#but it was too late so it would have to be taco bell which i also love dearly. or maybe mcdonalds

[no-one-hears-me]

random story idk why I feel like telling this. anyways. so like a month ago I was taking a good thorough shower like full shave and exfoliating my scalp type shower yk. so as I was exfoliating the inside of my belly button I was thinking to myself about how no man deserves to even LOOK at me etc etc. that type of shower. then later that night a man asked me to hang out and it was like 1am so we all know what kind of hang out session this would be. and obviously like noooooo wtf at least offer to take me to applebees first but at the same time I was like well. maybe I shouldn't let all my hard work go to waste

[chillian-murphy]

Let Your Big Brother Take Care of You

SUMMARY: While visiting your stepbrother at college, you have a hard time falling asleep after some drunken mishaps. He helps you out.

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

WARNINGS/ADDITIONAL INFO: Smut 🔞, dubcon, stepcest, intoxication, fingering, comfort sex kinda??, gratuitous mention of Taco Bell

Beta read by @sasybanana

Actually visiting with your step-brother had been the last thing on your mind when you told your parents that you would be visiting him this weekend. Sure, you got along fine, but you barely knew each other and it felt like he was moving out for college as soon as your families joined. Instead, you were hellbent on finding the best partying and hooking up opportunities his film school had to offer. Framing it as a sisterly visit and a chance to learn about campus life was purely an excuse to convince your parents to let you travel on your own, which they seemed to buy as you were headed off to school yourself next year. Besides, Neil had an off campus apartment you could crash at, which would be cheaper than a hotel.

He greeted you with a hug as you entered and set your stuff down, instantly being assaulted by the scent of unwashed laundry and old weed smoke. Still, it was comfortable enough, and was a nice taste of freedom from your mom’s house.

“So, my baby sister wants to visit me for the weekend, for reasons not at all related to my school’s reputation as a party campus?” He smirked as you situated yourself.

“Of course! Just like how my big brother spends all the money he gets from our parents on textbooks and tuition.” you shot back.

“Touché. Well, whatever trouble you’re determined to get into, fuck, I dunno, be smart about it. Use condoms, don’t get drugged. Don’t drink so much that you puke, or at least, try to puke somewhere other than carpet.”

“Wow… so caring.” you rolled your eyes as you headed to the bathroom to get ready for the evening. You snatched a flyer off of a phone pole for a house party, and the directions you got off google said it was only a few blocks away. As soon as you had your heels and your lashes on, you were off.

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

Stumbling back to Neil’s apartment with your heels in your hand, the night had been a bust. You finished too many mystery drinks too fast and ended up puking in the lap of the one guy who was interested in you, locked yourself in the bathroom to cry for the better part of an hour, and bolted for the door as soon as you pulled yourself together. Thank fuck Neil had the first apartment on the first floor, otherwise you might not have been able to find it in your impaired state.

The door was unlocked, and Neil hadn’t moved from his place on the couch in the hours that you had been gone, presumably wrapped up in whatever it is that he does in his spare time (Watch movies? Play video games? Jerk off? You really didn’t know). This was fine, you really didn’t need him noticing you at the moment. You tried to enter quietly, but tripped over yourself as you moved.

“Holy shit, are you okay?”

Neil rushed over to you to make sure you weren’t hurt. Unable to form words, you started crying again when you met his gaze, big fat mascara tears rolling down your cheeks. Even as he helped you to stand, you wobbled on your way up and had to lean on him for support.

“How much did you have to drink?”

“Dunno… a lot.” It was true, you had chugged whatever you were handed and helped yourself to a variety of half-finished cups that were abandoned by their owners. You had never drank this much before, and had no idea how much was too much until it was too late.

“Shit, um, let’s get you to the bed. The room is yours tonight, don’t worry about it. Do you think you can walk that far?” There was genuine concern in his tone, even if he was a bit panicked and clueless. He looped an arm around your waist and guided you as best he could to the tiny room. Your flop onto the twin bed wasn’t exactly graceful, but landing on a mattress was about a thousand times more comfortable than landing on the floor.

As soon as Neil turned to leave, you began fighting your way out of your tight, itchy dress. Unfortunately, the zipper was stuck (damn cheap clothing) and the garment was too fitted to pull over your head. Refusing to spend any more time stuck in scratchy fabric hell (Seriously, Forever 21, who sells unlined sequined dresses?), you continued wrestling with the zipper and wiggling to find a better angle until you rolled off the bed and landed with a thud. Not knowing what else to do, you shouted for your stepbrother.

The worried look on his face quickly turned into an eye roll as he entered the room and saw you on the floor again.

“So are you like… determined to spend the whole night down there? Undeniably attracted to shitty carpeting? Horny for the floor?” Having a laugh at your drunken expense might not have been the nicest thing for Neil to do, but you were being such a handful tonight.

“I can’t get my dress off,” you sheepishly mumbled as you avoided his gaze. “The zipper’s stuck and I need your help.”

“Hey, hey, it’s fine.” Neil soothed as he knelt down to meet you on the floor. “If anything, I’m flattered… Usually I have to buy a girl dinner before she even thinks of asking me to undress her.”

You shot him an unamused glare, but nonetheless turned and leaned towards him so he could reach the zipper. His touch was warm and gentle as he fiddled with the impossibly tiny hook-and-eye clasp atop the zipper, one hand gently pressed against your upper back to steady you while the other went to work. Before you knew it, the dress slackened and you were able to free yourself from its confines, modesty be damned.

“A tiny little dress and no bra? You really were planning to have fun tonight.” You were still turned away from Neil and couldn’t see his face, but you could hear the grin in his voice.

“It has built-in cups, pervert!” you huffed as you rushed to cover yourself. You groped around for a t-shirt or something before remembering that you were in an unfamiliar room and not at home. “Get out, I just wanna sleep.”

“That doesn’t explain the little lacy panties, though.” Neil let his eyes trail over you before tossing you one of his own shirts. It was true, you had gone out partying with the hope of hooking up as quickly and anonymously as possible, but you weren’t going to admit that. All you wanted was to gain a little sexual experience of your own before heading out to college, but now the only boy to see you naked was your weird stepbrother. “And I’m not leaving you alone tonight. You can’t even stand and I’ve had to help you up twice. You’re too much of a mess to be alone.”

He helped you onto the bed again, only this time he climbed in behind you after hitting the light. The bed was small enough that there was almost no choice but to snuggle up to him, using his shoulder as a pillow. As weird as the whole situation was, it felt nice having him there, like a grounding tether against the spinning sensation in your head.

“For what it’s worth, I thought you looked really cute tonight. Before all the puking and crying and falling, I mean.” He chuckled softly and pressed a kiss to the top of your head. As sweet as the gesture was, you couldn’t ignore the growing gurgle in your stomach.

“Neil… I want Taco Bell.”

“I’ll buy you all the Taco Bell in the world tomorrow if you settle down and go to sleep.”

“Okay…” you buried your face into the crook between Neil’s neck and shoulder as he pulled you closer and idly rubbed your back. You couldn’t help but moan softly at the sensation, which Neil tried his hardest to ignore.

Had you been a little more awake or a little more sober, you might’ve noticed the hitch in Neil’s breath as his hand trailed up and down your back, or the way his hand soon opened into a flat palm and started exploring lower, dangerously close to the waistband of your panties. Instead, you continued to lay silently, dozing off as his hand inched lower.

Eventually, his hand made its way to your ass and cupped the supple flesh. Feeling emboldened by your lack of response, Neil began to squeeze and knead. This made you squirm away, but in doing so, you were met with the perfect amount of friction as your clothed pussy rubbed against Neil’s thigh. Neither of you had realized just how closely you were snuggled together until now, when it dawned on you both what was happening.

Part of you panicked, part of you realizing that this was wrong through your drunken haze, but another part of you only cared that you were being touched, and it felt pleasurable. That was the whole reason you made this trip, right? you rationalized to yourself as you attempted to grind against your stepbrother’s thigh a second time. 

Instead of being met with the delicious friction, you felt Neil shift beneath you. Did you fuck this up? Were you just imagining his hand on your ass? But before you could worry any further, he was rolling you onto your back with his thick, firm leg pressing between your thighs and spreading them, and the unmistakable poking of his erection against the spot where your hip met your belly. He pushed his thigh against you, inviting you to grind it.

“Is this what my horny little sister needs? Can’t fall asleep without coming?” His voice was low and husky, in equal parts from being half asleep and his obvious arousal. You were starting to transition from drunk to hungover, feeling more drowsy and dizzy than anything else, and the most you could answer with was a pathetic little whimper as he nudged you.

You rubbed yourself against him as best you could, unable to find just the right angle from the new position you were placed in. In a fit of frustration, you tried pushing Neil off of you so you could rub yourself with your hand, but he was deceptively strong and had you pinned.

“Neeeeeeeeeiiiillllll” you whined, once again wondering if this was all a mistake, maybe you should just try to fall asleep and forget this ever happened. Forget the whole night ever happened. Change your name, move across the country, and never talk to anyone who witnessed tonight ever again.

“Shhhh, it’s alright, just lie there and let your big brother take care of you.”

Just lying there was about all you could do as Neil snaked one of arms between your legs, stroking your folds through your panties a bit aimlessly before gathering the courage to reach beneath the cloth and explore further. After a bit of awkward poking around, he found your clit and began circling it gently with his fingertips, eliciting another whimper, this time of pleasure.

“See? I know exactly what you need. M’gonna play with your little pussy until you relax and fall asleep, like a good girl.” His fingers began teasing your slit, tracing up and down its length without daring to breach inside. It never would have occurred to you that Neil would know his way around pussy, he never brought any girls home when he lived with you. He must’ve gotten a lot of practice after moving out, because the way his fingers were just barely ghosting over you was driving you crazy in a way you couldn’t understand. You wanted him to stop, you wanted him to continue exactly what he was doing, you wanted him to start giving you more. All you knew was that you wanted him, and for him to keep touching you.

As if he could read your mind, he spread your innermost lips and plunged two of his fingers inside. The stretch was sudden, but not at all unwelcome. You were wet enough for him to thrust his fingers in and out of you easily, spreading your slick wherever he touched. As soon as he began alternating between fucking you on his fingers and roughly toying with your clit, you started seeing stars.

“You like that? You like me finger fucking your tight little pussy? I wish I could see it, I bet it's all pink and cute, like your nipples. I bet you’ve never even taken a cock before."

Too drunk, too horny, and too tired to form words, the most you could do was shyly squeak in affirmation.

“Next time I’ll have you bounce on my cock so I can watch your face as you come. Or maybe I’ll eat you out so I can really get to see how cute your pussy is. Or maybe you’ll just want to pay back the favor I’m doing you now and suck me off.”

Next time? You hadn’t considered something like this happening again, or even the fact that you’d have to see him again. In mixed company. With your parents around. Would he fuck you in your childhood bedroom while everyone else was downstairs cooking dinner? Or would he keep your liaisons a dirty little secret that only happened away from home?

You didn’t care. You were coming from your stepbrother’s touch, in your stepbrother’s bed, far away from anyone else you knew. You felt your stomach tighten and your toes involuntarily curl, much stronger than you ever felt sneakily rubbing yourself in the shower. Thank fuck you were in a dark room, because you swore you could feel your face going all stupid.

You must not have realized how much you were panting and clenching around his fingers, because Neil seemed to know exactly how close you were and began whispering in your ear, encouraging you to come. You could barely register what he was saying, you were so lost in the sensation of his breath on your neck and his hand on your cunt.

Your orgasm finally took hold, and you could hear yourself babbling in pleasure but had no idea what you were saying, if you were even forming coherent words, as the pleasure ripped through your body like an electric shock. After the initial burst, you felt your body relax in a way you didn’t know was possible, releasing tension you didn’t even know you were holding. You swore you could feel yourself melting through the mattress before realizing that no, that was just sweat.

Noticing that you were lying there like a limp noodle and no longer squirming and moaning, Neil rolled off of you, withdrawing his hand from your panties. His fingers were completely soaked with your wetness, and while his initial instinct was to wipe them off on his shirt, roll over, and go to sleep, he couldn’t ignore the fact that he was rock hard. In a stroke of genius that would soon lead to literal stroking, he realized he had the perfect lube on hand.

He shoved his drenched hand down his boxers and began tugging his desperate member, softly grunting in rhythm with his pumping fist. Part of you felt bad that you weren’t helping, you had kinda forgotten that Neil was a complete person with desires of his own and not just a machine to get you off, but you were cozy and half asleep and he seemed to be handling the situation well enough on his own. At least, well enough that he was coming all over the front of his shirt.

He carefully pulled his soiled shirt over his head and wiped off his hand and what was left of his mess before tossing it on the floor and reaching for the blanket that had been kicked to the bottom of the bed amidst all the excitement. You felt yourself being tucked in as you gently dozed off, snuggling into Neil’s side as soon as he laid down beside you.

Yeah, you were going to visit your step brother a lot more often now.

[joelsbeard]

pre-outbreak!joel when you're pregnant ❤️ part 2

part 3

He would be the most supportive and sweetest man, going to every doctors appointment with you and keeping track of your baby's developmental milestones.

The first time you get an ultrasound of your baby he's at your side and holding your hand in both of his and periodically bringing it up to his mouth to kiss 🥺 and the both of you have tears in your eyes. You have the same reaction when you get to hear your baby's heartbeat for the first time, and you both swear you could listen to it for hours if you could, and he has his lips pressed to your hair while he tells you that he loves you 🥺. He looks so proud when you go back home and he puts the ultrasound on the fridge 🥺 and he has another copy that he likes to carry with him in his wallet or in the car.

You get an app to track how big your baby is getting every week, and he thinks you're so adorable when you update him to say "our baby is the size of a mango now!" or "the baby can probably hear us talking to her now!" 🥺

Speaking of which, he loves laying next to your belly and giving your baby girl kisses, and he's always talking to the baby lol. He always loves giving your belly a lil rub or keeping a hand on it or just holding it.

When you start to get bigger and your back gets more sore he always comes up behind you and lifts up your belly for you so you can relax and feel less pressure on your back ❤️

Luckily you both are at home when the baby has her first kicks, and as soon as you feel them you're yelling for him to come as quick as he can, he doesn't know why you're calling him in at first and he thinks something might be wrong but then you go " she just kicked!!! 🥺" and he rushes over to put his hand on your belly so both of you can feel her kicking ❤️ and both of yall are crying lmao

from then on she always kicks when she hears her daddy's voice or when he puts his hand on your belly bc ofc she recognizes her daddy ❤️

You go to the pool and the beach more often towards the end of your pregnancy so you can relax your sore body and just float in the water, and he'll dig you a lil belly sized hole in the sand so you can lay on your stomach ❤️

He always compliments you, saying stuff like "you look so beautiful and glowing and round with our baby and i love you 🥺❤️" and he reminds you of it more often when you start feeling down about how big your stomach is getting.

When he leaves the house he always likes to say bye to you and the baby 🥺 he'll squat down in front of your stomach to give it lil kiss and tells the baby not to give mommy too much trouble while he's gone.

After your first trimester and you start getting hornier (lmao) you start not just waking him up for your food cravings, but also when you're in the mood lol. One time you wake him up at 1 in the morning and you're like "babe! baby" and his cute sleepy ass turns and he's like "hm? do you want me to get you something from the store now? do you need anything?" fully expecting you to give him an order for pickles and ice cream or some late night taco bell, but then you're like "no, i'm horny and i need your dick :( can you please fuck me?" and he's all "aww is my baby bein needy right now?" and he's cooing to you n shit. It ends up being a very late night for you two lol.

When your belly gets big enough he loves seeing you waddle everywhere he thinks you're so adorable

Look at this adorable man he's such a sweetie omg ❤️ your mannnnn

damn these pregnancy hc's got me in a chokehold i don't even think im done with these yet. We need more pre-outbreak! joel with his pregnant baby mama!!!

[baelabong]

“I’m better”

Pairing: plastic!Karen Shetty x plastic!fem!reader

Warnings: Pining, kissing, jealous!Karen, flirty!reader, mentions of s3x, s3x jokes, crude language

—————————————————————————————————————

In the bustling cafeteria of North Shore High School, Karen Shetty and Gretchen Wieners occupied their usual spot, eagerly awaiting the arrival of Y/N and Regina George. Karen, tapping her perfectly manicured nails on the table, couldn't hide her impatience.

“It’s been five minutes ”, the curly haired girl sighed as she looked across the bustling cafeteria

“Mama, it’s fine. I’m sure she just got held back in class and can’t text you back”, Gretchen said as she patted Karen’s head

Gretchen, always attuned to Karen's whims, nodded sympathetically.

“Not but she’s also been taking up all of y/n’s attention lately. Ugh!”, Karen complained

Before Karen could delve deeper into her complaint, the cafeteria doors swung open, revealing Y/N and Regina strolling in arm in arm, their laughter filling the air. Karen's eyes widened, and she exchanged an exasperated glance with Gretchen. She sat on the edge of her seat and was ready for whatever excuse y/n was gonna say as to why she wasn’t replying.

Y/N and Regina approached the table, their infectious energy preceding them.

"Hey, losers. What’s the gossip also, we’re hanging at my house afterward”, the blonde girl spoke with authority

Karen, trying to mask her annoyance, put on her ditzy persona.

“Oh, you know just waiting for the two of you like always”

Y/N smirked knowingly, sensing the undercurrents in Karen's tone.

The girl wore straight cut jeans that made her look taller than she was, but even then Regina and Karen stood tall when next to the girl, and an off shoulder-cropped top that could pass off as a baby’s t-shirt due to how much it revealed her stomach and shoulders.

“Sorry, got caught up in Regina's thrilling story of how some girl named Janis had an obsession with her.", y/n sat down

Regina laughed, oblivious to Karen's internal struggle.

As the conversation turned to the mundane details of their day, Karen couldn't resist peppering the discussion with subtle jabs, her jealousy veiled by her bubbly demeanor.

"Oh, Y/N, did you get my text? I sent, like, five emojis in a row. So cute, right?"

Y/N, playing along, chuckled.

“Sorry, Karen, got lost in Regina's rant on how she saw Jason working at Taco Bell. You know how it is."

Karen's attempts to hide her jealousy were betrayed by the narrowing of her eyes, but she quickly covered it with a forced giggle.

Gretchen, sensing the tension, attempted to steer the conversation into safer territory.

“Anyway, class was, like, so boring today. Mr. Duvall went on and on about quadratic equations."

Regina rolled her eyes dramatically.

“Ugh, like, who cares about math? I'd rather discuss something important, like which shade of lipstick looks best on me."

Karen, unable to resist a snide remark, interjected.

“Well, speaking of shades, Y/N, I noticed you were wearing a really bold color today. Trying to make a statement?"

Y/N, catching on to Karen's game, raised an eyebrow.

“Just trying to keep things interesting, Karen. Isn't that what you love about me?"

———————————————————————

The next day, Y/N decided to play a lighthearted prank to get Karen to speak up more. She carefully chose her outfit that took her an hour of indecisive choices.

She decided on a skirt that SHOULD have been a dress code violation to the school but isn’t, with nothing but a bra under her cropped cardigan that if she moved too much, anyone would be scared for the button to pop.

Y/n texted Gretchen to pick her up today because she refused to get her license with the excuse that she wanted to stay as a passenger princess (for karen 🗣️🗣️)

Y/N entered the school confidently, ready to see the reaction it would elicit from both Karen and Regina George.

As Y/N strolled through the hallways, the two couldn't help but notice the lingering gazes from their peers. The whispers and nudges followed them like a shadow, heightening the dramatic tension.

Y/n spotted Karen at her pink locker that she glammed up the first day of school. Karen was re-applying her lipgloss as she looked at her reflection in the mirror hung up in her locker. The sound of y/n’s heeled boots clacked and Y/N's eyes met Karen's, a playful challenge embedded within the gaze. Karen, a mixture of surprise and amusement, couldn't help but turn away from the girl, focusing on just applying her lipgloss to avoid looking at the girl.

However, before y/n reached Karen, Regina appeared strutting to the shorter girl, feigning casual conversation while secretly sizing up the outfit.

"Well, well, Y/N. Trying to make a statement today, are we?"

Y/N, playing along with the charade, grinned mischievously.

"Just thought I'd shake things up a bit, Regina. Keep life interesting."

Regina smirked, sensing an opportunity to stir the pot.

"Interesting, indeed. I wonder what Karen thinks about your fashion statement."

Meanwhile, Karen observed the exchange that happened just a meter away from her, an amused glint in her eyes. She approached the scene, pretending nonchalance.

"What's going on here? Am I missing the latest fashion trends?"

Y/N shot Karen a sly look, reveling in the game they were playing.

"Oh please, you look like you want to fuck me.", y/n joked and Regina laughed with

Karen chuckled, her gaze lingering on Y/N with a mix of admiration and desire.

“Well, you certainly know how to keep things exciting. Let me try your top on sometime."

“Maybe, take me out for a drive later and we’ll see”

As Regina and Gretchen sensed the tension they both left, leaving the two girls to figure themselves out.

As school came to an end, Karen pulled up her Pink Porche at the front of the school where Y/N waited while ok her phone.

The girl rolled her windows down and told her to get in.

As Y/N entered, she buckled herself in as Karen started driving.

The pair talked about school that day and they shared laughs and giggles.

At one point, Y/N wanted to pull the curly haired girls strings again. The girl pulled out her purse and took out her lipgloss. She looked into the mirror and carefully re-applied it as she said,

“Oh my God Karen. Earlier at lunch I got held back right and so I missed out on lunch but when I went to find you guys, Regina had already got me my food. Isn’t she just the sweetest”, Y/N said practically drooling over Regina’s actions.

The car came to a halt and Y/N turned to Karen with a sad expression on her face.

Her usually bright persona disappeared and y/n realised.

“What do you like about her anyway. She hasn’t even fucked you like I have and you treat me like we’re just friends”, Karen said with tears welling in her eyes.

Y/n’s expression softened and turned her body to the girl.

“Oh, Kary, I don’t like Regina like I like you-“

“Then be mine”, The girl huffed out

The latter softly grabbed Karen’s cheek as they both leaned close. Karen’s hand found their way to Y/n’s waist, carefully tracing circles on her exposed skin.

Y/n could feel the girls breath on her face as she closed the gap between them two. Their lips moved in sync and Karen leaned forward, making Y/N go back into her own seat, trapping the girl with one hand on the wheel and the other on the girl.

Y/N pulled back quickly as she quickly realised and said,

“Alright that’s enough, I just re-applied my gloss”, she huffed out pouting as a joke.

Karen giggled at the girl as the latter applied gloss on again.

“Woman, are you serious. I just-“, Karen said wide eyed

Y/N leaned in once again and harshly grabbed the girls face, leaving Karen in shock of the girls sudden bold action. Y/n pulled away and fixed up her top as if she didn’t just silence the girl.

“That was one of my life goals, to be kissed by you”

Karen giggled as she reignited the engine and Y/n turned her head to the window pretending she didn’t hear the other.

—————————————————————————————————————

AU: Good lawd

Thank you @candytounge0218 for the idea 🩶🩶

[lividria]

Funny Story: The Thousand-Year Door (Part 2)

Yea, remember the time I made a post about how everyone associates me with this game's Vivian because that's also my name, I'm also trans and my OC persona character looks similar? I have now beaten TTYD and I already wasn't opposed because I liked the character but I used Vivian for literally as much time as possible once I got her so uh

Here's some of the highlights of my playthrough, spoilers obviously

In the chapter 8 Shadow Sirens rematch (I know they're the Three Shadows now but I'm used to the old name, fight me), I had Goombella out to get tattles, tried to switch over to Vivian, and the FUCKING GAME CRASHED? Which I interpreted as Beldam getting so pissed it broke the space-time continuum, thankfully I saved right before and Vivian later dealt the final blow to Beldam to win the fight when I tried again

Shadow Queen kicked my FUCKING ASS HOLY SHIT, it took me 3 tries, I feel like if I were to rematch Prince Mush they would be so much easier than SQ it wouldn't even be funny AND THEY'RE A SUPERBOSS, I WIPED THE FLOOR WITH JUST ABOUT EVERY PRE-CHAPTER 8 BOSS BUT THEN THE FINAL BOSS WRECKED MY ASS LIKE SHE WAS TACO BELL

One of my friends hyped up Bonetail as being even harder when I immediately went to do the Pit after the credits, I JUST beat them without using any items (Though I did eat a couple in the earlier levels of the Pit) and it was so much less intense than what I expected, especially because I got really lucky with bingos and Pretty Lucky (badge) so I was never in any danger

Yes I know about Whacka, yes I know what I have to do to fight them, yes I'm gonna try them, but that's for tomorrow

I was actually trying to get 100% tattles this playthrough but only realized far too late I didn't get the tattles for the scripted Shwwonk Fortress encounters (Not the Golden Fuzzy, though, I got them & their Fuzzy horde) and I don't know if those guys respawn or are anywhere else so uh fucking whoops

I laughed my ass off when the Atomic Boo had it's own battle theme, that was the most unnecessary thing ever

Chapter 3 made me absolutely lose my shit because all I did was do all the Trouble Center side quests before that and I was somehow hilariously overpowered (I actually got a Power Plus from was their name Dazzle or Sparkle? So that's probably why) I destroyed everything and everyone, I knew about the poisoned cake but I didn't know leaving it killed that poor Koopa, I was completely floored by Bowser not having his boss theme (It's used in the Chapter 8 fight don't worry), and laughed for like a half hour straight at Grubba actually just dying at the end of the chapter after confessing to murder, can you actually find him anywhere after that because I never saw him ever again and Jolene said he was out of the picture so I choose to interpret that as Mario just straight up killing the guy

I fucking hate Rawk Hawk, I rematched him a couple times, all of them unintentionally besides for one time I was like 2 points off a level up, he goes down so fast it's so cathartic, I got an e-mail at some point from him that looked like he was saying he's a better fighter now, I'm gonna go beat his ass right now to prove he ain't

I somehow got Vivian into that bucket in the hidden part of Rogueport Harbor, she teleported out before I could screenshot it, I open Tumblr and first thing I see is that one post that's art of bucket Vivian, reality is taunting me I swear

For the several years on Discord I've always made it a thing to exaggerate some personality traits whenever it'd lead to funny jokes, so I have this entire gag persona I'll put on sometimes where I'll act like a narcissistic asshole out of nowhere (which is pretty easy because I'm incredibly easy to anger and thus act like a jerk more than I should), and it's some of the same people I do that with that compare me to TTYD Vivian sometimes, so imagine my reaction when I see the dialogue implying Vivian has a crush on Mario when I always switch out the player character with myself in my head, Vivian has a crush on essentially herself

I never used Zess T. once throughout my entire playthrough so imagine my horror when I check the requirements for 100%ing the game and seeing the recipes are there in the Journal menu, yea fuck no lol, I don't even know if I'll get all the Star Pieces & Shine Sprites but I am definitely not catching up

So uh yeah really good game

[angel-anachronism]

Heyy How you doing? I wanted to make a request for Mischa Bachinski × reader where reader is like this popular but not mean kind of girl in town. Like everyone loves her and she's in every club she can and has good grades in school (which can be a problem for ocean), her friends'parents absolutely love her, etc. And like mischa and her don't talk to much, so he thinks she doesn't even remember his name. (Kind of like the song Gold Rush by taylor swift now that I think abt it? Idk).

The point is ofc she likes him, but she thinks he doesn't like her bc of his angry persona and all of that stuff (also what would people say if they saw her hanging out with someone with such a bad raputation?)

And when they finally clear things up and become friends they end completely falling in love w each other and have to tell each other at some point.

I feel like this is way too long and specific, so don't worry if it bores you or smth, ily :))

Hello! I'm currently very busy with school, but I'll still try writing oneshots at any opportunity I have! And don't worry, I love writing very long and detailed works, and I find it easier when the request is longer because I know what I need to write.

(P.S. In this fanfic, (Y/N) has two moms, which will be referred to as mama and mom, cuz I just felt like it.) (Also, they will appear in the next request too, so be prepared to see them again)

Also, sorry for not writing in a few weeks, I've been going through a long depressive episode lately, but now I've got the motivation to write again

(TW: None!)

Word count: 1,364 words

Beauty and the beast (Mischa Bachinski x Popular!fem!reader fluff)

(𝓨/𝓝)'𝓼 𝓟𝓞𝓥

"The most loved girl in town" has been a Title that I've worn like a badge for most of my life. Ever since I was younger, I knew three things:

"Be friendly to others because you don't know what they're going through, be smart so that you can one day help others live a better life, and last but not least, be happy for making others happy"

At least, that's what my parents always told me, and I obeyed them. These rules have been actually helpful for me. Thanks to them, I am now known by everyone in town as being "The most loved girl in town", thanks to my personality.

I always help others when in need, and thanks to that, I've made a lot of friends. Yes, some of them have been fake to me, but I still have forgiven them.

I am also one of the best students in school. I've never got any grade below 79%, and I am also in every club in St. Cassian high school, including the school choir.

Speaking about the school choir, I am friends with a lot of people, even with my rival, Ocean. We don't hate each other, but we are indeed rivals in every class. After we get the scores on one of our tests, the one who has the lower grade needs to buy Taco Bell from my friend, Noel, and pay with the "loser"'s money.

Even if I have a lot of friends in school, I am not friends with one boy, who's name is Mischa Bachinski. To be honest, I would like to be friends with him, but I don't think he would want to be friends with me, a goodie two shoes.

I should probably try to become friends with him. Everyone has a good soul. There's no such thing as bad people. Mischa is just misunderstood, that's the problem, and I would like to try to break him out of his shell formed of anger.

The next morning, after I woke up, I decided to make a little bracelet for Mischa, since I want to start a friendship with him, and there's no better way than to make a friendship bracelet.

I spent a few minutes making the bracelet, which also included his name, and I felt very proud of myself, yet I was still kind of scared that he might reject my friendship bracelet.

After I was done making it, I put it on my wrist, and then took my backpack, and went downstairs to eat together with my moms.

As I was walking downstairs, I observed the decoration around the house. There were seventeen pictures of me, going from up to down. The first picture was a picture of myself when I was one, and the seventeenth one was of me in the present. I'm not exaggerating one bit when I tell you that my moms are very proud of me. They always brag with pride about how smart I am to everyone they meet. Most parents even beg me to be friends with their kids, so that they can learn to be "better". Of course, I befriended their kids, but I never tried to change them. Everyone is perfect in their own way.

"Goodmorning, (Y/N)! How was your sleep?" Asked my mama. I looked at her and I smiled, as my other mom was making breakfast for us.

"It was wonderful!" I said as my mom gave me an omelet.

"Well, we're glad that you slept well!" Mom said as she sat next to mama and me.

I began eating as if there were no tomorrow, and then got off my seat and waved at my moms.

"Wait, (Y/N)!" Mama said as she walked to me, and pulled my sleeve up, to show the bracelet that I was planning to give to Mischa.

"Young lady. Who is this "Mischa"?" She asked as she smirked. I blushed a little.

"Oh, he's a boy in choir, and I want to become friends with him, so I made him this bracelet," I said, and both mama and mom smiled at each other.

"That's good, honey! Hope we can meet him one day!" Said mom, as both she and mama waved at me.

I waved back and then headed off to school.

I have gotten to the choir and looked around for Mischa. he was indeed here, but he was sitting on his phone.

I walked up to him.

"Hello, Mischa!" I waved at him. He looked at me surprised.

"Wait, you remembered my name?" He asked. I nodded. "What do you want from me?"

"Well, I would like to become friends with you, only if you don't mind!" I said, and I took the bracelet off my wrist and showed it to him.

he looked in awe at the bracelet and extended his hand to take it. He took it so gently, it was as if he never got any gifts from anyone.

"Wow..." He said, and then looked at me. "You really had time to make a gift...for me?"

I nodded. He looked even more in astonishment at the bracelet. He looked like he wanted to cry, but he hid it behind the facade of someone with a "cool guy" persona. "Thank you, druh!" He smiled at me.

"Sorry if I seem rude, but what does "druh" mean?" I asked with a confused smile. He started chuckling. "Druh means friend in ukrainian." He said, still looking at the bracelet.

"Wait, you see me as a friend?" I asked once again. He smiled again.

"Of course! No one here ever gave me a gift, and you are the only one who gave me something even if we don't know each other very well."

He explained. My eyes sparkled. Then he added with a slight blush, "Thanks." I smiled brightly at him, and we continued chatting until class started. I just know that this will start a beautiful friendship.

I'll never forget the day when I befriended Mischa. Since then, we've been like two peas in a pod, rarely separated. Even though I've only been friends with Mischa for a few weeks, I consider him one of my closest friends.

After school, Mischa waited for me outside, and we decided to walk home together. He held my arm, and it felt so nice…but also weird. It was like a tingle running through my body, and my heart started beating fast.

We talked more and more, while slowly getting closer and closer to each other. I could feel a lump form in my throat. Why was I reacting like this? Maybe it's because I had never felt this before. Was this normal? Or was I overreacting? I couldn't tell. Our arms were touching, which was weird. I didn't like being touched by strangers, and Mischa was definitely not the type of person whom I would willingly touch. However, I enjoyed holding hands with Mischa. We arrived at Mischa's house. "See you at school, (Y/N)" Mischa said with a saddened expression as he wanted to enter his house. I stopped him, which made him look back at me "Hey, Mischa," I began, "I actually wanted to ask you something…" "Yeah?" He replied, sounding slightly nervous. "I…I…really like you! I blurted out. His face changed completely, and he looked shocked. He looked at me for a moment. "Why?" He asked. "Well, I guess I don't know! I just found out today that I have a crush on you, and then I couldn't stop thinking about you!" Misha began laughing. "Well, (Y/N), I like you too." He said, smiling. "Really?!?" I asked as I wasn't sure if I heard correctly. But then, it happened: he hugged me. A hug from Mischa Bachinski. "Yes, (Y/N), I really like you too." He said as he broke the hug. We stared into each other's eyes and smiled shyly. This relationship will truly begin like any cheesy romantic comedy.

𝑅𝑒𝒷𝓁𝑜𝑔 >> 𝐿𝒾𝓀𝑒 (𝒩𝑜𝓉 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝒸𝒾𝓃𝑔, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝐼 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁𝓁𝓎 𝓃𝑒𝑒𝒹 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓈)

[bugbyte]

Recent discoveries from the land of Bug lives with a chronic illness and is tired all the time:

This is probably obvious to everyone but holy shit, crock pot. I used to use this thing mostly for a few very specific recipes because I feel like there’s something about the cooking method where things can tend to lose flavor or texture (might just be a me thing) but lately it’s been a lifesaver when I am hurting and exhausted, which has been a lot.

I’m trying to cut back on premade or processed stuff where I can because I don’t think it’s good for me personally or for our budget. (No judgement from me if that’s what’s easiest for you, we all gotta eat somehow.) Cooking has become a mega effort for me when I’m having a flare up and it’s been tough. I used to do all the cooking for us because I genuinely love to do it, but it’s gotten so hard for me recently and I’m trying new methods.

More chatter and recipes under the break~

This is all kind of a medium effort (unless you have someone to help, which I am lucky to have) so it might not work for everyone, because the ceramic piece of the cooker is kind of heavy to get out and clean if you’re prone to dropping things (I am) but it can go in the dishwasher. Also chopping things can be a pain; I have a little chopping thing that helps when I’m cooking alone, it looks like this:

Anyway, if you can get past those hurdles via tools or help or buying pre-chopped veggies, you’re halfway there. You can also prep veg when you’re having a good day and freeze it so you have it ready on a bad day.

Here are a few of my favorite recipes, all are kinda chicken-based and the method is basically the same but you can probably substitute another protein, this just works for my budget and dietary needs. The only thing I might not use is ground meat; something funny can happen with the texture of it, I think because you’re not necessarily stirring all the time. It can cook kinda weird if you’re not attentive, and we’re going for as hands off as possible here.

Today we chopped up a bunch of veggies and dumped them in with chicken breast, a bunch of seasoning (curry, garam masala, garlic, ginger, a little Trader Joe’s sriracha seasoning for a little heat, I mean, I don’t think you can really add too many spices here?? Add and measure with your heart, as they say), and a jar of tikka masala sauce. Then we just have to make rice later and it’s all set. 4-6 hours on high, 6-8 on low seems to be the standard and works for basically everything I’ve tried so far. Yeah, it’s kind of premade with the jar sauce, but having something hot with real veggies and chicken when you’re not feeling good is a real morale boost at the end of the day. Plus, a ton of leftovers.

Another easy one I love is chopping up an onion and a bell pepper or two, pour in either a jar of tomato pasta sauce or a big can of crushed tomatoes + whatever garlic/basil/etc seasonings you like, and throw a couple of chicken breasts on top with some seasoning on those too. Same timing as above. By the end the chicken just shreds apart by pinching it with tongs really easily (I have hand grip issues and I can do it) so shred that and stir it all together. This stuff is great on pasta, probably also would be an amazing sandwich on a bun with some mozzarella?? Last time we used a can of tomatoes so there was a ton of extra liquid and I just dumped in a package of farfalle at the end of cooking (or 30 minutes to the end, ish) and mixed it well, gave it 30 minutes to soak up the sauce, and it was really tasty. You really only have to pay attention at the end to make sure the pasta is the way you want it, not over or under done.

Lastly, tacos. Chicken, in whatever quantity you want. We are 2 people and 2 breasts is enough for a bunch of tacos and leftovers for lunch the next day. Add a little olive oil (just a dash to help stuff stick) and half a packet of any taco seasoning you like (save the rest for the end). Mix in one of those little cans of chopped green chilies plus about one tiny can of water or chicken broth if you’re feeling fancy. Cook either high or low (as above) but I find low on 6-8 hours actually does come out better on this one. When it’s done, shred the chicken like the tomato recipe. It should just fall apart with very little effort. Then add in the rest of the seasoning packet and mix; it helps thicken any liquid into sauce. If you still end up with too much liquid somehow, just scoop some out with a ladle. Then just put it on tortillas with whatever taco stuff you like. This one also works pretty well with a big chunk of pork, like pork shoulder. You may need some extra seasoning and stuff because it’s bigger, and I would also add some garlic to the pork version for better flavor. If you have the energy or assistance this stuff is also great shredded up and thrown under a broiler for a couple minutes for crispy edges, but that’s totally optional. Still tasty without it.

Anyway, just thought I’d share some of the easy stuff I’ve come across and liked because I love cooking and I hate how much trouble I’ve had making good food without running myself to exhaustion since I started having health problems. It’s a learning curve for sure.

[softmick]

two weeks of weekly tag game wednesday but it’s actually thursday (i filled out last week’s on time but never posted the draft 🤷)

🔤Name: meagan

🗺️Where in the world are you? right now i’m on a train from nikko to tokyo, japan! 🇯🇵

🛀do you have a favorite towel? nope, just one that’s big enough to cover everything.

🪨can you skip rocks? not really!

🤔tell me about a weird slang term from your area: i am totally blanking.

🍞favorite toast topping? salted butter.

🍮thoughts on bread pudding? i love it so much. not a fan of when people add stuff tho like white chocolate sauce or raisins or something.

🌆City or country living? i want both, which is a struggle. being outside and surrounded by nature does great things for my head and heart but i hate not having options for food, concerts, things to do, etc. where i lived in atlanta was a great mix. where i live now in fl is beautiful but too rural.

😸How do you cheer yourself up after a bad day? cozy clothes, blankets, ordering in, chocolate, tea, snuggles.

🌗Are you a pessimist or an optimist? i am generally a “we’ll figure it out” kind of person. but a pessimist when it comes to personal achievement stuff.

🏷️can i tag you in random stuff? yup.

————

🔤 Name: sometimes meg. my parents call me boo.

🎶 Last song you listened to: kyoto by phoebe bridgers because i’m in kyoto!

🎵 Artist on Spotify giving you the feels right now: not an artist but this playlist my sibling made. i can’t listen to it super often or it makes me sad but every once in a while i’ll revisit it and it makes me miss her but also makes me happy.

👯‍♂️ fave blorbo moment: when ian says “i wanna be where you are, mickey” and for mickey the “sorry i’m late” scene

🍟 Your guilty pleasure snack: i don’t feel guilty about food but maybe taco bell?

🌮 What food are you craving today: pizza.

📖 Last fanfic tab you opened: running into you by @juliakayyy gonna read it when i get home.

🖌️ Favorite fic project you've created: umm, it hasn’t been written yet.

👩🏼‍🎤 Next tattoo you want (or would consider if you're not a tattoo person): there are a lot i want. hopefully the next one i get will be a full back piece by savannah colleen. i would also like to get my head tattooed but i’m not sure if i’m ready to cut all my hair off again just yet.

🧐🆓 What's living in your head rent free this week: my partner has been starving for what feels like our whole trip and i can’t stop thinking about mickey saying “don’t worry we’ll get a dick in ya as soon as we can”. i want to respond to every “i’m hungry” with it. also cam as spike.

thank you 😊 to Kat @mybrainismelted Ling @lingy910y Julissa @heymrspatel Jess @jrooc Dyno @dynamic-power Ajax @transmickey River @milkovichrules Sky @skylerwinchester and Julia @juliakayyy for tagging me! 🫶

[amysubmits]

Please do a post on your hyperfixation food. I love getting food inspiration from other people. Recently mine has been homemade chipotle bowls. I would eat them twice a day if I could.

Interesting! I have never been to a Chipotle but I know so many people love their stuff. I should try a homemade version sometime! I don't really have a hyperfixation food right now :(. My most recent one was making a homemade version of the taco bell spicy potato tacos. Tater tots in a tortilla shell with some spicy chipotle sauce (taco bell brand is sold at grocery stores) and shredded lettuce. Quite close to the real thing, super fast and yummy.

And I guess I'll just share some other things I've enjoyed lately even though they haven't been full on obsessions for me, haha. For a while I was buying a ton of the Taylor farms pizza ranch salad kits. They only make them in miniature sizes which is kind of a bummer because CD and I both love using them as dinner sides but each one is just enough for one salad. But Walmart started making (or maybe our Walmart just started stocking) a great value version that is a bigger bag, and it includes pepperoni bits that have a bit of a spice to them which makes it slightly yummier than the name brand. And also the bag is big enough for 2-3 salads rather than just one. I wish I knew of a dressing you could buy separate so I could stop buying the kits but I've googled to see if there are dupes and haven't come across any good suggestions. I also really like the Cajun Ranch salad kits, those are Dole brand. And I don't like regular ranch dressing for what it's worth, these don't taste ranch-y. A few weeks ago a store we were in had Johnsonville smoked brats on sale. They look like hot dogs not brats but we both like brats and smoked sausage so we thought a combination of the two should be a hit. We gave them a try and both like them. We've continued to buy a pack a week since then. I think we'd both like to let these be a full hyperfixation but are holding ourselves back because we don't want to consume crazy amounts of ultra-processed meat.

Also quite unhealthy I'm sure, but the Cheetos Pretzles are quite good! I debated about trying them for quite a while before I did, as I wasn't sure I'd like the combo despite me liking pretzels and cheetos but they're really good. The pretzels are softer and thinner than regular pretzels which is a big part of what makes it work I think. Minute Maid's zero sugar lemonades are really good! No fake sugar taste.

Drizzilicious birthday cake bites are SO good.

A friend told me that the pickle goldfish are really good and so are the Lays fried pickle chips, but I haven't been able to find either those close to me yet. That's all that's coming to mind right now. 😆

Thanks for the ask. Maybe more will join in with theirs so we can steal each others ideas on this thread, too. :)

[pbandjesse]

I just got done helping James cut their hair. I am not feeling as low tonight. Maybe taking the medicine in the morning is the way to go. Though I am worried about waking up feeling sick in the middle of the night. But I'm trying to remain positive.

I was a little bit of a baby today. Any time I started to feel unwell I would get so worried I was about to fall apart that I was very much in the edge of shutting down. But I made it through most of the day. I was trying really really hard.

When I woke up this morning I was fine. I wasn't amazing. But I was fine. My hair looked nice. I felt pretty. But I also just had all this pressure in my stomach and when I was done getting ready I laid on the floor. James would come upstairs to check on me and laid with me for a bit. It helped. I needed to get up and I needed to leave.

James would pack me a lunch but I would barely pick at it. They packed peanut butter for me to eat with pretzels but I ended up eating spoon fulls of it on my drive into camp as my breakfast. And honestly it was good. I had a cup of milk and my peanut butter and my favorite podcast put out an episode about why my least favorite painter sucks and I felt so very vindicated!!

When I got to camp no one was in yet. I would spend a few minutes putting things away but then pretty quickly went and got the gator to take some packages of field trip supplies up to the art building. I got that stuff put away and continued on my drive around camp.

I went to the nature building to say hello to the animals. Samson was speed walking in his tank which was really cute.

I would drive over to peeps to get my last box of stuff. I would stop when I saw the impressive mushroom pictures above. I believe it's chicken of the woods but it's more spread out then I'm used to seeing so I'm not 100%.

Getting my last box from peeps didn't go amazing. The box split open and I dropped everything. But it was fine. I would just make two trips. Still made me huff and puff and feel really woozy, walking up the hill. But I would sit for a minute and catch my breath.

I drove back to art one more time to drop off the box. Saw Lucky the three legged cat and couldn't get him to let me pet him but he did lead me to another kitty. So that was nice. I drove over to the pond and up behind stockade. And then back to the office. Where Alexi was just getting in.

Soon after that everyone else was back in too. I would slowly run out of things to do. It as in charge of contacting someone I had to search for online. And I am very good at googling and was able to find his email but I'm going to try and call him tomorrow. Even though I hate calling people. Especially when there is information being passed. I would much rather have it in writing.

But it's fine.

I would spend a lot of time sending emails. Working on my hand out for my beading workshop next week. And starting research for specialty program ideas for next year.

When I would get bored I would go do other small tasks. I went over to the pioneer cabins to measure a wall. Jeff was over there and he asked how my dad was doing. We chatted for a bit.

I would go put away the tent tarp, per Joe's request. I would lay in my hammock for a half hour. And then back to the office to continue researching. I think I have a good smattering of ideas now though and will start to write things out soon.

I decided I really wanted to get Taco Bell. I would keep myself focused by promising myself I could get Taco Bell. I truly hate how often I have been eating out lately but eating at all has been so incredibly hard I'm trying to not fight it when I think I can eat something.

And at 3 I would say goodbye to everyone and drove to Taco Bell. And I don't know why but I didn't get what I had planned and got a crunch wrap instead. Which was good. And a potato taco, which was a little spicier then I wanted but was still good.

I ate half of everything in the car. And then headed home. I started feeling not amazing. I just tried sipping water and breathing and would be okay. I was just really happy to go home.

When I got back here I would sit with sweetp on the couch. I had the other half of my taco bell. And waited for James to get home. I thought about playing the new video game James got me but I was worried about getting motion sickness. Instead I just watched a video and laid on the couch.

When James got home they would consult with me about new stickers to order for my market table. But the one company we were going to go with (after sticker mule lost their minds and we can't order from them anymore) was going to be $600?? So James would reach out to a smaller company in California and if would take a few hours for them to respond but they were so nice and the whole order, the same order, is going to be less then $50! Incredible. I hope they are good quality. They had good reviews on reddit so fingers crossed.

James would clear the landing for the washing machine delivery on Friday. And the. We would hang out for a while. Eventually moving upstairs. They worked on their research for their longer podcast episode. I watched TikToks.

Eventually I took a bath. I trimmed my bangs. And when I was done I cut James's hair too. They are using the clippers for the sides now. And I am feeling very very tired.

My allergies kicked off a little but I am feeling a little better now. I hope I can sleep earlier tonight and feel nice tomorrow.

I have lots to do at camp tomorrow. Things to sort and things to paint and people to call. I hope it's a good day.

I hope you all have a good night. I love you all. Sleep well. Be safe.

[hermannsthumb]

Hello! My dumb autistic ass decided to go into ~autistic burnout~ right before finals so I missed an entire final and I'm looking forward to a month of intensive therapy to see if I can even go back to college. If you could write a winter prompt for our favorite dumb scientists I would be so friggin happy! Maybe 25 or 35?

25. i love snow days because it means that you trek across town to hang out with me and watch movies on the couch except this time you demand to know who i’m crushing on and i don’t know how to say you

from winter prompts here

filling this one a little (ie...four years....) late because it got lost in the depths of my inbox. imagining this set post-movie in the weird realm of 'are we dating???' because it's stupidly fun to write

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

They're well-practiced enough in their traditions at this point that Newton knows to hang his coat on the door hooks rather than simply flinging it into the ether (only to complain when he cannot find it later), but the same cannot be said, unfortunately, of his treatment of his boots, which are filthy on the best of days and positively caked with snow now, and which are currently tracking all manner of puddles and mud across Hermann's poor front hallway. Fortunately Hermann is well-practiced enough in this as well to know to seize Newton by the back of his t-shirt before he can make it remotely in the direction of the small sitting room—and, of course, to keep a stash of old hand towels in the hall closet for faster mopping-up. "I bought a shoe rack," Hermann gripes, as Newton grins at him sheepishly, "specifically for you. Your very own shoe rack, Newton."

Newton ducks over to tug at his sodden bootlaces, and melted snow drips from his hair and pools on the scuffed hardwood floor. Hermann grits his teeth. "Sorry, sorry, I know," Newton says. He gets one boot off and tosses it in the direction of the shoe rack, which, Hermann will give Newton credit, is more than he expected of his friend. "I forgot. I was excited. Oooops. You wanna toss dinner in the microwave or something while I clean this up? It's definitely, like, frozen by now."

Hermann delicately picks up the bag of takeaway (one of Newton's myriad of tote bags, and likewise dripping melted snow everywhere) that Newton hung on the doorknob and nods. It was Newton's turn to pick the restaurant this time, which means it is likely Taco Bell and whatever bottle of wine he could dig up from his small kitchen pantry. Hermann cannot imagine the food will reheat well. "I hope your walk wasn't too unpleasant," he says. He peeks into the bag as he navigates around Newton and into his kitchen and is pleasantly surprised to find that Newton has actually stopped off at a rather nice noodle place they've frequented together before. It's one of Hermann's favorites. He smiles to himself, only because he's certain that Newton will not be able to see it, and puts the cardboard takeout container directly in the microwave.

"Nah," Newton calls. "I mean, it totally was, but it was worth it."

His sock-cushioned footsteps echo into place behind Hermann just as their dinner finishes, and he begins making himself at home in the kitchen, pulling out plates and cutlery from Hermann's cupboards and laying everything out on the counter. "Worth it," he repeats, and then continues pointedly, "but, uh, kinda unnecessary. And more expensive. Twice as expensive, literally. You know I have an extra bedroom, dude."

Hermann divides the food into two portions between the plates in silence. "Yes, so do I," he says, mildly. "The second one made for a marvelous office. You ought to try that."

Newton sighs. "Right," he says. "Where's your corkscrew?"

The only couch Hermann has in his sitting room is second-hand, left by the previous renters who undoubtedly did not feel up to the task of fitting it back through the somewhat narrow front door. It's a loveseat, which at the time Hermann did not mind, and indeed felt rather nostalgic about: it reminded him of the old, ragged one he and Newton had carted into the k-science laboratory over a decade ago and the nights they'd spent dozing at each other's sides (all pretenses of animosity gone) when the work became simply too much to bear. Anyway, it wasn't as if he was expecting to host a revolving door of guests. Only Newton. Unfortunately it also means he's got nowhere to hide when Newton is cross with him about something, and the lingering air of tension between them shrinks from the whole of Hermann's kitchen to a mere two inches as they crowd in next to each other, avoiding eye contact and hugging the overstuffed arms as tightly as they can. "You could buy another chair, you know," Newton finally says. "Now that we're actually getting, like, paid. Enough for two more chairs. Three more chairs."

"What would I do with three chairs?" Hermann says.

"Sit in them?" Newton says. "I don't know, what do people normally do with chairs?"

"I like this one just fine," Hermann says. "Besides, you're the only one I ever have round. Seems a bit pointless. And a waste of space, really."

Newton glances at him curiously, then reaches for the remote control far too casually for Hermann's liking. He flips through a few streaming services and cable channels before settling on a bland-looking romantic comedy and turning the volume down so low it's practically inaudible. "Sooooo," he says. "I'm guessing that your date last week didn't go well, then?"

Hermann stifles a small groan. Date is not precisely the word he would have chosen, though he supposes for all intents and purposes he had, in fact, gone on a date last week. He had been attracted to the man, a fellow he'd met at a bar when he and Newton had gone out for drinks to celebrate the end of the semester earlier that December, and who had been bold enough to ask for Hermann's mobile number in front of both his own friends and Newton, which Hermann had thought was rather dashing at the time. They had met up last Friday. It was evening, as Hermann thought most proper dates were. They had eaten dinner. He had said all sorts of complimentary things to Hermann and had accepted Hermann's invitation back to his flat for tea (the first excuse that came to Hermann's mind) without any hesitation. It all went a bit downhill when they began kissing and that sort of business, and Hermann came to the terrible realization that he had only given out his mobile number for the express purpose of making Newton jealous. "Er," Hermann says. "N-not precisely. He was a perfect gentleman, it was—my fault, I suppose."

("I'm very sorry," he said, "but I've been in love with my colleague for quite some time, and I don't think I'm being very fair to you.")

There's a flash of something like relief behind Newton's eyes, and he smiles far too smugly for Hermann's liking. At least he doesn't push for more details. "Awww," he says. "Sorry."

"Oh, be quiet," Hermann snorts.

"You're out of his league anyway," Newton says. He flings an arm around Hermann's shoulders and tucks Hermann in against him. On the television screen, the two romantic leads make eyes at each other in the snow. "Any other hot dates lined up? What about that guy in the chem department, with the motorcycle? The one we met at that stupid barbecue? You totally thought he was sexy. I could scope out the situation. Wingman you. Was it the motorcycle that did it for you, or...?"

Hermann clears his throat. "He's our colleague," he says, and feels himself blush at the grin Newton sends his way. "It would be—vastly inappropriate."

Newton rubs absently at Hermann's shoulder, as if working out a knot that Hermann himself was unaware of. It feels damned good, actually, Hermann doesn't mind it in the slightest. "No one else, then?"

Of course there is, you fool, Hermann thinks. Newton must know; Newton simply must know. His body is warm, and he smells nice, like his deodorant. Hermann would like very much to rest his head upon Newton's shoulder and fall asleep. Or, perhaps—if Newton was amenable—if Hermann could but gather up the courage— He wonders what kissing Newton would feel like, what his lips would feel like. He often wonders things like this. He wonders what would have happened if he had accepted Newton's offer of the spare bedroom in his—their, really, Hermann supposes it would have become—flat in the first place rather than pitching a fit and insisting on letting his own, or what would happen if he would simply admit to himself the spare bedroom in his own flat was subconsciously intended for Newton all along as well. Perhaps—after some time—they might fall into new routines, and they wouldn't need separate rooms at all, and Hermann might—well, it's silly to think about things that might never be.

He does not fear Newton's rejection, but rather the opposite. (Hermann made a career out of predicting disaster, after all, and it's very hard to shut that part of his brain off.) The fallout of it all if everything inevitably goes wrong. He can handle his tragic, unrequited romance, but requited... Newton is his oldest and dearest friend. And, er, rival, he supposes. He's not sure what he would do without him. "No," he says. "Or—yes, I suppose. There is. Only I'm not sure if it would work out."

"Welllll," Newton says, dragging out the word far too slowly, and he nudges the side of Hermann's head with his hand until Hermann (unable to help himself, or his smile) relents and rests it on Newton's shoulder. Newton threads the fingers of his other hand with Hermann's. "If you ever change your mind, Hermann, I'm sure he would be interested. Whenever you're ready. Just say the word."

"I'll bear that in mind," Hermann says.

[ruth-writes]

ruthswip Chapter 1

Chapter 1 of a rewrite of something I've been working on for a long time.

Content warnings: physical abuse (explicit scenes), homophobia

Jamie's POV

One-hundred and fifty-five days. That meant five months and two days. It had been almost half a year.

Half a year, which meant we were getting close to our first performance. Not that we were in any way ready. Lisa was supposed to be doing a step in front of me so we’d form a line facing the audience, but she kept stepping on my foot and tripping instead. If I had to hear the same few notes of This is Me one more time until she finally got it, I was rip my ears off.

Ms. Page looked as frustrated as I felt, but she knew how to handle it. She was exactly the kind of person who should be a teacher, never losing her patience or yelling at us. I wondered how she’d managed not to turn bitter like every other adult I knew. I considered asking her for tips, but it was probably too late for me anyway.

Lisa stepped on my little toe this time, the heel of her boot making me wince. “Sorry,” she apologized, as if that would make the throbbing pain magically disappear.

            I glanced at Holden, who was watching us from the front of the room. He should be practicing his solo, but there wasn’t much of a point when the backup dancers couldn’t even get far enough for his cue. At least it meant we could make faces at each other, like the one I gave him now. He answered with a small grin, making my insides squirm. Even more when people looked over their shoulders to follow his gaze. I quickly fixed my gaze back on the gym floor, blending into the background as best as I could.

            Ms. Page finally gave up on nobody tripping and told us to just try and get through the whole dance. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be, even though my feet were feeling very bruised by the end of it. I’d managed to do some improv to avoid the worst of the tripping, which Ms. Page praised me for while simultaneously scolding everyone else to practice more at home. Everyone grumbled their acknowledgement, and we were finally allowed to leave.

            Outside, Michael asked, “Who wants to go to Taco Bell?” Michael was a senior, and he had a car.

            A few people agreed, but Michael specifically looked in our direction. “Holden?”

            Holden looked at me, even though I wasn’t the one being asked. “I think I’m just gonna go home,” I told him.

            Holden turned to Michael. “Yeah, me too. I still have a lot of homework to do.”

            Micheal rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on. You used to hang out all the time.” Everyone knew what Michael wasn’t saying out loud. If there was any doubt, the glare he was giving me cemented it. Holden used to hang out last year, before he met me.

            Holden noticed it, too, his usual carefree smile turning into a slight frown. “Well, things change, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow.” He turned on his heel and stalked toward the bus, me hurrying to catch up with him.

            I hesitated when he threw himself on the seat at the very back, still glaring. “Are you mad at me?” I came out sounding a lot more like whine than I’d intended.

            His expression immediately softened as he hurried to make room for me on the bench. “No, of course not!” When I sat down, he pressed a kiss to my temple and added, “I could never be mad at you.”

            I relaxed into his arms.

-

            If I was any good at drawing, I’d be able to draw Holden’s room purely from memory by now. I’d rarely spent a single day anywhere else for the past five months, and most of my time was spent staring at the walls while he worked on his homework. I’d given up trying with mine a while ago. I knew there was no point, especially in the afternoon once my Adderall had worn off.

            Holden’s room was how I always imagined mine would be if I could decorate it the way I wanted to. There were two framed posters on the biggest wall, plants on the windowsill that he somehow managed to keep alive, and pieces of furniture he’d been allowed to pick out himself. Best of all was the wall of pictures over his desk. The pictures ranged from him as a baby ‘til now. Some were with friends, some with his family and some with me, and everyone was smiling in each one. I knew that even if I tried to create a wall like that, there wouldn’t be enough people who to cover it with.

            That was fine, though. I could entertain myself, like I did now by opening The Battle of the Labyrinth again. I was rereading the entire series while I waited for The House of Hades to come out, even though I knew it all by heart. If I had to recite that instead of state capitals in school, I’d have A’s all around. When I was little, I used to think my ADHD was proof I was a demigod. I kept waiting for the day I’d be whisked to Camp Half-Blood and meet my real family. Of course, I’d have found a way to convince Chiron to let Alex come, too. Even in my wildest fantasies, I’d never considered leaving him for a second.

            I jumped slightly when Holden sat down next to me suddenly, holding his laptop. He grimaced. “Oh God, sorry.”

            “It’s fine,” I assured him. “Are you done?”

            He nodded and we cuddled up next to each other, my head resting on his shoulder. Holden tried opening Netflix, but announced after a few moments, “The Wifi’s not working. One of us has to go and reset the router.”

            We looked at each other, having a tiny battle of who could do the best puppy-dog gaze.

            “I don’t want to get up,” he complained.

            “Well, neither do I,” I countered.

            “I reset it yesterday!” he protested.

            “Did you? I don’t remember.”

            “I’m pretty sure I did.”

            “I’m pretty sure you didn’t.”

            He shut his laptop. “I guess we’re not watching anything then.”

            That was a move I hadn’t been expecting. “Are you serious?” I pouted.

            “Hey, if it’s that important to you, you can go,” he pointed out.

            I thought about it. “Yeah, no.”

            He laughed, leaning in close. “I know something we can do that we don’t have to leave the bed for.”

            I smirked. “Yeah?”

            We started off slow, kissing each other gently, but then letting things get more heated. He hummed when I kissed down his neck. I loved giving him hickeys. I wished he could give them to me too, but they’d be much too visible. I smiled into my kissed when he slowly started inching his hand up my shirt, but then frowned when he paused. I stopped to see what he was looking at.

            “This one’s knew,” he commented, gently touching the fresh bruise on my chest.

            I winced and he immediately withdrew his hand. “Sorry,” he apologized.

            “It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt that much, I barely even noticed it,” I lied.

            Alex would have known I was lying in a heartbeat, but Holden didn’t know me as well and looked slightly relieved. “Well, that’s good.” He pulled my shirt down again, covering the bruise. “What happened?”

            “Nothing, really,” I explained. “He was just awake longer than usual and ran into me when I was coming home.”

            I could tell Holden really didn’t like that answer. “Jamie, I think we should tell someone.”

            I rolled my eyes. We’d had this conversation before, and he knew my answer hadn’t changed. “No.”

            “Just one adult, Jamie,” he pleaded. “It can be anyone. If I told my parents, they’d know what to do.”

            I struggled to keep my voice level as I bluntly stated, “They won’t because there’s nothing anyone can do.”

            Holden just didn’t get it. “They could call the police,” he argued stubbornly.

            I wondered what it was like living with such wholehearted trust in the system. It must be nice. “If we call the police, he’ll put on a nice smile for them an beat me half to death when they’re gone.” I knew I was right, because that was exactly how it had happened when my second-grade teacher called them. Afterwards, the hospital had sent me right back home to him.

            A tear rolled down Holden’s cheek and he gave a sniffle, which pissed me off. He wasn’t the one who was in danger here. But he didn’t stop crying, and I guessed I felt a little bad, so I let him cry into my shirt. He was just worried and didn’t know any better. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to scare you,” I soothed him as I stroked his hair.

            He sniffed. “I’m scared somethings gonna happen to you.”

            “Well yeah, so am I,” I said a bit too bitterly, and immediately regretted it. But Holden never got mad at me, so he just hugged me even more tightly.

            “Jamie! Holden! Dinner’s ready!” We heard his dad call from downstairs. They’d started simply assuming that I was eating with them a while back.

            We went to wash our hands, spending an extra minute to wash away any evidence of Holden’s tears.

            “Will you boys set the table?” Matt asked us once we arrived downstairs. He was carrying a large steaming pot, so I carefully maneuvered around him to get to the silverware.

            We were having spaghetti. The homemade tomato sauce was a lot better than the cheap store-bought one Alex used to heat up in the microwave. I was pretty sure the strange chucks I was picking at were actual tomatoes. I tentatively poked a small one with my fork and forced myself to swallow it. I’d always hated eating in front of other people, especially when it wasn’t one of my safe foods. Having to pretend I wasn’t literally choking most things down was exhausting.

            “So, how was everyone’s day?” Anna asked like she did every day. I’d only been dealing with it for five months, I couldn’t understand how Holden had managed it his entire life.

            “It was fine, I guess,” Holden mumbled, trying to get out of the question as always. I’d come to realize it was their ritual, because Anna always managed to get all the details out of him in the end. There wasn’t a single aspect of his life Holden was allowed to keep private.

            “You guess?” Anna pried.

            Holden busied himself trying to roll the spaghetti onto his fork. He gave up on the polite way after a few tries and started rolling the fork in the air, which was pretty cute to watch.

            “Holden, don’t play with your food,” Anna said gently but firmly.

            He pouted. “I’m eating it!”

            Whenever he talked back to his parents, I prepared myself for someone to start screaming before I remembered that wasn’t gonna happen here. Instead, Matt made Holden watch while he showed him the correct way to roll spaghetti. “Jamie’s doing it,” he pointed out. “Maybe you should watch him.”

            I hated it when they did that. Pitted us against each other. Couldn’t he have just shown it to him and left it at that? Now, I could feel everyone’s eyes on me, and it was making my skin crawl.

            Thankfully, Anna remembered that it was still supposed to be Holden’s turn in the spotlight. “How’s your solo coming along?”

            Holden nodded with his mouth stuffed full of spaghetti, which Anna patiently waited for him to swallow. “We were mostly practicing the beginning of the routine today,” he finally explained.

            Anna frowned. “Still? Your performance is next week.”

            Holden snorted. “Yeah, and it’s gonna be a… bad show.” I knew he’d narrowly stopped himself from saying shitshow.

            Anna didn’t mention his hiccup. “Well, I’m sorry to hear that.”

            She spent the next few minutes prying about how Ms. Page was handling it, how the moral was among the dancers (what did that even mean?) and figuring out exactly what Holden had ‘learned’ in school today. It was exhausting to watch, but I desperately wished it would go on forever, because once she was satisfied with him, she fixed her gaze on me.

“What about you, Jamie? What did you learn today?”

            This was always the most uncomfortable part, because Anna definitely thought I was being rude when I didn’t answer, but I truly didn’t have a single idea what my teachers had droned on about on any given day. I could barely remember my classes. After what felt like an eternity, Anna gave up on the subject, but she wasn’t completely done with me.

“How are your parents? Are they still working hard?” Anna thought the reason my parents were so nonexistent was because they were workaholics. She’d kind of come up with it on her own, and I’d never corrected her.

“Um, yeah,” I replied, picking at my food. Everyone else had already served themselves seconds, but my plate was still half full.

Anna and Matt shared a look that I didn’t understand, then Matt cleared his throat. “We were thinking of maybe inviting them over to dinner some time. You know, since you’re here so often, and we’ve never met them. They might want to know who their son is spending all of his time with.” He gave a light chuckle at the end.

Red alert. Red alert. Red alert, my brain blared. Had Matt’s gaze always been so piercing? Why was my fork suddenly so heavy? It slipped out of my hand and landed on the plate with a lout clatter, making everyone at the table jump. “Sorry!” I exclaimed, quickly picking it up again.

“It’s alright,” Matt said, even though he looked slightly frazzled. He opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out, so he looked to his wife for help.

She seemed as lost as him, but she didn’t let it stop her from trying something. “Jamie, honey, is everything… alright?”

My heart was pounding so intensely I could feel it in my fingertips. I set my fork down so I didn’t make the same mistake again and put on my best mask. “Yeah! Sorry, I was thinking of something else. I’ll ask my parents, but I honestly don’t think they’ll be free anytime soon. You've seen how much they work.”

My sudden change in attitude didn’t seem to convince Matt and Anna. I cursed myself for getting too comfortable and letting my mask slip.

“Okay, you do that,” Anna said. “But if you need anything, you can tell us, okay?”

No matter how annoying Anna was, my heart warmed at her genuineness. I almost felt guilty lying to her. Almost. It was a necessary means. I flashed her a brilliant smile. “Thanks, but really, everything’s fine.”

She gave me an uncertain smile back, then transferred the spotlight to Matt. He excelled in it, telling her every conversation he’d had that day almost word for word. Afterwards, he hung onto every sentence as she did the same for him.

Matt always drove me home after dinner. Usually he put on his favorite radio station that only played The Beatles, but today it was silent. Maybe he wanted to give me the room to tell him something. I liked Matt a lot more than I liked Anna. He never forced things out of you, so when we talked, it was always about things we both genuinely wanted to say. I imagined what would happen if I told him about my bruises. He’d freak out, but still manage to keep his cool. He’d wait for me to finish talking and then figure out what to do. He’d only want to call the cops, though, no matter what I said. So I kept my mouth shut.

We said our goodbyes, and I watched him drive off before walking home from the house I always told him was mine. It was only a block away from my actual front door. Taking off, my shoes, I unlocked the front door as slowly as I could before tiptoeing through and closing it a millimeter a second. Then came the stairs, which I inched along, making sure to avoid the creaky ones. If that even mattered with how loudly I could hear the blood rushing through my ears. After maybe ten minutes, I reached the top, where Alex’s bedroom door was waiting open for me. It was right next to mine, which had remained firmly shut since he’d left. I pulled myself under the covers that had stopped smelling like him a long time ago and fell into an uneasy sleep.

-

The next week went by in a blur. Ms. Page made us put in insane hours of extra practice, even managing to pull us out of class, and by the end of it we were actually kind of okay. Lisa wasn’t even stepping on me anymore, and Ms. Page seemed to be finding the joy in her job again.

Then it was an hour before the show, all the parents were trickling into the auditorium, and things were absolutely chaotic backstage. People were running around looking for their missing props, then crashing into others who were pacing out of nervousness. I found a quiet corner and watched. We were all in basic black outfits except for Holden, who had a white skintight shirt. It made him look pretty hot as he frantically tried to help Ms. Page keep everything in order. I saw him scan the room until his eyes fell on me. He tilted his head, silently asking if I was okay. I gave him a thumbs up, and he immediately went back to yelling orders.

Once we were under the blinding lights of the stage, adrenaline took over. I loved these moments, when I didn’t have to think and my body just did. It gave me a few precious moments of peace that were over way too soon, especially considering all the hours of sweat and tears we’d put into the routine. It was humbling realizing that we’d needed half a year to get a few minutes of simple steps right so that our parents could politely clap and forget about it the next day. The adrenaline was already mostly gone by the time Anna and Matt greeted us after the show.

“You did so well!” Anna squealed. “I’m so proud of you both.”

Matt agreed with her, and I let them hug me after they’d nearly suffocated Holden. At first it was awkward, but then I realized I didn’t want to let go. I might have been imagining it, but Matt did seem to let me hold onto him a little longer than normal before they both started fawning over Holden’s solo. I happily joined in, seeing as he had been incredible. He was all smiles, eating the attention up like the shining star he was. And he was my shining star.

I didn’t know what came over me. Maybe it was seeing him so happy, maybe Matt’s hug had given me a false sense of security. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and planted a kiss on his cheek.

After that, everything seemed to happen in the blink of an eye. Holden blushed slightly, and Anna and Matt laughed. Anny got out her phone to take a picture of us, but then her eyes fixed on something behind us. I heard someone gasp and then a voice that never failed to make my blook run cold said, “What the fuck?”

The first hit slammed into my head before I had the time to react. People screamed. I stumbled, dots in front of my eyes, and Holden caught me.

“Get your hands off my son, you fucking fag!”

He was ripped away from me and I fell, Something slammed into my face, then my arm, then my ribs. I was pretty sure I heard a crack. More people were screaming now, some of them calling my name. I ignored them, choosing to curl into a ball and close my eyes. I accepted the beatings until finally, everything went black.

[iamprchung]

Conversation Mints 3: Gimmie Three Steps and Four Musketeers

Skinner and Scully are marooned in a dive bar, a far cry from the usual FBI digs. While they wait – impatiently – for Mulder to arrive, they endure a parade of local eccentrics, culminating in a drunken bozo harassing Scully. Skinner, ever the protector (and secretly jealous?), throws down for a brawl. Enter Mulder and the Lone Gunmen, just in time to break it up. Back at the office on Monday, the remnants of a disastrous (yet strangely romantic?) Valentine's Day weekend lingers.  A cryptic exchange between Scully and Skinner hints at more than just case files in their future, leaving the possibility of future adventures wide open.

Notes from 1997

Who is Art Bell and what does “Yo quiero conspiracy” mean?

Art Bell was the patriarch of the late-night radio show still known as ‘Coast to Coast’ and known for conspiracy theories and the paranormal. Link to Art Bell’s 1997 Halloween Coast to Coast show.

Back in 1997, there was a series of popular Taco Bell commercials featuring a Chihuahua dog, which would say the catchphrase “Yo quiero Taco Bell” (I want Taco Bell).

"Gimme' Three Steps and Four Musketeers" by PR Chung

* "Twenty, twenty, twenty-four hours to go, I wanna be sedated. Nothing to do, nowhere to go..." *

Blaring over the rushing sound of wind, the Ramones blasted from the VW van careening down the beltway.

"Roll up that window!" Langly shouted from behind the wheel and over the sound of music and howling wind.

"I can't breathe with it up!" Byers called back from the open window.

Despite the fresh air whipping around the van's interior, Mulder fanned his hand in front of his face. "How much of that did you spill on yourself, Frohike?"

The unsmiling Frohike shot Mulder a glare. "You know it's no wonder none of you get laid."

"What?!" Mulder and Langly said in unison, affronted.

"Women go wild over this cologne..."

"And that's why you're here with us right now?" Langly called back looking at him in the rear-view mirror.

* "Just get me to the airport and put me on a plane..." *

Frohike sat bolt upright. "Listen, I already told you Cookie wasn't feeling well..."

"Likely story," Langly goaded, shaking his head. "Maybe it was your cologne making her sick."

"At least I had a date, which is more than I can say about you-"

"Listen," Mulder broke in before a full-blown battle could start, "I didn't come on this wild goose chase to hear you two fighting over who has the more exciting sex life."

"Wild goose chase?" Langly repeated. "Hey, it's not my fault Francisca didn't have the video." He refuted any blame that could be laid on him.

"I could have told you she wouldn't have it," Frohike declared, "she wouldn't know Art Bell from Taco Bell."

"Yo quiero conspiracy," Byers called back from the window.

* "Twenty, twenty, twenty-four hours to go, I wanna be sedated..."*

Mulder rolled his eyes and threw his head back against the headrest. "It’s over let's just go get Scully and Skinner and end this- this tape! How many times have we heard this song tonight?"

* "Nothing to do, nowhere to go..."

"The question is," Byers called turning back from the window, his neat hair cut disheveled, "how many times have we heard this tape tonight?"*

"Ba ba baa baa, I wanna be sedated.

Bam bam, ba-bam, ba-bam bam ba-bam

I wanna be sedated,

Bam bam, ba-bam, ba-bam bam ba-bam

I wanna be sedated…"

"Hey, it's either this or nothing, because the radio still isn't working, and this is the only tape I've got with me right now." Langly defended himself. "If I had known this was going to turn into a road trip, I would have brought the case."

"Well, turn it down at least," Mulder reached out and turned the volume knob, but nothing happened.

"It's full or nothing." Langly announced.

Mulder fell back in his seat, head against the headrest, defeated.

"So, what is Scully doing out here anyway?" Byers yelled over the music, as if far too used to the volume.

Mulder shook his head looking out the window at the passing nothingness. "She never said."

"Yeah, and with Skinner," Frohike said, "last time I saw those two they were at the Alexandria."

Mulder twisted around to look at him. "The hotel, tonight?"

"Yeah, at that soiree I took Cookie to. Watched their respective dates cut out together, too-- but you didn't hear that from me."

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

* "Well, I heard ole Neil put her down. Well, I hope Neil Young will remember

a southern man don't need him around..." *

The sound of the Lynyrd Skynyrd band whined from the bad speakers precariously attached to the walls of the Two Bucks bar.

"Sweet home Alabama," the drunk from the hallway sang-- and only sang. The rest of the song lyrics were muttered and mumbled beyond recognition as the man staggered around his table of friends, air guitaring with wanton disregard.

"You want that warmed up?" the bartender gestured toward Skinner and Scully's coffee cups. Two looked down at what more closely resembled sludge rather than coffee. "I'm just gonna' throw it out if you don't want any more."

"Thanks, but no." Skinner answered, and Scully agreed with a shake of her head.

“Fine with me," the bartender scoffed and shrugged, walking away with the pot of crude.

"…Where skies are so blue, sweet home Alabama... Lord, I wanna-uh, I'm com-coming hmmm, hmmm..." The drunk continued, and Skinner cringed at the slaughter of lyrics going on.

"I’m starting to regret leaving my service weapon at home," Scully remarked quietly, glancing back at the scene.

"if you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking,” Skinner ventured, “That wouldn't look good on your resume."

Scully gave him a side glance. "You wanted to confiscate Robert's boat."

"That was with just cause." He justified.

"They stick- hmmm, pick me up... hmmm, hmm... yeah," the man suddenly hollered looking over at Skinner. "Skinner, man, yeah!"

"And this isn't?" Scully questioned.

Skinner shook his head, jaw grinding. "At least the song's almost over."

"Hopefully someone will take his change away."

"Don't you mean his keys?" Skinner asked her.

She shook her head. "Change for the juke box."

Skinner nodded. "Friends don't let friends sing drunk?"

"Yeah, something like that," she said and tried another taste of her java sludge. Her mouth pursed and her nose wrinkled. "Thank god, it's not Karaoke night."

 "I thought it was..."

Hearing Skinner’s deliberately dry comment, Scully laughed in spite of herself, nearly spitting the coffee out.

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

"Where is this place? I haven't seen a sign?" Langly asked, sounding frustrated as he squinted at the road past the headlights.

"I thought you said this was the only tape you had in here?" Frohike ignored his question pulling another tape out of the glove box and holding it up to the dash lights.

"It's around here somewhere," Mulder called from the back seat.

"That narrows it down," Langly responded sarcastically.

"What is this, ABBA's number one hits?" Frohike questioned the tape he'd found. "What a crock, there's at least twenty songs on here!"

"There, on the right," Byers said pointing ahead over Langly's shoulder. "Deer Point."

"Where?"

"You just passed it," Mulder said, monotone and already bracing himself for what was about to come.

Langly jammed on the brakes, sending the van sliding to a halt on the narrow two lane. Byers would have fallen into the front if he hadn't already been leaning against the back of the driver's seat. But Frohike hit the dashboard hard, smashing the music cassette into the stereo inadvertently.

"Where'd you download your license from, punkass.com?"

* "There was something in the air that night, the stars were bright, Fernando." *

"Turn that off, will you?" Mulder begged anyone to stop the music that was suddenly permeating the van.

* "...for liberty, Fernando" *

Byers reached over the seats, fumbling for the stereo controls.

Langly ground gears, trying to put the van in reverse.

* "...if I had to do the same again, I would my friend..." *

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

” ...oh, won't you...giv'me three steps, mister..."

Skinner laced his fingers together tightly, struggling against the urge to either go pull the plug on the jukebox or the drunk. The drunk's friends were now cheering him on, urging his continued performance of Skynyrd hits endlessly spewing from the juke box.

"Where the hell is Mulder," he muttered through clinched teeth.

"He should be here soon," Scully said checking the neon clock behind the bar. “We should just go outside to wait for them.”

“In the cold?” Skinner asked, reminding her. And Scully sighed, nodding.

The bartender sauntered up to them. "You two want anything else?"

Skinner suddenly began digging in his pants pocket. "Yes," he said, yanking out a couple of damp dollar bills. "Change."

Scully looked at him, startled by his sudden abruptness.

"Sure thing, buddy..." the bartender grunted, taking the bills.

With change in hand, Skinner marched to the jukebox. His plan: clogging the jukebox with his own selections and hampering the drunk's ability to play any more Skynyrd.

"Skinner!" the drunk yelled and waved wildly as he passed.

Scully watched from the bar, amused by the whole scene in some small way. This place, and Skinner's newfound fan who was sadly mistaken about his name. She watched Skinner standing at the juke box, the light from the display window illuminating his strong features. She admired the way the collar of his tuxedo shirt lay open around his neck, and his stance before the jukebox was purposeful yet nonchalant. Just standing there, he… He looked... handsome.

"Hello again, pretty lady."

Scully knew the voice. She knew it was the man from the end of the bar. Turning she saw the man from earlier now standing very close to her, with his cocky crooked smile in place.

"I see your friend has left you unattended, big mistake." He said to her.

"Excuse me, but..."

"He should've never left such a pretty little lady all by er'self here ‘cause that just lets me know it's my turn."

"Your turn?" Scully repeated glancing in Skinner's direction.

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

Shoulders hunched against the cold, Mulder, Byers and Frohike stood together in the dark encircling Langly's battered tennis shoes sticking out from under the van.

"Can you see anything?" Byers called to him under the van.

"It's the linkage," he called back, "it's stuck in reverse."

Mulder took a step away from the others. "Great."

"Can you fix it?" Byers asked.

"With what, a bottle opener and a tire pressure gauge? Who do I look like, MacGyver?"

"You haven't got any tools?" Mulder exclaimed.

"Why do you think the radio doesn't work?" Frohike asked him.

"Yeah, I've got tools- ugh!" A clattering sounded from underneath the van followed by the flashlight rolling out.

"What is it?"

"I dropped the flashlight on my face!" Langly shouted, pulling himself out from under the van. "Damn," he declared pulling his glasses off in two pieces.

"Rough," Frohike said, pushing his own glasses up the bridge of his nose.

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

Skinner considered the multifarious jukebox selections with dread. Quiet Riot. Janet Jackson. Vince Gill. The Monkeys. Lynryd Skynyrd. Morris Day and the Time? When was the last time this thing was updated? He wondered, beginning to toy with the change in his hand. Kenny Rogers and Dolly Parton. Basia? Seriously?

It looked futile. There were a few promising prospects, though. John Fogerty and Eric Clapton, as well as a Doors tune or two. Then, there were the jukebox standards, Chuck Berry, Rolling Stones, and Elvis Presley...

Skinner looked at the Presley offerings. 'It's now or never,' 'All shook up,' and 'Can't help falling in love.' He looked at the selections, recalling events of four months past. Scully brushing against his legs under the table in the King's Kitchen came to mind.

* "It's now or never, come hold me tight... kiss me my darling." *

He had become aware of the music and the sensation of Scully's legs touching his at the same moment, and suddenly lyrics once jaded and ignored had meaning-- correlation. Across the table their eyes had locked, gazes communicating shared fascination until she had lowered her eyes. Had it been uncertainty or guilt? Or was it all his imagination, her equaled interest?

Not after tonight, he thought while pouring the quarters into the machine. Could he be sure? She had warmed up to his transparent attempt at amusing conversation aboard Robert and Janet's boat, and hadn't balked at the closing space between them throughout the entire night. Was it just the alcohol? He wondered, punching in selections. Had she been generous and only tolerated his fumbling overtures?

* "It's now or never, come hold me tight, kiss me my darling..." *

Wary, Skinner glanced toward the bar, toward Scully and tensed immediately.

* "...be mine tonight... Tomorrow may be too late..." *

"See," the presumptuous man said to Scully, looking toward the speaker nearest them, "that's the king, just in time for our first dance."

Scully heard the rumba beat, and aside from getting rid of Forrest Gump, the memory of sitting across the table from Skinner in Memphis came crashing in on her.

* "... it's now or never, my love won't wait..." *

Scully shook her head. "I don't think so," she told him. "I don't think my…” She glanced past the man, “friend will like that at all."

"Is there a problem here?" Skinner, like some bastion of chivalry, appeared beside her, glaring at the guy she’d dubbed Gump.

* " ...when I first saw you, my heart was captured..." *

Gump looked back at him, defiant. "If you think so, yeah."

Skinner took a deep breath. "Yeah, I think so."

* "...it's now or never..." *

"I just wanna' dance this pretty lady here, is that so terrible?"

"No, not at all. But she said no. So, shove off."

The man narrowed his eyes on Skinner, then turned his attention to Scully. "Let's dance, pretty lady," he said reaching out past Skinner, grabbing at her arm.

Scully pulled her arm back out of his grasp. "No, thank you, I said."

He reached again; this time it was his arm that was caught by Skinner.

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

"Okay, now right... right-- no, to the right!" Byers exclaimed as he peered out the back window of the van.

"Go right," Mulder turned calling quickly to Langly, fingers digging into the vinyl seat back.

"My right or your right?" he demanded, anxiously checking all his mirrors, his long hair flipping back forth across his shoulders.

He had been dealing with this for the last twenty minutes and was getting good and sick of it. The van, stuck in reverse gear, was alone no easy job to maneuver backward down dark and narrow roads, but the backward instructions they were calling the whole time was making it that much worse.

"Just do the opposite of what they tell you," Frohike advised from the passenger's seat.

"I did that," Langly snapped back, gingerly pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose, careful of the plastic bandage holding them together, "and we went off the road."

"Go left then," Byers called to him, "quickly!"

"We're going to run off the road again," Mulder warned.

"Look," Byers was pointing straight ahead-- or rather straight back. "That must be it. Deer Point."

"Civilization," Frohike proclaimed as the hindered van rolled into the outskirts of town.

"Like this, we're surely going to attract the attention of local law enforcement," Byers stated aloud what Mulder had been thinking since this whole ordeal began.

This was outrageous, Mulder knew and had said so, but had been outnumbered in the voting process. It had been three against one in the decision to drive backward to town in the hopes of finding help to fix the van. What they were then likely going to find instead was a local yokel with a badge and an attitude.

 "Trouble ahead," Byers announced to everyone.

 "Cops?" Langly asked, nervously checking his mirrors again.

"Whoa," Frohike said, moving to the back seat for a better view.

"Saturday night in a small town," Byers observed as Langly brought the van to a slow halt so he too could see what was so riveting.

People were crowded together in a parking lot, some dashing back and forth from parked cars, others jockeying for better vantage points. There was too much action to see exactly what all the commotion was about, but it was undoubtedly a fight, and the most excitement in a long time apparently. The crowd parted suddenly and just long enough that the four could see the nucleus of the action; two men duking it out in front of what appeared to be the only open place in town...

Mulder looked to the building's sign slowly, alarmed as he read "Two Bucks bar and grill," with the word grill having long ago burnt out.

"Isn't that--" Byer’s began, peering out the back window.

"Skinner," Mulder finished, slack jawed.

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

Inside Two Bucks, to inharmonious soundtrack of Elvis Presley, like some poorly matched game of the Rock'em-Sock'ems, Scully watched as Skinner traded repeated punches with Gump, whose name turned out to be, according to those cheering him on from the crowd, Mike. And Mike wasn't faring well, here. He'd picked a fight with the wrong man.

There was still enough alcohol in Skinner's blood stream to ignite his ire, and obviously enough in this guy Mike to cloud his ability to see the difference in size between the two of them. That was all it took.

His arm grabbed by Skinner; Mike shoved him. Skinner shoved back, sending the man into a table. He came back with a vengeance and from there it moved out the door into the parking lot, like any worthwhile fist-fight would.

Now, Skinner having had the upper hand throughout the fight and Mike showing the signs of it, it looked like the guy's friends were just about to jump in and help.

Ignoring the ignorant and dirty slurs being shouted at both her and Skinner from the women in the crowd, Scully glanced around, trying to see past the on-lookers. In a small hamlet like this, it shouldn't take long before the local police showed up, but it had already been too long, even for a response time in the city. Where were they? She felt panic creeping into her throat.

Skinner stepped back from the fight, breathless and bleeding. He'd been on top of this fight, but the other man had managed to get in a few good punches that had left minimum damage.

"Had enough?" Mike wheezed.

Skinner narrowed his eyes on the man. "I was just about to ask you the same."

Mike swayed as he stared back at the confident man before him. "Screw you," he finally spit, "I'll show you enough!" He dove at Skinner, shouting, "I'll kick the sh-" He never finished, connecting with the larger man's fist on the shoulder, sending him first up and then down on his back.

Before Skinner could relish putting the guy down two men were on top of him, one at his back, the other with an arm around his neck.

"Skinner!" Scully tried to warn as the two had come out of the crowd.

"Yeah, Skinner!" The drunken air guitarist shouted from behind her.

She shot him a glare.

"Whoa!"

"Hey, look out!" People suddenly began to shout from the outer edge of the crowd. "Watch where the hell you're goin'!"

Scully heard it first, the buzzing sound of an engine approaching quickly. Then she saw it, the beat-up VW van, flying up next to the crowd. The side door flew open immediately and out bolted the cavalry.

First, Mulder came barreling through the throng of onlookers, then Frohike and Langly. Byers, though, seemed uncertain about bum-rushing the scene and held back, staying with the van.

"Hey, ever heard of a fair fight?" Mulder yelled at one of the men who had grabbed Skinner from behind.

“Back off, Slugo!" Langly shouted at others trying to enter from the crowd.

"Who the hell are you?" One of the men demanded of Frohike.

"Your worst nightmare, punk!"

Mulder yanked one man back from Skinner, allowing the AD to freely take care of the other.

While this was happening, one of the several women in the crowd, who had been yelling profanities at Scully, now decided to take her shot at the female agent.

"Scully!" Byers warned from his vantage point.

Just in time Scully turned, managing to dispatch her would-be attacker with a single well-placed kick to the mid-section.

Frohike stood amazed by not only the move but also the hike the move had put in Scully's skirt. "Scully-Foo," he said, breathless. "Awesome."

"He's got a gun!"

Everyone went still.

There was a man jabbing a finger in Mulder's direction. His sweatshirt had pulled up in the back, exposing his service weapon clipped in its holster to his jeans. Confusion and commotion began at once, rolling from the inner circle of the crowd outward. People made mad dashes for parked cars, while others only managed to crash into each other trying to get away. Mulder jumped back from the man he'd been trying to control, pulling his identification out. Flashing the badge case open, he rounded on the crowd, half-assuring, half warning them. "Federal agent!" He shouted, catching everyone's attention.

There were some, Mulder was fairly certain, who thrived on these moments, these dreadful flares of clarity and raw truth, a moment when one realized the situation had just gone from bad to worse. He realized this was one of those moments the instant he began waving the badge around.

"Mulder!" Skinner reprimanded the agent's bad timing and poor judgment. He was sadly outnumbered to be flashing his badge and authority around.

"Man," Langly seemed to recognize this fact as well, beginning to urge everyone toward the van, "come on, come on, let's get out of here... Frohike?"

The man was staring at Scully, as though hypnotized.

"Frohike?!" Langly yelled, tagging him in the shoulder. "Come on."

"Ouu," Frohike murmured, rubbing his shoulder.

"Everyone... stay calm," Mulder instructed the crowd, overhearing disbeliever's comments.

"That's not real," one said.

"He's full of shit," said another.

"Let's go, please," Langly kept urging Skinner and Scully along while Frohike followed, staring down the slack jawed on-lookers.

"Where's your secret decoder ring, G-man," someone yelled at Mulder.

"Remain where you are," he tried to sound as assertive as possible, but felt as though he was about to lose control.

Before his fears could manifest into reality, they were all in the van and moving away from the crowd. Langly, in the driver's seat again, had instinctively tried to throw the van into first gear.

"Just go," Frohike harshly instructed him.

"I am," he snapped back as the van tore away the crowd, backward.

"Go right," Byers yelled, his face close to the back window.

"No, left," Mulder quickly corrected the directions that would have sent them into a row of parked cars.

"What the hell are you doing?" Skinner demanded.

"Why are we going backwards?" Scully questioned, craning her head around wildly at the confused view.

"The gears are stuck in reverse," Byers briefly explained.

"We thought we could get it fixed before we picked you up," Frohike added.

"But we didn't expect to find this dinner theater re-enactment of Any-Which-Way-But-Loose," Langly declared while checking his mirrors.

"Left again," Mulder told him.

"Again? That'll be a circle?"

Skinner and Scully exchanged a doubtful glance.

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

February 16th Washington DC Edgar Hoover Building

An underlying hum seemed to emanate from the halls of the FBI as Scully passed through them, talking mixed with footfalls, the fleeting sounds of office equipment running through opened doors. Her own footsteps blended and mingled with the chorus of typical Monday morning sounds that had never seemed more obvious to her than they did this morning.

But this morning was different, today there was a very good chance she would have to speak to her superior. Which, again, in itself, was an odd awareness for her. Every day she moved among the halls of the FBI there was a chance-- the absolute and unmistakable likelihood she would speak to Skinner-- he was, after all, her direct superior.

Again, it wasn't just the chance of speaking to him that put this day in a whole new perspective for her, but it was speaking to him so soon, so immediately after what had… transpired over the weekend. There needed to be more time between then and now, a greater buffer than a mere day, and not even that considering the fact that they had parted company late Sunday morning.

She inwardly shuddered at the thought of their parting and what skeptical stares Mulder had stolen as she rode home with him and the Lone Gunmen. After Skinner had given them all a quick lesson in Marine taught resourcefulness by repositioning the gear linkage with the sparse selection of tools Langly offered, the man was dropped at his car he had left parked at the Alexandria, and almost instantaneously Mulder had turned to her, mouth open, saucy commentary dancing on the tip of his tongue, dancing in his eyes. She stifled his amused questions with a glare and a single word, "don't."

And now, not only would she undoubtedly find herself in the position of facing Skinner, but without question she would be facing her partner as well. He was far from naive, Mulder suspected something, and she would have to endure his questioning stare cast across the desk the rest of the day. She hesitated a few feet from the elevator, the thought of turning and going back home striking her for the umpteenth time since she pulled into the parking garage.

Take a day, she thought, a single day. Some time to separate herself from light-headed dances and unrequited champagne kisses, damp embraces and bar room shuffles to the rumba beat of vintage Elvis. Time to give sober consideration to her feelings and again, like four months ago, submerge them in the reality that nothing could or would ever transpire between her and Skinner. But unlike four months ago, when only the mere notion of sensuality had surfaced, the urgent and undeniable desires that had been ignited Saturday night were going to be intensely more difficult to put to bed—

She shook her head and turned from the elevator to head home.

She would call in from the cell phone when she got to the car. Keeping it simple to Mulder; errands to run, an appointment to keep, anything but sickness. He would suspect a lie to begin with but would be absolutely certain of it if she were to feign illness.

She was almost at the exit, almost outside of the building to her car, when Skinner rounded the corner into the hall in front of her. His glance, lagging his turn of the corner, he did a startled double-take when seeing her. Wariness seemed to flood his eyes-- but his ever-present aplomb did not waver.

A twinge of guilt overrode any inane sense of insecurity when she noted the traces of bruising and scrapes across his rugged features from Saturday night's scuffle.

"Morning, Agent Scully," he greeted her in his routinely taciturn manner.

"Sir," she replied with a dip of her chin, composed. Professional.

"Are you on your way out?" He asked.

"Uh," she hesitated, glancing left then right, her hand aimlessly motioning toward the exit then the hall before she recaptured control of it. So much for composure, she randomly thought, but kept going. "I was- I am... on my way to an appointment."

He silently studied her, making her feel uncomfortable. "I have an appointment," she repeated, inwardly cursing the redundancy.

Skinner nodded and flicked his eyes away from her, searching the hall an instant before looking at her again. "I would prefer this not be the first thing brought up this morning," he began, and Scully froze.

What? She thought. What would he prefer not to bring up first thing this morning? And here in the hall, in view and earshot of countless fellow employees, what? "But since you'll be out, I'll tell you now."

"Yes," she ventured, seeing that he too was stammering in his own formal way.

"Robert and Janet," he said, and the names rang like bells in Scully's head. She had all but completely forgotten those two and her concern for what had become of them. Her eyes went wide, and Skinner nodded seeing the reaction. "I received a call last night from Robert, apologizing to us both for the... incident. And that they were both very sorry they never had the chance to come back for us."

Scully frowned. "The chance?"

"They were picked up by the lake patrol and arrested for public intoxication," he explained looking half amused, half disgusted. This embarrassed him more than anything. These were friends of his, who had acted exceptionally poorly in front of her.

Scully's eyes pinched tight. "Oh."

"Yes," he said in response, squaring his shoulders. "I thought you would find this as interesting as I did."

She bucked her head, an indifferent grimace across her mouth. Interesting to say the least. But if it hadn't been for the Hunter's... She lifted her chin, her eyes meeting his gaze evenly.

A jolt ran through Skinner, twisting through his insides and down into the pit of his stomach. He would not let his feelings betray his firm mien. He had labored for over twenty-four hours to clear this nonsense from his system, to rebuild his impenetrable wall, and he refused to let one stunning glance destroy his hard work.

"Please be sure to tell Robert his apology is accepted." Scully said.

"I will. Have a good day, Agent Scully." He gave her a brief nod and started away.

 "Sir," she stopped him.

 When he turned his expression was taut. "Yes?"

 She took a step closer. "Your parent's money was spent well."

 Skinner looked at her, frowning first, then as he grasped her meaning his features opened with surprise.

 "Have a good day, sir." She said and smiled, then turned leaving him to wonder as she walked away.

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

Series continues with 'The Spider and the FBI'

[dr-jem-nutcase]

MvA: The M Files, take-a-peek pt. 3

For starters, thanks to all the likes, shares, & comments. I hope you've been enjoying this

Chapter 3

fake foods from Counterfeit Chemicals: a lot of fast food joints & every other generic food product in America. At least it tastes good...a lot of times. Like, Taco Bell is in no way authentic Mexican food but I LUV it 🌮

This place was Old Man Carl's in the movie and the same company that later brought BOB that ill-fated hotdog stand in San Francisco

That chart lol

Root beer flavored spinach. Sounds gross. I'd also be deathly afraid to try it. Reminds me of the late 1990s/early 2000s when Heinz made purple ketchup, which was NOT a success. But nowadays, different flavored snacks & desserts (particularly ice cream) can be hits every now and then. fake foods (or Old Man Carl's) could've been on the brink of creating a new trend! Okay, moving on

In case anyone has a hard time reading some of the text in the second panel, it says, "it doesn't taste any different from a real tomato". Sorry for the kerfuffle

Designed or created?

Btw, there IS actually a limited edition ranch flavored ice cream

Ranch-flavored tomato. Sounds great with a salad or some types of pizzas

Red 7 lol

This would be. mildly. terrifying. Wth was even in either one of those foods?

Runs away & claims BOB is homicidal. So judgmental & assuming! *fake shocked face*

How'd he grow an eye out of all this?

BOB's quite eloquent for being a "newborn"

Ooh! Monger's a sergeant now!

Eating the building isn't too different from both Blob movies but a much lighter tone than eating people alive. I never saw the newer one but I watched the OG one years ago. A guy walks into a doctor's office agonizing in pain and fear because his arm's covered in this goo that's eating up his arm and in a few minutes the guy is gone before the doctor could amputate the arm. Very G rated

Welp, so much for eating a police car (movie) or a city block (video game)

The third soldier's mouth is missing

Evidently they eat lead. Sorry, wrong story!

So BOB's eye is just part of his anatomy? Not some specially made artificial eyeball?

Like Link's chapter, this is a total jump away from the origin story in the movie. It's a good explanation for the genetically altered tomato & chemically altered dessert topping but a slightly censored telling of BOB's origin. That explosion on the two scientists was a bit satisfying. Again, kids' book *sigh*

Monger's hands are black

So...BOB named himself?

Big lips Monger isn't real. Big lips Monger can't scare you

"Lots of people don't have brains...a politician..." DW, is that supposed to be a burn? Hot dang! Let's get out some aloe vera, cold water, and maybe a trip to the burn unit at the nearest hospital

Some day, son. Some day, you will contribute to society. Just not today

I'm kinda surprised that this building hasn't toppled on top of anyone. Istg, Monger isn't afraid of anything

Now where's BOB gonna go? Also, is Link still on dry ice? Will BOB be on dry ice too? At the end of the OG Blob movie, the blob is frozen/encapsulated in ice and dropped off in the artic/antarctic. Did Monger go in this direction? Capture a monster and then freeze it like Han Solo? Hopefully that monster prison will be in the making soon. Like, REALLY soon. You can only freeze and store so many monsters! Btw, can you imagine trying to freeze the Invisible Man?

Again, this piece of work isn't mine. It all belongs to you know who. See you soon!

[dollsonmain]

Yeah I can’t get my old BDU pants, which used to be comically too large, up past my mid-thigh.

It’s funny how I was so tiny then and the military kept trying to convince me I was too fat. I was 124 lbs and they wanted me to be 110.

My lowest weight when anorexia was winning was 120. That’s when I was eating very little once a day or less. For two years in the military I ate a bag of baked potato chips and a jar of salsa per day and that was it.

I don’t feel any different at 170, to be honest. I mean, I feel the same amount of “too fat” now as I did then. Eating disorders are as wild as societal fatphobia is.

There was a stretch of time (2003 - 2005) where That Guy would buy nothing but 2 boxes of Hamburger Helper and one pound of beef per week, and one cheap trip to taco bell per week where we’d split a combo meal, and that was our food for the week. We’d use half a pound of beef per box of Helper and stretch those two boxes out for the week. I couldn’t do anything since I had no money then. I was 124 lbs then, too.

I hate Hamburger Helper.

Then in 2005 we moved to where I was able to walk to work (words cannot express how much I miss that, genuinely, and if I think about losing that ability too much I want to die, which I say with no exaggeration), and I did, and I started earning some money, and I started buying food. I was 135 then, and maintained that weight until I got pregnant.

After my son was born I leveled out around 140 and stayed there until I hit 38 and then BLOOP up to 160, then my kidneys gave out and I went down to 125 again for a year or two (anorexia was winning again), then back up to 170.

I have no money, now, but I have a little leverage with a kid in the house. It’s going to be a struggle to have access to food again when my son grows up and moves on.

I hate money.

I need money.

Need a car to get a job, need a job to get a car.

I guess one benefit of living in the type of households I’ve been living in (tl:dr abusive from birth to now) is that it’s taught me how to “don’t think, just do, to survive” which means I can eat, now, in spite of myself. And kind of in spite of That Guy, too. I have to admit some of my weight gain is to spite him.

Anyway I’m thinking about it because my pants are uncomfortably tight and I’ve caught myself wanting to be skinny again a few times lately, but had to sit down and think about why.

because That Guy keeps bringing up that he likes skinny young girls and he is my “partner” at the moment

society keeps telling me I’m supposed to be skinny and young and especially smooth and tight even though I’m no longer young

I have an eating disorder that also keeps telling me I’m supposed to be skinny and young and have smooth, tight skin

my clothes are tight and uncomfortable moreso than they were before and I don’t want to get new ones

None of those are good reasons. There are no good reasons.

I’d work on fit or at least strong if my body could take it.

[eroticandawkward]

Hi, love your guys work! Would you be willing to write for Cecil Dennis with a GN! Reader with Cockwarming? I know with a GN! Reader that may be a bit tough, so if you want, you can make it oral (that is if you’re comfortable writing that).

💖💖💖

Thank you for requesting! I hope u like it

Pairing: Cecil Dennis x GN!Reader

Warnings: EXPLICIT, bdsm dynamics, dom!reader, cockwarming, reader's "cock" can be interpreted as a strap on or an actual penis

Cecil whines on top of you, trying to still his hips. He curls his hands in a death grip in your shirt- probably stretching it out, but you're pretty sure he'd die if you made him let go. His stubble tickles your neck as he shifts and tries to get comfortable. The moment he relaxes slightly you snap your hips.

"Baby, stop squirming. I'm trying to watch the new She-Hulk episode."

"Fuck-" Cecil chokes out. His neglected dick twitches against your stomach.

"Sorry sweetheart," you purr, stroking his hair. "This show is just so dramatic." That's a lie. Jen Walters isn't even her hulk form at the moment. But there's no way for Cecil to know that, pressed chest-to-chest with you and drunk on your cock.

He'd been needier than usual lately, practically pouncing on you when you got home. The intensity with which Cecil loved- with which he did anything- could be overwhelming. Normally you loved it, loved fucking him against the table, then on the couch, then on the bed, until he couldn't even form words. But after 9 hours on your feet for work, the last thing you want to do was extended physical activity.

"That's okay honey," Cecil had said when you'd collapsed face-first onto the couch and mumbled an apology. "It's not a big deal." He had even made you dinner (he ordered taco bell).

You have no doubt that he meant what he said. But damn, he really was so cute when he was trying to take care of you.

So you came up with a frankly brilliant compromise.

Cecil’s head bonks against your shoulder, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“You okay, baby?” you ask. You stroke the pad of your thumb across his jaw. 

You get a half moan, half whine as an answer.

Tsking, you let the rest of your fingers grip his jaw and tilt his head up so he’s looking at you. “Use your words, Cec.”

“Good,“ he groans. “Fuck, s’ good.” He leans forward and kisses you.

Sighing happily against his mouth, you wrap your arm around his waist to bring him closer. Time slips away as you get lost in each other, breathing in the same breaths, rhythmic heartbeats under warm skin.

When you finally pull away, another episode is about to start.

“Oh damn, guess I have to watch this one too,” you say, grinning at him mischievously.

“You’re such a meanie,” Cecil pouts, even as you feel his dick twitch against you.