#this pair of underwear is from when I weighed heavier and it’s too big for me now 😂

[thefreckledgymrat]

“I don’t need gravity, I just need growth”

[hotpinkhoshi]

let me (m) | park chanyeol

pairing: park chanyeol x f! reader

genre: little angst, fluff, smut

word count: 2.5k

summary: after a rough day in the studio, chanyeol knows a surefire way to make himself feel better. 

a/n: umm hi everybody! i know this may not be what you’re used to or what you expected if you haven’t been following my blog. i’ve been captured by park chanyeol, and i’m still coming to terms with it but i desperately wanted to try to write a cute fluffy drabble for him. it ended up at 2.5k and a little smutty. also, i haven’t been writing as much as i’d like to lately, so... forgive me if you can tell that i’m a bit rusty!

You first noticed something was off when Chanyeol was quiet entering your shared apartment. Normally, he’d be calling out for you or for Toben, or perhaps singing softly to himself. More often than not, he was in an exceptional mood when he got off work and finally came home to you. 

But today was different. Chanyeol simply walked through the front door and locked it behind him, setting his keys onto the wooden table set up in the entryway. You stood in the kitchen, halfway done chopping up the veggies you needed for tonight’s dinner. Toben was curled under the kitchen table, more than happy to be left on his own with his favorite stuffed toy. 

“Yeol? Is that you?” you called, after noticing that he didn’t greet you as normal. 

“It’s me,” came his reply, his tone low and without inflection. 

You listened as his slippered steps carried through the apartment into the kitchen, setting your knife down and wiping your hands on a towel. When you turned to look at Chanyeol, you could read it all over his face. 

Chanyeol didn’t often have bad days. He had long days, tiring days that drained his energy near his breaking point, but he rarely had days that had his mouth fixed into a frown and a crease settling deep between his brows. Today seemed to be one of those days. 

“Oh, babe,” you said, your own mouth turning down into a sympathetic pout. “What happened?”

Something about the way he looked, ears sticking out from under his beanie, enormous hoodie draped over half his body, and his pink house slippers just made you want to melt into a puddle. The pathetic, yet adorable expression was just the cherry on top. 

“Mmph,” he grunted, closing the distance between your bodies to wrap his arms around your waist. He ducked down, burying his head into your neck. “Don’t wanna talk about it,” he mumbled as you circled your arms around his torso. 

The whine in his voice let you know that whatever had him so pouty was nothing serious. More than likely, it was a particularly difficult day in the studio, one of those sessions where nothing seemed to come out right.

You stood there for as long as he needed you to, letting his warmth envelop you completely. Bit by bit, you felt some of the tension leave his body. No words were needed as he relished in the comfort that your presence brought him. 

“Baby,” he finally said, pressing a sweet kiss to your neck. “Can dinner wait? Kinda just want to cuddle with you for a while.” 

Years into your relationship, and he could still make your heart swell as if you were still in the midst of falling in love. Even something as simple as a kiss, expertly placed right at your sweet spot, was enough to have your pulse racing. 

“Of course,” you answered, arms sliding around to his front so you could clasp his hands in yours. Once he’d pulled away enough for you to see his face, you leaned up on your tip toes to place a kiss to the freckle on his nose. 

You let Chanyeol lead you back to the bedroom where he didn’t bother flipping the light switch, just tugged you to the bed. After he flopped onto his stomach, you stifled a giggle and climbed in after him, snuggling up to his side. 

In the process of maneuvering into the desired cuddling position, Chanyeol’s beanie slipped off to reveal his wildly messy hair, making him look all the more kissable. Especially with that little pout and puppy dog eyes he was giving you. 

“How was your day?” he asked softly. He had scooted down the bed, his face resting against your stomach as his arms looped around your waist. 

You shrugged and rested your hands on his broad shoulders. “It was good. Missed you, though,” you told him honestly. 

Chanyeol chuckled, his breath tickling your stomach where your shirt had ridden up. “I always miss you.” 

“Yeah?” you asked. 

“Mm. Can you play with my hair?” 

Your lips quirked into a smile as you slipped a hand up the nape of his neck into the soft waves of his hair. The man might have been a head taller than you and be able to pick you up as if you weighed nothing, but he had no shame asking for you to rub his back or play with his hair when he couldn’t sleep, or needed some extra comfort. 

“Is everything okay?” you whispered. 

Chanyeol hummed, eyes still closed, and you felt his shoulders shrug. “Just wasn’t a good day. Thought I could finish the song today but I just couldn’t get it right.” 

You could hear the disappointment in his voice, directed at himself alone. He was hard on himself when his creativity didn’t cooperate with his plans, and you absolutely understood. In his industry, he was constantly working towards a deadline no matter how inspired or drained he was feeling. 

“I’m sorry baby.” You slid your fingers through his hair, petting the back of his head softly. Chanyeol brought you closer and nuzzled into your tummy, his eyelashes tickling your skin. 

“S’okay,” he whispered. 

A few minutes of silence passed between the two of you, just enjoying each other’s company in the quiet of the home that you shared together. Your eyes fell shut after a while, though your fingers continued to card through Chanyeol’s hair. 

Just as you were nearly drifting off, you barely registered the feeling of his body shifting, ever so slightly. Then he was pushing your shirt up, revealing a larger expanse of your torso. 

Goosebumps formed as Chanyeol pressed his lips against your skin, soft and featherlight. You shivered, your eyes fluttering open. 

“Yeol.”

“Yeah?” 

“What’cha doing?” 

You felt him smile mid-kiss. “Mm, I’m just cuddling.”

Running your tongue over your teeth, you stifled a gasp when his touch traveled lower, dangerously close to the waistband of your leggings. 

“Baby,” you whispered, lifting your head to stare down at him. 

You were met with a mischievous stare, that glint in his eye telling you everything you needed to know. Maybe he’d had a bad day, but Chanyeol was a man that knew what he wanted. There was usually little to no room for persuading him otherwise. 

“What? You don’t like it?” 

A kiss under your bellybutton had you swallowing instead of answering at first, the movement of your fingers in his hair coming to a halt. 

“Oh, no, I do. I just… didn’t think you’d be in the mood. For this.” 

Chanyeol only hummed and shook his head, dragging his lips down even lower. His arms untangled from under your body, big hands traveling along your sides, warming you up with his touch. 

“Can I?”

His voice was quiet, a seemingly innocent question. If you had answered no, that you simply weren’t in the mood or you were too tired, you knew he would back off. But for him, the answer was always yes. 

At first, you’d been embarrassed how quickly he could have you spreading for him, folds dripping with arousal and voice begging for him to touch you. But Chanyeol had quickly shown that you had no reason to be bashful around him. 

“Mhm,” you replied, hips lifting as your leggings were peeled from your legs. “But I wanna make you feel better.”

Chanyeol looked up at you then, his big eyes twinkling with stars and the sweetest smile on his lips. “Trust me, this will make me feel better.” 

His smile was so contagious that you found yourself laughing softly, fingers trailing down to the tips of his ears. You squeezed the cartilage playfully and wiggled your hips as warmth traveled through your entire body. 

As always, Chanyeol took his time. He liked to build you up, make you quiver for him and beg, before finally diving in and giving you what you wanted. It drove you insane in the most glorious way. 

You got comfy, enjoying the gentle kisses he was peppering onto your stomach and hips, his hands gripping your sides to hold you in place. At this point, he knew your body and the way you liked to be handled. He knew you loved when he put his hands on you and handled you however he pleased. 

“Legs up,” he whispered, at the same time he scooted down the bed until his head was between your thighs. 

You obeyed, lifting each of your legs to hook them over his shoulders. When Chanyeol went down on you, he liked to press as close to you as he could, have your thighs pressing so tightly into his face that you could feel each clench of his jaw. And you couldn’t complain. 

“My pretty girl,” Chanyeol muttered, as if to himself, as he leaned in to kiss your thighs. 

“Do you have to tease?” you asked, huffing softly and jerking your hips. Just ten minutes ago, you hadn’t been in the mood in the slightest, and now he had you squirming and praying for him to get on with it. 

Chanyeol chuckled, the deep tone sending tingles down to your fingertips. “I just wanna enjoy you. Is that okay?” 

It was a sweet sentiment, but you knew him well enough to know that it was mostly because he wanted to drive you crazy. “I guess.” 

For a few more minutes, Chanyeol dragged it out, though you were grateful when he pulled back briefly to remove your underwear. His kisses got closer and closer to the place you needed him most and you found yourself breathing heavier, pulse racing with anticipation. 

“Baby,” you started to whine, just as Chanyeol flattened his tongue to lick a stripe up your center. You gasped, then groaned, fingers digging back into his hair to squeeze tightly. 

The act encouraged him. He delved in and got to work, latching his mouth around your clit while flicking his tongue back and forth at a quick, practiced pace. You were loud, now, your moans and whimpers echoing throughout the apartment. 

Chanyeol alternated between sucking and licking your clit, all while he held your thighs around his shoulders, his fingers digging into your flesh to keep you in place.

“Right there, oh-” you whined. “Feels so good, Yeol, you’re so good…” 

Maybe this was why he had been so adamant about tending to you, rather than letting you take care of him. As much as you wanted to get on your knees for him and cheer him up, you knew he needed this. He needed to be reminded that he was a man, capable of anything, including making you come with just his mouth. 

Words were tumbling from your lips, praises of his mouth and his tongue, the way he was making you feel, and how much you loved him. It seemed the more you egged him on, the faster he went, the more determined he was to send you towards your peak. 

You lifted your head and stared down at him because you loved to watch, and you were not disappointed. Chanyeol’s face was buried between your thighs but his eyes, they were open, staring back up at you. 

“That’s it baby, fuck. You’re the best. Right there, yeah,” you whispered, gulping as you drew your bottom lip between your teeth. 

There was determination in his eyes, a dangerous and exhilarating stare that you had come to know very well. You could feel the pressure building and the heat practically radiating off your skin the closer you got to the edge. 

You started to squirm, both trying to draw yourself closer and further from the overwhelming pleasure at the same time. Chanyeol didn’t miss a beat, tightening his arms around your thighs and shoving his face deeper into your heat. 

“I’m g-” you stuttered, fingers clawing at his hair, the hood of his sweatshirt, his sleeve, until both hands found the back of his head and gripped it firmly. “I’m gonna-” 

Chanyeol hummed against you, the deep vibrations like a shockwave straight through your entire body. The tension snapped and you cried out, nearly sobbing from the euphoria he’d given you in such a short time. 

Your body jerked with each wave of pleasure, back arching off the bed and hips wriggling despite how hard he was holding onto your flesh. His mouth never stopped licking and sucking, creating obscene noises that only made your orgasm more intense. 

When it all became too much, you found yourself bending away from him, pushing at his head to avoid overstimulation. There was a time and place for that, and to be honest, he didn’t have the stamina for it today. 

So he just kissed your skin, gently stroking your thighs and kissing over your stomach as you came down from your high. Your chest heaved with deep breaths and when you opened your eyes, you found they had been clamped shut so tightly there were stars in your vision at first. 

Once he was hovering over you, you wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him down for a kiss. You tasted yourself and smiled, not ashamed to enjoy it. When you pulled away, Chanyeol tucked his face into your neck just as he had earlier, though this time he felt a thousand times lighter. 

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he whispered with a gentle kiss under your ear. 

“No, thank you,” you replied with a laugh, ruffling your hand through his hair. 

Chanyeol chuckled into your neck before he flopped back over onto his back, a blissful smile on his face as he stared up at the ceiling. 

“At least I know I can be the best at something today,” he confessed, glancing over at you with a smirk. “Just call me the pussy eating champion.” 

“Oh, shut up,” you told him, though you found yourself giggling while you dressed your bottom half.

You turned over once you’d pulled your leggings on, settling onto your stomach so that you could prop yourself onto your elbows. There was an obvious tent in his joggers, proving to you that eating you out was just as pleasurable for him as it was for you. 

But when you reached out for his belt buckle, Chanyeol opened his eyes. “As much as I would love that, I’m starving.” 

“You’d rather eat than have me suck you off?” you asked, eyebrows high on your forehead. 

Chanyeol just shrugged and climbed off the bed, reaching for your hands. When he pulled you to stand, his eyes were full of the kind of adoration that could only exist between two people that were truly, deeply in love. 

“Later.” 

The rest of the evening you spent in the kitchen, finishing dinner as a team and eating on the couch while you found something mind numbing to play on the TV. You didn’t end up returning the favor, but neither of you seemed to care too much as you dozed off together on the couch, limbs and hearts intwined. 

[berkblockman]

Mess this up // Bill Hader x reader

Pairing: Bill Hader x reader Word count: 2027 Warnings: Smut, oral sex (female recieving), age gap, lenguage, Summary: You’ve been dating Bill for a few months now, but you fear that what other people would say about your age difference will make him second guess your relationship.

When you had started dating Bill, everything had gone great. You had a great time whenever you were with him, and you felt like a teenage girl all over again. It felt strange since you hadn’t felt that way in a very long time, but it was also exciting. You had almost forgot what waking up next to someone else was like or even what having a date with someone was like. You had been so caught up in your job for the last years that you hadn’t had time to work on your love live and, to be honest, you weren’t even worried about it for the whole time you had been single. But now that you two had gotten together, you were glad to have someone by your side, especially someone as loving as Bill. And you weren’t the only one feeling that way.

He also was an adorable dork that, after his divorce, hadn’t expected to get himself involved into any kind of romantic relationship. He felt like he was way too awkward for women to like him, especially now that he was on his 40’s. When he started to catch feelings for you, he decided that the best for everyone was to ignore them and wait for them to fade away. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel uncomfortable around him and ruin the friendship you both had. What a surprise it was for him when you had told him that you liked him too. He was so shocked that he wasn’t able to fully believe that it was all actually happening at first, it took him at least a week to conceive that you two were now a couple. But he was so happy about it that it was moving. Bill would try to make sure that you were comfortable all the time and, at first, he would even ask for your permission before he kissed you or tried to hold your hand. You found this extremely adorable of him as you told him that he didn’t need to ask permission for that kind of stuff, but he would do it anyway, just in case.

For the first weeks of your relationship, you kept a low profile and told no one about it. And it was great just to spend time together, away from work and enjoying your free time with each other, without anyone else. But both of you knew that, sadly, it wasn’t always going to be like that. You had work to attend and families to take care of.

For example, Bill had his daughters, and when they were staying with him on weekends, you didn’t dear go near his place even though he insisted on you to stay the night there. The main reason was that you didn’t feel that you were ready to meet them yet, as you were afraid that they wouldn’t like you and that being a problem to your relationship.

Also, you were afraid to make your relationship public and everyone judging you for dating an older man. You loved Bill deeply, but you feared the many things that could get in the way between the two of you, so you were trying your best to avoid those things by trying to keep your relationship a secret. You knew that it couldn’t be like that forever, yet you tried to make it last for as long as you could.

What you didn’t know was that your strange behavior was making your boyfriend feel insecure and anxious. He didn’t understand why you didn’t want to go out in public with him or why you wouldn’t want to hang out with him on the weekends, when his daughters were at home.

At first, he tried not to make a big deal out of it, but when nothing changed he knew he had to talk to you about it. You were both sitting in the sofa at your place and he was as nervous as he thought he could ever be when he asked you if there was something wrong. He was afraid that you had fallen out of love with him, or that you had never even loved him in the first place and that you thought being with him was a mistake. As you answered that everything was good, he tried to convince himself that it was his anxiety talking. But still, he didn’t feel that everything was ‘good’.

Before either of you could realize you were in the middle of an argument. You knew you needed to open up to him about what was really bothering you, but you didn’t want him to think that you were ashamed of being with him or anything like that. You couldn’t find the right words to tell him, and as the dispute got bigger, you tried to make excuses to avoid answering his questions.

“Why can’t we talk clearly about this?” Bill asked, hiding his face between his hands and sighting. “Something isn’t working out, let’s discuss it.”

You stayed silent, still trying to find the right way to confront this. You had tried so hard not to mess everything up, and yet you felt like you had done it anyway. Maybe if you had told him earlier, you would have avoid all of this to happen, but it was too late now.

“I-I just don’t want to mess this up…” You felt a few tears running down your face and then hid yourself behind your hands. Worried, Bill kneeled in front of you.

“What do you mean by ‘mess this up’?” He placed a hand on your thigh as he tried to calm you down.

“I’m afraid that if people find out about us then they start to talk about our age difference and that you get to think that we shouldn’t be together…” The words came out of your mouth with difficulty as you tried to explain yourself. “Or that I meet your daughters and that they hate me, and then you…”

Bill grabbed your hand in his and kissed it gently, trying to let you see that everything was okay. Then he looked at you in the eye.

“I am in love with you.” He assured you. “And whatever people say about us isn’t going to change that.” His blue eyes were on you as he smiled at you sweetly. “If you are worried about meeting the girls is okay, you don’t have to meet them yet. But they are going to love you.”

You looked down as Bill placed a hand on your face and cleaned your tears away. Watching his reaction, you felt so stupid for not telling him about it earlier…

“I understand that you get nervous about this stuff, but don’t keep it to yourself.” His voice was soft and calming as he talked. “Next time, tell me what’s going on inside that head of yours and we’ll work anything out…” You grabbed his hand in yours and squeezed it tenderly. “I don’t want to mess this up either.”

As you heard him say those words, you couldn’t help but smile. You felt so happy about the fact that you had finally worked that out that you wanted nothing but to kiss him. And so you did, you leant in and pressed your lips against his. It didn’t take long for him to kiss you back and place a hand on the back of your neck, trying to get you even closer to him. You two were so focused on the kiss that you just let yourselves go, letting the kisses get deeper and more passionate.

Soon, you left the spot where you were sitting and sat on his thighs, both of you on the floor now. The kisses you shared suddenly had become a whole make out session as you felt Bill’s hands running up and down your body. You placed your hand on the zipper of his pants, ready to undo it, but he stopped you.

“I’d make love to you right here and right now, but maybe we should go to a more comfortable place.” He whispered in your ear as he kissed your neck. His voice was husky at this point and the way he said those words made your knees weak.

Feeling the heat of anticipation invading your body, you took his hand and guided him to your bedroom, where you started to kiss him again. You felt your breathing getting heavier as Bill laid you down on bed and placed himself on top of you, careful not to let his whole weigh on you. As he started to undressed you, he kissed every inch of your skin, covering you in goosebumps. You were feeling more and more turned on by seconds, and you couldn’t hold back a moan when he placed his hand between your thighs and started to massage your clit over your underwear.  

“Bill…” You moaned his name, your fingers digging on the sheets to try and release some of the tension building up.

“You’re so beautiful…” He looked up at you as he finally got rid of your panties, eyes glued to your face. “It’s truly distracting.”

The moment he put his mouth on you, you gasped, feeling his tongue making circular movements around your clit. Your whole body was shivering as he kept moving his mouth on you and you placed a hand on the back of his head to get him closer to you. You were so wet at this point, that you felt that you could reach your climax anytime. You tried to hold yourself back, tried not to cum yet, but at that moment Bill decided to finger you. Every inch of your body was trembling as the feeling of pleasure invaded you.

“Just fuck me already…” You muttered with difficulty and closed your eyes. You knew that you wouldn’t last much longer if he kept that way. “Please.” You begged.

Doing as he was told, he moved away from you leaving you almost at the edge. He looked at you as he started to undress himself, feeling your stare on him as you watched him in awe. After he got rid of the last piece of fabric, he placed himself on your entrance and lent in to kiss you one more time before entering into you slowly. You bit your lip to hold back a moan as you felt him moving carefully inside of you, trying not to hurt you.

“Don’t hold yourself back…” He mumbled, his breathing was almost as heavy as yours as he felt your walls around his thick cock. “I want to hear everything.”

You felt a shiver when he whispered that in your ear. Getting even more turned on by those words, you started to moan loudly as he thrusted into you. Bill kissed your neck again grabbing you by your hips, making the penetration even deeper as he increased the pace of his movements. In no time, you felt yourself at the edge of your orgasm again. Almost as if he could feel it, he started to make circular motions around your clitoris with his thumb, pushing you over the edge one more time.

Before you could even warn him, you felt that familiar shiver taking over your whole body as you let one final moan out of your mouth. That was all Bill needed to reach his own climax. He thrusted into you a few final times before getting out of you and laying by your side.

Still trying to catch your breathe, you got closer to him so you could embrace him. He embraced you back and kissed your forehead in a loving way, both of you feeling relaxed and deeply tired.

“I love you.” You whispered as you felt him caressing your body attentively. Bill smiled almost intuitively as he heard your words and hugged you tighter.

“I love you too.” He mumbled back with a tired smile as he brushed your hair out of your face and placed it behind your ear. Before he could even realize, you had fallen asleep.

[shannygoatgruff]

Stay Safe, Stay Home Writing Challenge - (Call me if you need anything) @waiting4inspiration​

Genre: Romance

Pairing: Modern Ivar x OC

Warning: Language, sexual conversation, insecurity

Rating: M

Chapter 5 || Chapter 7

Chapter 6 

“Ivar, if you don’t take those damn close off.” Cash playfully rolled her eyes, while holding her hand out.  She could see about million different emotions running across his face, and then the one that settled in his eyes.  Fear.  “Look. You’re going to catch pneumonia if you don’t get out of those wet clothes.  Just take them off.  There’s nobody here but me.”  

Ivar desperately wanted to get out of his clothes.  He was miserable, cold, and wet.  His shirt was sticking to him like a second skin.  His sweatpants weighed a ton and were getting heavier by the second.  The wet fabric against his skin was making him itch.  Did Bubbe switch detergents without telling me? 

If he didn’t get out of his pants soon his legs would start to chafe against his braces and he didn't want that.  That would mean he would be in Austria for the next two weeks needing to apply an anti-itch/anti-inflammatory steroid cream to them and he would not be able to wear his braces at all while he was doing that treatment.  No braces meant no walking.  No walking meant no going out and seeing the city with Cash.  No going out with Cash meant, no...anything.  Then why did he come on this trip in the first place?

He couldn’t move.  Not yet anyway.  He would probably be more comfortable taking his clothes off if, say, the room was dark and they were about to have sex. But right now?  It was the middle of the afternoon, for God’s sake.  Her curtains were wide open and all of the rain-soaked pervs of Vienna who might be standing in the enclosed garden could see.

“What if…” she walked over to her suitcase and started rummaging through it. She pulled out an over sized t-shirt and pair of comfy sweats that she’d stolen from her brother from her bag and held them up.  She looked at them, then looked at him.  

Ivar burst out laughing.  “That will never fit.  I have a phat ass.  And that is with a P.H.”  

“Yes, you do.” She mumbled under breath as she walked over to him. “These were my brother’s.  I don’t know if they’ll fit, but you could try them.”

Ivar looked at the clothes apprehensively.  Why didn’t they just go back to his hotel?  Why did it have to start pouring down rain in the middle of their day out? Why didn’t he think to check the weather before they left his room?  Why didn’t he have an umbrella?  There were so many things he could have differently to have avoided being in this situation. 

Cash weighed all of the options for a minute and briefly consulted with the people in her head.  There was clearly only one solution to this problem. As her heart rate increased, she chewed on her bottom lip to swallow her nerves. Without another thought, she reached for the bottom of her long-sleeved tee and pulled it over her head.  

“What are you doing?” Ivar asked in surprise.  He couldn’t take his eyes off of her dark green lace bra.  It was the kind of strappy bra he liked - the kind that had the two extra straps near the cups that landed across her chest creating the perfect illusion of cleavage.  The bra was nice, but to Ivar, it looked exquisite on Cash.  

She didn't have the biggest chest he'd ever seen, but he was more than impressed by it.  Her breasts would fit perfectly in his large hands and he wouldn't have to worry about any spillage.  He could do a lot to her with just one hand and not need to worry about how to hold her up and use both hands to support a boob.  

Ivar cleared his throat and quickly released his hand when he noticed he balled it into a fist at the thought of holding her breasts.  

He forced his eyes to look anywhere other than her chest.  He found that he had an equally hard time trying not to stare at the way her pulse quickened just above her collarbone.  Or at her naturally flat stomach with the cutest outie navel, he'd ever seen.  She had a dark line that trailed from her belly button down into her underwear and he had to admit, he was very curious about. Her hips weren't quite proportionate to her waist - had she a little bigger, her body shape would have made more sense.  But as it were, she was the most beautiful woman Ivar had ever seen.

Cash started to pick at her nail polish.  She felt like an idiot.  “If you’re going to be awkward and embarrassed, then so am I.”  She walked over to him and handed him a towel. 

Turning to the mirror just to the left of him, she looked at her reflection.  “I mean, what do you have to be embarrassed about?  You’re the one with the six-pack and I’m the one in practically a training bra.  And look at my damn hair.  I look like a drowned rat.  Do you know how long it took me to Frankenstein together the products I needed to tame these curls? Now, look at it.  In a few hours, I’m gonna be looking like I just jumped off a zebra in Wakanda some damn where." 

Ivar touched her bare shoulder and felt her flinch under his fingers. He searched her eyes when she looked into his.  “I cannot understand everything when you talk so fast.”  He gave her a boyish smile before bending down to softly kiss her lips, “You have nothing to be embarrassed about. You are beautiful.” 

Cash pursed her lips in a manner that made only one cheekbone raise.  Damn him and those soft lips.  She watched as he removed his wet shirt without protest. 

Oh, the body on that man.  She reached out and took his wet shirt from his hand, “Gonna hang this up to dry.” Walking to the bathroom towel rack she tried to steady herself with several cleansing breaths.  “You know what we need?” She called out as she walked back into the room.

“A drink?”  Ivar asked hopefully.  He needed something to get himself together.  He hadn’t been this nervous since he was 13 and the time Hvitserk walked in on him masturbating.   

Cash shook her head, “Music.”  She grabbed her phone and looked for a playlist.  She and Ivar always had music in common.  Some nights, they would spend hours on the phone discussing music and sending each other songs and videos that they thought the other would like. 

Though their tastes varied on some things, for the most part, they seemed to agree on a lot.  He liked a little more of that emo shit that she wasn’t into, while he thought she liked too much of old school hip hop.  They would have just to agree that he was wrong and she was right and then they could live happily ever after.  “What are you feeling?”

“Cold.” 

She flashed her eyes at him.  “Fine…random it is.”  She turned on her portable Beats speaker and bobbed her head when the sounds of Lizzo filled the room. She walked over the refrigerator and pulled out a beer for Ivar and walked it over to him. “So, are you going to stand in that spot the whole day?”

“No.”  He had been standing there debating if he was going to take off his pants. His legs were hurting from standing still so long and not moving, plus he was itchy and wet.  But, if he took off his pants, then he would have to also remove his braces. That would mean he would have to crawl. Cash hadn’t seen that, yet. Talking about it was one thing; seeing it was something different, entirely. “Thank you.” He tilted the beer in her direction.

Cash nodded reading his expression.  She knew that he wasn’t trying to take his pants off.  This was a big step for him.  Not only was he embarrassed about showing her about his impairment, but she was pretty sure he was worried about seeming like a creeper if he just started getting naked.  He just told her last night that he needed a little time.  What if he thought that she thought that if he took his clothes off she was taking that as a sign of it being sexy time? Oh God, she wasn’t even thinking that!  She just didn’t want the man to freeze to death.  

All she knew was somebody needed to do something soon because she was cold and her jeans were sticking to her most uncomfortably.  Wet denim and lace were not a good feeling no matter the porno titles tried to have people believe.

Ivar closed his eyes and leaned back until he made contact with the door.  He slowly slid down to the floor into a seated position.  Without looking up, he removed one shoe and sock, followed by the other.  He opened his beer and downed almost half of it, before letting out a silent belch.  “I have to warn you. My legs are small…no.  Ah, skinny?” He released his hair from the hairband that was holding it back in a bun and let the wet strands free before rolling up one wet pant leg and loosening the brace's straps.

Cash stood still watching the way Ivar kept his head down and his hair fell forward blocking the view of his face. She knew he was doing this on purpose so he wouldn't have to look at her.  She could tell by the way he was fumbling around with the straps that he wasn't paying attention to the braces either. He wasn't embarrassed about his legs - Ivar was ashamed. 

“Hey, Ivar?”  Cash looked him the eye when he raised his head.  “My legs are skinny, too.”  She unbuttoned her jeans and wiggled out of them.  She knew she should have bought them a little bigger, but she was trying to be cute.  She wondered if she had an imprint on her stomach from the waistband of her jeans.  Her Gigi always told her she had to pay for beauty.  Buying these damn jeans too small was payment enough. But it was good for him to see her struggling with her pants. Maybe it would help him get rid of this idea that he had to be a certain way for her.

He shouldn’t be looking at her like that.  “I told you, I only had one serious girlfriend before in my life, Ja?”  He said as he removed the first brace.  He rolled up the other pant leg and began loosening the straps on that brace, “She and another woman are the only people to ever see them before, other than my family and doctors.”

Cash continued to run the towel down her legs before wrapping it around her waist. She walked over to where Ivar was and took a seat in front of him.  She watched in silence as he scooted around to pull his pants from his hips and off of his legs.  She handed him his towel and tried not to stare as he began to dry himself. 

Admittedly, his legs were strange. To start, they were extremely pale, compared to the rest of him. Then the tops of his thighs were shaped normally, but the lower half of his quads started to taper inward toward his knees. From there, his legs were very thin and heavily scarred; the right more so than the left.  “Why?”

“You see them.”  He said, slapping his thigh.  “Not exactly an advertisement for men’s shorts.”  He covered his legs with the towel and picked up his beer and took another sip.

Cash raised her brow at him, “Well they’re bigger than mine.  She held her leg out to him and laughed when he ran his finger down her foot. 

So now that the Phase I of Humiliating Ivar was out of the way, he might as well get on with the rest of it, “You are aware I cannot walk now?  I will have to crawl…”

“You don’t need to do that.”

“What?” 

“You don’t need to preface everything for me,” she wrinkled her forehead at him with a disapproving look.  “It’s really not a  good look for you.”

Ivar looked at her confused. “I don’t know what preface is,” he folded his hands in his lap and waited for her to continue.

“You keep trying to warn…no, prepare me for what’s about to happen like I’m going run away or be shocked by something.  Well, I’m still here. You haven’t shocked me yet.”  She reached out and put her hand on a scar on his shin, “Except maybe with how fine you are.”  She noticed how cold her hand was against his warm skin and wondered if she should remove it.  He didn’t seem affected by them, so she left it there for a moment.  “Believe me, I have a ton-o-shit that I’m self-conscious about. We are just going to have to work through that shit together.”

Ivar laid his cold hand on top of Cash’s and gently threaded his fingers between hers.  “Like a team? Team… Civarsh.”

Cash chuckled at the name, “What does that mean?”

Ivar shrugged, “Nothing.  It’s the mixture of our names.  All teams have a name. Justice League; Avengers; The Migos; Wu-Tang Clan...”  

“But, not Civarsh?” Cash laughed, “I can’t even say it.  Your team naming skills suck.  If I’m going to be part of a team it needs to have a name to let people know that we are a force to be reckoned with…’

Ivar listened intently to Cash talk but somewhere in the back of his mind, he realized that he was sitting on the floor in only his underwear with a girl he hardly knew and he was completely comfortable.  He had never before felt like this in his life, not even when he was with Freydis.  Even, when they had sex, he hadn’t been this comfortable.  

In fact, he remembered that he would usually put his pants on, immediately after she was done.  After they had been together for a little while, and they both knew that something was wrong with him sexually, he stopped removing his pants, altogether.  She didn't need him to take them off to get what she needed. But this?  This wasn't so bad.  It was actually kind of nice, if he was being honest.

“Would that make you feel some kind of way?”  Cash raised her brows in question, hoping that she hadn’t offended him. Her heart was in the right place, but it was a weird request.  Her mother always said that the road to hell was paved with good intentions.  

Ivar looked confused.  

He had been listening to her but he must have zoned out for a minute. "Sorry?” 

“Would it make it weird if I crawled, too?”  She asked again, a little less confident than the first time.  It sounded so much better in her head. Those bitches Jessica and Jasmine had convinced her it was a good idea.  She should have known better to listen to them.  “I mean, I figure the reason we’ve been sitting by the door in our wet underwear for the past 10 minutes is that you don’t want to crawl in front of me.  So, I figure if you have to crawl, and I crawl with you, then…” She looked at his face and could not get a read on his expression.  

There wasn’t a name for the emotion that Ivar was feeling.  All he knew was the back of his eyes burned with the hot sting of tears and his top lip began to sweat.  His dry throated swallow made his Adam’s apple bob before he licked his lips and tried to say something intelligent.

“Never mind,” she said lowering her eyes, “it was a stupid idea. I’m sorry if I offended you. It wasn’t my intention.  I was just trying…”

“You would that for me?” He covered his mouth with his hands and furrowed his brows as he tried to figure her out.  “You would be willing to crawl on the floor with me?”

“You shouldn’t have to look up to anyone,” she gave him a hopeful look and prayed that she didn’t just fuck up this whole trust thing they were building.

It was hard to scoot in wet underwear, but Ivar made the best of it without his boxer briefs sliding down his butt.  He managed to close the space between him and Cash, with one hand on the back of her neck and the other in her wet hair, he pulled her face toward his. 

Last night, their kissing had been nice and exploratory.  This kiss today?  He wasn’t quite sure what came over him, but it was heavy and needy.  If he didn’t get himself together, he was going to end up laying her back on that floor and let whatever was going to happen, happen.  

Tags:  @oddsnendsfanfics​  @a-mess-of-fandoms​​ @waiting4inspiration @simsadventures​ @chipster-21​  @tgrrose​  @alicedopey​   @thelastemzy​​  @naaladareia​ @alexa4040​ @absolutelynotanidiot​ @pokeasleepingsmaug​ @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme​ @skadithegoddess​  @dina-m16​  @tiyetiye​ @synnersaint​ @lostinthoughtsandfeelings@moonlightsspirit​ @geekandbooknerd​​ @dreamlesswonder86​ @inforapound @youbloodymadgenius​ @cruelfvckingsummer​ @mummybear @flowers-in-your-hayr​ @honestsycrets @thatendymion @jzr201

[doodles-arts]

Head-cannon: The turtles with a bender s/o

Word count: 6048

Description: This is a headcanon on how the turtles act with a s/o that bends an element, like water, earth, air and fire. Everything changed when the fire nation attacked. There is also a bonus! each of the head canons have a short imagine

pairings: donatellox reader, leonardo x reader, michaelangelo x reader, raphael x reader

Raphael:

-My bad boy here would be smitten over you the second he sees you.

-oh shit? Who’s that’s badass?? You b!!!

-he loves how easy water bending is for you. He also loves the way that when he gets hurt you're the first person at his side, healing him with your special ability

-Your So! Strong. Controlling water and bending takes patience, peace and power. And he’s certain that you have all three

-he’s so beta for you O m g 

-he loves your hair!!! The way is moves when you bend. Almost like water

-Your calves and biceps are rock hard. He so vexed over them

-”watch your tongue big red!” You say that whenever he gets sassy with you

-Big red? SUch a turn of for him

-Your both so flirty all the time

-You sneak kisses and touch as often as possible

-“oh please, choke me,'' he says this to Leo- testing his older brother- you pipe in before leo can say anything “I volunteer.” everyone is shook

-raph listens to no one, but you~

-Your so strong, and he can tell because one day a flood breaks through the lair and you tried to hold it all off. There was SO much water, you were grunting in pain as you held it all off to help Donnie as he fixes a pipe that burst

~

You held the water from pouring through the broken pipe. The water kept building, getting heavier and heavier. You felt when the water was about to burst, ready to hold it off even before it did. Now? You weren’t so sure.

Raph was amazed at how you could hold the water so perfectly it was still; unmoving. “Amazing”, he mumbled. You were holding the water for a good hour, and it was straining on you. After another 20 minutes and you fall to your knees, almost yelling in pain. 

”Donnie…. What's taking so long?”

 Everyone froze as you fell to your knees. The cloud of water above you rippling. Your arms were trembling as you held up all of the water in the air. The boys checked in on you now and again after you fell. Ralph didn't move from beside you, keeping you company as an excuse to fret over you. Another 10 minutes and your arms were shaking, your back cracking under pressure. You were yelling in anguish, the weight too heavy for you. Two hands pushed your back forward, ”I’ve got you, tiger, take a break”. 

You smiled, biting your lip at his gruff voice. ”oh, I think I like that idea!” you said seductively, Raph found this funny and smirked. Though when you let go of all the weight from your back and put them on to his hands, he knew you had to be superhuman. You weighed as much as his weights, good God! He couldn't imagine what type of weight you were holding on your arms. His palms pushed against the part of your back below your shoulders with his hands uncomfortably upside down.

After 30 minutes you could feel Raphael hands trembling, the uncomfortable position as he held the weight of the water was new to him, he couldn't hold on to it well. You felt really bad for him having to help you, but thankfully Donnie finally finished fixing the pipe. You tried to stand but felt your legs falter, ”let me help you up” his warm breath on your neck was driving you crazy! 

You sent the water away slowly out of the lair, with Raphael’s help, and into the sewers. ”jeez tiger, you deserve more credit!” he said placing a hand on your waist and rubbed it as you held the water back from flowing through the pipes until Donnie could fix it permanently. ”I think I might be able to forgive you,” you mumbled with a smirk. 

~

-You got him to appreciate you in a few more way after that

-he helped you ”stretch” out the knots out...

Leonardo: 

-This calm leader is amazed at your strength

-fire bending takes a clear mind with zero emotion

-and gosh, are you emotionless!

-at first he finds it mysterious, than annoying because you never really paid him any attention, but after getting to know you through Donatello he sorta likes it.

-finding your straightforward and cool headed personality attractive

-Your fire bending is almost as hot as you are

- ha ha, get it?

- you always light things on fire whenever Leo touches you

-The perfect heater. Mickey cuddles you all the time during winter

-leo h a t e s it

-Your hands get super hot and red like an electric stove whoever you get mad 

-and your cheeks, when your flustered!!

-Leo finds out that he sucks at flirting with you

-You always light the candles when you’re both meditating

-Oh did I mention, you love tea? And meditating, reading? 

-Your both a match made in heaven

-he tries to flirt and drop hints 

-Your oblivious, like not a clue

-he finally tells you he likes you and your like, “okay cool, I like you too leo”

- at first he like, what? 

-You still don't get though

-You still didn’t know that he liked LIKED you. 

-When he further explains it, your shook

~

He sat quietly, waiting for your response after he had just blurted it out in the kitchen to you. Your eyes focused on your book. You slowly lifted your head with a raised eyebrow, looking back down at your book as you responded. “Okay Leo, I like you too.” His eyes widened and grinned like a maniac! 

That was until he noticed your eyes were glued back to your book nonchalantly. He might not have ever had a girlfriend before but he knew that no confession ever ended that way. He knew not to expect, you, of all people, to jump up and kiss him. But he knew that just because you tried to be emotionless didn’t mean you didn’t have any. He knew that your emotions were way to closely connected to your bending. 

Clearing his throat to catch your attention once more, it didn’t work. He reached over and gently put a hand on the top of your book. Covering the page you were reading from. “Hey, I’m not sure you heard me, I like you. Like more than a friend, I like the way you smirk when you're smiling and when your nose wrinkles up when your angry”, he got up and walked around the table, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment. “I really do like you, I’ve been wanting to ask, would you be my girlfriend?” Your eyes were wide and the spring in your stomach started to stretch. You tried to keep the fire in check, but this was all new and Leo leaning forward wasn’t making it any easier. 

“Yes,” you wanted to be his girlfriend, but you just couldn’t meet his eyes. 

Leo wasn’t going to let this moment pass, you never got this flustered, this was his only chance. He leaned in closer to your face and planted a soft kiss on your cheek, but last minute something stung his lips. “YeAuOo!” You had been so surprised that your cheeks had gotten as hot as a stove. “MAh Lipzz” he cried out trying to stop the burning stinging. 

Oh no!

~

-He forgives you though, because the way you heat up your lips when you kiss him is addicting. 

-he loves when you kiss his neck, it feels like a sin. 

-perfect cuddle buddy in the winter. Mikey lost his privilege

Michaelangelo: 

-earth bending takes confidence and lots of emotion, unlike fire

-Your strong, like stronger than normal humans and other benders

-mikey loves your shoulders

-You actually picked him up once

-You like to pretend their are earthquakes to prank him

-he’s s h o o k every time

-he likes when you train, your Amazing

-You make earth roller coasters for him

-for a moment, NY times really believed it to be aliens, all the earth craters and roads that were paved as you bent a track

-once he convinced you to make crop circles in central park

-The news Lost its mind

-Your both a dangerous mix

-like if you mix a mentos and soda in a closed bottle and opened it unexpectedly

-You guys are the couple that don’t understand that PDA can be alil uncomfortable to watch

-This is because of Mikey though, he’s the clingy type

-sometimes your too harsh on others and super cold, but Mikey melts your heart

-Your honestly like a rabid dog, and mikey is your trainer

-he loves how all of your ex’s want you back, but you don’t even bat an eye towards them

-”none of them know how to make me laugh”, “he didn’t know how to calm me down”, “none of them knew how to please me, Like you~”

-oh?? He takes the hint

-he’s loud, and you like it

-a lot of the times your orange underwear is ripped by the end of the day…

-You and Raph are best friends 

-Mikey is low key jealous

-one day, your training and he loses it

-You snap at him, than cuddle him because he cries. You coo him back to his happy and goofy self

-You’re never this soft with anyone

-He loves your special attention though

~

Your sparring against Raph, trash talking each other in the  new dojo, an extra space Mikey begged donatello to clear for you, so you could practice your earth bending. Usually your both very loud, yelling as Raph blocks and you bend. The new dojo is big and round with all solid earth underneath. It’s in a hole in the ground outside of the lair, but there’s a pipes that connects the two spaces and Mikey can hear everything from his spot on the couch playing video games. At first he didn’t mind you hanging with Raph, he didn’t care if you beat his butt in a few spars, but then you started leaving him behind to spar with the red cladded giant. And as much as he was a very chill dude, it hurts to feel like second best and forgotten like some toy. He tried to contain his anger and focus on his game. But your voice was intoxicating, your war cries raised goosebumps on his scaly skin. How could he not feel the anger boil and top over as he watched you rough house with Raph on your way back into the lair and laugh. You laughed. Something you rarely did without him. It’s why no one really liked you, it's why he loved your smile so much. Cause you only laughed at his jokes. You only ever smiled at him, it made your smile so much more special. He slammed his controller off and stomped off into his room, angirly flopping on his bed before pulling out the Dsi you got him for his birthday and playing. 

Raph gave you the okay to run after him, he never got angry, never got jealous. Oh god, did you mess up again? You always had ex’s leave because you were overconfident and way too sure of yourself. You never understood the whole, not being buddy buddy with other guys. You were stuck up. And as much as you knew this, none of your ex’s were really any fun, but not Mikey, he was perfect. And you were afraid he’s felt the same way, that he’d want to leave. You tried to shake the feeling, he was allowed to be jealous, at least that’s what you hoped it was.

Knocking gently before opening the door, unsure of how to approach an angry Mikey, afraid you’d screw up like you always did. You never knew how to fix arguments or disagreements with your past lovers, you always made it worse. “Hey winky dink” you whispered as you used his nickname, trying to be as sweet as you could. He angrily turned away from you,his shell facing you as he played on the Dsi. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, you knew he was just reacting, and he was allowed to react. You placed a hand on his shell, “baby if you wanna talk about something, I'm all ears. What’s wrong?” You thought that was nice, though your tone was low and sweet… it sounded a little condescending. He shimmed away from your touch. “No” he grumbled, and you were taken aback. Mikey never acted this way! It was out of character for him. You were never good at being empathetic and this was all new to you.

And he knew he was pushing his luck, but he never felt jealousy quite like this before, not knowing how to control himself, he was riding out his anger. But he didn’t really want you to leave. And you didn’t have the heart to leave either. But you also weren’t going to put up with this shit! “Listen here you overgrown yoshi, i’m trying to share a heart to heart with you because I'm afraid of losing you. If you can’t grow up and talk to me, then why the hell make a scene? You should already know I don’t like your brother you dope!” Though you never really said anything insulting except the yoshi part and name calling, your tone was rough. Tough as rock and Mikey didn’t like confrontation with you. He loved you way too much to be yelled at and was extremely sensitive with you. 

 He whirled around, baby blue eyes wide as saucers. His bottom lip jutted out and started trembling, aw man, your heart started panicking. ‘Here it comes’...

His eyes started to water up, and soon you couldn’t even see his beautiful baby blue eyes under his thick tears. He sobbed, “yoshi? B-BUt he’s FAT. Are you s-saying i’m FAt? Is that w-why you train with R-raph- Cause? Is i-it?” He started mumbling and sobbing nonsense and your chest felt like someone punched their way into your heart and pulled it out. You felt terrible. Like a monster. “No, no, no baby. That’s not it at all.” you cooed as you crawled further on his bed and towards him. Pulling him to your chest and putting his thighs on your lap*. Rocking him slowly as you cood to him how much you loved him and how he was the only one for you. There could be no other in your heart but him. It was only until you started asking him how much he thought you loved him while pulling his face to look at you with his chin. Nuzzling his snout with your nose until he laughed. “There's my laughy-Mikey~” He hid his face in your neck until he felt his cheeks cool down. 

You trailed kisses down the side of his face, “I love you Mikey.” He churred in response. 

“For the record, yoshi has nothing on me.”

~

-He loves the way you victory dance and taunt him when you win mario kart

-Your not even good but he lets you win once in while 

-You give the best b******

*mikey can be very soft when he cries. Soft boi 100%

Donatello

-computers = hot air

-hot air= heat

-turtle + heat = snappy turtle or sweaty turtle

-he didn’t like you at first

-Your really positive… wayyy too optimistic for his realistic expectations

-one day in the summer Mikey makes a prank with water balloons and when he throws at Donatello, almost wetting his very computers, you blow it away before he can damage the electronics

-after that, he learns to respect you

- a few days later Donatello comments on how hot it is and you blow a cold breeze in to his lab

-he doesn’t realize it until he sees his brothers sweating their asses off in the living room and his room is super cool. And his room is usually the hottest because of all the hot software

-Your sleeping on the edge of the couch, head on the armrest with a hand posed towards his room

-he smiles sweetly, realizing how sweet you actually are. Your not extremely optimistic, your kind and empathetic. 

-he works the nerve to invite you to his lab for more cool breezes in exchange to help you with your homework. You agreed.

-as you work, he sees how hard you try, your a fast learner

-he likes watching you work and doze off

-he starts to notice how beautiful you are

-You stare at him Alot

-why?

-Best free air conditioning

-everyone fights over you in the summer, Donnie usually wins

-Your just so good at your bending that it isn’t even tiring to bend cold air around the room

-Your really level headed, but your always happy

-You always make him feel better 

-You’re really tiny

-like is it normal? He loves how those buns look on your head

-The way your baby hairs move cutely around whenever you air bend

-oh shit.

-he’s head over heels now. bam.game over

-he makes you a pinwheel that plays 3D images whenever you air bend wind in to it

-You Love it, you jump into his arms and give him a huge hug 

-he Confucius 

-hugs back, and loves the way your hair smells, wishes he could hug you more

-one day you tell him how much you like his eyes and his mind is blown

-You find this funny

~

You’re packing your things away to go home and as you pass Donatello and bid him goodbye you remember something that had been on your mind lately. You turned around sharply and stood still for a second. If you did it, would he return the thought? Would you overstep a boundary? Well, there was only one way to find out!

Walking back to Donnie’s lab with a huge grin and a pep in your step, walking back into the lab and walking towards his computer chair you took a deep breath feeling the air welcome you and feel your confidence build a little more. “Mikey, no I can’t help-” cutting him off by grabbing the sides of the computer swivel chair and turning him around to face you. You smile and he straightens his glasses, he gulps in confusion when you lean in to his face. Small enough that you don’t really lean down even if he is sitting, he finds that sexy/ adorable. You tilt your head and stared harder, leaning in closer and he leans back into his chair, cheeks on fire. You reached forward and pulled his glasses upwards with a gentle smile, “uhhh-” “-You really do have beautiful eyes!” He pulled back fully in confusion hitting his head on his swivel chair from pulling back so strongly. His glasses fell on his snout and slid down, you giggled before pushing them upwards before leaning to his left cheek and giving his hot cheek and blow of cool air and a quick kiss. 

“See ya donn-” there was a tug on your wrist as your turned around. Feeling giddy you turned back around and face the pretty purple turtle. His mouth opened and closed in a faint attempt to gather himself and say something, he was making a bigger fool of himself, damnit. “I think I can help” you uttered sweetly while lifting his chin and leaning back down. Your lips were soft. God he could get used to this. Your like cold water, cooling and you smelt like pinewood and mint, he liked it very much.

Bonus?????

Splinter

-he never thought you’d accept him, but you weren’t exactly normal either

-living in a swap with no one other than the few like you

-splinter seemed normal

-You lived with other vine benders and water benders in your swap, but the expanding cities called for your people to accept the modern world. 

-The sewers were close to home and were the only spot where you could bend and learn new things like plant bending, without being seen

-You first met him when he was around looking for supplies and food for himself and the boys. 

-once you gained his trust you met the baby turtles and you had fallen in love 

-being an older woman from different world, these baby boys were a step in the right direction; for a family

-You offered to help him raise them

-reluctant at first but soon won over, splinter agreed

-You cooked and worked for the boys while splinter cleaned and tuckered the boys out with ninjutsu

-the first time they called you mom you cried

-You made flower crowns for Raph as a child

-Leo helped you farm, it wasn’t easy in the sewers but you both managed

-Donatello soon helped and you couldn’t have been prouder of your boys. Creating a mechanism of mirrors to help the planting vegetables grows

-You always grew herbs with your bending for splinters tea, he was always grateful

-You taught the boys as much as you can about the outside world, but the truth was, you were still learning as well

-Leo was always curious about your old life in the swamp with your old family

-You loved telling them stories with splinter, one told from your own families

-Your mom look is very frightening

-The boys love you so much, your so kind and caring

-they don’t like to pick favorites, but… mom has never sent us to the hashi, chores are a lot better than the hashi

-You spoil them, you really do

-splinter tells you a l l the time

-they love when you play with them, their so used to seeing you leave for work and coming back very late that they don’t get to play with you much

-You grow older in to your mid 40’s and splinters grows concerned with your work schedule

-it wasn’t until you began coming home and passing out the second you sat down that he pleaded you take a break

-he knew it wasn’t easy to work more than 8 hours and then come home to cook and leave again fro more work

-You refused, the boys needed you to work, they were growing and deserved everything they asked for and needed new clothes and shoes as they grew older and bigger.

-splinter tried to reason with you, and again you refused. Growing tired of his persistence you both argued over it. 

-The boys were very frightened and peeked through the dojo slide doors, and you looked back splinter before you started laughing once you noticed them.

-”oh, please forgive me splinter, it’s just were fighting like an old married couple”

-he joins in and you take his advice to take a vacation once the boys walk in for a family hug

-more time home meant more family time!

-The boys won't let you do anything the first two days 

-”you need water? I've got it!” “you need your slippers? Where are they?” “dinner’s on us!” “I've run you a bath mom!”

-it isn’t until the end of the second day that the boys are arguing and you over hear that you finally understand

-they think you work so much because your tired of them? 

-You barge in and remind them how much you love them, FAMILY HUG

-splinter is very helpful when you have a lot of stress, massages, teas, and bath remedies

-The boys are so annoying as they get older

-they mother hen you SO much, why? Because your older and frail because of all those years working for them

-You have a bad knee and really bad wrists that get stuck and hurt if you do too much

-even though your old you, still tend to an old garden and make Raph secret flower crowns every once and awhile

-You make Donnie tea that sends him sleeping in seconds, splinter is really amazed at how you still pull it off

-Mikey stays up watching the kids cartoon channel with you, you like them because they're cute and heartwarming

-You scrapbook

-The boys love you so much, you cry at EVERY birthday

-Your a cool mom in their teen years

-You worked your butt off to save money and retire. It’s totally worth it

-You love being their for them when their teenage emotions get the better of them

-The night they escape to go topside, you catch them leaving but instead of busting them you distract splinter, splinter is pleased

-splinter is Not pleased once their back

-You don’t tattle tale either!

 ~

“Where are you boys going?” you croaked in your southern accent, they froze. Knowing they had woke you up. They froze, fearing the worst from you and then the hashi, you and dad made a sick tag team. “If your going to go, what are you waiting for? Make sure to stay quiet, New York never sleeps.” They were ecstatic, each lifting you around and hugging, you shushed them as they rough housed and cheered about their amazing mother. 

“Shushhhhh, Leave, leave! I’ll take care of your father. Now have fun and stay safe. Look after each other.” They smiled at each other before dashing out of the lair. You smile and walk over to the splinters room, finding him reading the new book you got him. Reaching forward to grab his book, your plan on distracting him already in tow. You knew his soft spots like the back of your hand

**

They get caught on their way back into the lair, because they were being loud as usual and Splinter heard them. No longer having his undivided attention and distraction. You rolled your eyes at your boys, could they have been any more obvious? He lined them up while you fiddled with the metal ring on your hand, feeling very bad for your boys. They looked at you awaiting for your help, gosh, you really did spoil them! You couldn’t help them now!

“Where were you? Did your mother assist you to go topside?” you gasped dramatically before grabbing one of his ears and twisting it painfully. The boys snickered as splinter apologized profusely and turned back to the boy, that got them quiet fast. “Next time think before you accuse me of something so foolish.” he rubbed his ear, “yes, yes. To the hashi I suppose if you won’t confess,” your heart clenched painfully when you saw them in there but stink eyed them to ensure your name wouldn’t be named once they spilled.

~

“Honey, listen-” “NO, ma! I’m tired of being the bad guy, tired of dad treating us like kids when we’ve saved the world. Tired of being treated like the one with no control. I’m tired of Leo being the favorite…” you listened, listened to him rant. Because it was important he trusted you and knew you respected all of his emotions. Important that he learned that all of his emotions were valid.

 You patted the spot on the bed next to you and held your hot headed son against your own head. “I love you Raphael, I have no favorites, because if I lost any of you my heart would never heal. Leo is not our favorite, and if you don’t believe me, who makes you your flower crowns? Who’s the one who makes you the extra pancakes just because you ask? Me. I love you all, I try my best to show it, my son, my beautiful son. You have so much to give the human world don’t let your anger cloud that.” You pet his head as he cried and made him the flower crown you always made him on times like these. 

~

“No, no, you have training tomorrow morning sweetie, off to bed!” He gave you his famous puppy pout. And you caved, knowing splinter would never let you live this down, your son always won you over. It was those baby blue eyes. “30 more minutes and its off to bed!” He grinned so big your own jaw hurt. “Okay mommy! Love you!” you chuckled, your youngest still called you mommy and you LOVed it, it reminded you of when they were little. You went to the bathroom, and stepped in to your bed, as quietly as possible…

“Michelangelo gave you the pout again didn’t he?” You could have face palmed right there, he chuckled and turned around and hugged you, “it is alright my lotus, you will overcome it soon enough.” You sighed playfully. After awhile you woke up to a raspy throat, Your husband asked why you were leaving, replying you asked if he’d like some water as well. He asked for a cup and walking out of your room you saw you youngest son passed out on the couch with the remote in hand. You smiled, grabbing a comforter to drape over him and tucking him in and put the remote away. Leaning down to kiss his forehead, “I love you too, Michelangelo”

~

“Donatello baby, it's awfully late, are you working on something important?” “extremely mother!” There was nothing better than being called mother in your late years. Note the sarcasm. It made you feel older, but you knew it was out of respect. “Hmmm, is it saving the world from terror, important?” He paused before peeking his head out of his work to look at you, “about 5 notches less important, mother.” You nodded slowly, “baby, you have training tomorrow, 30 more minutes.” He grinned and your heart melted, “thanks mother!”

You warmed a ketted and crushed up some special herbs, fixing them in and when the tea was ready you added mint and lavender with plenty of honey after adding your special herbs, with a peanut butter sandwich. A new trick you came up with and splinter was well aware of it. Watching by, could you trick the boy this time? “Baby, Are you hungry? I made you a sandwich” he gladly took it with a big smile and a very sweet ‘thank you’. “Do you want something to drink, baby?” you asked coyly, he took another bite and nodded gratefully, Leaning over to splinter as you both walked back over to the kitchen, “got ‘em!” Bringing the already made cup over to your little genius. 

“There was no milk, but I made me and your father some tea, so I thought this would be better anyway~”, he took a swing and thanked you again. You walked over to the seat where Splinter waited for you on the couch with your own tea cup of peppermint tea. Reaching out your hand for a high-five your husband gave you one. “You never cease to amaze me, my darling.” Your son was asleep in the next 10 minutes, your husband helped him to bed and off to dream land and he went with a kiss to his forehead as you tucked him in.

~

He groaned once more, he couldn’t focus on his meditation. “Alright, even i’m tense. What’s wrong, my son?” He jumped in his seat on the dojo floor. Usually it was splinter who helped him out of this funk, but mamma bear had come to the rescue today. He sighed one more time as helped you sit on the mat because of your bad knees and laid his head on your lap. You massaged his temples, and almost instantly he started feeling better. “Recently I've been thinking I'm not fit to be leader. This is supposed to be easy, but it isn’t. It’s supposed to be, like, second nature but it’s not.” You thought for a moment on how to reply while stroking your son’s head and shoulder. 

“I’m not like you father, wisdom has never come easy to me. But I do have experience, leadership isn’t natural it’s a choice. You have to fail to learn as a leader because your not following and your not learning. Your teaching and I'm aware it can be quite a hassle at times, but your father chose you for a reason. Perhaps you don’t believe it, but he did. And if there's one thing that man is good at, it’s at choosing the right choices.” He smiled at his mother's words meant to tease is father, at the end. “Your right-” “damn straight I am” you mumbled and chuckled. He leaned up and gave you a kiss on the cheek before returning to his meditation in perfect peace now. His mind remembering what you had said, he trusted you and took great care with your words. You leaned over and grabbed an arm while placing a kiss on his cheek, “you’ve got this, blue”, having full fate in your eldest son. 

~

With your birthday coming up the boys in your home were awfully quiet at times. For a whole week there were no fights, zero trips to the hashi, and no boys staying up late. Thankfully you had clean the lair up before your birthday week and you had the whole week to relax. And that’s exactly what you did. Too old to be running after the boys, your first birthday in retirement. “This is livin~”. On your birthday your husband awoke you with tickling kisses and whispers, and when you arrived to the kitchen and found breakfast all prepared. You smiled and gushed at your boys. “You boys shouldn’t have!” They all let you pick the best of everything, and instead of taking it you gave mikey the first spritz of the whipped cream, Rapheal the sweetest and biggest strawberry by bending it to grow, donatello the best pancake and leo the warm syrup first. You also poured the tea for your husband, “but mom-”, “no buts! My favorite part of breakfast is taking care of my family!” “sweet!” You giggled at michaelangelo. 

The rest of the day, the boys paid you extra attention, getting you anything you wanted and your husband ran you a special bath. Life was bliss at the moment and you were enjoying every bit of it. As you walked to the kitchen for a cup of water the boys screamed ‘surprise!’ “boys! You should know better than to scare an old lady like that!” They all laughed as they brought out the cake with two candles with a 6 and a 0. They sang you happy birthday and you were gushing the whole time. You asked donnie o take a family photo, he timed the camera and you said “whiskeyyy!” It was beautiful and the boys insisted you took one with splinter, and in the middle of the picture you swiped a finger of frosting on his nose. You laughed as the boys froze and kissed the frosting off with a smile, another flash made you laugh. The cake and family time was a blast! You all played Monopoly and you laughed the whole way through it. At the end of the night the boys prepared to leave for patrol and before they routinely they all gave you a hug.

“Happy birthday mom, thank you for always working hard for us, you always put us first”

“Happy birthday ma! Thank you for always putting up with us, no one could have asked for a better mother”

“Happy birthday mother, thank you for always making time for us and getting everything we’ve ever wanted"

“Happy birthday mommy! Your the coolest and one day i’m gonna spoil you as much as you’ve spoiled us!”

You were in tears at the end of their hugs, “get back here boys!” you said with tears in your eyes, Holding all four of them for a group hug. “I have the bet sons!”

After they left your husband played some of your favorite slow southern songs and danced with you. “Thank you darling, for all you have done for this family. If it were possible, I'm sure me and the boys would find a way of giving you the world. You have done more than be a mother to the boys, you have become their hero, lotus” he whispered into your ear as you danced and you danced as you sobbed happily. It felt so good to be validated by your family after all the years you worked so hard for. This was officially the best birthday ever. 

Remember to validate your mothers!!

[doll-on-a-music-box]

On a Long Journey Even a Straw Weighs Heavy

...On a short one too.

Three weeks ago I took a two day trip to Los Angeles. For me, that equals a change of underwear, a toothbrush, and maybe a second shirt. Maybe. I like to travel light and was enjoying the thought of not needing to pack even a bag for such a quickie. I am easily amused. And a little bit stupid.

Had I not noticed my recent switch to a larger handbag to accommodate all those tchotchkes I now bring with me when I step away from the house? Because there’s a beautiful simplicity in Zero Waste, but it has a tare weight and can get fucking bulky, damn it.

If you’re reading this and asking, “why,” it’s because I saw that photo of the turtle living with a plastic straw up its nose and was horrified enough to to decide that I can do without a few first world conveniences to keep my share of schlock out of landfills and animals.

And yes, I’m aware of the un-eco friendliness of flying. C’est la vie. Jeremy Irons in A Long Day’s Journey into Night had no plans on coming to me, so suck it. Muhammad must go to the mountain.

As suspected, my essentials fit in my purse -

2 pairs of underwear

Toothbrush & jar of toothpaste

Deodorant

Second shirt and pants

Injection bag containing shots, ice pack, & travel sharps container

Pill case with 40 pills

Wallet & keys

Phone with earbuds & charger

Journal. This beast is a bit heavy, but I never go anywhere without it. One should always have something sensational to read on the plane, right, Mr. Wilde?

Then I looked at my M*A*S*H* unit of eco-friendly supplies, glanced at my bag, and cursed like a motherfucker. The first of two problems was now obvious - my days of traveling light are over. Zero waste items take up space, and I use a lot of ‘em. I swapped out the purse for my backpack.

I haven’t traveled since I began trying to decrease the amount of garbage I create, so I visited Zero Waste blogs with travel tips and can now confidently tell you that either the writers don’t leave home for very long or I am totally doing this wrong. It’s fine - I throw away very little these days and am happy about that, but someday, I’m going to want to leave the house again, so the cities, countries, or even just restaurants I visit are going to have to meet me halfway and start making some major policy changes.

FOOD

Over the course of 48 hours, I’m fortunate enough to be in the habit of eating regularly and planned to continue the tradition in LA., so I grabbed my fabric napkins, bamboo cutlery, drinking glass with glass straw, and coffee mug. As instructed by the travel tip blogs, I packed food for the flight because saying No to the plane’s peanuts and meal means you say no to the plastic they come with. Great idea. Out comes my much loved tiffin container, and I happily fill it with charcuterie, cheese, and crackers, because I like to be fancy and shit.

On top of my own food, I grab the two gifts for the two different households where I’d be staying each night - mason jars filled with candy made at a local shop. Yes, I could have bought gifts in LA, but I like this shop’s chocolates, and I could control the packaging at home by composting the bag so all my recipients would be left with was a glass jar and metal lid.

The backpack was now full of my essentials and the additions -

Napkins

Cutlery

mason jar with glass straw

Coffee mug

2 mason jars with candy

3 tiered tiffin container full of snacks. The assumption that this would get lighter was not only wrong, it was the second problem, and a far greater issue than my desire to travel light.

BATHROOM

Let’s just get this out of the way - in an effort to make up for all the tree deaths I’ve personally been responsible for due to my love of ultra soft, mega rolls of toilet paper - and to avoid the plastic wrap that comes around them - I tried bamboo toilet paper and never felt so dirty in my fucking life. Even if I liked it, and holy shit I did not like it, I’d have to carry a roll with me whenever I left the house. My solution is a portable bidet, and I take it with me everywhere. How I lived so long without one, I will never fucking know. For those of you wincing, you can fuck the fuck right off. Unless you are reading this from the shower where you’ve just washed your ass, mine is assuredly cleaner than yours. You could eat off of it.

The bidet is neither big nor heavy but does require some accoutrements, and they come with weight and bulk. I now needed to put them in a second fucking bag.

Bidet

A small container of Dr. Bronner’s castile Soap

A container for water in case the toilet is not right next to a sink

15 small towels

I generally bring two towels with me for nether region-drying purposes when I run errands, but a two day trip needs more than that. I have Multiple Sclerosis and pee all the goddamned fucking time, so I grabbed enough to be safe. Et j'en passe. My water pik was staring at me.

My teeth have some crowns and dental work so not all of them can be flossed without plastic threaders to get the floss through. As a result, the pik is not just for the purpose of avoiding the plastic, but it’s really the best way for me to clean my teeth. The thought of leaving it home crossed my mind, but having food trapped in my teeth for two days would make me almost as ornery than all those times I quit smoking, and when I say ornery, I mean I’m a downright Cunt when I’m uncomfortable. As long as I’m already using a second fucking bag, may as well bring it.

A second fucking bag for a two day fucking trip -

Water Pik

A pouch with my Diva Cup and Thinx underwear because you never fucking know, #wherethefuckareyou,menopause?

As for my hair, I have a bonafide jewfro and never carry product or brushes with me because they don’t. fucking. help.

Two bags. Not none.

Am I doing things that differently than the bloggers with their pretty, pretty pictures of shopping baskets filled with mason jars for buying food in bulk? What, Dear Reader, is in your luggage? I’m not judging, I genuinely want to know. I can stop what I’m doing when I travel, but that feels like the wrong decision.

I looked at all my shit, recognized that it wasn’t going to decrease in size except by two mason jars, and thought of that turtle. At least the weight wouldn’t get heavier, n'est-ce pas? Right? The bigger problem became obvious not long after arriving at the airport, but I’ll have to deal with that on a day when I’m not lamenting then end of the World Cup for another 47 months.

[gaypasta]

do you want fries with that?

Chapter 3/ ? Read on Ao3 Previous Chapter First Chapter

Richie’s house was neater than he expected. He was aware that Richie’s parents weren’t home a lot, so with Richie being the only head of house for the majority of the time, he had expected the place to be a mess. Instead of tripping over piles of shoes and discarded coats at the front entrance, he stepped cautiously onto a clean rug and past a pair of converse neatly lined beside each other.  They were white and black respectively. The carpet was slightly damp in some places and smelt of a sterile hospital softly masked by a mix of citrus fruits and … Stan sniffed again, he had definitely smelt this smell before. He stood there for a moment, wracking his brain before moving off again picturing how strange it would look if Richie had walked in to see him sniffing his hallway. He was carrying a large mixing bowl his arms, the bike ride over had been tedious as the bowl was too big to fit into his backpack alone, nevermind with everything else he had to bring with him. The clinking of the glass tupperware Stan had in his back clinked as Stan walked. The sound must’ve alerted Richie of his presence, as his goggle-eyed head peered through what Stan assumed was the entrance to the kitchen. Stan had knocked, but perhaps knocking by belting his elbow into the door because he couldn’t free a hand while carrying all this stuff was either too quiet for Richie to hear, or was mistaken for the house settling. To be fair, Stan had called Richie to let him know he was on his way and Richie told him to let himself in while Richie took a nap and would wake up to a gorgeous three tiered cake. Stan told him to get fucked.

“Roll up ladies and gentleman, next up into the kitchen is a Mister Stanley Uris!” Richie mock-presented. He cupped his hands around his mouth and made a whisper-shout to imitate a booming crowd. “Standing at five foot ten, weighing a whopping ninety-nine pounds, eyes as steely blue and dreamy as Harrison Ford our hero is up against the one, the only…” Richie paused for suspense. Stan was not suspenseful. “Richie Tozier’s kitchen!”

“Meh, that one needs work. Hold the door open for me so I can set this down. It’s heavier than it looks.” Stan took steps towards the double glass doors, Richie opened the door from inside and held it open, giving an exaggerated bow and curtsy.

“Anything for you, oh master Chef.” His tone then fell back to normal. “Put the bag wherever. I would say sorry about the mess, but I’m not really.”

Stan stepped past Richie, keeping an eye on his hands as he passed through the threshold. The last time Richie held a door open for him he had smacked Stan’s ass. Hard. Stan dropped the mop bucket he was carrying in surprise and he made Richie clean it up. He winced thinking about it, he had eggs in this bag.

Thankfully Richie’s hands didn’t wander any farther than to close the door behind them and Stan was left without sexual assault. For now. For now? Stan was worried what kind of torture Richie would later impose upon him, he was in Richie’s domain after all. Stan was doing him a favour, though. If Richie got too overbearing or he got to eat too much cake batter that it went to his head, Stan could just stop making the cake which he was so gracious enough to bake for Richie. And by that he means help Richie bake. Yes, it will be a joint effort.

Richie’s kitchen was fairly messy. There were cups and plates piled up into the sink - some looked as though they had been sitting there for a while. Is that porridge or mashed potatoes? A few cupboard doors lay open, threatening to clip the side of Stan’s head, he closed them as he walked past them. A few tell-tale jars of Richie’s breakfasts and late night lunches sat beside a chopping board covered in crumbs. Stan noted that  unlike the front entrance, a dirty pair of black slip-ons lay haphazardly beside the table along with a crinkled pair of shorts. Did Richie really just come home and strip while making a sandwich? I guess when you basically live alone there’s no one to witness your indecency. Stan set the large mixing bowl on a clutter-free section of the small kitchen and began unloading the Tupperware filled with preciously measured ingredients from his backpack. He had considered not pre-measuring the ingredient, but figured it would be more straightforward if he did. Imagining Richie with a bag of icing sugar could have gave Stan nightmares, so that may have been a contributing factor.

Richie stalked over and stood, as usual, slightly too close to Stan. Maybe Stan had a bigger area of personal space than what Richie was used to, or maybe Richie did it to annoy him. Either way, Stan shifted slightly to be a more socially acceptable distance from his friend. His nose had caught a quick whiff of that smell from the hallway again. It smelt too strong to be  body-spray, but not as perfumed as cologne.

“So, what are you making my wonderful Mommy for her birthday?” Richie peered into the boxes, as if a tub of flour would be a clue.

“ We are making Victoria sponge cake, since when I rang to ask you what she liked, you didn’t answer.”

“I did answer!”

“Roast beef Sunday dinner isn’t a flavour combination I could work into a cake.”

“That’s quittin’ talk, Uris. Slap some gravy into a muffin and there you have it. Happy Birthday, Maggie!”

Stan rolled his eyes. “Here, put this in the freezer, it’s too soft.” Stan handed Richie over a stick of butter, cut into the weight that they would need.

“I can think of better ways to get it up than that, Frosty. But whatever floats your goats I guess.” Richie grabbed the butter and threw it into the freezer, mimicking playing basketball.

“Boats, you mean. Why would goats float?”

“Well, look what happened to the Titanic. Boats aren’t too great either.”

Stan rolled his eyes and pre-heated the oven. He shifted his bag off his shoulders and moved it to Richie’s kitchen table. He began adding ingredients into the bowl, while Richie’s eyes lazily followed his hands. Somehow, Richie already had flour on his gaudy Hawaiian shirt. The sight of the floury patch pressured Stan into get his apron from his bag, Richie’s eyes stalked him, like he was calculating Stan’s every move.

“I’m putting on my apron.” Stan felt the need to justify his actions.

“And where’s mine?”

Stan raised an eyebrow. “I know for a fact you have plenty of aprons. I’ve given you three new ones this month alone. I doubt you’ve lost them.”

Richie looked at him as if he had just said the most ridiculous thing. “If I didn’t lose them, how come I can’t find them?”

“Have you cleaned your room at all in the past month?”

“I call it organized chaos. Sorry we can’t all be OCD, Mr.Perfect.”

Stan rolled his eyes as he raised the neck of the apron over his head, using his left hand to keep his yarmulke in place.

“Crack four eggs into an empty bowl and don’t get any shells in.” Stan commanded.

Richie did just that, after searching around in a dusty cupboard for a bowl. “Now what Captain?”

Stan tied the back of his apron in a perfected bow. “Beat the eggs, I doubt you have a whisk, just use a fork.”

“I don’t normally use a fork to beat eggs, if you know what I mean.”

Stan stared blankly.

“You know, like eggs .”

“You’re thinking of the hymen. You need to whisk harder, you’re not getting enough air in.”

Richie looked at him through the side of his glasses, a strange look that made Stan feel slightly intrusive.

“How would you know?”

“I’ve been making this cake since I was nine. The eggs should be a pale yellow and fro-”

“About the hymen. Didn’t take you as a womanizer, Stanny boy. But who can resist those curly locks, am I right ladies?” Richie made a high five motion to the empty space to his right.

“We sit together in Biology. You copied my homework on female anatomy last week because you were too busy cramming for Chem to spend five minutes labelling a diagram.”

Richie stopped staring and stared at the wall opposite in deep thought, hopefully not thinking that deeply about female anatomy. Richie barked a laugh. “Oh yeah. Who can forget the vulva?!”

Stan grimaced. “Please stop talking.”

Stan added the now perfectly beat eggs into the large bowl, instructing Richie to mix it gently until it’s just mixed. Not too much or the cake will go tough because the gluten will have been worked to much. He started to explain to Richie the importance of properly mixing the cake in great detail as he got the now less-melted butter from the freezer.

Richie pretended to listen, nodding his head while watching Stan lean into the freezer. Stan smiled, he was happy that Richie was listening one of his ‘boring science’ speeches. He didn’t think it was very boring, Stan actually thought it was really interesting the difference that simply adding in an ingredient slightly too quick or too warm could make.

As soon as Stan instructed Richie to mix, it became apparent that Richie was overestimating how much force was required, as almost instantly he was greeted with a huge blob of batter on his flowery shirt. He promptly dropped the fork and stepped back, afraid that the bowl might decide to spit at him again.

“Stan… this is my favourite shirt…” Richie frowned, almost comically.

“Is it ruined?”

“Not if i wash it before it dries.” He pulled at the shirt, assessing it for any further damage.

“Damn.”

Richie shot him the finger before swiftly jogging out the door, pulling the shirt off before he even exited the kitchen. Stan’s eyes lingered where Richie’s bare shoulders were. It reminded him of when they used to go swimming in the quarry. He remembers holding those freckled shoulders, water droplets cascading from Richie’s hair into the crevices between Stan’s fingers, while attempting to drown Richie for pulling his underwear down while he was swimming. Richie had soft shoulders.

Stan began cleaning up globs of batter with a roll of kitchen roll which was sitting beside the sink. He wished he could disinfect the area, it involved raw eggs. Not that Richie would really care. He wound up the dirty sheet into a ball and placed it inside the egg carton, which Richie had put the egg shells back into. Stan didn’t want raw egg sitting out for long, too much risk of cross-contamination. He reached under the sink to where he assumed the bin would be, and opened the cupboard door.

The kitchen rang out with the sound of maybe a dozen or two glass bottles clanging against the harsh linoleum floor. Stan initially panicked, thinking that a bottle had smashed, but he mistook the sound of  a bottle breaking into pieces and the shards cascading to the floor with the small landslide of bottles. Stan dropped to his knees to begin picking them up, before stopping as his eyes skimmed the labels. They were mostly beer. All the same brand. Two bottles of what was once whiskey had fell too. Stan lowered himself to peer into the cupboard and sure enough, there sat at least 5 large empty bottles of whiskey, which had been pushed to the back. Underneath several bottles which hadn’t spilled out, Stan could make out some dishcloths and washing up liquid. Stan frowned. Why the hell was there so much alcohol in this cupboard? He picked up a stray whiskey bottle and began to read it. Fifty-five percentage. From what Stan remembers from Bill’s last birthday party (they were all wasted after four beers) that’s hell of a lot. Were these Richie’s? Surely if Richie drank this much, Stan would know by know. Right? He’d have hangovers in school or when they were in work. Besides, Richie could barely hold back a beer, nevermind all this.

“Hey good lookin’ what you got c-” Richie, who had barged through the door, had fell silent for a split second upon his eyes meeting the mess. Stan met his eyes and barely had time to blink before Richie shot over and began stuffing the bottles back in. He looked angry, as he threw the beer bottles back into the cupboard with too much force. Stan thought he heard one break, actually break this time. Stan gently placed the bottle he had been examining back in, before Richie had a chance to grab it from him. Richie glared angrily at the bottle Stan had placed back, as though they had an unwritten term of agreement and the bottle had just broke it. Stan’s heart didn’t know if it should beat too fast, or slow down, so it settled for both and Stan felt like his heart was gonna fall out of his chest.

Richie closed the cupboard and just stared at it for a moment, Stan noticed Richie was sitting barely an inch away from the cracked eggs and batter-covered towel. If Richie chose to sit down from sitting on his knees, he’d surely sit on it. Stan gingerly leaned over, pushing the carton away from Richie’s possible line of movement. This had meant leaning over Richie, and he could feel his messy black hair tickling his neck. He retreated slightly, but not completely, he could feel his own curls fall against Richie’s hair as he moved. His eyes darted to Richie’s as soon as he knew he could’ve seen the boys face. Stan knew what had happened. He wasn’t one to make assumptions, but he read the situation enough to know he shouldn’t ask. As he moved further back, perhaps only a foot away from the other boy’s face he could feel a force make him pause. He wouldn’t have paused of his own accord, he’s too close. This is his personal space and Richie is sitting in it, looking almost frightened in anger. Like when you finally stand up for yourself against your parent, knowing you’ll get in trouble, but you’re too angry to stop yourself. Stan had never seen these emotions painted on his face, he admits, regrettably, that he never really thought of Richie as someone who could feel such a complex tide of emotions. There was an unspoken silence between them for several moments. Neither of them moving, Stan continued to watch Richie like a hawk, looking for any sign that he could move away, or speak.

Richie had made several noises over the course of a minute or two, which sounded like the start of a sentence which he hadn’t thought to finish. Richie rubbed his eyes in frustration, displacing his glasses. Stan moved back, and let out a breath that he had been holding, in fear that even something small like breathing too loudly would interrupt what Richie was trying to say.

“Do I really need to go into it?” Richie asked to the ceiling, he moved to sit against the cupboard that had betrayed him.

Stan looked at the cupboard, then to Richie. “I mean, kinda. A brewery's worth of alcohol just came out from underneath your kitchen sink.”

Richie sighed, to the ceiling again. “Can’t you just put two and two together then we can leave this conversation.”

“If your sink has a drinking problem you should probably address it.”

Richie let out a breath of air, the ghosts of laughter. Stan smirked as Richie shot him a look, followed by a thumbs up. “Good one, Stan the man.”

The kitchen fell back into silence. Stan moved to lean his back against the cupboard beside Richie. Their two postures were so different, they almost looked comical. Stan’s head rested on his knees, his brown loafers pointing straight forward while Richie sagged beside him, his legs apart and dirty socks pointing to the Gods. He looked like a wax figure who’d been left in the sun slightly too long.

“My mom’s not home much.” Stan nodded, he knew this, but he could tell this was the start of a conversation . “Neither is Dad either, not that I give a shit.” Richie seethed his words, Stan didn’t know much about his family life, but he had always read between the lines of Richie avoiding any mention of family that it wasn’t great. “Mom just...drinks a lot. All the time, Stan. She’s not always drunk or anything, well she’s gotten worse lately but… fuck, she always had a drink in her hand, but she could put herself to bed and remember how to lock the doors and she’d be up in time to get me up for school and go to work. It worked, I mean she wasn’t a great mother, when she was far gone she’d …” Richie picked at the skin at the side of his nails, watching his own fingers with intent. “She’d not be great. When I was in second grade I drew our family portrait with her holding a bottle of beer instead of my hand, for fuck’s sake.”

Stan was watching Richie’s face carefully. Taking in this moment as if it would be a moment which would grant him life or death. He stored every word Richie said into his head. Richie started to jiggle his leg, Stan knew he was craving a cigarette. Stan didn’t like it when Richie smoked around him, so Richie usually didn’t.

“I’m sorry, this is stupid. I sound like such a faggot crying about my Mommy issues.” Richie wiped at his eyes again, Stan didn’t notice any wetness, and suspected Richie was trying to wipe away moisture as it came.

“So you wanting to fuck Eddie’s Mom is all just a big roundabout Oedipus complex?” Stan was so used to Richie providing comedic commentary, Richie being down isn’t something he’s ever considered happening. He figured the situation needed lightening up though, before one of them takes the smashed bottle from the cupboards and slits their wrists with it.

Richie let out a shallow but honest laugh. “Probably, but me and your Mom? Pure fiery unhinged passion.”

Stan knocked shoulders with him, and Richie retorted as well. He reached into his jeans and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, taking one into his mouth directly from the packet. He gave Stan a look to ask if it was alright, and Stan nodded. Richie needed this right now. He can figure out how to get the smell of smoke out of his shirt later. Richie hopped up and lit his cigarette on the gas-fired hob.

“I know I don’t need to say it, but this is between us, ok?”

Stan nodded. “You didn’t need to say it, Richie.”

Richie sucked on the cigarette, letting the smoke flow out of his words as he spoke. “It wouldn’t be fair not telling you after telling Bill. I’d feel guilty for feeling like I had to ask Bill not to speak if I didn’t have to ask you.”

Stan blinked, partly because Richie accidentally blew smoke into his eye. “You… you told Bill?” A part of him feels upset that he wasn’t the only one Richie had told, he felt cheated that Richie would disclose such a personal secret to their other friend. Stan felt bad, he shouldn’t feel special, he shouldn’t feel as though he and only he should be privy to Richie’s personal tragic backstory. Yet, he did.

Richie took a long drag, letting the smoke sit in his lungs a few moments longer than normal before he blew out, watching the smoke disappear into the air. “Yeah, It’s Big Bill y’know. You feel bad keeping anything for him.” Stan nodded, he understood, Bill had a way about him, that by keeping a secret from him, no matter how little involvement is on Bill’s behalf, you’re still riddled with guilt for not telling him. “I didn’t get much of a choice. In case you couldn’t tell - I don’t exactly boast about this shit. He was staying over for the first time since we were probably…” Richie trailed off and tapped his finger against his thigh. “About nine? Eight or nine. It was two years ago, after your thirteenth birthday party, I told Bill he could stay at mine because I live closer and it was getting dark. And right as we were about to fall asleep, Mom falls into my room, thinking it was hers.” He let out a sad laugh. “Bill was scared shitless because Mom was yelling at us to get out of her room, it took a while, but I got her to bed. It killed me because afterwards Bill would barely look at me. I don’t know if he was embarrassed, or guilty or pitied me or whatever. But it fucking hurt.” Richie tapped off the ash onto the floor. “I liked Bill, a lot, I was head over heels infatuated with him, and the first night we’d have a sleepover in ages without having Georgie creep in at midnight, I had all these moments planned out in my head. We’d kiss, maybe we’d confess our feelings, maybe I’d give him a blowjob. Then turn of a coin, he wouldn't look at me for a week.”

Stan sat in shock at what he was hearing. Richie liked Bill? Stan was replaying every interaction he watched Bill and Richie have over the past few years. He felt like he’d been hit with a concussion. What the hell was going on? Did Bill know? Were they secretly dating? Are they secretly dating?

Richie stubbed out the butt of his cigarette on the floor, leaving a faint black mark. “It’s okay though, he knows. He’s cool with it. It was a while ago.”

Stan shot him a look, Stan had no idea what kind of look it was, but apparently Richie did, he laughed and patted his shoulder. “Don’t worry Stanny boy. I like my dick uncut, so you don’t have to worry.”

Stan elbowed him in the stomach, making Richie cough. “Don’t be such a dick.” Richie laughed as he rubbed where Stan’s elbow had been. “Wait, you’re gay? The man who talks about fucking all the chicks and their mothers, is a homosexual?” Stan wasn’t shocked, it was Richie Tozier they were talking about - who knows what curveball that boy is gonna throw next.

“Don’t worry, there’s enough of the Tozier Train to go around. Now stopping at both male and female stations, buy your ticket early though - the waiting list is almost as long as my dick!”

Stan rolled his eyes so hard he felt his optic nerve burn. “I’m not bringing up the urinal again.”

Stan got off the dirty floor and held a hand out to Richie. “Let’s finish this cake before any more secrets get exposed.”

Richie smirked and jumped up, looking brighter in the eyes. “Hold onto your yahtzee, it’s gonna be intense.”

Stan hit Richie with a wooden spoon. “It’s a yarmulke, you dick.”

It took thirty-five more minutes, and by the time they were done curfew had long been in place, but they had finished it. It was a work of art. Perfectly golden and spongy, with silky cream and some of Mike’s mother’s homemade jam she had given out to all of the group. It was sweet, the jam gave it just the right amount of bitter to compliment the sweet. Not that the boys knew, they couldn’t have any. Richie was overjoyed, jumping up and down like a child in victory, “I’m a better cook than Bill!” Stan decided not to point out that it was his recipe and the only thing Richie did was mix the ingredients - and lick the spoon, to Stan’s horror.

Stan placed the cake delicately in a decorative box, so it wouldn’t take in any weird tastes and smells that are more than likely making home in Richie’s fridge. Richie smiled at Stan when all is done, and all is left to do is give it to his Mom when she gets home from work the next day.

Richie wrapped his arm around Stan’s shoulder, and Stan lets him. “We did good. But I am fucking starving.”

“I’m not making you food, Richie.”

Richie threw his hands up in the air. “Then what kind of wife are you?!”

Stan rolled his eyes and began to pack his things into his bag, ready to head home. He had work in the morning and it was already - Stan checked his watch - 21:04.  Fuck. Stan picked up the pace, not even bothering to put the lids on his Tupperware before placing it in his bag. His Mom’s gonna freak if he’s not home soon, he was meant to be home two hours ago. Richie sashayed over to the table, where Stan was having a small freak-out. He rest his head on his hands and bent over.

“Where you goin’ in such a rush, sweet-pea?” Richie drawled in his Southern Belle voice - Richie had began to recognize it as Stan’s favourite, a more accurate wording would probably be least-hated.

“I have to get home, it’s late. My parents are gonna freak.” Stan suddenly smelt the smoke from Richie’s earlier cigarette on his collar. “Richie, I smell like smoke! What gets out smoke?” He began to lift his shirt, smelling it all over.

“You can borrow some of my clothes, it’s no big deal.” Richie was staring absentmindedly at his exposed stomach, zoning out again more than likely. Stan almost died at the vision of him walking around in one of Richie’s ugly Hawaiian shirts. He pulled his longest curl down to his nose and gave it a sniff, he recalls Beverly complaining that smoke sticks to your hair, especially if it’s thick - and she was right. “Fuck - it’s in my hair too.”

Richie shrugged. “Just stay over, we’ve shared a bed before.”

Stan recalled back to one of their many sleepovers. Stan had got the short straw and Richie had got kicked onto the floor not even an hour after lights out. The smell of smoke attacked his senses again. Stan looked over to see Richie lighting another cigarette.

“Dude what the fuck?!”

Richie gave him an almost cheshire cat-like smile. “Well you just have to stay now, no chance of getting smoke out of your hair.” He blew smoke into Stan’s face and Stan swatted the cigarette out of Richie’s hand.

“You’re a premium-level dick, do you know that?”

Richie grinned as he pulled Stan out of the kitchen, cigarette bouncing softly between his lips. “Yeah I know. But a slumber party, Stan!"

And with that, Stan had laughed a genuine laugh. Not that Richie had said anything particularly funny or got seriously injured in anyway. But he was having fun, genuine boyish fun, clambering up the stairs, fighting each other on who gets to shower first and Richie attempting to give Stan the ugliest pajamas he could find. Stan was having so much fun, he forgot to call his Mother until 22:35. He laughed at his own forgetfulness and hung up the phone after calming his mother, going back to trying to wrestle his yarmulke out of Richie’s hands.

Next Chapter

[babycracker]

28 dates with Unit Bravo - Day 3 prompt from @wayhavenmonthly: Date

Rating: Explicit Pairing: Morgan/Male OC (Tanner Drake) Word Count: 1504 Warnings: You guessed it. Smut. Only briefly this time though. A/N: This one ends kind of abruptly, I realise this. Because originally it was close to 2.5k words and I thought that was kind of pushing it for a prompt? So I edited and cut down to this but because I had more written to begin with I just couldn’t seem to get it to close properly.

--

“You know I don’t want to do this, right?” Morgan mutters from the doorway of Farah’s room, watching her flit about and get ready for some night out she’s organised for the four of them. Plus Lucas. Plus Tanner.

The horror.

“Sure you do!” Farah replies cheerfully, stopping in front of her mirror and fixing her hair before she turns to look at Morgan, the slightest hint of a frown crossing her face when she eyes her friend up and down.

“That’s what you’re wearing?”

“What’s wrong with it?” Morgan fires back defensively, looking down over herself and then back up at Farah.

“You wear it every day.”

“Yeah, and I’m being dragged out for drinks with people I see every damn day, what’s the big deal?”

“I just- nothing. Nothing, it’s nothing.” Farah replies, sounding a little sad about Morgan not putting in the amount of effort that she has been for most of the afternoon.

Morgan honestly doesn’t see the big deal. Adam and Nate have seen her at her worst, and what reason would she have to try to impress them anyway? She’s not keen on Lucas and already sees far more of him than she’d like to, the last thing she wants is to give him a reason to pay attention to her. And Tanner, well it’s been pretty well established by this point that Tanner prefers her naked, so why in the hell would she dress up for him?

Thankfully, Farah drops her reservations about Morgan’s outfit as quickly as she’d picked them up, and she gives Morgan a wide grin as she steps out of her room and closes the door behind her.

“Is there a reason for this?” Morgan makes sure to weigh her words down with as much annoyance as she can muster, hoping to give Farah the hint that she would literally rather poke forks into her eyes than go out with this particular group of people.

“Maybe.”

Maybe. It's a suspicious enough answer without the gleeful tone hidden behind the word and the side eye Farah gives her as she says it. Morgan sighs, her steps falling a little heavier on the floor as dread takes her from stomping begrudgingly to dragging her feet as though she's going to be able to somehow anchor herself to the floor to avoid going anywhere.

They round the corner to the door of the warehouse where her eyes land on Tanner. Just Tanner. No Lucas, no Adam, no Nate and Morgan takes a moment to realise that Farah's no longer beside her.

"What the hell?" She hisses, spinning around to face the young vampire, who's already slowly backing away from them, grinning so widely that Morgan wonders how it's not causing her physical pain.

"Have fun you two!" She calls but before Morgan can object, Tanner is standing beside her looking just as clueless as she feels.

"Now hold on a minute-" he begins, but he stops with a frown of confusion when Farah simply lifts a hand and points between the two of them.

"You know how hot you guys look standing next to each other, right? You owe it to all of us to go on a date and give it a shot."

"A what!?" They both exclaim at the same time, and they glare at each other before Morgan takes a step away from him and towards Farah.

"You can't make me go on a date with him." She just about spits the words from her mouth, but the disgust dripping from them does nothing towards wiping the smile from Farah's face.

"Maybe not, but it'd make me real happy."

"I don't do dates, kid." Tanner pipes up from behind Morgan before turning to leave the warehouse, but he makes the mistake of looking back over his shoulder. Mainly to check out Morgan's ass on his way out, but unfortunately he also catches sight of Farah actually pouting at him, eyes wide and hands clasped together in front of her.

"Ugh, fine." He snaps in exasperation, reaching out for Morgan's hand and pulling her towards him, not at all gently.

"No! No, not fine!" She protests even though Farah's already disappeared from view.

"She only needs to see us leave, we can go back to my room for all I care." Tanner murmurs against her ear, leaning in close. Morgan hesitates, it's a tempting thought. But then so is marching back in after Farah and smacking her across the back of the head.

Somehow, fucking Tanner in a cheap hotel room seems the more appealing of the two options, so she smirks at him and nods towards the door.

--

They're already all over each other by the time they make it to his hotel room, his hands shoved up under her shirt and roaming over her back and sides and his tongue in her mouth as he walks her backwards through the room until they reach the bed. Her knees hit the edge of it and she falters and falls down onto the mattress, sitting back up to reach the buttons of his shirt and rip them open as he loosens his tie and then starts on his belt. He swats her hands away when she reaches for the button of his trousers and takes over, nodding down toward her.

"Strip." He instructs simply, and she only pauses for a split second to be outraged by his demanding tone before she decides it’s what she wants to do anyway and lays back, lifting her hips to push her jeans and underwear off. He’s already got his hands on her waist as she lifts her shirt over her head, impatiently pushing her further back onto the bed and kneeing his way onto the mattress with her.

"Eager much?" she gasps as one of his hands slides down her side to her leg, hitching it up and around his hips before she's even really settled herself at the top of the bed.

"For you, sunshine? Always.”

The sigh he lets out when he lifts her other leg up around his hips and pushes himself into her sounds almost relieved.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters, barely giving her a chance to adjust to him before his forehead drops down to rest on her shoulder and he starts moving inside of her. She’d give him shit about his near desperation, if not for the fact that she feels exactly the same way and doing so would give him an opening to make fun of her right back. And she knows that he would.

So she decides not to mention it to, not to question why he can never seem to be able to wait to be inside of her or to at least get close to her, and not question why it’s the same way for her. The sex is good, that’s all. What else could it be?

She lifts her arms, holding onto the edge of the cheap headboard above her as he lifts his head back up enough to kiss her roughly, his stubble scraping against her lips and chin and cheeks and his tongue forcing its way into her mouth, dragging a groan from her. She thinks nothing of it when he sits up and shifts her legs so that her ankles are resting on his shoulders, one hand tightly gripping her hip to pull her back against him and the other roaming all over the front of her body.

At least not until she distinctly hears him murmur the words “beautiful, sunshine” right before his eyes roll back and his thrusts become rougher and more erratic. Even more confusing is the way his words send her over the edge unexpectedly, her hands flying back down to try to get a grip on him while her hips roll involuntarily against his as she comes.

What in the name of fuck?

He follows right after her, his hands absentmindedly running up and down the outsides of her thighs for a few seconds once he starts to come down before he seems to snap out of it and pushes her legs off of him. Whatever affection or admiration or whatever the hell that was disappears as quickly as it had reared its head and he pulls out of her and immediately shifts away from her, moving to the edge of the bed.

Neither of them say anything about it, but it’s an obvious presence in the room for a long while and she can’t tell if he regrets saying it or is just embarrassed to have admitted in the heat of the moment that he thinks that of her. Just like she can’t tell if she hates that he thinks she’s beautiful or if she’s just confused and embarrassed herself to have heard something that perhaps he didn’t mean for her too.

And all at once, as she’s sliding out of his bed and pulling her clothes back on, she remembers why dates are never a good idea.

--

tags (please let me know if you'd like to be added or removed): @admdmrtn @masonsfangs @oxjenayxo @mmerengue @agentsunshine @bravomckenzie @freckles-spangledvampire @mistyeyedbi @agentnolastname @kelseaaa @detectivewiseman

[electricoutdoors]

Urban Bug Out Bag (What You Need to Make it Out of the City)

Urban Bug Out Bag

Bugging out should be a last resort for most people. If you live inside a city, however, you may find yourself wanting to bug out a lot sooner than someone that lives in the suburbs or a more rural area. This is where your bug out bag is going to come into play.

What is an urban bug out bag? An urban bug out bag is a survival kit designed to help you escape a disaster that is affecting a city. The end goal is to get to an area outside of the city that is safe and less populated.

When you’re packing a BOB to get out of an urban area, you should not only be thinking about what to pack, but you also need to try not to attract attention to yourself as best as you can. [wc_toggle title=“Table of Contents” padding=“” border_width=“” class=“” layout=“box”]

Urban Bug Out Bag

Urban Bug Out Bag Gear Selection

Backpack

How to Pack Your BOB

Water

Food

Shelter

First Aid Kit

Clothing

Light

Hygiene

Weapons

Protective Gear

Fire Starting

Cordage

Navigation

Electronics

Signaling Devices

Money

Identification

How Much Should an Urban BOB Weigh

Conclusion

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Urban Bug Out Bag Gear Selection

The majority of the world lives in cities. If you live in one of these densely populated areas, you need a bug out bag even more than those that live in rural areas. According to UN Water, the urban population is estimated to grow from 3.9 billion people today to 6.3 billion in 2050.

Urban areas are more likely to feel the effects of the following disasters:

Civil unrest like riots

Terror attacks

Cyber-warfare

Food shortages

Water shortages

Pandemics

Economic collapse

That means an urban bug out bag is way more likely to get used than the one I have sitting in my basement. Even if you don’t take action and start building a BOB right now, at least learn the concepts that will make it more effective in case you decide to build one later.

Start building your bug out bag by putting together the most important items first. The essential items for a bug out bag are the backpack, water, food, shelter, and first aid kit.

Backpack

For an urban bug out bag, you’re going to want to choose a backpack that doesn’t draw a lot of attention. I like backpacks that look like they would fit in the gym, or look like someone would carry them to work. This means that you’re probably not going to be choosing any kind of super tactical pack or something huge that would fine on the trail but really strange on the subway.

You should also choose dark, subdued colors like black, brown, purple and green. Don’t choose anything that overly flashy because that’s just going to draw attention to you which is exactly the opposite of what we want.

The Under Armor Hustle 4.0 would be great for an urban bug out bag. It’s certainly big enough to get everything you need inside and has plenty of interior pouches to organize everything.

How to Pack Your BOB

To keep your pack as stable as possible, load the heaviest gear next to your back and centered in the middle of the pack like the drawing above shows. Pack your lightest equipment in the bottom of your backpack with the medium weight loaded at the top and outer parts of the bag.

Fill in all empty space and use any internal tie-downs to secure your items in place. This prevents the load from shifting in your pack and it will allow you to fit more items into it.

Women and shorter men often find that carrying heavier weight slightly lower in the pack is more comfortable. Heavy items should still be high in the pack, but feel free to adjust your load for your comfort. This is just a general guide, not a hard and fast requirement.

Water

We all understand how important water is for survival.

I’d suggest having at least two 1 liter containers of water in your BOB. This will allow you to get some distance between you and whatever event made you bug out before you need to stop to get more water.

You can find water in cities in these areas when you’re bugging out:

Rainwater (pooled up in the area or collected)

Shops and restaurants (bottled water and other drinks)

Bathrooms (sinks and toilets)

Mechanical rooms (water heaters)

Fountains and water features

Rivers, ponds, and lakes

Any buildings that still have running water

You’re also going to need at least one way to filter the water you collect. A LifeStraw will do well and not take up a lot of space in your bag.

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You can read about how to choose the best survival water filter here.

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Food

You can go for a long time without food, but it’s so much better to not have to.

If you pack dehydrated foods or food that needs to be cooked or rehydrated, you’re going to have to stop to cook it and use water that you may not have. Pack convenient food that you can eat while you’re walking (energy bars, survival bars, etc.).

If you want to pack things like dehydrated backpacking food, you should at least throw some Power Bars in your bag to keep you going initially when you’re trying to put space between you and the disaster that made you bug out in the first place.

I typically throw an in my survival kits and call it good. They taste decent, don’t weigh a lot and don’t need any kind of preparation before you eat them.

Shelter

Shelter is a critical part of any bug out bag. It includes your clothes and anything you bring on top of that to protect you from the elements.

A military-style poncho will usually work pretty well, but a camo poncho may draw too much attention in the city. A dark color tarp or dark color rain gear are good options.

You could even pack large trash bags to use as a makeshift poncho in case you need it.

I don’t suggest adding the bulk and weight of a tent or sleeping bag unless you’re in a really cold area. You should be able to get by with a good coat and a cover of some kind to keep you dry.

First Aid Kit

My preferred loadout for when I want a good all-around first aid kit and the ability to treat trauma is the Adventure Medical .5 Kit, the Adventure Medical Trauma Pak, and the SWAT-T Tourniquet.

Clothing

You should add a few extra pairs of socks so you can change them out when your feet get wet or overly sweaty. This keeps your feet healthy and minimizes the chance that you’re going to end up with potentially very painful sores on your feet. This can slow you down or even completely stop your progress when bugging out.

Other than socks, you may want to put some underwear or a couple of additional warm layers of clothing if you expect it to be cold.

It’s always a good idea to have comfortable shoes when you’re bugging out. I like to keep comfortable boots on the outside of my bug out bag so I always know that I’ll have decent footwear if I have to get out of the house right away.

Light

I like to have a headlamp in one of the outside pockets on my bug out bag. This keeps it in a convenient location and lets you light your way as you’re walking without having to hold a flashlight.

Hygiene

Staying clean is important. Even though you should hopefully only have to bug out for a few days until you’re someplace safe, it’s still a good idea to pack baby wipes, a roll of toilet paper and a toothbrush and toothpaste.

After a day of walking and carrying a pack, it feels good to be able to clean up a little.

Weapons

Getting out of the city early is key if you want to avoid irrational, scared people. Getting ready to bug out once there are mobs in the streets is too late and going to make it much more likely that you’ll be forced to defend yourself.

If you have the option to own a firearm, I highly suggest that you get a pistol that you can take with you when bugging out.

In a city, it may be a good idea to conceal your weapon under a coat or shirt. Tensions are already going to be high and you don’t want to be stopped by a crowd or the police when they see that you have a pistol.

A rifle is another option, but it’s probably going to attract more attention than it’s worth. You could always carry a pistol in a holster and keep a rifle in your bug out bag until you’re out of the city. This is probably your best bet if you can do it.

Protective Gear

Certain types of disasters that could affect urban areas make it necessary to protect your hands, eyes, and lungs.

Dust, ashes and airborne particles are all very likely in many natural and man-made disasters. Earthquakes can cause buildings to collapse and fires can run rampant in some areas or be started by rioters. You can always try to wrap a dust towel or shemagh around your face but an N95 mask is going to be a lot better.

Consider adding these to your urban bug out bag:

N95 rated dust mask

Mechanix gloves

Clear glasses or goggles

Fire Starting

Being able to start a fire isn’t all that important when you’re bugging out, but it doesn’t mean you should completely dismiss the chance that you may want to get a fire going for some reason.

Throw a Bic lighter or two in a pocket in your bug out bag and you should be good to go.

Cordage

Survival Cord has all the strength of regular 550 cord, but it also has a flammable fire starter core that makes getting a fire going really easy if you have to. You don’t need to go with Survival Cord, but I’d at least have 25-50’ of 550 cord in your bag.

You can use 550 cord for all kinds of things from making shelters to repairing your backpack. It’s definitely worth taking some with you.

Knife

A quality knife of some kind should be in any survival kit. I like to go with either a strong fixed blade knife or a Leatherman of some kind.

Don’t underestimate the usefulness of having a knife. You don’t ever realize how much you need one until you forget to take one with you.

Navigation

You should have laminated maps of your area with points of interest marked on it. Make note of places to get water, food, find shelter, etc.

I also like to have a GPS in my bug out bag. A GPS with good maps can be a live saver and make travel a lot easier.

Electronics

You can add as many electronics to your bug out bag as you want, just remember that you’re going to need to power those things in order to use them. The good thing is bugging out should only take a few days at most so your batteries probably won’t die over that time.

Just pack a couple of extra batteries for your electronics devices and you should be good.

Signaling Devices

I like signal mirrors because they can be seen from long distances and you can use them as a normal mirror if you need one.

Money

In a bug out situation, it’s a good bet that society probably has not completely collapsed. This means that your money will still have value and you can potentially use it to buy items that you need along the way.

Bills in small denominations make the most sense so you don’t have to overpay for an otherwise inexpensive item.

Identification

When something horrible happens in an urban area, there’s a chance that checkpoints may be set up by the police or military. If they’re checking IDs it would better for you if you had one, regardless of if you choose to show it to them or not.

You may have to show an ID if you want to use any available emergency services provided by the state or federal government.

I would suggest a state or government-issued picture ID. Anything other than those may not be recognized by whoever is asking for an ID.

How Much Should an Urban BOB Weigh

Like any other bug out bag, an urban BOB should aim for a bag that weighs around 25 lbs. When you start getting heavier than 25 lbs. it can be difficult to keep traveling quickly.

Conclusion

Most people live in urban areas and the number of people living in cities is growing every day. These population centers are the perfect target for terror attacks and more susceptible to manmade disasters like financial crises, civil unrest, and major accidents. Natural disasters also cause the most damage when they strike urban areas than when they hit a rural community.

Due to the number of people that are affected by a disaster, things can go from pretty good to complete chaos almost immediately. That’s where an urban bug out bag comes in.

A good urban BOB can help get you safely from inside the city to an urban area that’s potentially unaffected by the disaster. If you live inside of a highly-populated area, I hope you consider putting one together. An even better option would be to move from the city before a disaster ever strikes, but I know that’s not possible for everyone.

Urban Bug Out Bag (What You Need to Make it Out of the City) is courtesy of: Ready Lifestyle Prepping Blog

Urban Bug Out Bag (What You Need to Make it Out of the City) published first on https://readylifesytle.tumblr.com