done. it’s a reflex to ensure survival.

addiction: sleeping was unsafe anywhere the toxic cloud was. because of this, six comes back to the mojave dependent on psycho, steady, and other uppers to keep her awake. she is also addicted to sierra madre cocktails. with the help of julie farkas she is able to curb the addictions with a lot of fixer and detoxing, though she denies that sierra madre cocktails have addictive properties and continues to knock those back even after she has curbed her addiction to the others. she hides them everywhere. eventually it comes out that they are addictive, and six dumps the rest and has a very ugly time recovering from her dependency on the rat poison dorito blend.

the radio: six cannot stand the radio for awhile post return. her radio in her room she shoots until it’s a smoking mess. she makes victor take all the radios off the floor that the presidential suite is on until she misses music so much that she recruits help in someone turning on the radio and letting her take a few steps towards it, holding her breath, and seeing that it won’t blow her up. she runs dozen upon dozens of tests, disassembles and reassembles every radio in the lucky 38 she can get her hands on, and to this day the sound of radio static leaves an unpleasant feeling in her heart that takes a few moments to shake after it’s gone and music replaces it.

the collar: six does not like things around her neck, does not like people touching her neck, and does not like having her neck exposed. for a long time after, even once the physical injuries are gone, six has a small habit of holding her neck in her hands and rubbing the skin there, a soothing reminder she does not have a collar on.

her pip-boy: six paid someone to get her as many pip-boy supplies and mick and ralph would sell her. because of how elijah took away so much of her freedom with those collars, and how he spoke out of her pip-boy, a large part of her felt hypervigilant and paranoid about what might have remained in her pip-boy. she also spends a few nights, still high on things to keep her awake and alert, on breaking her entire pip-boy apart, making sure it wasn’t bugged, tampered with, etc. she finally feels comfortable enough to not do this any longer after the third time of doing it and seeing nothing had changed.

veronica, christine, and the others: this is the big one. without thinking six took vera keyes’ dress, the one from her suitcase because she had a feeling veronica would think it was beautiful. despite meeting christine and putting it all together, she didn’t tell christine that she knew about any of it. post elijah’s death, all who had been brought together by elijah met up and sort of... made sure they were all on the same page about things being safe. that the collars were not working. they took inventory, made sure that six promised up and down that elijah was dead, and then all went their own ways quietly.

six gave dean a business card to the tops and the one gold bar she could carry out. she gave dog/god a map to jacobstown. and christine, she gave elijah’s pip-boy, a kiss, and an apology that the brotherhood in the mojave was wiped out -- that ncr did it after they failed to hold poseidon energy and as the ncr was finding their footing in the mojave.

not all of it was a lie -- and the parts that were lies that six could correct she did upon immediately returning.

something else to add but doesn’t deserve it’s own whole category is that it only reinforces her absolute fear of the dark, people sneaking up behind her, and loud booming noises.

[writeraquamarinara]

9 & 15 🖤🖤

9. What are your top fan fiction recommendations?

Oh god does anyone remember when I was doing my alphabetical Bughead fanfic recs? I think I only got to E… whoops. I had them picked out for every letter, though! I just never got around to writing the rec itself.

So here’s the list, if anyone’s interested (please keep in mind that this was compiled over a year ago and I have not updated it with any new fics):

A- Achievement Unlocked by @stillscape

B- body talks by @justcourbeau

C- The Con by @jerepars

D- ‘Date with a Bulldog’ Auction by @noorakardemmomesaetre

E- everywhere he touches (is fire) by @whaticameherefor

F- fragile little flame by @rivervixens

G- a great language by @heartunsettledsoul (why is tumblr not letting me tag her properly !!)

H- Harvest to Home by AdamantEve, aka @writeradamanteve

I- I’ll be there to watch the fire (burn us both alive) by @aisforr

J- Just Like Broken Glass by @aswellingstorm

K- Keys by @ieatbooksfortea

L- Love to Hate You by @i-know-you-can

M- may my heart be your shelter (and my arms be your home) by smoochmejuggie (idk their tumblr username, so if someone does pls lmk and I’ll add it!)

N- Next Time by Naoko_Asakura (same deal: don’t know their tumblr username, unfortunately, but lmk if you do!)

O- oil and water by @onceuponamirror

P- Painted Skin by MotherMaple

Q- Queen Me by @forasecondtherewedwon

R- A River in Egypt by @hellodinoflower

S- simmer down and pucker up by Santiagone (not sure if the tumblr username is the same)

T- take me home by @sylwrites

U- Underlines by @imreallyloveleee

V- viva americana by @heavy-lies-the-crown

W- Wilder Mind by @secretsofthesky

X- 10 Things to Love About Her by @thetaoofbetty 

Y- You’ve made your bed (now lie in it) by MotherMaple

Z- Zero to Sixty by @stillscape

This list was incredibly hard to compile, and obviously a ton of incredible fics were left out. I would just use this as an authors rec list as well: anything these people have written is gold.

I also have a whole other list of Bughead series that I love, which I didn’t allow myself to add here, that includes a bunch of other authors, so I’ll add those in too:

The Adventures of Porkchop and Caramel by StarlightAfterAStorm

all the roads we have to walk by @stillscape​

Back to You & I’ll Be Good (series) by @whaticameherefor​

Book of Love by @heavy-lies-the-crown​

coexist by @sopaloma

Cowboy Jones by @writeradamanteve​

Fall in Light by @sylwrites​

For a good time, call Betty by MotherMaple

Heavy Ceiling by @jerepars​

Intermissions by @yavannie

Literary Works by @happilyshanghaied​

lyrical inspirations by @whaticameherefor​

On Borrowed Time by @aisforr

ranch-flavored off-brand Doritos by @stillscape

Reignite Our Love by @whaticameherefor

Something To Tell You by @findingbetty​

Sucker Love by RemitheDaydreamer 

viva las vegas by @jordansconnor

Fic writers that still have not been mentioned but you should be flailing over:

@sheriff-snikety-snake

@flwrpotts

@jugandbettsdetectiveagency

@ithoughtyoulikedmereckless

@catthecoder

@iconic-ponytail

@stirringsofconsciousness

@satelliteinasupernova

@stonerbughead

@wolfofansbach

@indiebughead

@miss-eee

@teapotfiction

@allskynostars

@cooperandjonesinc

Just search for all of their AO3s and you’ll have enough incredible fic to last you longer than this quarantine (hopefully)

15. What are you most looking forward to when the quarantine is over?

I’m looking forward to leaving the house, seeing my friends in person, going to the library, watching movies in theaters, tanning on the beach, getting into my gym routine again, being less stressed out by the state of the world.

Thank you so much for the asks!

[thisstableground]

Okay, a bird gets in through the window of their apartment and can't get out (because it's panicked), and now it's flying everywhere *except* back through the open window. How do they deal with it?

(this is an early relationship fic bc i’m in that kinda mood right now)

edit: also on AO3! please leave a comment if you liked it!

*

“Looked like Vanessa was dolling herself up real cute for your lunch date when I went up on break,” Usnavi says. “And me stuck here at the store while you guys have all the fun without me.”

“You don’t mind, do you?” Ruben asks, concerned. “I don’t wanna, y’know, get in the way of things.”

“She’s your girlfriend too,” Usnavi says, charitably ignoring the panicked balloon-deflating noise Ruben makes: the g-word is still a very new development. “I just miss you both when I can’t come with you.”

“We’ll be done in a couple hours.”

“I know, it’s so long.” Usnavi says, tragically. He picks up his cell from where it’s vibrating insistently on the counter. “Oh! She misses us too! Hey, Vanessa!” 

His smile disappears as she responds: from where he’s standing, all Ruben can hear is a bunch of incoherent yelling and shrieking from the other end. His heartrate instantly triples. It might have shattered a rib or two.

Usnavi grabs the creased piece of laminated paper under the counter that reads “back in five minutes/vuelta en cinco minutos!!” and is saying “ ¿qué pa—Vanessa, cálmate, I don’t – what’s happening?” as he runs to stick it to the door and click the locks closed. Even from several feet away, Ruben hears Vanessa’s voice yell “JUST GET YOUR SKINNY ASS UP HERE RIGHT NOW!”

He hightails it after Usnavi up the back stairs to the apartment. “What was that?!”

“No sé, I couldn’t tell, it sounded like she said someone came into the apartment-”

“What?!” He doesn’t even have time to panic about it: they crest the top of the stairs and almost crash directly into Vanessa standing outside Usnavi’s front door. She’s dripping wet and wearing only a towel, trying to look in through the peephole despite that decidedly not being how peepholes work.

“Vanessa!” Ruben goes instinctively to check on her then hastily averts his eyes to the ceiling when he registers what she’s wearing, because yes, he saw her naked last night but he’s still polite.  “Oh, uh—“

Usnavi shrugs out of his shirt to drape around Vanessa’s shoulders and hugs her close. “Amorcita, what happened, are you okay?”

“No, I am not okay!” she says furiously. “I was in the shower and a fucking bird came in and chased me out here!”

“Wait, a bird? You were just screaming because of a bird?” Ruben catches Usnavi’s eye and both of them instantly burst into laughter, which is mostly from relief and is also exactly the wrong thing to do.

“Oh, so it’s funny is it?” Vanessa says, looking about as murderous as anyone with shampoo bubbles in their hair has ever looked.

“We’re not laughing at you, I promise!” Ruben says, undercut significantly by the fact that to be fair, he is still laughing. “We’re just relieved it wasn’t anything dangerous.”

“Not dangerous?!” Vanessa hollers. “It could have beaked me!”

“Heyheyhey, we’re cool, we’re cool,” Usnavi says soothingly, making cut it out eyes at Ruben. “Ain’t gonna let nothing run my girl out of my apartment like that. I’ll get the bird, you just wait here with Ruben. Who will not laugh any more,” he adds, severely.

“Laughing? Never even heard of it,” Ruben says.

“....You’ll be careful?” Vanessa says to Usnavi.

Usnavi stands just a little taller at her concern, glowing with chivalrous intent, and says, “no te preocupes, querida, I ain’t afraid of no bird.”

He opens the front door and pauses on the threshold. Ruben can tell there’s triumphant battle music playing in his mind right now, mostly because he’s humming it very quietly to himself while he adjusts his hat before he heads inside.

Three and a bit seconds later, there’s a brief crash and some hollered cursing from the apartment. Usnavi bursts back out into the corridor and scuttles over to the opposite wall, flattening against it like a shadow.

“Guys, I am so afraid of this bird,” he tells them.

“Did it beak you,” Ruben says dryly.

“It nearly did! I tried to ask it to leave and then it–“ Usnavi does a wild flapping motion with his arms and goes skraaaaaa!, his eyes all big in a way that implies see? Do you see how terrifying this is? Ruben tactfully does not inform him that it makes him look like he should be standing outside a car dealership in a heavy wind.

“It was never gonna work, babe, I already tried everything,” Vanessa says. “I tried yelling at it.”

They wait for the rest of it. There is no rest of it. Vanessa shrugs like I mean, what else is there?

“Well, I hope you’re not too attached to this apartment, Usnavi,” Ruben says, and both turn in unison to look at him imploringly. They’re wearing hopeful, expectant Ruben Can Solve Anything expressions, the ones they make before they ask him things about sports or Europe or other arcane and unknowable topics. It makes him want to shout hold on, I’m just a chemist, the only thing I can do to a pigeon is poison it or teach it how to run assays but it also makes him want to go and get a PhD in Please Get Bird Out Of Bathroom so that he can resolve the situation as comprehensively as possible. 

He is, he reflects a little sadly, a sucker for providing solutions.

“Alright,” he says, in a firm voice, because it’s either that or let them down. “Usnavi, I need you to go get me a box from the bodega to trap it in.”

Usnavi nods once, solemn-faced like a soldier being given orders, and hurries downstairs. He’s back in short order with an empty Doritos box that he hands over. Ruben makes it all of two cautiously tiptoeing steps into the apartment before Vanessa grabs his arm and pulls him back for a kiss on the cheek that has the resigned air of impending doom to it: we only had the Ruben for two weeks before he was taken by the birds, he imagines her telling people after the fact. I knew we should have had him insured.

Inside the bathroom is much less carnage than he’d expected based on the other two’s reactions. There’s water all over the floor, probably from Vanessa’s hasty exit, and Usnavi’s toothbrush cup has been knocked down into the basin, where it’s clattering around under the feet of a pigeon that Ruben would, scientifically, describe as Oh Boy, That’s Pretty Big Actually. In itself it isn’t all that scary, but in the context of being a pigeon in a places that pigeons usually aren’t it really is quite unsettling. Like how he isn’t in the slightest scared of rats, but still jumps out of his skin and tries to keep a wide berth whenever he sees one in the stairwell of his apartment building. At least it isn’t actively flapping around at the moment.

Ruben casts his eye around but there isn’t a towel in the usual place on the radiator – of course not, Vanessa must have grabbed it on her way out. He sets down the box as he takes his sweater off instead, thanks it silently for its dedication to the cause, and then holds it up in the air, inching closer to the pigeon.

“You could just leave now,” he tries, just in case. “It’ll be easier for both of us.”

The pigeon shuffles around, its talons making scritchy noises against the ceramic of the basin. “Trrr,” it says.

“The window’s right there.” He takes another step closer. “Fine, I guess not. Sorry about this,” and in a quick movement he throws his sweater over it and, using the second of struggling confusion while it tries to get free, scoops the sweater-wrapped pigeon into the box in a move that is significantly more blind luck than animal handling skills.

“Sorry sorry sorry sorry!” he chants, shoving half his body and the box out the window and inelegantly shaking a very confused and unhappy pigeon out into the sky, where it luckily flaps off in distress rather than going right for his eyes so he can bring the box back in and close the window blessedly un-mauled. His sweater is mostly unharmed too, albeit in need of a wash, because pigeons have pretty much one reaction to stress, as evidenced by the rest of the bathroom. He tosses the knocked-over toothbrush straight in the trash because he knows Usnavi won’t even think about putting it in his mouth all covered in bird-germs later, and is bleaching down the basin when he hears a tentative “Ruben are you dead?”

“Somehow I pulled through,” he says.

Usnavi opens the door the tiniest fraction. “Is it still in there?”

“No, I caught it and let it out. No casualties, except your toothbrush.”

Usnavi opens the door properly, with Vanessa peeking over his shoulder, not even pretending she isn’t hiding behind him. When they confirm that the bathroom is safe she stands up straight and both of them beam at Ruben.

“You really did it,” Vanessa says, in a tone of absolute awe while Usnavi kisses him enthusiastically and Ruben, a man who has faced down pain, torture and death, has literally never felt braver or more heroic than he does right now.

[sockparade]

tips for surviving the pandemic: things i learned from my immigrant parents

It’s hard to believe that it’s only been a little over a week since the WHO announced that the coronavirus (COVID-19) was officially a pandemic. This has been a long, challenging week for a lot of people and it is nothing short of terrifying to read reports of what is happening in Asia and Europe as many predict that we’ll likely endure a similar fate here in the United States. In the midst of all of this chaos and uncertainty, I’ve been reminded of so many lessons that my Taiwanese immigrant parents taught me. I’m sharing them here so that others might also benefit. Thanks Ma. Thanks Daddy.

你昨天已經出去了.

“You already went out yesterday.“

1. Learn how to stay home. Our family is eight days into self-isolating at home and Tony asked me this morning if I had cabin fever. And strangely, the answer is no. I’m not. Not to downplay the difficulty of this moment but my experience with this “shelter-in-place” ordinance reminds of pretty much all my summers between kindergarten and 8th grade. Both of my parents worked full-time so summer was just three blissful months of nothing. No structure, no plans, no camps, no playdates, and no responsibilities. My parents never made me feel like I was missing a thing by staying home and I don’t remember ever feeling bored. There were always library books to read, stories to write, and thoughts to journal. Hours were spent playing school with my big sister (now a first grade teacher!), making up random games like who can avoid touching the carpet longest, learning Kim Zmeskal’s latest gymnastics floor routine, writing lyrics to Kenny G saxophone solos, and rehearsing for our variety show that we would perform to our tired parents at the end of the day. And that’s not even including the hours we spent watching The Price is Right, CHIPS, Knight Rider, and Airwolf (yep, no cable).   

As a teenager I carefully plotted all my hangouts with friends so that I didn’t have too many consecutive days when I was out of the house. Whenever I asked my parents if I could hang out with friends, they would always say, “But you already went out yesterday. What’s wrong with staying home? Why do you always have to go out?” It was as if having too much fun two days in a row was off limits. If there was a big party on Friday, I would purposely make sure I stayed home Wednesday and Thursday just to increase the chances of being able to go out on Friday. I know a lot of people talk about how awful their high school years were but I was one of those lucky kids who had a really great group of friends that made me feel seen, loved, and cared for. The downside was that I couldn’t get enough of it. I was always thinking about the next hangout, the next event, the next thing. It took me all the way until my late twenties to fully appreciate the fine art of staying home and to finish my unexpected transformation into the expert homebody that I am today. 

I’m reminded of that old quote by Blaise Pascal, “All of humanity's problems stem from man's inability to sit quietly in a room alone." 

It’s great to be out and about, but it’s also really important to learn how to stay home.  

______________________________________________

晚上要吃什麼？清冰箱.

“What are we eating for dinner?” “Cleaning the fridge.”

2. Be creative with what you have. I love food. Not in a foodie sense, but I get a lot of pleasure out of eating. I’m not a food snob by any stretch of the imagination. I thoroughly enjoy a Stouffer’s frozen lasagna or a peanut butter and jelly sandwich as much as I enjoy a fancy, inventive, Michelin-starred meal at Commis. What’s hard for me is when food is eaten as sustenance rather than with delight. But my parents taught me that you can always take pride in preparing a meal. No matter your ingredients.

My mom is an excellent cook. I know a lot of people think their mom is a good cook but my mom is legitimately skilled in the kitchen. There were some nights when I’d ask what was for dinner and my mom would just reply, “Cleaning the fridge.” 

Now for some, this might sound terrifying. But my mom could honestly make something out of nothing. I still crave my dad’s simple egg and garlic fried rice. My parents raised me to be able to make an tasty meal just from rummaging in the pantry and fridge for random leftover things. There were plenty of summers where lunches and snacks were an individual culinary adventure for each of us kids. I still remember the day I witnessed my baby sister add a Kraft single on top of her onion ramen noodles. She saw my confusion, shrugged and said, “You should try it, it’s good.” 

With all the hoarding folks have been doing during this pandemic, I’ve found myself feeling quite anxious. Trying to calculate if we have enough food. Estimating how many more meals we can eat at home before we need to make another grocery run. As someone who struggles with a scarcity mentality it has been hard not to panic. But then I keep reminding myself that I know how to make good food using just whatever’s available. 

You know, I was pretty disappointed with Mary H.K. Choi’s second novel, Permanent Record, given how much I enjoyed her debut novel, Emergency Contact. But I was absolutely thrilled with the shine she gave to what her protagonist calls “Hot Snacks”.

Here’s an excerpt from Permanent Record that is a beautiful ode to creative food mashups and immigrant kids everywhere: 

“I edit and post a Shin Ramyun Black video set to music. My favorite instant noodles with three flavor packets and so much garlic. It’s a classic Korean HotSnack, especially when you throw in cut-up hot dogs, frozen dumplings, extra kimchi - and this is where the artistry comes in- eggs, cheese, corn from a can, and a drizzle of sesame oil on top. And furikake if you’re feeling wealthy. The next night I put up a bacon, egg, and cheese not in a bagel but in a glazed honey bun. Laced with sriracha and pan fried on the outside. Then it’s chilaquiles with Spicy Sweet Chili Doritos and chorizo. Jamaican beef patty casserole disrespected with a smothering of Japanese curry and broiled. With Crystal Hot Sauce over the top and pickled banana peppers. I’m trolling with that one but the controversy is berserk. When I run out of old videos, I make saag paneer naanchos with Trader Joe’s frozen Indian food, and it’s a hit. Especially when I add yogurt and a thick layer of crushed-up Takis on top.”

______________________________________________

看連續劇.

“Watch soap operas.” 

3. Find a way to escape. I’m generally pro technology but I’ll admit I’m a little bummed at the way iPhones and iPads have made TV viewing such an individual activity. I like how Disney+ has gotten some families back to watching TV together again. Although I will say, we really coddle our kids these days. I grew up in a time when movie ratings only applied in the theaters and we watched movies with our families like Alien, The Fly, and Gremlins. We were scared out of our minds and sometimes could only watch through the cracks between our fingers covering our eyes because it was so scary. Okay, this also might be why I can’t watch horror movies as an adult. 

From a young age, my parents taught me that watching other people’s drama unfold on screen is one of the best way to escape your own drama. Some people say binge watching became a thing when the TV networks started releasing shows on DVD. Others give credit to Netflix releasing their original content a whole season at a time. But truth be told, I first learned how to binge watch from my parents. 

We would rent 30-40 VHS cassette tapes from that random spot in Bellaire Chinatown. Can you picture it? You needed multiple plastic bags to transport that many VHS tapes. 

Do you remember the one about the dying mother who needed to find homes for each of her 7 children? I don’t think it’s normal for a 10 year old to cry so much but you better believe it’s made me learn the true value of a soap opera escape hatch. 

Are you in a pandemic? Now’s the perfect time to pick up that YA novel, binge that reality show, start that kdrama, or rewatch all six seasons of The Sopranos again.

______________________________________________

下個禮拜會下雨.

“It’s going to rain next week.”

4. Be informed about what’s ahead. If you ask either of my parents about the weather at any given time they can reliably tell you the daily percent chance of precipitation and humidity for at least seven days out. They’ve always been this way. They would inform me of the weather at various points throughout the week. They planned their yard work and car washes around the weather forecast. There’s something about the way the weather forecast is available to everyone. And it feels like it’s just a matter of making the small extra effort to access it and gain a slight advantage. I feel like so much of the immigrant mentality is to be diligent in making the right choices to not screw yourself over and seizing opportunities whenever you can. And it wasn’t just weather but this is such an obvious example of it. 

I remember my dad saying to me once, "Can you imagine if someone decided to read every book in their local library? If they just went shelf by shelf and systematically read all the books? You could do it, you know. It’s free, it doesn’t cost any money to check out a book from the library. But no one really does it.” 

I think immigrant parents get a bad reputation for forwarding chain letters and health/science hoaxes they get on email, WeChat and Line. And in a pandemic, yes, they are definitely susceptible to misinformation, rumors and flat out untruths. But the thought behind it seems right. 

The mistrust of government leadership is actually quite relevant right now in this pandemic. Many immigrants left countries with governments that were overtly corrupt, oppressive, and used propaganda to influence its citizens. And while many Americans still take pride in living in a country that verbally champions freedom and democracy, the truth is that our government has already failed us and lied to us in many ways. During this pandemic, we cannot wait on leaders to tell us what to do. We must be diligent in reading for ourselves, seeking experts, using our critical thinking skills, and making preparations accordingly.

______________________________________________

會不會冷?

“Are you cold?” 

5. Check in with yourself. Check in with others. I have so many memories of my parents walking through the living room and asking me and my sisters if we were cold. It felt like they couldn’t walk past the thermostat without asking us if they needed to raise it or lower it. As if they couldn’t hear us sneeze and wonder if they needed to turn off the ceiling fan. They couldn’t see us sitting in a dim room without turning on a light for us. There are so many times I fell asleep reading on the couch and woke up with a blanket over me. Or sometimes I was fully awake doing something random, like playing Egyptian Rat Screw with my sisters (a cardgame for the uninitiated), and my mom would walk by and wordlessly drop a warm, heavy blanket over my shoulders. That’s care, y’all. Consistent, immediate action, and often without words.  

The tip here is to pay attention to your discomfort during a pandemic. There’s this immigrant stereotype of stoicism and that’s true to some degree but maybe the resilience is made possible not because of unnatural toughness but largely because immigrant parents can also be so incredibly perceptive and tender in some very tangible ways. 

When everything is chaotic around you and you’re busy multitasking these next few months, don’t ignore your needs. Notice how you’re feeling. Physically and emotionally. Where are you carrying your stress and tension in your body? You don’t have to tough it out. Oh and remember to check in with your people on how they’re feeling. Is there a light switch you can turn on for someone? 

______________________________________________

笑死人.

“Laugh to death.” 

6. Laugh to survive. Look, we didn’t have the perfect family or anything like that. We’ve definitely had our share of difficult times, financial stress, health issues, arguments, and pain. But my parents also really knew how to laugh and taught us to laugh with abandon. Like, bent over, tears running out of your eyes, can’t breathe kind of laughing. Our dinner table was kind of like a writer’s room. It was difficult to tell a mediocre story. You had better come prepared with a punchline or a point. It was a tough crowd, every night. On many occasions I stopped myself halfway through a story upon the self-realization that there was no real way to land the plane. Polite laughs were nowhere to be found, except perhaps a charitable smile from my baby sister. But it didn’t stop us from trying. I think my sisters and I are all probably better storytellers for it and we definitely have learned to try to bring humor into difficult times.  

I know that this pandemic is so incredibly dark and depressing that it can sometimes feel disrespectful, inappropriate, or childish to laugh at anything. But my parents taught me that you laugh to survive. Nothing is ever so dark that you can’t find a reason to laugh. And sometimes you really need to find something to laugh about.

I’ve been taking long breaks each day from major media news outlets but I have been finding such joy and laughter from the meme creators on IG and the comedic geniuses on Twitter. In Taiwanese when something’s really funny, people will say a phrase that is imperfectly translated as laugh to death. Like you killed a person it was so funny. Now’s the time to find that content or those people who will get you to laugh to death. 

______________________________________________

我要去挪車.

“I’m going to go re-park the cars.” 

7. Go to bed with a plan for the next morning. I grew up in a suburb of Houston, Texas where one property developer built the entire neighborhood and used the same eight or nine floor plans for all the houses but changed up the brick and trim color to keep things interesting. Most homes have a long driveway that connects a garage set near the backdoor of a home to the street. By the time I was driving, we had four cars in total -- two in the garage and two on the driveway. At the end of the day when everyone was home for the night and my dad was getting ready to go to bed, he’d announce, “I’m going to go re-park the cars.” Then we’d all kind of stop what we were doing and rearrange the order of the cars to match our morning departure schedules. This meant figuring out who was leaving when in the morning and sometimes also prompted brief check-in conversations about any changes in our usual routine. 

In a pandemic it can sometimes feel like there are a million different things to attend to and large conceptual concerns that demand your attention. But there’s something calming and centering about spending a few minutes each night thinking through specifically what needs to happen just tomorrow. Not the day after or next week. Get super tactical and specific about what tomorrow morning looks like. Check-in with your partner about any aberrations to your schedule (e.g. I have a super important conference call at 7am tomorrow) to minimize any unnecessary surprises. There’s something magical about setting up your morning that helps you rest just a little easier at night. 

______________________________________________

星期三我們有禱告會.

“On Wednesdays we have prayer meeting.”

8. Make time for your spirituality. Growing up my parents both had physically demanding jobs. My mom was a seamstress for many years, providing alterations at my aunt and uncle’s dry cleaners. She later worked in an elementary school cafeteria and then eventually became a classroom aide for special needs students. My dad worked at that same dry cleaners for years until he got a job at the post office. He then became a letter carrier, delivering mail on foot. The summer months were especially grueling, carrying a heavy sack of mail in 100 degree, humid weather, and walking until sweat soaked his shirts and blisters formed on his feet. They had every excuse to skip weeknight events. But unless they were sick in bed, I can’t remember a time when they missed their weekly prayer meeting with their friends from church.  

Pandemics have an unsettling way of forcing us to confront our mortality and can trigger a bunch of unresolved shit that has been bubbling underneath the surface. We’ve lost some of our usual coping mechanisms and it can be super hard to quiet the anxieties, fears, and other demons that we usually try to keep under control. This isn’t a lecture about a particular faith or belief system. It’s just a reminder to prioritize your existential questions, your interior life, and your connection to things much bigger than yourself -- whether that’s a community, a yoga practice, a faith group, a tradition, or something else. 

I have a fledgling meditation practice that I’ve been trying to strengthen since last year. When I say fledgling I mean that sometimes I bail before the ten minutes is up and check my phone. Even though I’m not very good at it yet, I can really tell the difference on the days that I make time for it. Our church started hosting its weekly Sunday service online and that’s challenging for me because a church service feels like it’s designed to be so much about the physical rhythm of going to a place, seeing faces of people I love, hearing their voices co-mingling with mine in song and in prayer, and tasting the bread and wine in my mouth. The online service was short, and just for viewing through a zoom conference call, but there was still something meaningful about setting aside that time Sunday morning, asking our wiggly kids to be present, and saying the liturgy out loud knowing that in homes all across the country, other people are doing the same. 

If things are really going to get as bad as some are predicting, we’ll need the spiritual strength to make it to the other side. Those habits are hard to form overnight. My parents taught me that you really have to make the time for your spirituality non-negotiable, so that you won’t abandon it when it’s inconvenient or when you are too tired.    

______________________________________________

沒辦法.

“What choice do we have?” 

9. Rise to the occasion. Whenever my parents are telling old war stories about things they had to do to get to where they are today, inevitably one of us will say, “Man that’s crazy, how did you manage to do it?” And instead of pointing to some super personality trait of theirs or some complex self-help principle, they always say, “We had no choice.” It’s not said in a defeated way, but in a posture of accepting that life can be cruel, unfair, and capricious. And that it’s not helpful to dwell too long on the why’s and how’s. My parents taught me that you can’t stay in despair mode. You eventually have to push yourself into problem solving mode and you do whatever it takes to move forward.  

This coronavirus is so unlike anything we’ve ever experienced in our lifetime. It is so unprecedented for me that my brain is having a hard time processing the reality of what’s happening right now and the rest of my lived experience. I spent the first few days of this week just being overwhelmed, anxious, angry, and irritable. At this point though, I’m in go mode. I’m doing what needs to be done for our family and taking care of business. What choice do we have? I can hear my parents saying it. One day, if we’re lucky, we’ll say it to our kids too. 

[meowtalhead]

How to Make an Orange White Chocolate Mac and Cheese Cake

Ingredients:

For the Cake

-flour

-sugar

-white chocolate chips

-water

-buttermilk

-I'm like 60% sure there's some oil in it

-wait never mind no there isn't

-three eggs

For the White Chocolate Mousse

-heavy whipping cream

-NOT regular half and half cream

-powdered sugar

-more water and white chocolate

For the Mac and Cheese

-my top secret recipe shall not be revealed here

-whatever your own mac and cheese recipe is, make that instead

-I apologize for the inconvenience

General/other stuff

-three oranges but you'll only use one

-orange marmalade

-even more water and white chocolate

Step 1: Sometimes someone will tell you that cheddar cheese and chocolate never mix in any context no matter what and just won't taste good together, ever. Disagree, and hold onto this grudge for roughly half a year until you're home from college and it's the middle of summer. Invite over friends 1, 2, and 3. They deserve the chance to see this absolute disaster in motion.

Step 2: go on a nice little adventure to your local grocery store to buy the ingredients with friends one and two! Friend 3 apparently isn't getting here until late, and will most likely arrive with a large bag of doritos and/or some video games

Step 3: make the mac and cheese, throw some orange zest in it

Step 4: time to make the cake! Flour, sugar, white chocolate chips, wa- SHIT! you're supposed to MELT the white chocolate into the water and THEN mix it in! Brother pauses video games specifically to come into the kitchen and make fun of you for this.

Step 5: Brother watches in amusement as you pick each individual white chocolate chip out of the mixture with your hands. He waits a full five minutes before spontaneously getting mad at you for not using a strainer or something. You're certainly not going to use a strainer now because you've committed to this slow, careful chocolate removal process already!

Step 6: melt the white chocolate in the water. Actually that doesn't look like enough. Melt MORE white chocolate into it. Hmm. Fuck it. Melt as much chocolate into the water as possible and dump the rest of the white chocolate chips into the batter, ignoring your brother's protests! This is a good idea. Friend 1 seems anxious. Friend 2 is amused.

Step 6: add the buttermilk. Hmm. Never used buttermilk in anything before. It sounds nice. It has the words butter and milk in it. It probably tastes like heavy cream but more buttery, or a buttery melted vanilla ice cream. It's in pancakes and waffles and stuff like that. Drink some buttermilk. Just to know what it tastes like. It must be really good.

Step 7: spend roughly 2 minutes making noises like a cat choking on plastic as friend 2 laughs hysterically and brother makes a big deal of "I told you so" and "I'm better at baking cakes than you"

Step 8: shout "FUCK THIS, I'M GONNA PUT THREE EGGS IN IT!" much to the amusement of friend 2. Realize you're out of eggs because your brother ate the last few yesterday.

Step 9: friend 3 shows up right as you and friends 1 and 2 are about to go back to the store and buy some eggs. Friend 3 notices your mom's soda stream and opts to sit out of the grocery store adventure in favor of finding out how many liquids in your house can be carbonated, with help from your brother of course. The two should never be left together unsupervised, but you need eggs, and it will probably be fine.

Step 10: go off to buy the eggs! Friend 1, who can drive and has good music taste, puts on a mix of various punk and metal bands. Mostly MCR, Green Day, and Beartooth.

Step 11: return with the eggs. Fortunately, the soda stream ran out of carbon before friend 3 and brother could carbonate the maple syrup or the tomato sauce. Unfortunately, there is now milk everywhere. The two of them clean up the milk.

Step 12: put the eggs in the batter and mix it together! Taste the batter. Needs more chocolate. Dump half the second package of chocolate chips into it.

Step 13: put so much orange zest in the batter that friend 1 goes from anxious to fearful, warning you that a little zest goes a long way. Then divide it into two pans and put it in the oven.

Step 14: turn around and witness your brother trying to see how many pretzel sticks he can shove into friend 3's mouth. Warn them that what they're doing is a choking hazard. Friend 3 tries to insist he's okay, but his words are unintelligible. Tell him again to remove the pretzels. He bites through them like a snapping turtle biting somebody's finger off and goes "see, I told you I was okay!" This sends a cascade of crumbs and pretzel halves all over the couch. Friend 2 wakes up from a nap on the nearby reclining chair just long enough to laugh at this before immediately falling back asleep.

Step 15: layer the cake and the mac and cheese. Not like that. Oh no. The cake is gonna be a little lumpy now but that's ok because it will still taste good!

Step 16: time to start the mousse! First whip some heavy cream until it has stiff peaks. We don't have heavy cream. First whip the half and half cream until it has stiff peaks!

Step 17: contemplate the effect your poor planning skills may have on other areas of your life.

Step 18: calmly and wordlessly pour the half and half cream from the bowl into a coffee mug, then drink the whole thing like an old sea captain might down a large glass of whiskey to temporarily forget the sinking of his beloved ship.

Step 19: grocery store adventure part 3

Step 20: whip the half and half cream, add the sugar, melt some white chocolate, and- FUCK!!! This isn't a mousse at all! You were supposed to let the chocolate cool first. Now the cream is all curdled and watery! It looks like a bad whipped cream soup! Well, it still tastes good. So it's going on top of the cake anyway.

Step 21: melt some orange marmalade and white chocolate together to create a glaze to go on top. A glaze which will apparently melt the not-mousse, producing a sweet, sticky ring of disgusting looking foamy liquid around the base of the cake. It's completely fine though! Just looks like Halloween when you carve a pumpkin and the slimy pumpkin guts get everywhere.

Step 22: whoa! This cake is actually really good! And now you know what NOT to do next time around! Everyone takes a slice, except for the ever-disapproving brother who refuses to believe it can possibly taste good.

Enjoy!

Note: it is not recommended to leave the cake unattended for any longer than 12 hours. Dads will eat anything and everything they find in the kitchen

[jveleno]

every time i think about the trope of childhood best friends who get together later on, i get so teary eyed because it reminds of dylan and zach. being each other's first kiss as a joke which turns into mutual pining then first love to first heartbreak. eventually they find their way back to each other because you never forget your first love.

Zach is Dylan’s first best friend.

That’s not to say that Dylan doesn’t have friends before, or even best friends, but there’s a difference between being in kindergarten and calling Louis his best friend because Louis shared a blue crayon with him, and being a 10-year-old and playing with Zach and feeling Zach in every corner of his consciousness. They play together on the ice, carpool together to and from the rink, watch games together, and go to school together.

Dylan sleeps over at the Werenskis’ a lot, shamelessly eating Zach’s goldfish and Doritos and getting crumbs on Zach’s bed, which Zach complains about as he brushes the crumbs carefully off his covers and into his cupped hand to avoid getting food on the floor.

“You’re a neat freak,” Dylan says, and then he calls Zach a freak again, fondly, and Zach gives him a flat stare and trips him at practice the next day.

Zach is Dylan’s first kiss.

It starts with a kiss, a joke really. They’re in high school in Ann Arbor, and the kids in school know them as the guys lighting it up in the U.S. program. They get invited to a lot of parties. There’s always booze at the parties, and Dylan is a lightweight. He’s sixteen.

He thinks that Zach might be less drunk, but there are two spots of color high on Zach’s cheeks, and he looks flustered and a little hot in his sweater, hair rumpled. He’s still growing into his face, and Dylan thinks that he loves him.

There’s a joke, a laugh, a semi-drunk kiss that turns into hot breaths against each other’s mouths, and then another laugh, more forced and less happy as they pull apart.

Zach is Dylan’s first boyfriend.

They pine for a year after the kiss, like stupid idiots, before Zach breaks the news that he’s committed to Michigan. It’s late, late news, coming long after everyone else has already committed, but he’s never been the type to rush into making big decisions. And this is a big decision.

Dylan takes him out for a celebratory dinner because Wolverines together, forever, and Zach presses his feet against Dylan’s under the table. One of them pays the bill and the other pays for ice cream on the walk back home, and it’s easy to lean in for that second kiss, or rather, their first kiss done right.

“Was this a date?” Zach asks, and Dylan shrugs and kisses him again.

Yes, the kiss is saying, because there’s no other way to read this.

Zach is Dylan’s first breakup.

It comes in pieces at first and then all at once, the distance between Detroit and Columbus eating them up until one day when it all falls apart like the pieces of Dylan’s grandma’s glass fruit bowl, which Zach had dropped when he was seven, thick chunks of glass spraying everywhere.

Dylan had been shocked frozen at the time, and he feels the same now, even as a part of him knows that this was sort of inevitable.

They don’t say anything to each other, stop texting and calling and talking about each other to their friends, which is awkward because all of Dylan’s friends are also Zach’s friends, and the NHL is a small, small world. Columbus beats the shit out of Detroit in back-to-back games, and Dylan fumes quietly and hurts inside and out, bruises on his ribs and on his heart from the weight of Zach existing and Dylan being untethered from him.

It’s a neat little breakup, except for the fact that Dylan hurts in all the quiet, agonizing ways that he never shows anyone.

Zach is Dylan’s first makeup.

Dylan has a sort of rule that he never gets back together with his exes, and he doesn’t have a ton of exes, but he’s been pretty good with that rule. All the lonely boys and smiling girls who came after Zach had come and gone, and Dylan has never, ever gone back for any of them.

But a few years after Zach—After Zach, AZ, capital letters—Dylan finds a memento from their earlier years, takes a picture of it and sends it to Zach, and adds a funny little caption inviting Zach to laugh about it with him. Zach texts him back, and Dylan sends another text, and they’re talking again, easygoing and easy-flowing, clicking back together again.

Zach kisses him a few months after that when they meet up for dinner before a Wings-Jackets game, and Dylan gets a fistful of Zach’s jacket collar and hauls him closer, feels sixteen again and high on expensive wine and the familiar taste of Zach’s mouth.

“Hey,” Zach says, hoarse and whispered. “Missed you.”

“I know. Me too,” Dylan says. He’s never been a liar, not to Zach. He already knows they’re falling back into old patterns, and he’s not afraid. “Come back to mine tonight?”

Zach knows the way. He threads his fingers through Dylan’s and leads him home.

[alltheimaginationofme]

A Different Kind Of Glasgow Kiss- Drew McIntyre

Lil’ bit of Drew loving, not requested but oh so needed!

Tags: @blondekel77 @calwitch @chanelxberlinstark @briqueenofthenorth @fioportella @wrestlingfae @whocares006 @dancefaeirie @ramsaypants @alibob687 @lunarchaosqueen @keepyourdreamsalive @meremaidqueen @demonqueen29

 WARNING SMUT AHEAD

P.S: Let me know how I did with it!

Dolph was a pain in the ass. He couldn’t ever keep his hands to himself or his nose out of other people’s business. Since his return, he’d been nothing but trouble for everyone backstage, but he apparently took a liking to me in particular. I think because I didn’t take his shit without giving some back made it a challenge to him.

But where I’m from, you don’t back down.

“Hey sweetness, wanna go for a drink? Or should I say shall we go for a tea break?” Dolph swung himself onto the nearest crate that I was folding clothes on and I rolled my eyes at his attempt at an English dig. Another annoying aspect of Dolph was his relentlessness. Now he KNEW he could get a rise out of me- he never stopped until he did. I collected the pile of clothes and ignored him, turning to another stack that needed my attention. “Comeon babygirl, you don’t need a big red bus- I’ll give you a tour of me for free.” He cackled at his own joke and I cringed, it only ever seemed to be London jokes with him. Dolph jumped from his crate and into the seat that I was going to put clothes in. “You can’t hold out on me forever, I know you. Maybe I should ask my Scottish friend for tips?” He wriggled his eyebrows at me and I sighed.

“Perhaps I should ask your Scottish babysitter to come pick you up, we all know you get annoying when you drink too much Mountain Dew” Dolph grinned in triumph at me and I frowned, I usually lasted longer than that against him. It was whenever he brought up the skulking Scotsman I always tried to end the conversation early. There was something about Drew that I couldn’t shake, he was like kryptonite to me. Obviously the large man was insanely attractive, but whenever he was around me I just seemed to freeze.

I grunted at Dolph’s grinning face “Get outta here Ziggler, some of us have work to do.” Dolph got right up in my space and murmured “And some of us wish that work was on a rather large and heavily accented man.” His face was close to mine, and the temptation to head-butt him was astounding. If I did that, I would lose my job and the game would be up- no doubt Dolph would make a public scene to further add to my discomfort. So I played him at his own game.

“Actually Dolph, I was rather hoping for someone smaller, blonde, shit eating grin… And definitely can’t tell the difference between Dorito orange and sunkissed tan.” I put my hand on his shoulder and pushed past him, laughing as he spluttered for a comeback.

Apparently, Dolph would get his revenge a week later in the form of a wardrobe malfunction. When I arrived to his call I was beyond shocked to learn it wasn’t Ziggler with the problem- it was his partner. My eyes widened when Drew held out his trunks to me and looked almost apologetic. I narrowed my eyes at the trunks, the split was too clean to be wear-and-tear. Dolph snickered in the corner and I sighed, of course he would cut the trunks. “No problem McIntyre, give me 10 minutes tops.” I took the clothing and turned from the room, not giving either man a chance to speak. Dolph would only anger me, and Drew would only make walking away more difficult.

I sat at the sewing station about 3 minutes later and was beginning the repairs on the trunks when someone walked up behind me. It could honestly be anyone in this department, but when I felt someone leaning over my shoulder I bristled. “Repairs for Drew McIntyre.” I didn’t look up from my work and the person was still there when they spoke “Aye love, I came ta see how ya were doin”

I froze. Luckily I was sat down, or else that voice curling around me would’ve made my knees weak. Drew walked to the side of my work station, grabbed a chair from another and sat. He motioned with his hand and I shook myself out of the stupor and began to work again.

The work wasn’t actually difficult, I was just making sure I checked and rechecked everything in front of him- I didn’t want anyone complaining about my handiwork. Drew had sat and watched silently the entire time, and although he was trying his best to be quiet he still cut an imposing figure watching me work.

When I was finished, I held the trunks to him and avoided making eye contact with him. He grunted and stood, towering over me. I felt him hesitate and he took the trunks gently, our fingers stroking as he did so and I shivered. “Thank ya love” His deep timbre vibrated through my body and I nodded, almost closing my eyes at it. I didn’t see his grin as he walked away. I was too busy trying to remain calm after staring at his thighs for the past 5 minutes.

I managed to avoid Dolph for the rest of the night, meaning that I also avoided the Scotsman. It was a relief to be able to get work done without Ziggler bombarding me with cheesy lines, but it also meant that I wasn’t able to ogle Drew either. Clouds and silver linings I suppose.

I couldn’t get Drew’s soft voice out of my head. He spoke with such a harsh accent but made it sound almost melodious when it wrapped around words. The small interactions we had made my mouth water, the size and look of him made my thighs tighten. He had the look of a life ruiner in all the best ways about him.

I rounded the corner with armfuls of clothes and gear when I head Dolph’s laugh. I backed off into the corner and willed myself to not be seen by the irritating Ohioan. “Man, what more can I do for you? I’m annoying her in every way possible and dropping you in every conversation! Ya know she only reacts when I mention you anyway…”  Dolph faded into background noise as my face started to become redder. Dolph KNEW he was being an annoying kid! But he was doing it for a reason…

I left it for a while before I came out of my hiding place, walking with a purpose towards my destination- with a lot of questions about what I had just heard. Who the hell had he been talking to?

 I got my answer soon enough in the form of Ziggler. From what I had heard, the sweaty orange man had just lost his title and from the defeated sigh and slump into a chair he had lost something else as well. “You’re getting fake tan everywhere Ziggler.” Was my only comment to him. It was odd to see Dolph without his usual bravado about him, and I wanted to feel bad for the title loss but I just couldn’t bring myself to care. He rubbed his hands across his face and looked at me “He’ll kill me for this, but I just lost because of him.”

I raised an eyebrow at the pronoun game, and guessed he was talking about the Scottish Terminator. Dolph leaned forward and shook his hair out of his face. “He likes you. Like, LIKES you. He’s too much of a wimp to say anything.” He smiled sadly at me “I already know you like him too sweetness. I promise I’m not actually this much of an asshat…” He smiled into the distance and stood from the chair. He clapped me on the shoulder as he went past, I had long since stopped folding ring gear into the box. My eyes glazed over and I thought about what Ziggler had said- Drew actually liked me! Me! I smiled to myself, perhaps the awkward McIntyre was explanatory, but it made him adorable to watch me work.

I finished my work for the night with a smile on my face, partly because I was Ziggler free. Mostly because of the secret Dolph had told me, but I was slightly concerned that I hadn’t seen Drew. It was unusual backstage to have one tag partner away from the other in case they made a last minute change to story.

I had been heading out to the car park when I heard him.

“Hey love, ya fancy letting a Scottsman in yer ride?” Drew looked sheepish, his hands stuffed down his front pockets and a few strands of hair hung in his face. I smiled to him and gestured towards the car. He grinned and moved his case towards it. I finished loading up and got in the drivers’ seat, giving him time before I grilled him. I didn’t have time, as Drew had to fold himself into the car to even fit and I burst out laughing. Still chuckling, I reached over his lap and pulled the bar at the side of the chair to slide it backwards for him- Drew had tensed the entire time. I dared to look into his face and dark eyes met my gaze.

I lost my nerve at his look and slowly returned to my seat, starting the car and focusing on driving to the hotel. On the way there I saw Drew look over at me a few times and go to say something, only to purse his lips and look away again. I didn’t want to bring up what Dolph had said, but other than that we hadn’t really spoken before.

We pulled up in the parking lot of the hotel and Drew grabbed the bags from the car while I was checking in. Our rooms were on the same floor. It felt nice walking side by side with Drew, he had this air around him that nobody messed with- he was calm but radiated power. I snuck a peak up at him as we entered the elevator to see he was peeking down at me too. We both laughed and I burned red.

“Drew… What happened with Dolph?” I don’t know what prompted me to suddenly turn so serious, but it tumbled from my mouth before I could stop it. I felt him freeze next to me. He sighed and I ducked my head, wishing I hadn’t said anything to him.

“Ziggler and I… Never really got on. Tha locker room stuff was all we agreed on, and even then my opinion differed.” Drew tucked some hair behind his ears. “He wanted ta be more aggressive. I got tired of being such a bad guy. I still am a bad guy, jus aimed different.” He smiled sadly at me, and I had a feeling that he was giving me the polite version of what happened. I knew that some politics happened backstage, but I was never privy to knowing the details.

Drew’s hand reached out and smoothed my hair out of my face, his fingers lingered on my cheek and I took a breath in. “I kinda want different things now.” My breath stopped altogether at that. There’s no way I could be misreading things, so I went all in.

I had to go on my toes, and even then I wasn’t tall enough to reach his lips- luckily for me he lent down to me and we met halfway. Drew’s beard tickled my face and his lips were a soft contrast to the hair, caressing mine in a dance that saw me loose but I still ended up with his tongue in my mouth. Drew’s hands could completely cover half of my face, but he cradled my head and was so gentle like I was something he was scared to break. The doors opened and we broke the kiss for me to ask one question:

“Your room or mine?”

Drew smiled “Whicheva we get to first.” I grinned back at him and grabbed his hand. Yes I ran down the hall and he barely got past a speed walk with his legs, but I doubt anyone would laugh at us right now. My room appeared first and I thanked God when we came upon it, I was shoving the card in every direction at the lock for it to open while Drew kissed down my neck. “You’re not helping here” I was breathless, and not from the brief sprint.

When the door finally opened, Drew picked me up from behind and carried me into the room- somehow managing to drag the bags in after us. I was thrown on the bed and promptly began to undress. It seemed Drew liked the competition as he raced me to get down to nothing.

I stopped as Drew was taking his trousers off. The man was thicker than a tree and endless apparently. The situation dawned on me, I was about to get into bed with a guy that I had been crushing on for months.

Drew took me in his arms and wrapped himself around me. He kissed me softly and smiled down at me “This’ll only go as far as ya want it.” My own smile turned playful and I stepped closer to him “And how much do you want it Drew?” My smile soon disappeared as he took my hand and placed it over his boxers, onto his cock that did not disappoint. I licked my lips and kissed him. Drew took that as his confirmation and picked me up to put me on the bed.

“Ah, can’t wait to be inside ya” I noticed his accent got thicker the more turned on he was, and suddenly the accent that made me weak in the knees had me wetter than a cup of water. I pulled his face back down to me as he settled between my legs. His tongue explored my mouth and I rose from the bed to meet his hips. Drew started to trail his mouth down my neck and found a particular spot before grinding his hips down into me. The feeling of him made me rake my nails down his back, the moan he let out in reply vibrated through me.

His mouth had made its way down to my chest and his hands could cover the entirety of my small amount of boob to offer. Drew’s tongue circled a nipple whilst his hand massaged the other. I moaned up into his touch when he began to suck on one and my hands ran down to his last article of clothing- I tugged on the waistband.

Drew’s face moved back up to mine and he looked into my eyes. He seemed to be searching for something, and when I met his gaze the entire time he smiled. We rolled apart and stripped the last bits of clothes covering ourselves. My thong had just dropped to the floor when Drew’s arm wrapped around my waist again and dragged me onto the bed.

I landed underneath him and he settled between my legs again. “Ah would love to be slow…” As he spoke he dragged a finger through my folds and made me whimper. “I think we both need this.” He spoke with finality and I reached up to bite his lip. He kissed me with his full force and I felt myself get pushed back into the bed. The fact that he would be in me doing that soon was enough to make me lightheaded.

Drew rolled his hips and guided the tip of his cock in my folds, coating it before he found my entrance. I held my breath. With another roll that screamed experience he pushed inside me. I arched up and moaned in his ear, the feeling of being stretched yet perfectly full made me gasp. No one else had ever felt like this to me. I doubt there had ever been anyone as big as Drew was either. When he was fully in me he groaned and hung his head.

I became impatient underneath him and rocked my hips into his, Drew cursed and began to pump slowly. We both began to moan in tandem as he picked up his pace, our kissed became sloppy and open mouthed. Each time I came out for air his lips found mine to steal it again. Even with all of this going on, I still felt the need to tease.

“Go harder, I’m not going to break Drew.”

I whispered them into his ear and he growled, the look of passion gone from his face. His hands grasped my hips and turned me over onto my stomach. My face was stuffed into the mattress, and before I could say anything, Drew was pounding into me with renewed vigour. Each time he bottomed out my hips were pushed further into the bed, and I could’ve swore at one point I was bowed with the force he put into it.

It wasn’t a surprise that I didn’t last long with the enthusiasm he was putting in, but when I did come it was a shock. I screamed until my throat was sore and it went black behind my eyes. Drew was relentless, not stopping until I went lax on the bed. He stuttered after one thrust and grit out through his teeth “Where do ya want it”. I managed to lift my head and look over my shoulder to whisper “Inside” He grunted his approval and I dropped my head again, my hands gripping the sheets as he continued. I could hear him taking deep breaths now, trying to last longer.

Drew came with a shout and dug his teeth in my shoulder blade, slamming in with finality. I cried out at the feel of his bite and the come slowly spreading into me. Drew’s arms were shaking as he rolled to his side and began to cuddle me from behind. I felt exhausted. Before I could fully drift into sleep I thought would tease him once more. “I could get used to those kind of Glasgow kisses.” I felt him chuckle behind me.

“Aye love, I’ll wake ya up with one.”

[voodoosgirl1]

That Time Sam Confiscated Bucky’s Sleep Pants For the Good of the Team...Or So He Thought.

Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers

Bucky wore his Official Captain America fleece sleep pants every day.  His love for them exceeded all boundaries. Except for Steve. Nothing topped Steve, not sleep pants, not food. Not Bucky, although they were in discussions about that particular point.

Their appearance in the house a low-key affair shrouded in the mists of memory similar to the elusive Origin Stories of fortune cookies, crop circles, and key lime pie. Steve claimed no knowledge of their arrival, Bucky said he found them folded neatly on the kitchen counter one day; an instantaneous invoking of finder’s keepers. Sam waved his hands in the air looking a lot like he was swatting flies. Natasha shrugged, a non-committal gesture not lost on Steve’s keen eye, ignored by Sam and missed by Bucky as he wandered off to permanently attach them to his body.

Dark blue with tiny silver, white and red shields in a random swirling pattern, adorned with bright red Captain America cursively-written across the fabric, the signatures strategically embracing his junk.  Bucky’s bold statement of adoration clear as he sat legs spread wide on the sofa; or sprawled in the middle of the mahogany table in the tactical room --- during team briefings; or grappling with Steve pretty much everywhere. Bucky wanted to wear Steve twenty-four-seven.

The sleep pants soon became the accepted norm. Nat ignored them. Steve’s preference; how slow can fleece be dragged down Bucky’s body, across his groin, catching just right on his cock before he groans in frustration and pins him to the floor. His research a work in progress, ever being refined and edited. 

Steve loved the sleep pants.

Sam grew to despise them. 

It wasn’t jealousy or his claim to a more refined sense of style, or that Barnes’s predilection for going commando beneath them was on full display.  The sleep pants were innocuous enough, even while being worn by Barnes; daily, every minute of every day. Unlike Steve’s pumpkin-colored button down, the color didn’t interfere with the room décor. The comforting softness seemed to soothe Bucky’s more irritable moods. Sam’s loathing of the sleep pants grew exponentially with every moment they spent without ever seeing the inside of the washing machine. With the water running. Soap being involved as well.

Sam did not welcome the Cap sleep pants in the gym. A highly egregious offense since Sam used the mats to do push-ups; up and down, face to the mat, often face flat on the mat when he tried to keep up with that asshole Barnes. Herein lies Sam’s problem; not so much the sleep pants per se but their close association with the low huffed moans and groans of Steve/Bucky grappling on those specific gym mats that got Sam’s eye to twitching. The faux work-out sessions; yes, there would be the damp towel evidence in the corner, the faint sweat swirls on the flooring. The distinct rumbled, “Fuck me, Stevie” that wafted up through the heating grates coupled with Steve’s rhythmic groans, culminating in the loud, eye-popping audible evidence of Steve giving Bucky exactly what he asked for was all too much for Sam. Sex on the gym mats had nothing to do with the Captain America sleep pants, admittedly; they were guilty by association.

  Those sleep pants got right under his skin, collecting dirt, day-in, and day-out; absorbing sweat and other they-shall-remain-nameless Steve and Bucky body fluids that Sam did not want to allow into his imaginings, all deeply embedded in the microfibers of their pathetic existence. The final straw arrived unceremoniously when Sam walked in to see Bucky’s blue with white and red shielded sleep pants-clad butt perched on the kitchen island precariously close to lunch. Right butt cheek flirting with the sliced honey roasted turkey, aged swiss cheese, dill pickle, and arugula plated side dish. Steve tucked between his legs, hands roaming across skin much too exposed for Saturday afternoon brunch in mixed company. Sam's semi-considerable patience evaporated when Bucky's left butt cheek rolled to smoosh the spilled bag of bulkie rolls as Steve practiced his best face-to-face thrusting position, dragging Bucky closer by his knees. Natasha swiped a roll out from under Bucky's ass when he rocked forward chasing after Steve's mouth. Adaptability; a strong-suit of former Widows.

The whole thing merited one of Sam's best eye rolls and the fateful solo plan took form, to be mapped out and executed within hours. 

Sam Wilson for the good of his housemates and the protection of their health, under cover of darkness and the unabashed throes of wall-banging, bed squeaking sex between two well-endowed super soldiers, undertook the ultimate self-sacrificing mission. Obtain the offending garment and autoclave it, or at the very least soak them in bleach for a week. Falcon night-vision goggles strapped to his face, his best sneaking around clothes on his body, he belly crawled into Steve’s bedroom, the silent litany of “Don’t sweat, he’ll smell you,” dancing through his mind. He carefully, sneakily pulled the coveted Captain America sleep pants from the bedpost and stealth-crawled backward out of the room.

Sleep eluded Sam the rest of the night, the electric buzz of one-upping Barnes coursing through his veins. He was pretty damn proud of himself for this mission-accomplished moment. He braced for the aftermath.

A sweat-filled moment before dawn when Bucky confronted him in the living room, a tremor shaking his unbrushed hair, plain black sweats; Steve's sweats, a touch too long hanging low on his hips. Winter lurking in his intense stare, the desperate rasped question spoken an angry inch from Sam’s nose, "Did you steal my Cap pants, Wilson?"

An ignored fleeting second of remorse as Sam lied, "Nope. I did not steal your Cap pants, Barnes." Technically not a lie, the pants were not 'stolen' only confiscated.

Semantics. 

He attributed the queasy feeling in his gut to the bratwurst he had for breakfast, a greasy burp seemed to encourage Barnes to move on, which prompted a mental note to add burping to his anti-Barnes arsenal of tactics.

Sam spent the rest of the week alternately avoiding and observing Barnes literally tear the house apart searching for his beloved Cap sleep pants. A relaxing pensive lounging on the deck sipping his Pina Colada, quiet caution employed with the plastic faux palm tree stirrer after the first sip. He began to develop a whole new respect for Bucky’s throwing ability as pot after pan flew past his head; a self-imposed challenge not to flinch as the projectiles zinged past his ear, stirring the air against his skin. A lasagna pan landing fifty feet out, a moment of remorse that he hadn’t thought to set up a betting pool with Natasha about how far the various sized pots would fly, sort of like Olympic shot put only without the painted lines. A silent marvel at the strength of the metal arm when a frying pan lodged in a tree trunk a mile out.

Sam offered a frowny-face faux sympathy look when Bucky finally collapsed face-down on the kitchen floor three hours later despite Steve’s best efforts at persuasion to visit Amazon, under supervision of course. Natasha stepped over him, Sam tried not to stare. Steve laid head pressed to head with him. Ultimately, he dragged him across the floor by both hands, pulled him up to his feet, threw him over his shoulder and off to bed they went rocking the wall once again. 

Sam kept his regret a close-guarded secret, even from himself. Mostly it was a small tickle in the back of his brain that called him an asshole. Once. When Barnes drowned his sorrow soaking in the cold water tub, and Natasha had to run all the way to the basement bathroom, dancing as she went. The hot pissed I-know-what-you-did glare she threw his way, sent a shiver down his spine for about five minutes. That was the extent of his remorse. Three weeks later said sleep pants were discovered by Steve in a bucket of bleach on the back porch, a faded murk of blue and white, streaked with red threads hanging like the guts of roadkill. Utterly unrecognizable as an homage to the First Avenger. Sam, in a regrettable fit of guilt and remorse, admitted to the terrible deed. Needless to say, the aftermath was painful for all involved except Natasha who has a ton more sense than the boys and decided she’d lay low in Paris for a week and leave them to find their Kumbaya moment on their own. She padlocked her bedroom door, wired it to the electric socket and went on her man-free week unencumbered.

It took Steve thirty-six hours to find Bucky sitting in a tree overlooking the house, his loaded sniper rifle cradled in hand. Black shoe polish smeared across his face, a bag of Doritos tucked in the crook of a branch; he finally climbed down when Steve promised to have sex with him on the bike. The one spot they’d missed during the Great Flavored-Lubricant Sex-All-Over-the-House Experiment. It took a whole lot of scrubbing to get that black stuff off both their faces. 

As fate at times intervenes, Sam had a head cold while Bucky sought his revenge and dodged both figurative and real bullets by staying in the house the whole time. It helped that he restricted all movement to the dead center of the house with the lights off, relying again on his well-honed stealth skills. His mama didn’t raise a fool, he knew that damn sniper rifle had disappeared and wherever that Barrett M82 went --- Barnes would be in close proximity. 

That night, basking in the amber glow of a Himalayan Salt lamp, Sam Wilson laid his head on his pillow resting in the sweet arms of sleep, under the benevolent protection of the former Captain Ameria, now known as Nomad, aka Bucky's boyfriend. Normally the headboard's rhythmic thud against his wall got on his nerves, but not tonight, not this night, it told him he would be safe as long as the sounds of Steve demonstrating proper topping techniques for Bucky kept going all would be well in their little valley. 

[fromthebleedingpen]

It was a summer morning. I woke up but nothing felt right. I wanted to throw up but I got dressed anyway. Today was the big day and what fun is the school's sports meet without having it's captain in grey jersey. I was practicing for over 6 months for this basketball championship and finally the day was here. I rushed down in the kitchen and stuffed my mouth with boiled egg but..I wanted to puke. It was stinking. I was quite unfamiliar with this odour. It felt like something was rotting or..or was on fire. No wait..it smelt like decaying yeast or fungus on your bread? Ever tasted it? Yeah it was like that or may be..this was the smell of blood..the way your washroom stinks on day 2 of your menstruation. Anyways, whatever the smell was, it was terrible. I left my home in a hurry and to add to my joy, my school field was decorated beautifully. But this urge of puking..there was something wrong with me. I wasn't fine. I was hungry so where else to go when your school has an A grade canteen. A packet of Doritos was on my rescue. But the smell..the same smell was in there too. I couldn't bear to have a bite of it and threw it all away. And all of sudden I was trembling, burning hot with fever. I had no strength to play but I hopped in the field anyway. The day passed and not to my amazement, I lost the match. I couldn't even open my eyes. My head was thumping. I ran back to home in tears. It felt like the world was going to end. Ignoring my mother, I stepped into my room and shut the door close..loudly. This wierd smell was everywhere and I had to get rid of it. To my amazement, none of my friends smelt the same thing I did. For them, that packet of chips was perfectly fine. I took a deodorant and sprayed in my room and shockingly, that wierd disgusting odour heightened. It was unbearable and unbreathable. I fled into the washroom crying badly, choking. Pulled off my t-shirt and..I was shocked. The smell..the very smell was coming from me but nobody else could smell it. I took a quick bath pouring the full bottle of shower foam on me. My squeeky sobbings were loud in that tiny bathroom of mine. I couldn't stop my tears. (Read in Comments) (at Westminister Abbey, London, United Kingdom.) https://www.instagram.com/p/CIVI_qpFbEv/?igshid=6hira02rb4o7