#I own one fork one spoon one knife one plate and

[lovingrocksnflowers]

The last few days have been an emotional Rollercoaster

#I stole some plastic forks from work today because i had given up hope #Mind you #My fork is also made of plastic #But the durable kind #From a camping set #I own one fork one spoon one knife one plate and #TWO cups #Living the dream

[luveline]

What would happen if Roan went through a phase of calling Eddie by his name instead of dad because she hears reader and Wayne calling him it?

(This was loosely inspired by this TikTok https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGJqukwNU/)

thank you for your request! eddie and roan —roan starts calling eddie by his first name and he doesn't know how to feel. fem!reader, 1.5k

"Eddie? You want horseradish?" Wayne asks, wiping his hands in a rag. 

Your eyes widen as Roan leaps up into your lap. You wrap your arms around her and almost get your teeth knocked out as she makes herself comfortable, one of her high ponytails tickling your cheek. Your laughter shakes you both. 

"Yeah, please. Ro, horseradish?" Eddie asks, standing behind the chair next to yours, hand out to receive the jar of horseradish. 

He takes the spoon. Roan settles at a sideways angle, giving you an ample view of her wrinkled nose. "No thanks, that stuff is stinky." 

"You can't have tenderloin without horseradish, sweetheart," Wayne says, putting your plate in front of you. Fragrant steam wafts your way. "Now come on, sit in your own seat." 

Roan sighs and turns to you morosely. "They always do this." 

"They're tearing us apart," you say agreeably, fondly, rubbing her arm before lifting her from your lap and into the seat right beside you. 

"They don't do anything. Horseradish smells a little strong, but that doesn't mean it isn't really, really yummy," Eddie says, sitting in the seat to your left. 

It's dark outside, later than you intended to eat. Wayne and Eddie went out looking for ground beef to make meatballs and came back with beef tenderloin instead, which takes way longer to cook. It's been a nice evening while you were waiting, filled with VHS kids movies, conversation, and a secret bowl of hard pretzels. 

"You said those pickled onions were yummy, too," Roan says, clearly disbelieving as Wayne puts her plate down in front of her. 

"They're an acquired taste," Eddie says. 

"A what?" Roan asks. 

"They're not for everybody," Wayne explains. "Do you need help cutting your dinner?" 

"It's okay," Roan says, picking up her fork eagerly. The tines look longer, more dangerous in her small hand, but you've learned not to worry. 

"Come on, sweetheart, I'll cut it up for you," Eddie says, rolling up his sleeves. 

You pick up your drink as Wayne offers it with a thank you, eyes closing in momentary bliss. Wayne makes the best sweet tea, and he doesn't skimp on the ice.

"No thank you, Eddie," Roan says, stabbing a piece of tenderloin. The fork scratches across the plate. Unbothered, she brings the beef to her mouth. 

You almost choke on your drink. 

"Excuse me?" Eddie asks. 

You laugh. Wayne sits down for the first time in the last hour and tucks in his chair, shaking his head in defeat as he grabs for the horseradish and begins spooning it onto his plate. 

"I said no thanks," Roan repeats around a nibble of beef. 

"I heard that part. What did you call me?"

"What, Eddie?" Roan asks. A little smile has her lips tilting upward, a fleck of beef on her chin. It's evidence that she knows what she's done. 

You lean over to wipe her chin. "Oh no." 

"No thank you dad," Eddie says emphatically. "Dad, daddy, hell, I'll accept papa." 

"Everybody else calls you Eddie," Roan says, shrugging little shoulders, her hair bouncing either side of her face. 

"I'm not everybody else's dad," Eddie says, slipping between your chair and Roan's. He sounds strange —not upset but shocked, an unusual colour on him. He eases the knife and fork out of her hands and begins slicing up her food into smaller bites. "I'm your dad."

"Okie dokie, Eddie." 

You can see Eddie sticking his tongue in his cheek while he stands there. He isn't mad; he rarely gets angry over things like this, and even less with Roan. Doesn't mean he likes what's happening, though. 

The evening continues like that. Roan can tell Eddie doesn't like being called by his name and it eggs her on. By the end of the night she's smirking every time she speaks to him, Wayne's clearly amused, and you're not sure how to feel. 

You have to use the bathroom, catching Eddie on the way back with a kind hand on his wrist. 

"Hey, handsome," you say, looking over the soft slopes of his cheeks, his puppy dog browns, his brows where they've furrowed. You stroke the pulsing vein bisecting his forehead in concern. "You cool?" 

"Why is she calling me Eddie?" he asks, shaking his head gently.

"'Cos she could tell you didn't like it. Want me to ask her to cut it out?"

Eddie nudges you. He's dressed nice for a day at home, a slightly too tight t-shirt bragging the lines of his chest and stretched at the curves of his biceps. You tug on one mindlessly. 

"No. Maybe I'll start calling her daughter, see if that works. Or tell her she can't call me dad, reverse psychology." 

"Probably shouldn't." 

"No, I shouldn't." He covers your hand at his sleeve. "Thanks for worrying about me, but it's fine." His face inches closer to yours. "It's kind of funny. I guess I just got so used to being called dad I didn't realise I'd miss it this fast." 

"She'll forget it by tomorrow," you assure him, closing your eyes quick as he presses a good kiss to the corner of your mouth. More than a year down the line and still his kisses make your heart skip. 

"She better." 

Eddie steals another kiss before giving your hand a finger-tingling squeeze and ditching you for the bathroom. 

You return to the living room faster than Roan must anticipate, catching her crouched by the doorway, eavesdropping. You raise your eyebrows at her.

"Whatcha looking for, gorgeous?" 

Roan looks as though she might pretend otherwise, but eventually admits, "I heard what dad said." 

"Which part?" 

"That he misses being called dad. Am I in trouble?" 

"Do you feel like you're in trouble?" you ask, bending at the waist to meet her eyes.

"No, but," —she touches her tummy— "I feel bad." 

You hold your arms out for a hug. Roan grabs your waist as much as she can with her shorter arms, head tilted to the side as you murmur in her ear, "It was only a joke, babe. Right? You were just being funny. Daddy doesn't mind." 

"Are you sure?" 

"You're so lovely," you praise, easing her head back, your hand encapsulating her cheek and ear. Her hair and skin are incredibly soft beneath your palm. "You have a super big heart, just like daddy. It's no biggie, okay? Ask him when he comes back if you want to. I know he'll tell you you're not in trouble." 

You rub the apple of her cheek in a tight circle as you stand. Roan nods against your hand, her back straightening as the bathroom door closes and Eddie's footsteps approach. He beams when he discovers you both together.

"Everything okay?" he asks, wiping his hands in his shirt. 

You encourage Roan toward him. "Tell dad." 

"Tell me what?" he asks. 

Roan puts her hand out toward him. You make you way to the kitchen as Eddie takes it. 

Wayne's smoking a cigarette by the open back door, smoke furling lazily from between his fingers and out into the backyard. 

You turn your attention to Eddie pulling Roan up onto his hip, poking at her sweetheart chin. "Babe?" he asks her. 

"You're good with her," Wayne says, flicking Ash haphazard into the breeze. "I don't think I've ever told you that. You can see how much she trusts you." 

Internally, you glow like the heart of star, joy like an intense and sparkling heat. Externally, you stay cool. Wayne is a chill man. You endeavour to be totally chill. 

"Thank you," you say, crossing your arms across your stomach. "I have a really good teacher." 

Wayne brings his cigarette to his lips. "You do," he says, taking a drag through his smile. He looks past you to where Eddie's standing, his arm holding Roan like a seatbelt to his chest. 

"Sorry if I hurt your feelings," Roan says quietly, looking down at his shoulder.

Eddie nudges her face with his, forcing her to look up. Her hesitance melts away at the loving smile on his face, more so when he says, "You didn't hurt my feelings, superstar. Don't get me wrong, I don't want you to call me Eddie 'cos I'm your dad. That's nice for me. It feels kind of like getting a hug. It makes me really proud 'cos it's you, but I was just being dramatic. You'll get it when you're older, all the grown up junk." 

It's charming to hear his attempt at explaining sentimentality. 

"Plus," Eddie whispers, nose to nose with her, "it was a little funny." 

Roan presents her face for kissing. Eddie plants a big one on either cheek. 

"I love you," he says.

"I love you too, dad." Roan fidgets. "What about if I can call you Eddie on the weekends?" 

"I'll have to think about it."

#eddie and roan #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson scenario #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie munson x reader #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things 4

[indouloureux]

ALSO STEDDIE ANGST IDEA: the reader is always super supportive of the boys endeavors, she goes to all the corroded coffin shows and steve’s basketball games whatever, but the one time she has something important, they accidentally sleep through it @mysticmunson

elora elora my beloved. this is for u i love u 🤍

— poly relationship, however they have their own bedrooms for this one! for the sake of the story, anyway. fem!reader

the boys' ears perk up at the sound of your bedroom door opening. steve turns away from the stove, eddie stops chewing and lets his spoon fall onto the cereal bowl and beneath the milk that he's too distracted to frown about it. they hear your heavy footsteps, which quite sounds like feet dragging through the floor and more like stomping.

when they see you emerge, it's nothing like they expected.

while your hair is combed and your clothes flattened, your eyes resemble the long hours of weeping; from the puffy eyes, the pinkish scleras, and the loud, long sniffing. steve's excited smile falls, eddie's shoulder slumps. it's sometimes amusing how they mirror each other's expressions.

"hey," steve turns the stove off and drops the spatula on the pan, a hand reaching out towards you with his lips into an upcoming pucker. but you dodge his hand, swerving, maybe even flinching with a stoic look. his heart swells.

eddie tries next. he moves away from the kitchen island, a hand hovering at your back to place itself there but you swerve away to take the decanter off the coffee maker to pour yourself a cup.

his hand falls disappointedly down his side, his lips twitching downward, looking at steve sadly and miserably.

you ignore them both, the octave sound of hot coffee falling onto the porcelain mug filling the silence that coalesces with the tv in the back and the muffled yelling of children outside of steve's house. out the corner of your eyes, you see steve swallow thickly before he takes a plate from the rack and tilts the pan until the eggs fall onto the middle, whereas eddie hesitantly goes back to eating his cereal.

when you place it back, steve sees you debate, whether you go back up with your coffee only, or sit down with a chair between you and eddie. he makes the decision for you, wanting to know what's wrong — he slides you a plate full of scrambled eggs and toast.

you stare at it for a bit, before you finally decided to sit down and look down at your food than at steve, though you speak your gratitude through a small 'thank you,'

they decide to settle in silence, both of them eating breakfast as you slowly sink into your corner, trying your best to eat your food faster so you could just go back into your room. you only wanted silence for now, anyway. you're still upset. too upset.

but eddie, poor boy can never stand the silence, looks at you and clears his throat. "so, what'd you do yesterday, sweets? don't think stevie and i saw you the entire day."

their cluelessness ignites the vexed incendiary inside your chest. your fingers tighten around your fork, shoving an egg inside your mouth, your eye twitching and your eyebrows furrowing together slowly as you reply,

"it was fine," you say curtly, sharply. both of them taken aback by your laconic reply. eddie senses something wrong, his mind racketing through countless memories, while steve tries to stop the bomb from exploding.

"yeah?" steve spreads the butter on his toast, the rough scraping of knife against the toasted bread. "uh, where'd you go?"

he looks at eddie cautiously, who's eyebrows raise like a shrug. you stab the egg this time. "an event."

"an event?"

at this point, you're about to break the plate. you shrug, taking deep breaths. "yes."

steve wipes his fingers on a towel hanging by a knob, taking a bite of his bread. "what event? why didn't you tell us?"

maybe you could have bent the fork in half if you could. your eyebrows furrow, all of you dissolving into nothing but a vestibule of exasperation.

eddie sees it as clear as day; he knew that what steve said had struck up a mark, so he shoots him an wide-eyed 'what the fuck' kind of warning to him, the soggy cereal stopping on the left side of his cheek.

"wow, gee, i wonder why i didn't tell you," you snort, though despite that, it's absolute irritation in your voice. with a hint of sadness, eddie thinks. "maybe because i told you, like, everyday of the fucking week. maybe even the night before that event."

it clicks to steve, only then, that you actually did tell him. and eddie, who's expression has fell similarly to his when it comes to a realization.

"i was thinking maybe you guys would have remembered because you promised." you continue, barely looking at them in the eyes, like they're embedded between the hills of your egg. "but maybe, maybe you guys didn't remember. so i guess it's my fault that i didn't fucking tell you about it,"

"babe, i—" steve looks forlorn. you don't feel guilty about it at all. maybe a little, even though your voice had been soft yet somehow sharp, because you really are upset. you had every right to be.

eddie reaches out to hold your hand but you flinch and he thinks he could have just sobbed in his seat. "sweetheart, we must have slept in. i- we're sorry."

"no, you're not," you can't help but sniff and blink from something that stings your eyes, pushing the plate of eggs away.

"we are, baby, hey–" steve rounds over the counter so that he could kneel in front of you. eddie, who's got no clue how to deal with this situation, decides to kneel beside him. "baby, come on..."

you look away from them with a small whimper, your bottom lip wobbling. "i just thought, maybe, you guys would have done the same thing. come to this event and be there, y'know? and i just- i just kept waiting and waiting–"

"and we're complete idiots," you feel eddie take your hand. you know it's him because you feel the roughness on his ever-loving fingertips that dotes heat over your trembling hand. "we slept in, (y/n)."

steve nods. "we slept in and we're idiots." he rephrases. he doesn't like the way eddie had said their reason, and pinches his thigh. he winces quietly that you miss. "that's– that's not a good reason. in fact, we shouldn't even be reasoning at all,"

then, it comes as a jagged whisper. it's a blunt knife that pierces deadly through a heart. "i just thought that maybe i was as important as you said i am."

the two boys quiet down and stare defeatedly, both rocking back from their weakened knees.

"you are important,"

"steve—"

"punch me in my goddamn head if i ever made you feel like you're not important."

and eddie, ever the jest, knocks his shoulder against steve's. "in fact, do it now. now baby, he's an idiot. he deserves it."

"you're just as much as an idiot as i am,"

"just stop," you dig the heels of your palms on your eyes, your chest heaving.

none of it is helping; normally, a thing like this was something you were just gonna brush off. but they'd promised, and you expected, and then all you felt was disappointment and utter shame. and now you're mad, because you feel that way and because they'd been the one to make you feel that way.

you're mad because they made you wait for nothing.

eddie's whiskey eyes are sorrowful at his mistake. it's a sight that makes you cry abruptly, looking away from them and hiccuping into your damp palms. steve's hands reach up to tug on your wrists and wipe your fat tears with his thumb, eddie standing up to move behind you and to wrap his arms around your neck to keep you close.

"stopping, baby," steve leans up to kiss your forehead. "stopping. we're stopping, honey, i'm so sorry,"

"it won't happen again," eddie's lips move against the hair on your temple as he spoke, his mouth puckering to leave the faintest kiss ever. steve picks up a tissue somewhere above the counter and wipes your tears. "i promise you, princess,"

"we promise," steve wipes gently under your nose. you let him, clasping weakly onto eddie's forearm around you. "we love you, okay? you're important to us,"

you sniffle, the slightest scrunch on your nose. your proclamation is baulky as you say, "i still don't forgive you,"

"you don't have to," eddie swerves in front of you to face you again, placing his hands on your arms and massaging them. "not right now, at least."

the sigh you admit reassures them, even the small smile that paints your tear-stained face. the two boys come up to kiss each cheek, making you giggle; forgiveness is yet to be built, but you know they're willing to work for it.

#eddie munson x reader #steve harrington x reader #eddie munson x you #steve harrington x you #eddie munson x y/n #steve harrington x y/n #eddie munson angst #steve harrington angst #eddie munson fluff #steve harrington fluff #eddie munson fic #steve harrington fic #eddie munson fanfiction #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #eddie munson

[ghostsbimbo]

TF141 x Disabled!Reader; Cerebral Palsy

a/n: writing this from my own experience. i am mobile & independent w/o aids due to years of physical therapy, but it's getting harder. Please note, this disability is rare. There isn't much representation in media either, it's quite hard to find, there's 2 or 3 actors, a comedian or two. so I kind of want a small thing, y'know?

Task Force 141 [ General Statement ]

Okay, so this disability is rare (200k cases per year in the US - I do not know about other countries). I have the genuine belief that when they first meet you and you tell them that you have the disability, they actually start looking it up right in front of you. Not only out of curiosity, but because they want to help you.

John Price

He knew it was one of those days for you. He could tell just from you sitting up in bed and hearing the wince you had tried so hard to hide from him. He sighed softly, mentally questioning himself before finally deciding to ask it. "Wheelchair and cane day, love?" "Yeah...Wheelchair and cane day." You admitted, sighing softly. He sat up and leaned over, kissing your head before getting out of your shared bed, ready to help get you whatever you needed.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

You two were at home while he was on leave, eating dinner - steak, a favorite of yours - but you were struggling with cutting it with the knife. Growing up physical therapy focused on the use of your dominant hand - especially with writing - so when it came to using your non-dominant hand? it was beyond a struggle to do things. Cutting up foods was one of them. "You want my help, love?" Simon asked, tilting his head. He understood you didn't like asking him for help, he understood you wanted independence when it came to even the simplest things, but he could also tell when you were getting frustrated. You simply nodded, placing the fork and knife down and carefully pushing the plate over to his side for help.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

You tried your best to not be a messy eater. Like, to the point where you were constantly wiping your mouth, taking small bites of food, eating slow. but then there were days you just couldn't put that much brain power into being a conscious eater. It was a 'low spoons day' as you put it. Your body already hurt constantly due to your stiff muscles, which took a lot out of you on rainy days, so why make the effort to not be messy considering your body was already in so much pain. "Babe...You uh, got a little..." Gaz started, before getting a paper towel and carefully wiping the ice cream off your upper lip and the tip of your nose. You just blushed brightly and mumbled out a quick thank you and an apology. He just let out a soft chuckle and smiled at you. "It's alright, love, at leas you're enjoying something today, yeah?"

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish

You were scuffing your feet instead of actually walking walking. A habit that took years of physical therapy to break. You liked not having to think about not having to walk when you were in pain, but not many other people appreciated the noise. It irritated them. And that's how you got where you are now. In your work's break room, shakily texting your boyfriend to come pick you up. A customer had berated you in front of other customers and your boss in the store. He did get kicked out by your manager of course, but due to you being low spoons, that was your breaking point. Johnny was aloud in the break room on these kind of days. It was something your manager understood you might need on certain days. "C'mon love, you already clocked out, right?" You nodded and you guys walked out to his car, hand in hand with him rubbing small soothing circles on the back of your hand.

#rat writes #cod mwii #cod mwiii #cod mw2 #cod mw3 #tf141 x reader #tf141 x disabled!reader #disabled!reader #john price x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #call of duty x reader #call of duty x you #tf141 x you #cod mw2 x reader #cod mw3 x reader

[dandylovesturtles]

uh just a little something because I was thinking of something earlier and idk I like quiet moments of intimacy between people

set in the bad future timeline but like nobody's dying or anything, it's just #autismproblems but also it's the apocalypse

cw in depth discussion of food sensitivities? ig?

~~~

Leo knocks on the lab door before giving his code to the voice lock, just to give Donnie a little warning before he comes in. He's holding a small plate, utensils, and two bowls of stew, which don't smell particularly appetizing, but they have to do what they can with limited rations, these days.

Donnie is hunched over his work table, battleshell off which means he's taken April's suggestion/threat to get a few hours of shell time every day to heart. He's wearing his ragged and dirty hoodie, the one he refuses to part with no matter how many holes it gets, because both the color and fabric are "perfect".

He looks over his shoulder as Leo walks in, then sighs and hunches a little further down. He's tense, now.

"That time, huh?"

"Yep." He sets the bowl down on the desk, along with his spoon. "My suggestion is don't ask what's in it."

"I stopped asking after we lost the greenhouse." Donnie keeps his attention on his work. "Leave it there; I'll eat it when I'm done with this."

"Aww, come on." Leo grabs the extra chair and wheels it over, collapsing into it. "You don't want to eat dinner with your favorite twin?"

Donnie raises his goggles so the look he gives in response is more effective. "Did Mikey send you to babysit me?"

"Whaaat? Pfft. No."

Technically it's not a lie - April sent him.

"Uh-huh," says Donnie like he absolutely doesn't buy that. He's still not reaching for the bowl.

"...Dee," says Leo, his voice going softer. He nods at the bowl. "You gotta eat."

They've all noticed how he's been losing weight - and all of them have lost weight, that's not exclusively a Donnie problem, but Donnie's weight loss has been far more apparent. None of them are getting enough to eat, but Donnie isn't eating enough.

And Leo knows why. The food they're eating now isn't exactly a taste or sensory delight even for him, and he's been known to eat just about any garbage put in front of him. He can only imagine how it is for Donnie.

But he has to eat. He can't just stop.

Donnie mumbles something under his breath, but then he swivels his chair away from the table. He motions to a more clean surface across the room. "Let's at least go over there, if you insist on watching me."

"Let's move over there for our casual family dinner," agrees Leo, and he can't help but grin at the eye roll he gets in response.

They move, and Leo passes the plate and fork and knife off to Donnie. Then he stops staring at his brother for a bit and starts eating his own stew; set a good example. The meat in it is not very good - fatty and chewy, with some gristly bits - but it's protein, and Leo will take what he can get.

When he's almost halfway through his bowl, he looks back and sees Donnie has only managed to suck down some of the broth and not a lot else.

"You can't just eat the broth," he says, and Donnie grimaces.

"I know that. I know this is all we have and that if I want to stay functioning I have to eat it." Donnie hisses an annoyed breath through his teeth. "But if logically knowing things solved the problem you wouldn't be in here babysitting me."

"I'm not babysitting you. Think of me like... your eating hypeman." When Donnie raises an eyebrow at him, he grins and pumps his fist. "Go go Tello go!"

"Annoyed huff, you are the worst," Donnie grouses, but the tension in his shoulders loosens up, just a little. He dips the spoon in and ladles out a smaller piece of the meat, screwing up his face when he looks at it. But he puts it in his mouth.

Just eating that little bit seems like it takes a massive amount of work. Donnie chews for a long time, squeezing his eyes shut and fanning one hand like he's trying to cool himself down. Then he swallows, finally, and it looks like it physically pains him.

But he ate it and didn't cough it back out and that's a win in Leo's book.

He bites back any comments like "That wasn't so bad, was it?" because he knows from the look on Donnie's face it was absolutely terrible. Instead he just asks, "Think you can do a few more?"

"No," he says immediately, and Leo sighs.

"Donnie..."

"I'm trying," Donnie snaps, and Leo quiets. "I didn't ask to be like this. Trust me, I know how inconvenient it is."

And Leo hates this, hates that his brother is talking that way, hates the state of the world is such that he has to struggle just to eat, but he has to choose his responses carefully because Donnie hates to be pitied.

"I know, bro - shit sucks," he says, and puts warmth in his voice to tell Donnie this isn't a dismissal; if he wants to complain the whole way about how much he hates this, Leo will gladly listen. "If you wanna beat up some krang hounds about it later, we can do that."

Donnie actually makes a noise that is dangerously close to a laugh. "And do what, make more stew out of them?"

"This isn't krang hound! I think..."

"You really don't know?"

"I was serious about not asking," says Leo, and Donnie's lips actually twitch up.

He fishes another piece of meat out, sets it on the plate and cuts it up into smaller chunks. Leo knows he feels self-conscious, having to do that. He's hardly the only person in the colony that has texture issues, and Leo knows no one is dumb enough to try to pick a fight with Donatello Hamato over his eating habits, but... some things Donnie feels more comfortable doing only in the presence of family.

If hiding in his lab and chopping all his food up into bite-size chunks is what it takes to get his brother to eat, though, Leo will let him do it.

Donnie takes the small chunks one at a time and swallows them whole, without chewing. His mutant biology makes it easier, and he reacts less visibly nauseous this way.

He gets through two more pieces of meat like that, Leo watching him while he eats his own. He wants to tell Donnie he's proud of him, but then Donnie will definitely feel babied and he'll throw Leo out.

So instead, Leo ladles up one of his veggies (at least, he thinks it's a veggie) and pops it in his mouth.

"Slimy, yet satisfying," he says with a smirk.

"Take your hakuna matatas and shove them up your ass," says Donnie without missing a beat.

Leo doubles over laughing, and when he looks back up Donnie is grinning and over half his bowl is gone.

#rottmnt bad future #rise leonardo #rise donatello #dandy fanfiction

[oneforthemunny]

Always wanted to ask, how does each Eddie's house/apartment look like; where do you envision each of them living?

dom!eddie i picture living in a trailer sorta similar to wayne's. less stuff if that makes sense, since he hasn't lived there as long??? very boy decorated. mismatch, hand-me-down furniture. he tries to make it homey and tapes pictures of you and him on the wall lol. no frame, just packing tape and it's sweet and a little funny. quilts on the bed he got from wayne, posters in his room- maybe the living room. not a throw pillow in sight until you move in lol. probably like one plate, one fork, one spoon, one knife type vibe lol. very boy coded.

janitor!eddie i picture the same vibe as before (i'll call dom!eddie the default) until he moves in with you. i think it would be a small home. two bedrooms (technically three if you count the small 'office' space that you turned into a room). no garage, but he built a covering for you. it's very homey. he built shelves in the living room for all your books (i fuckin' lost the book blurb if anyone has it lol). lots of pictures on the wall, over the mantle. really just a very homey cozy vibe, and i'll leave how that looks up to you :)

older!eddie also has a house. it's not huge by any means, bigger than average. like a one story, three or four bedroom, two and a half bath kinda vibe. he got it after the divorce and he could afford it. he wanted brielle to have her own space and have some extra room for the hopeful future, and he's glad he did. probably very bare minimum as well before you moved in. like a nicer couch- no throw pillows, maybe one throw brielle bought at target, like one of those cheap ones from the $5 section lol. pictures of brielle in frames, but that's the only decor. not even a doormat. two flat ass pillows on the bed, but in nice sheets. a toothbrush holder, hand soap, and no towel on the bathroom. has a music room with his guitar and stuff, garage full of tools to do oil changes and stuff if he needs to. one half broken plastic laundry basket, and candles brielle brings home from bath and body works lol. please tell me you're getting the vibe lol.

mafia!eddie is a 180 entirely. ENTIRELY. mansion. he built it so it's new, but he wanted it to look gothic and ominous as fuck. like very unapproachable. dark exterior, steel gates at the front of the property. he bought land out in the middle of the woods in hawkins, off the beaten path for sure so you wouldn't see the entrance unless you were looking for it type? lots of dark red oriental carpets, red sheets, mahogany wood, chandeliers that are kinda dramatic and dark. all the furniture looks victorian but dark. i think it's mentioned in curiosity killed the cat that he was going for a vibe that was "a mix between dracula and the godfather" lol. large book shelves, candle opera lighting, dark grand stair well, bear skin rug (with the head bc he thought it looked sick). large, tall windows but all the glass is one way glass so it looks even freakier from the outside. very gothic victorian chic.

rockstar!eddie ok so pre-kids- he had a home in malibu, a penthouse in la. owns a couple different properties bc why not. he hired someone to decorate, but really it's like he put weird shit in there lol. like very rockstar- bachelor pad coded. like there's a fifty thousand dollar imported couch... next to light sabers on the wall that he won at a bidding bc they were used in a movie. bedroom is very... interesting lol. def has a waterbed in at least one room. has a bed post with clips for his... activities lol. probably a hook for a sex swing too. then a whole music memorabilia type room. plaques, his achievements, but also things he's collected.

tamed rockstar!eddie with kids- he lets nb decorate mainly but he also adds a few things. he designs the sex dungeon and it does in fact look like a dungeon. dramatic ass lighting, literal chain cuffs on the wall, a bed that with thick posts, mirror on the ceiling, a whole wall of toys. it's so him, like his mind. then he also has a studio in his basement. really, it started bc when he started having kids, he didn't want to leave his house. didn't want to drive into the city to record, so had one put there bc why not? he's got the $$ lol. he also gets the flowers pressed from their three weddings, the baby showers, any really big achievement- he'll get a bouquet made and pressed and preserved. nb always hangs them and decorates with them, and it makes him so proud lol.

bouncer!eddie lives in an apartment. it's very sketch, very cheap. like one bedroom, one bath, tiny ass kitchen and little living room. he literally just lives there. no personal touches beside a tv, a boombox. mattress on the ground, card table and folding chairs, leftover box as a nightstand, towel as a bath mat. he mainly stays at your place so he's not too worried about it, but the first time you come in, you're a little horrified.

cowboy!eddie- i know this is going to sound cliche but if you've ever seen the ranch on netflix lol. that's what i picture. like that wooden, ranch style house. a little older, i think it's been renovated since it was built like forever ago. small screened in porch, wooden dutch doors. a sun room in the back of the house with some house plants. an older couch and recliner, a wooden heater stove in the living room- it was apart of the original design of the house so he kept it, even with the ac/heating unit. patterned quilts on the bed, old school floral sheets that came with the house lol. really, he didn't do much to it besides add a few of his things when he moved in, because it was his grandparent's home before his.

modern!eddie had an apartment close to the park for a very small time. roomed with gareth, and then once he started staying with you, he didn't stay there anymore. probably didn't have a bed, but a futon they put in one of the rooms and had all their gaming stuff in it. he's victim of the striped, blue comforter that's faded as hell. has a rick and morty poster he put on the wall with thumb tacks. tv on the ground with his gaming stuff, wires everywhere. a closet that has shit spilling out of it. very messy lol.

#oneforthemunny #munnytalks #rockstar!eddie munson #mafia!eddie munson #modern!eddie munson #dom!eddie munson #janitor!eddie munson #cowboy!eddie munson #older!dilf!eddie munson #bouncer!eddie munson

[tassodelmiele]

Noisy little mess

Hi sweetie ⁓

I swear to god i'm dreaming about the future plot lately, and I chukle in my sleep since it's so funny dealing with (stalking) the Task Force even if i shouldn't laugh about the things i'm thinking about and i'm so happy to see you've got the same problem as me.

Send hugs to wherever you are ⁓

DISCLAIMERS: clean from smut, but a lot of ignoring feelings and responsabilities; GhostxReader and his will to pretend she doesn't exist (spoiler, he fails); how-to-not-doing-a-mission-safely; a sprinkle of paternal chat; Task Force being misterious about their Lt.; ghosts scared of gnomes.

..................................................

Third part here:

..................................................

You don't know how you've managed to come back safely to your room.

What you do know is that, since yesterday, your Lt is nowhere to be found.

Oh, and you've finally got menstruations. Soap is the first one who gets aware of this, welcoming you at the breakfast table with the sweetest:

«Ye're finally bleeding, aren't ye?»

Gaz throws him a bunch of towels before Price manages to save the few left, hiding them under his plate.

You sit next to Johnny. It is so rare to have the Captain at breakfast, and it is even…suspicious. You swallow your oatmeal silently, gazing at Price till he murmurs: «What is it?» that smells like coffee and late night work.

«Mmmnothin'» 

He sighs, finally raising his sight at you.

«Spit it out. What's wrong?» 

«Mmmh…»

He sips his black coffee while exchanging a sight war with you, who're looking at him through the spoonful of chocolate oatmeal, eyes sharpened as a knife. Price leans toward you, willing to win the challenge, when Gaz suddenly asks:

«Have someone seen the Lt? I need to give him a-»

«Speaking of him-» you suddenly burst, breaking the eye contact with Price just to make him sighs for the second times in five minutes. He raises an hand toward your face.

«If you're seeking revenge for your injury-»

«I'm not» you reply almost immediately. «Even if he was a dick»

Price scolds you immediately with a threatening: «language, rookie»

You scroll your shoulders, knowing well you can push yourself so far just 'cause they don't really care about discipline towards each other. At least not at breakfast. 

«He's disappeared. So: either he really is a ghost, and he vanished; or he's hiding from me»

Gaz was about to make a joke on your words, but he suddenly stops, with his fork still stuck on the omelet.

«…what? Why from you?»

«Ye'r not that scary»

«I bet i am»

«Hold on, hold on» 

Price makes his way through the speech, raising his hands to gain silence. Then he looks at you like he's watching a child trying to convince an ice cream he's not about to eat it.

«So that's what it's going on» and murmurs to himself: «that bloody liar…»

You gasp in surprise, just to make some drama, and Johnny follows your move like a Victorian damoiselle. You slam your hands on the table before Price could speak again, or try to run away from his own words, and you suddenly remember about your elbow. Painful moans are choked in your guts as you spit out a too loud:

«Explain»

And Price answer with an abrupt:

«No»

And Johnny puts out his best puppy eyes, leaning on the table toward his Captain:

«Please! We need to know!»

«We?» John looks at him like he's surrounded by chatty widows. «Why in the bloody hell would you like to know somethin' you're not even involved in?»

«At this point 's a matter of principle»

«A what?»

«We're a team, secrets can't tear us apart»

«That's not a secret»

«Than speak»

«Is it about the fact that Ghost is either tryna kill or getting acquainted with her?»

Three pairs of eyes suddenly glare toward Gaz, who once again freezes with his fork balanced toward his mouth. He smiles nervously.

«…am I allowed to feel in danger?»

Johnny answer with a too sudden: «yes»

Price takes out a cigar with nonchalance, pointing it at Garryk « So you've noticed. At least one brain in my team is not totally burnt»

«Waitwaitwait» you bring back to you the attention, raising an hand to take the floor. «Is he really scared of me? That's why I haven't seen him around in 24 hours?»

«He told me he needed to figure something out 'cause of a problem you've made». Price gives you a look. «I've thought of talking to you about it, but… I'm not blind, rookie. And now that you've speak about him fearing you…i kinda understand what it's passing through his mind»

Gaz nods in agreement. Johnny takes his time to think about it, and after ten seconds of the other two staring at him he eventually realizes something.

Something that you're not getting.

Your eyes jump on their faces with the urge of the only gamer in the team who doesn't know how to cheat. Your fingers dig deeper in the cuticles as you see the three men stand up and make their way out of the dining hall.

«Hey! You can't leave with the secret all to yourself!»

«Sorry kid»

Price pat your head before waving at you, leaving you with what's left of your oatmeal and a few, terse words:

«If he'll feels like it, he'll tell you»

He stops. He suddenly turns serious.

«Do you think you're ready to show us how reliable you are?»

You falter, mumbling: «…yeah…?»

«Good. I've got a work for you, rookie»

Documents are on his desk. Not just any pile of paper: the pile of paper, the intel they were waiting for, the information they've searched for for almost three months.

Ghost is reading the sheets again and again. Yeah, there's no doubt: it's what they've needed, and it is there, on his desk, spawned out of nowhere when he was away for a…mission. Let's call it a mission.

He should be pleased. Happy to say the least, since this kinda intel's like food from heaven for the task force.

But he's…kinda lost in his thoughts. Almost annoyed. 

«Who in the bloody hell…» he murmurs as he takes a look at the sheets, not even realizing that someone else has entered the room. 

«your fav rookie» 

Price's voice makes him fall from his thought's tree. Ghost glares at him through the mask, inspecting his Cap who's clinging on the door frame with a lot of nonchalance, arms crossed and an amused smile on his face. 

«…ya'r not meaning-»

«I am»

«Mh»

«surprised? She did an hell of a job, in a good way» he comes in, shutting the door. «She's a good one»

«yeah…»

«That's all you've got?»

Ghost almost stops to breath; his gaze at Price's like laser beam, and he has to collect enough air to blow out a stern:

«Do ya need something else? 'Ve got work to do»

And Price waste no time to smile back a:

«Old demons eat your tongue?»

To what Ghost' s answer's a growl: «mh»

Price shakes his shoulders, approaching the door to go out. «Just an impression of mine»

Ghost's voice stops him at the door knob: 

«Ya'r wrong»

«Mmm, yeah? About what?»

«Stop thinking about it, i know you are»

«Tell me what to think then»

«She's not like that»

«Oh, so there is a "she" in your brain»

«Don't read into it»

«You know what's fun?» the Captain comes back, taking a seat in front of Ghost, pointing at him with his judgmental finger «You're dealing with her like she's blackmailing you, or something. Nervous smiles, stupid revenges…»

«Bullshits»

«'S that so? And how do ya call the little problem during training session?»

«A problem. That's all»

«Ghost-»

«No»

He stands, turning his back at the Captain. And that, for him, was the end of the chat. 

But not for Price.

«Is not a shame falling for someone»

And the Lt. gives him the coldest glare, jerking his sight at his Cap.

«I'm not» he spit with a harsh voice.

Price doesn't move. He checks his pocket, taking his first cigar of the day just to put it through his lips and chewing the tip lightly, eyes glued to Ghost's. The Cap. nods.

«Good to know» he murmurs. 

That was the end of the story. Or at least Ghost has hoped so.

Three days later, he can't help but walk through the base with his eyes fixed on every rookie who stands in his way. He had searched the dining room every morning, checked the training field, the goddamn gym in the evening, even waited for a few minutes every time he passed by her room.

Nothing.

None.

No sign of aggressive gnomes around. 

Ghost sips his black coffee in complete silence, glaring at everyone for no apparent reason. He needed to end that odd feeling, those annoying jumps of adrenaline, the bad sensation that something hostile was growing within his stern, cold behavior, breaking it from the inside, scratching away the metal wrap he had built to better control every inch of himself.

And he needed to have her in front of him, speaking out loud the reasons why she was eating his insides like a virus, and asking her, gently or not, to try her best and pretend the two of them do not know each other. 

Feeling things for others, either bad or good…it wasn't for him. 

«Bloody little idiot…»

«Hope ye'r not talking 'bout me»

Ghost's gaze raises as Johnny joins his solitary coffee-sipping ritual. He put his mug on the table, spreading around chocolate aroma.

The Lt. recognizes it immediately: «That's her goddamn pudding»

«I'm addicted»

Breakfast brings back silent eating and mumbling on caffeine. Soap devours his oatmeal, waiting. 

'Cause he knows he just has to wait.

It takes Ghost just one minute and a half to burst out a pretended unselfish:

«Maybe she has eaten that much chocolate that she's become one bar»

«Mh?»

«She's nowhere to be found in person, it seems»

«Are ye searching for her?»

«'Cause of the intel she'd collected» he rushes a justification that Soap doesn't really buy. Johnny almost absorbs his last spoonful, chewing out words mixed with chocolate:

«Price's sent her on a mission. Confidential» he adds. «Dunno 'bout details»

Oh.

That was unexpected; so unexpected that Ghost bites his tongue after rushing out a too fast:

«When?»

The spoon falls in the mug with a metal tingle; Soap's side eyes reach Ghost.

«…are ye worried?»

«No» he bursts. 

«Well, we are. Me and Gaz»

That doesn't sound like a lie, and Simon has to lower his shield made of pretending-not-to-think-about-her stuff. Soap keeps on, his eyes wandering around the crowded room:

«Maybe Price's overestimated her skills, dunno…or maybe she's just not ready. 'S strange not having news after three days»

«You two do like her»

Soap sighs, shaking away from his shoulders the morning stiffness.

«She's a good one. She's fun. But she's not so skilled on the field»

«You don't get worried about every rookie's first time. Sooner or later they'll have to be kicked out of the nest»

«If the one that's been kicked out 's ma fav sparrow chick, at least i hope that it'll fall on something soft»

«She's no chick, and not my fav» he rushes again, eagerly to end the conversation and get the fuck out of there. He stands, with a chuckling Soap next to him, who knows his Lt. too well and knows he just has to wait a little more, to give him time to elaborate his thoughts in a more sensible way.

Ghost's first impulse is always imposing himself as a threatening and leading figure. It's an habit. 

But this time he doesn't have time to retry his answer.

A worried Gaz appears in the dining room, rushing toward them in some sort of urgency. 

«You two» he breathes out, clinging on the table while regaining some air in his lungs «Do you want the good news, or the it-could-be-better news?»

«Were ye runnin' a bloody marathon at the fucking six in the morning?» 

«Good new» Ghost answer, still holding his empty coffee mug. «Always good news first»

Gaz gazes at them, elaborating his words as best as he could: «…do ya remember the no-one's-going-to-do-that-mission topic in our last meeting?»

«That sort of suicidal duty 'bout sneaking alone in a mafia boss dirty party?»

Gaz nods. «That one»

«With none to cover your arse?»

«Yeah»

«That one Laswell was tryna to figure out so bad 'cause the goddamn boss had valuable infos 'bout big weapons traffic?»

«Aha»

«But none was that stupid to try it?»

«Soap». Ghost stops his Sergeant's stream of thoughts with a glare through the balaclava. «Cut it. What's the bloody good news 'bout it Garryk?»

«Mission's been accomplished» he spits, with neither a smile nor optimism, and a strange, worried look. Soap's eyes get wider.

«Are ye fucking kidding? Who's the idiot who tried it in the first place?»

Gaz sighs.

«'S our idiot»

It takes a bunch of seconds to link the description with a face, but your silly little smile rushes through their brain almost immediately. Soap stands up so fast the chair almost falls.

«WHAT-»

«The other news » Ghost's harsh voice talks over him, with a hint of hurriness, an almost audible tip of concern that he swallows.

And Gaz wastes no time:

«Now she can drain pasta with her arm»

..................................................

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod fanfic #fanfiction #task force 141 #ghost x reader #ghost x you #johnny soap mctavish #kyle gaz garrick #john price #writers on tumblr #a little bit of Kate Laswell #i like being annoying #i've tried not to write so much dialogues #i've failed #sorry #i just love to think about the task force being concerned about their little gnome #so surprised i could even managed to post something long enough to reach a part four #i promise there will be smut at some point #you perv

[satanicspinosaurus]

Seconds

Tags: Bloodweave, Gale’s cooking, blood, cow’s blood, gift giving, fluff, getting together, after a break up, basically two hungry and scared people trying to figure out the world, Gale’s POV, so enjoy all his insecurities, and some verbose writing choices that are intentional, Astarion snark, kissing, ear touching, frankly you can read half of this as a metaphor for sex, author can’t stop you, author thinks it would be a mistake though 

Length: 2k

Rating: Teen

Read on A03: here.

Summary: Gale and Astarion had struck up a friendship after a failed night of romance. Now, with the Netherbrain fight around the corner, Gale finds his heart still aches to give Astarion any scrap of happiness he can offer. This is a story about a man made of failures and hunger, trying to be a good friend. It begins with a steak. And ends with this most delicious second course.

With thanks: To my dear friend @lumienyx, who is frankly encouraging my bullshit at an alarming rate. And to the lovely @tragedybunny who hunted down the typos and errors on this like Tara feasting on pigeons. 

•・・・◉・・・•

Gale rummaged through the spice cabinet of the Inn. He was pleased to see that the cook, who had allowed him to slip her a few gold coins for access and privacy, had managed to craft a solid selection. The sprig rosemary seemed a touch too on the nose, so he grabbed a little bundle of thyme instead- striping it into the butter as the filet sizzled in the cast iron skillet.

It was a delicate process, mainly because he was aiming for as close to rare as humanly possible to achieve. It didn’t give him much time to develop a proper crust, but as Gale spooned the butter back onto the filet, he also pulled from the Weave. Perhaps he asked more than normally would be needed for a simple cantrip. But he needed to infuse all the wonderful things Astarion deserved to taste in it. 

Astarion meandered in a few moments later, when Gale had plated it and was intensely overseeing the food resting as if he could personally will it to perfection. 

The vampire gave a sharp tut after observing the scene, perhaps annoyed his entrance hadn’t been noted. 

“When you said you had a surprise for me to try, darling, I assumed it would be something that would make me interested in swallowing,” the vampire finally said to announce his presence.  

Gale looked up brightly at where the playful swatting came from, a warm smile breaking onto his face. He laid the best knife and fork he could find near the plate and pushed it forward.  

“Ah, trust me my dear friend,” Gale encouraged. “I do believe I have made some acceptable advances since the last time you tried my cooking.” 

That had been back when Astarion was still trying to hide what, and more importantly, who he was. Perhaps it had helped in the long run though. It had taught Gale that Astarion could put a wide variety of things in his mouth and pretend to love it. Later, after sampling a decent red Astarion claimed to be vinegar, Gale had come to the quick conclusion that vampirism negatively affected the culinary practice of taste. 

The idea was tantalizing to him. In part because no bestiary had even half the details he could observe in a single evening around Astarion. But he also hoped to reach past the honeyed words for the real truth. 

He was curious, in particular, about why Astartion still attempted to drink wine. It said something about appetite that felt vaguely nostalgic to Gale. 

But then Tav, who had uncritically eaten up Astarion’s sweet smiles and words at the party, eagerly indulged in their place of origin first. Gale didn't feel hurt that Astarion preferred someone else's straightforward affection over his own questions. The tadpoles had made their timelines risky and fortune favored the bold. 

It was a short thing, in the end though. After one encounter, Tav ultimately found her heart lay more with Karlach’s wholesome sweetness. It was better fit for her than wrestling with the delicate halflies that laid nestled to hide half-truths in Astarion’s heart. If it had hurt him, the vampire hadn’t let on, going back to mulling around the camp with hungry eyes and talking of desires. 

And once again, Gale was left turning over the dozens of little curious details about appetite Astarion occasionally dropped; trying to lay them out and find the bigger picture. Gale had been too confident of his ability to uncover that truth once again. Astarion’s sudden thrust backing onto the dating scene hadn’t struck him as quite so desperate, but a beautiful mystery he alone could solve.

He was grateful his hubris had at least allowed him the chance of friendship with Astarion. Rather than once again stripping him of everything when he inevitably failed. No, he savored the friendship he was allowed. Even if, quietly, his heart still wanted to give Astarion all the beauty his mind could dream of and his hands could weave. 

The food was a meager offering, really, but the wizard was happy to see Astarion shrug and sit down to try it. 

Maybe it wasn’t everything Gale had dreamed of in his books to see a bit of excitement build on the man’s face when he delicately sniffed his offering. He was not worthy of giving a thousand days and nights of little pleasures to anyone, it would seem. But, oh, if his heart didn’t flutter a bit at how Astarion’s eyes widened slightly when he gracefully cut into the steak and a weave-enhanced aroma wafted up. 

Gale had truly grown to enjoy his time spent in friendship with the pale elf. He was a stellar, if not acerbic, conversationalist. And the only other person at camp that enjoyed books beyond bawdy romances. Astarion was a person Gale could imagine being around every day for decades without it ever becoming boring. Well, assuming Gale wouldn’t be left alone because the vampire wandered off to find more interesting company than a stuffy wizard. 

At least for now, sometimes he’d say something clever and elicit a sharp grin. Or he’d make a genuine offer to want to properly introduce Astarion to Tara once this was all over, and something soft would grow on the man’s face before he schooled it away. Hells, even walking around Baldur’s Gate and just commenting on architecture with him made Gale desperate to show Astarion Waterdeep.  

It was clear his dear friend had a taste for the finer things in life, but had been left starved. Gale wanted to lay out a banquet for him, to hear his commentary and innovate until he found satisfaction. It was a beautiful thought for the future, but that was a thing still being written. 

Gale needed to try and take that joy and give it in lump sum, lest the worst happened tomorrow. There were notes in his pack on leads Astarion could begin searching down for help finding a place in the sunlight, that he’d entrust to a messenger soon. A desperate letter to his mother, hoping she would extend the clan’s aid to his dear friend. A few letters of introduction that Gale prayed would be enough to get Astarion a chance to observe rare books at Candlekeep if he so needed.  

In the meantime, Gale had but this moment. Watching Astarion primly take a bite of the filet and chew as if he was a bit out of practice. 

This wasn’t the first time Gale had cooked something special for someone - he had a sophomoric idea of what facial expressions to expect. Like always, Astarion didn’t disappoint though with novelty. There was a strange look on his face; emotions roiling so intensely nothing had a beginning nor end. 

“This is shit,” Astarion eventually hissed. 

Gale offered up open palms, apologetic shoulders, and the broken in, embarrassed smile of a man so used to his reach exceeding his grasp in anything that truly mattered. 

“I’m sorry,” he began. “You don’t have to finish it–” 

Astarion looked him dead in the eye. When he had Gale's full attention, he stabbed the piece of meat like it had been carved from Cazador himself. He brought it to his mouth and bit down. Hard. Hard enough Gale could hear the cutlery screech in protest. 

Astarion was a messy eater- a man of singularly devouring hunger. The blood from the filet trickled down his chin, to his chest, marking him temporarily like Gale’s own source of perverse appetite.

Gale watched him swallow and ruminate. 

“This tastes like goodbye,” the man drawled, eyes pinning Gale to his spot. “I don’t like it.” 

Gale smiled, trying to ignore the first thing and address only the second. 

“Well, sometimes experiments don’t always work out,” he began to affably ramble. “I did believe that a few uses of prestidigitation would help overcome your normally exclusively sanguine diet, but I would still appreciate if you could offer some notes-” 

While Gale had been prattling about cantrips, Astarion had decided to switch from rumination to predation. He had gotten up, head refusing to move as he stalked towards Gale like a cat fixated on a songbird. The vampire pounced, slamming the wizard into the cabinets. All it took was a bold hand wrenching one wrist up above his head and a tongue thrust into his mouth to strip him of his power, his self-image as Gale of Waterdeep. 

Astarion devoured Gale Dekarios’ mouth, eating up the moans his actions elicited.  

After a second or eternity, the poor man wasn’t sure which, Astarion broke away to let Gale pant. 

“I want seconds,” Astarion commanded, his other hand running down a thigh- barely keeping to a space that wouldn’t be scandalous if someone walked in. 

Gale tried to master his fluttering heart, to let it accept air and nourishment so it would stop screaming in his chest almost loud enough that it drowned out the orb. 

“You don’t,” he gasped, licking his lips before trying again. “You said you don’t do seconds.” 

That was one of the first, sharp pieces of truth Astarion had flung at him, after their night of gentle love making had cracked through a mask made to suffer only harsh blows. 

People don’t use me twice, he had lilted in the morning. After he had time to lick the wounds Gale’s gentle praise had inflicted and compose himself back to untouchable beauty. Go find someone you can wake up with a thousand times. 

That was back when Astarion wasn’t sure if he would be free, but Gale was still hopeful a solution was available for his own woes. Now things had changed. 

Gale felt the grip on his wrist tighten. Nails that bit into his skin, fearful that without the contact there would be nothing. It was the touch of a man who had rejected the stolen pleasures of ascending, and now wished to ground himself in freely offered affections. 

“I didn’t want you to die,” Astarion offered quietly as his body screamed in accordance. “But I am realizing now that not dying is second to living.” 

Gale wanted to soothe away the worry on the man's face. To cradle the pressed brow gently and let it entrust all its worries to him. But Astarion held him firm. No matter - Gale always had a clever tongue.

"With the number of threats our group has managed to vanquish in the last tenday alone, I think our odds are very good at succeeding, Astarion."

Astarion laughed, letting go of Gale’s wrist to poke at the site where the orb marked him. “I know this is your back-up plan, Gale. Maybe you’ll blow yourself up if we struggle too much against the Netherbain. Maybe you’ll let Mystra own you to remove it. Or she’ll use it as a threat to bargain against your interest in the Crown. But I am tired of petty tyrants’ wants and demands.” 

“She’s a Goddess, Astarion, it’s not remotely-” Gale tried to interject. 

Astarion didn’t even dignify that with a verbal response. He simply looked at Gale, eyes flickering from where the orb burned him to his own, violently marked neck. Astarion knew what manufactured pain was, appetites unanswered. It was why they spoke so easily, they shared this perverse second language. 

“You deserve a choice too,” Astarion eventually said. 

The first kiss in the kitchen was Astarion’s - passionate and aggressive to hide the tenderness it came from. The second was Gale’s - slow and soft, an adventure that ended with being more daring by the hearth. They weren’t so different. Both had left a man gasping for more, a hand traveling to places to hint at encores. 

Astarion leaned into the way Gale’s fingers gripped his curls, the pad of his thumb ever so slightly brushing against his ear in a way that would barely be considered scandalous if anyone ever came in. 

“What if I wanted to choose a second Mr. Dekarios?” Gale whispered. 

Astarion had a talent for saying one thing, but meaning another. It was intoxicating to Gale. The way he could roll his eyes and bring up a lip in a perfect sneer that to an onlooker signaled disgust embodied, a hint of fang and claws coming out. But oh, if the man wasn’t still tender to the touch- a gentle weight that was as inviting as his words were barbed. A secret laid out only for him to discover.

“Well, you should probably get better at cooking, darling. I have no clue how you plan to catch any self-respecting man in your current situation.” 

His hungry red eyes glanced down to a plate that was empty. 

“I, for one, have standards,” Astarion said softly. 

Gale was a man of great pride. It was tempting to press back, to needle the vampire. Perhaps to bring a thumb to wipe up the blood that was still shining on his neck and watch the man lick it off before calling him on the falsehood. 

But on second thought, Gale also desperately needed to close his eyes and believe in the magic of being allowed this close again. He leaned his brow to Astarion’s to give a kiss to the naked skin he found. Not to soothe away the way the vampire had his eyebrows furrowed in concern of being seen. But as a promise he loved this too and wanted it just as much as every other part of him. 

“I look forward to learning about every single one, no matter how small or obscure,” he promised. “I will ascribe them upon my heart, and treasure each word as a gift.” 

Astarion looked at him, searching for the lie. Gale was granted the privilege of watching his eyes grow soft with the knowledge that the wizard was as sincere as he was loquacious.

Then, he had the thrill of watching a vampire who had recently declared he wanted to start living realize he was ravenous.

And that Gale was the perfect second course for this evening and many more to come. 

︶꒦꒷❤︎꒷꒦︶

Author Notes: Thank you for reading this! As always, I would like to remind you thirsty folks to hydrate a bit if needed. Although I suppose for this fic, maybe encouraging you to get a snack would be more appropriate! 

Please let me know if you enjoyed the pun in the tags. :P 

Hopefully this is the start of a solid writing month for me. I'm going to be aiming to put out something each Monday.

#astarion #bg3 astarion #fanfic #bloodweave #fluff #SpinoWrites #yes I do cook a lot #I imagine Gale's love language includes gift giving #I think he learned it from Tara #technically its not blood that comes out of steak when you bite it btw #its myogoblin #But its a protein and iron and looks vaguely like blood so enjoy

[blackholemojis]

u have made posts telling about your aac you use... would u b willing to share images of how you have it set up and maybe give tips for people working on making their own aac?

I would love to but I think it may give away my anonymity, since I like to share pictures of my different pages. I can share some details and organizing tips though! This isn't anything comprehensive, I think I'd need to spend a lot more time on that, but hopefully this is helpful for someone. For context, I use TD Snap Lite :)

I'll include a list of different word categories at the bottom under the cut, so if you're looking for types of words to focus on, you can skip to there!

Organization part 1

I keep all my commonly used words and folders for other words on my quickfires page, starting with basic communication words (yes/no, who/what/where, etc) and folders (conversation phrases, short responses, nouns, verbs, etc).

Then I have commonly used descriptors, connector words, actions, and nouns. All these are broad words like "thing" or "person," "and" or "because," and "go" and "fix." Even if I didn't have a button for a specific concept, I would still be able to describe it, like "the thing that is mine."

I organize the different buttons in rows on the same page, and try to group similar words together, that way I can find them easily.

I started with buttons for different bADLs (basic activities of daily living), which are bathing, dressing, grooming/hygiene, eating, toileting, and transferring/movement. Then I went to activities that I do every day, like studying, doing housework, or watching TV.

The idea is that I would be able to get through a whole day and be able to describe what I want, what I need, my activities, and what I don't want or need (the ability to say no is important, even for little things!)

Organization part 2

What words I have is important, but so is how I make sure I can find them easily. With TD Snap you can give buttons custom colors and custom border colors, so I use those to organize types of words, and types within those types (so verbs versus nouns, and then people-nouns versus object-nouns)

I also put the most commonly used words towards the right side of the screen, since I'm right handed and that means they'll be easiest to access.

I try to use pastels so I can read the labels, and I edit the text size of all buttons so I can see the symbol and label well. With descriptors, I try to group similar ones together, and group ones that have "opposites" either right next to each other or one above the other (words like up and down, or inside and outside).

Finding gaps

The easiest way for me to figure out what buttons I'm missing is by using my AAC when I'm near full spoons and can think about language well, like now. That way I know what I'm missing, and I can make a button and organize it in the moment without it taking much energy. Usually I'm missing different categories of words, like colors, or words to describe time.

Here's a bunch of word categories under the cut, starting with "essentials" and then moving on to common non-essentials! Feel free to ask me to include any other ideas

BADLs

Bathing (shower, bath, sponge bath, and related words you use for bathing)

Dressing (getting dressed, getting undressed, picking out clothes, words for different types of clothes)

Grooming/hygiene (brushing teeth, flossing teeth, brushing/combing hair, trimming hair, dyeing hair, cleaning piercings, washing face, shaving, makeup)

Eating/drinking (breakfast, lunch, dinner, snack, meal, types of food you eat, spoon, fork, knife, chopstick, bowl, plate, mug, water, warm beverages, napkins, and any other words you use for eating/drinking)

Toileting (bathroom, stall, toilet, sink, washing hands, soap, toilet paper, menstrual products, changing toileting equipment, and any other words)

Transferring/Movement (any mobility aids you use, transferring to/from mobility aids, terms for your aids, walk, run, jog. I included transportation words like "drive" and "car" in my section for this, but that's not necessary)

Essential communication

Yes (and variations)

No (and variations)

Maybe

Something else

I don't know

I need

I don't need

I want

I don't want

options for basic needs, so you can say "I need" and "use the bathroom" (eating, drinking, sleeping, waking, showering/bathing, using the bathroom, dental care, hair care, getting dressed, getting undressed, changing menstrual products, changing medical equipment, and transferring to/from mobility aids)

I consent

I do not consent

I revoke consent

Leave

Stay

Help

Fringe vocabulary for everyday activities and emergencies

Emergency words/phrases (I need a doctor, etc)

Personal info (name, age, etc)

Disability/mental health/medical terms that apply to you

Parts of the body

Types of injury/medical issues

Places you go

People you live with

People you interact with often

Pets names

Neighbors names

Carer or staff name(s)

Important belongings and things you use every day

Everyday hobbies (bike, watch show, etc)

Everyday to-do list activities (do laundry, shower, etc)

Action words (things one can do)

Common nouns (persons, places, things, and ideas)

Connector words (and, to, since, etc)

Feelings (positive, neutral, and negative)

Descriptor words

Colors

Direction

Size

Shape

Days of the week

Months

Seasons

Numbers

Describing amount (some, many, a little, few, all, none)

Describing time (then, now, before, after)

Temperature

Weather

Difficulty

Age

Texture

Personal opinion descriptors (nasty, beautiful, boring)

#blackholemojis talks #part time aac user #aac board #aac #long post

[stararch4ngelqueen]

La Dama Sin Cara (18+)

Part 7 of Ghosts and Mirages

Warning: STRONG mentions of blood/gore/violence! Heavy angst, use of guns/knives. Breach of trust, trust issues, jealousy, mentions of suicide, suicide letters. HEAVY smut, choking, aggressive sex, radio sex, overstimulation, unprotected sex, minor knife play, mirror sex, slight bondage, possessive kinks.

!Please Beware! This part contains multiple chapters, with their own unique summaries, tags/warnings!

Summary: Trust was everything to him, just as it was to you. You trusted him as much as you adored him to not hurt you, those were your own words. He trusted you to not actively seek out that pain, believing he was keeping you physically safe. You should’ve known better then to be too curious.

Additional Summary: Will take place into leading mission into Las Almas, where you learn the cultures of Mexico and its hidden vipers, alongside your new teammates, as well as discovering the consequences of your own actions.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Mirage? You listening?"

"What? Yeah, I am."

"Right. So, they're estimating we'll be arriving aroun' 0200, hopefully we'll be back before mornin, y'know?"

"Mhm."

"Yeah," Soap slowed his words, staring at your bowed head, your gaze lingering down along your plate in front of you. "An' if you were listenin' to me, you'd agree that I'm a better shot than you."

"In your dreams." You looked back at him while stabbing your fork into your food, smirking just a bit at his cheeky grin.

“Christ, eat woman. Or I’ll force feed ya myself.” He muttered while bringing his spoon down towards his tray, watching you roll your eyes before shoving food in your mouth.

The two of you found each other during dinner time, taking up residence at one of the vacant tables by the entrance. Usually, Gaz would join the both of you, but his current mission with Price had him in Amsterdam, but you weren't saying you enjoyed Soap's company any less if he wasn't here regardless.

With the raging lines entering the mess hall dimming down significantly, you could eat more comfortably with your mask off, sitting in a way where anyone would at least see the normal side of your face upon first glance without doing unnecessary double takes.

Everyone stares, it's the human's natural curiosity. Even you were victim to it, but it didn't make you feel any better regardless of how many times you've tried to ignore it.

"So," You brought your knuckle over your lips. "You want me to be completely oblivious if he asks me?"

"I'm just sayin' if he asks, pretend you don't know nothing. That's all."

Soap watched your head nod, smiling a bit before losing focus once more. You looked like you had an awful lot on your mind lately, and he wasn't too sure why. Maybe it was just for the mission the two of you were assigned to tonight, wondering if you were planning on getting in a few hours of sleep before the trip.

The silence made him a little weary, clicking his tongue purposefully loud to break you from your thoughts.

"Christ, for a woman like you, I'd imagine you'd pay better attention to your superiors."

"A woman like me?" You huffed as your head rose again, reaching your left hand over for your drink. "Elaborate, please. I'm dying to know what you mean by that."

"Oh, y'know, a woman like you." He gestured at you with his spoon, swallowing his food before continuing. "Yer strong, smart, got bigger bollocks than any other man I've met thus far."

"Easy there, Ghost might get jealous." You snickered a little, watching him smirk. "Eh, Simon ain't around to glare at me for it, think I'm in the clear."

You giggled again, setting your cup down beside you. "You're sweet John, but you're just being nice."

"I'm bein' serious, learn to take a damn compliment every once in a while." His brow firmed, making your gaze grow a bit firmer towards the Scotsman.

"What you've been through to get here now, an' everything that's happened in between, I need to admit, I admire you, lass. You're still standin' an' still smilin', that takes strong guts."

You reached for your drink again, lowering your gaze for a moment down into the liquid in your cup. Your mind raced with various thoughts, not really expecting a talk to from Soap like this of all times like now, of all places.

"Hey," John spoke up to gain back your attention, watching your eyes nervously glance up back at him. "Hope I didn't make you nervous, it's just... I don't know, you've changed is all. Just wanted to remind you of the strong woman I see now. The one who looks like she'll kick me under the table if I say another word."

Change? You almost snorted into your cup, catching the thin streams of liquid that rolled down the sides of your lips.

"Jesus, John." Reaching for the napkin he held out to you with a loud chuckle, you cleaned your mouth before composing yourself, showing him a slight smile after that minorly embarrassing outburst.

After composing yourself, your eyes trailed down towards his casually rested forearm on the table. You reached your hand out to rest against the back of his large palm.

As sweet as he was trying to be, a small part of you deep in your mind wanted to refuse his words. Compliments like these were flattering, sure, but you were just you. Despite what's happened, you were just as much of a soldier as anyone else.

Still, you couldn't deny the warmth that spread throughout your chest from his words.

"You don't have to say those things, John. I appreciate it though. Thanks."

"Aye." John smiled a little more, glancing down at your hand, his gaze following as you removed it.

"Is he starin' at me?" He suddenly asked in a low mutter.

"Who?"

"Ghost." He states, making you raise a brow. Ghost?

Your eyes flicked upwards towards the exit, spotting none other than the tall, ever so familiar man standing in the vacant entryway behind Soap.

His posture was stiff, his shoulder pressed against the left side of the wall he leaned against. His broad arms were crossed, his head tilted downwards as he glared at Soap with hard, narrowed eyes at the display, almost making the whites of his eyes look nonexistent from the black paint shadowing his lids.

Maybe he heard every word Mactavish said, or maybe he came and saw the moment your hand settled on his. Regardless, he stood there like a bouncer at a nightclub, glaring down at someone who tried entering with a fake ID.

"No. He isn't." You chose to say, meeting John's gaze with your attempt at a serious expression.

"You're a terrible liar, lass." John squinted his eyes at you, watching your corners of your lips diligently try to refrain from smiling.

"Check." You flicked your head upwards, watching him turn his head to look over his shoulder.

Just like you expected, he was gone. As if he was never there.

The relieved look on John's face right after left you trying to use every facial muscle you could to stop smiling.

"Coulda swore he was there." John chuckled just a bit, proceeding to smirk at you again. "You looked like you had hearts in your eyes when you looked up."

"Oh, fuck off," You giggled, picking your abandoned fork off your tray.

"You sure he didn't come by to view his most favorite Seargent?" You tilted your head, watching his hand freeze. His brows fiercely furrowed, looking at you with an intense look of confusion.

"Who? Me?" He pointed at himself.

"Duh. Who else?"

"N-no," He chuckled, proceeding to shake his head. "No, lass. Don't get any ideas."

"Are you blushing??" You smiled more, starting to laugh when he shook his head again, a faint flush kissing his cheeks. "John! That's cute!"

"Christ, enough!" He barks at you, unable to hide a smile as you laughed again, joining in with you when you head tilted back in amusement.

"Forget everythin' I said. You didn't change a bit, kid."

"So, who exactly is it again?"

"Major Hassan. Long story short, the Ambassador I was sent to oversee get executed during a meeting with the Russians a few months back, this is his second in command."

"So, he's got all this army together and upgraded in less than three months?"

"It has been three months, but you're correct."

You asked questions you already knew the answers to, all for the sake of putting up the minor facade to keep Ghost from questioning otherwise. That was the plan, supposedly he had no idea that you and Soap were getting assigned under his command to go tonight.

You found him in his office after dinner, busying himself with his work. His office space was quite similar to Price's, but more... plain. Bland.

Price's office had a bit more character, which was a fancy way of saying he had a lot more clutter during the time you spent with him, mostly due to the fact he was always busy with the paperwork. That was part of being a Captain after all, it wasn't all just leading soldiers into battle.

Ghost's office was neater, no clutter of any kind laying around along his desk or overflowing the filing cabinets. All the offices that you've seen looked the same; limited space, bare bones walls, all sealed in by a single door.

When you came in after knocking, Ghost glared at you like nothing more than a recruit, an unknowing fly invading his personal space. In a matter of seconds, upon recognizing your pretty face once you pulled down your mask, his hardened, cold gaze melted just a bit.

You two spoke for a short while, the man attempting to continue his work, but eventually set down his long-forgotten pen. His eyes followed you as you mindlessly paced around his office, not really finding much to look at to keep yourself visually occupied.

You set Ghost's mug of lukewarm tea down on his desk after nursing on it while he spoke, exhaling a little bit while crossing your arms. "Wow, looks like you got your work cut out for you then." You paced away from his desk a bit, bringing your thumbnail to your mouth. "Capture mission, right?"

"Right," Ghost nodded once, watching you from where he sat in his chair. He didn't have spare chairs. He wasn't keen on visitors in his office in the first place.

“C’mere.”

“What?” You turned your head to look at him.

He glared at you, raising his settled hand from his lap to beckon you over with two fingers.

“I said, come here.”

Lowering your hand, you came closer, walking around the edge of his desk to stop in front of him as he turned his chair to face you.

"Why're you here?" He asked, watching you avoid your gaze for a split second before shrugging. "Just wanted to come see you."

"Did you now?" His large hands settled along your waist, instinctively making you take a step closer. "Sure it wasn't for somethin' else?"

Your hands settled along his shoulders, watching his head tilt to look you firmly in the eye. Small height differences like these never mattered, with eyes like his, piercing cold blue on a shade of pink tinted white canvases, he always looked stern, even if he didn’t intend to be. Or maybe it was just his mask doing a very, very good job.

"Tell me, love." He says, giving your waist a minor, semi-warning squeeze.

You leaned closer, keeping eye contact while settling your forehead over his. Being this close left you taking in his natural scent, his sharp, spicy musk mixed with a hint of generic aftershave from this morning, scents that had no business being so comforting, but they were his.

"Are you still jealous over John?" You confessed.

“Which one?” He gruffly questions.

“The one you stared down earlier,” You retorted, huffing a bit.

"What're you jealous over? What did we leave out last time? Hmm?" You leaned your head down to the side, pressing a kiss against his covered jaw before bringing your head back.

"Nothin," He mutters, giving your hips another additional squeeze, his palms slowly lowering down the sides of your thighs.

“Are you jealous because we laugh a lot? Is it cause Soap makes me laugh?"

He didn't look all too pleased with your choice of words. You tilted your head a bit, thinking of something else to say.

“Try it." You then proposed. "Make me laugh."

"You serious?" His brows either furrowed or raised in surprise.

You looked at him with said seriousness while nodding, giving him a bit of a shrug. "Tell me a joke.”

Ghost blinked, finding himself caught a bit off guard by your words. Tell you a joke? What an interesting request.

"Alright." He lowered his arms, folding his hands together in his lap while sitting forward.

“You’re aware that the terms ‘I’m sorry’ an’ ‘I apologize’ are the same thing, right?” He starts off, watching your face contort while thinking.

“Yeah,” you nodded slowly.

“Right. Well, not at a funeral it isn’t.”

You blinked. Ghost blinked right back at you, watching for any sign of... something. Anything.

Your lips started to curl, turning your head to the side as your cheeks puffed. A small snort left your mouth, followed by a growing giggle as the dam quickly fell apart.

Ghost simply continued to stare at you, watching the way your eyes closed as you tilted your head back, your arms falling out of their crossed position. It wasn't a loud bellow, nor was it really an overexaggerated chuckle. It was an honest laugh, your honest laugh, and he could tell was genuine.

That was more than enough to make his heart flutter.

"Christ Simon, not bad." You smiled through your words, "Didn’t know you were hiding some jokes in that head of yours.”

"You'd be scared to find what goes on in it." He sat back in his seat just a bit. "We all have our fair share of secrets to hide, kid."

“Oh, sure. I have a ton of secrets in my fluffy diaries.” You mused, settling your arm comfortably behind his shoulders, pressing your thumb along a strain of muscles that had his eyelids slowly lowering in delight.

"On a side note, I don't like keeping secrets from people I care about." Your voice was soft, as if you were speaking to yourself. Convincing yourself that you would never do such a thing.

His gaze lingered on your face, his hidden lips turning downwards for just a minor second or two.

"That a promise, sweetheart?" He questions you, glancing at you as you reached for the mug once again.

“Of course.” You smile at him before taking another sip of his tea, watching his eyes slowly soften with your answer, though something was a little off about the way he looked at you. You couldn't exactly place your finger towards how.

Releasing your hold on him, you took a step back until you leaned comfortably against his desk, cradling his mug in your hands.

“That can't be comfortable.”

“It feels fine to me.” You adjusted your footing, running your palm along the edge of his desk. “It's quite sturdy.”

He hummed a bit, proceeding to offer his left hand towards you. You rested your palm against his, smiling a little when his thumb brushed along the back of your hand.

“Get off.” He gave your hand a firm tug.

“Make me." You stated, determined to stay where you were.

“My office isn’t the place for that.” His eyes hardened at your choice of words.

“Offices are boring," You rolled your eyes, setting the now empty mug down. "I bet you if I walked in here in a coat with nothing under it, you’d change your mind.”

A hidden brow rose at your sudden, peculiarly interesting choice of words. “You suggestin' that I’m missing a coat rack in here?”

“You have any I can borrow? Coats, I mean.”

“Got a gray one. You could borrow that, if you get off my bloody desk.”

"Again, Mr. Riley. Make me."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Enjoy the chapter so far? Enjoy the rest of these (smutty) chapters on my Ao3!

Read here as well on my Wattpad!

#ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty #simon riley smut #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #captain john price #soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #ghosts & mirages #alejandro vargas #valeria garza #rodolfo parra #philip graves

[spongeyspot]

Can we get some modern John hcs?

-🤡

General Modern John Marston HCs

(repost)

- adopted by Dutch - Full sleeve tattoos - D+/C- average student - Dropped out of HS/ got his GED to work full time and pay child support - Firm believer that “condoms don’t feel as good” - his pull out game is sub par at best - On and off with Abigail  - Definitely one of those muscle car douchebags - Owns a maroon colored 1967 ford mustang - Cares more about that damn car then anything else in the world - washes it at least 3 or 4 times a week - always speeds. Says the speed limit is “just a suggestion” - Double parks often - Secretly writes poetry - Also, not so secretly plays in an emo garage band on the side - Apartment is a certified bachelor pad - The whopping 24 inch tv sits on a cardboard box, and a single plastic lawn chair sits right smack in the middle of the room - Mattress is on the floor - And it’s covered in his clean clothes. He refuses to buy a dresser and has never owned a single coat hanger in his life - Refuses to wash the dishes. The sink is full and he has resorted to buying paper plates instead of actually dealing with it - We’re not even gonna talk about the contents of his fridge. Or lack thereof. Usually just orders out. - His silverware drawer has 1 spoon, 1 fork, and 1 butter knife, and they’re the only things he washes. - and by "washes" i mean he puts it in his mouth to wet it and then wipes it off with his t-shirt - The shower is completely empty aside from a bottle of dawn dish soap that sits on one of the shelves - Also probably washes himself with a literal kitchen sponge -Owns 1 bath towel and it hasn’t been washed since he moved in 5 years ago. He dries himself off with it after he showers so he thinks it’s still clean - Leaves it in a pile on the bathroom floor so when he uses it the next time he showers, it kinda stinks and it’s still a lil damp.  - His skincare routine is splashing water on his face and somehow he has the clearest skin in the fucking world - Brings store bought food from the gas station to family gatherings - sleeps through his 11,000 alarms he has set on his phone all 5 minutes apart

#john marston #john marston hcs #john marston headcanons #headcanons #hc #hcs #red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 john marston #john marston rdr2 #rdr2 #rdr #john marston rdr #rdr john marston #modern au john marston #modern au

[supermanshield]

Devotion

Clark/Bruce, 3.6k words, explicit

It happened again, I tried to write something serious and porn came out. This is for passing 1500 followers. Thank you all so much for sticking with me even though I haven't been very active lately!

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

"C-clark." 

"That's it, baby," Clark pauses, making Bruce realize he has just groaned loudly into the sweaty pillow he’s been holding on to. A hand in his hair pulls him from his descent into a blissful un-presence where he can detach feeling from sound and feel nothing but his own pleasure. A state that he normally craves so much, but not right now, not with Clark. He wants to be fully present for Clark, and for their first time. 

Bruce had shown up only hours prior, on Clark’s doorstep at exactly the agreed-upon time, holding a bottle of wine and an air of normalcy that was largely foreign to both of them. Clark let him taste the pasta he was cooking from a wooden spoon, his other hand coming up close to catch any spillage that might fall so as not to dirty his floor, his eyes sparkling with pleasure for Bruce. A table set simply and for two - one fork, one knife for each plate - sat by Clark's window overlooking the Metropolis skyline and the street below, where children played in the last light of the day. It was a painfully mundane and white-collar date night that Bruce has never had the luxury of experiencing before. It was exhilarating. 

Continue reading on AO3

#superbat #write write #yeah im still working on the parent trap fic i just needed a break from it

[eggplantmaniac420]

The fork, a little hairy-headed fellow with a long neck, the Bart Simpson of eating utensils. Necessary, irreplaceable at the dinner table, but ultimately a bit of a fuckup. He is as like to fruitlessly squash a stray cherry tomato, chasing it around the plate until its ruby juices are smeared across every nook and facet, as he is to gloriously spear the unruly veggie with his tines. He is capable of scooping, but it isn't his primary strength, and I don't recommend relying on him for it. Soups and stews are another obvious weakpoint. In the realm of spaghetti, however, there is no competitor.

The spoon, the belle dame of the bunch: her bebonneted face is smooth, featureless, radiantly concave; a polished mirror that, for want of its own distinguishing allures, reflects back to the beholder's eye its own internal conception of beauty, which, if the anatomy textbooks are to be believed, is housed entirely within a bloodless organ that floats listlessly amidst the goo of the vitreous humor. I offer no comment on her strengths and weaknesses as a dining utensil, which should be obvious to anyone lucky enough to make her acquaintance.

The knife, a dependable scoundrel. Though his manners are rough, and his grizzled countenance out of place in the prim and proper world of fine dining, he is the only one that can be relied upon to get the job done without fail. The fork can be your crutch if the knife doesn't seem worth the time to employ, and he serves well enough when the going is good - as in chocolate cakes, overboiled green beans, delicate filets of sole en papillote dressed in a thyme-tinged brown butter sauce - but, when grandma's dish of well-past well-done porkchops comes, grey and steaming, out of the oven, you'd be hard pressed to find any fork with enough muscle to pass muster (Speaking of which, please pass the mustard). The ropelike fibers of meemaw's hamsteaks can only be parted by the sawing of a sharp-toothed knife, and as much as you'd like to make a meal out of mashed potatoes and creamed corn alone, you'd be disappointing her (A terrible psychosomatic burden on her margarine-besotted heart!) if you didn't at least spend forty five minutes gnawing your way through the gruesomely dissected chunks of half a saltless chop; the other half, however, can be politely scraped into the trash if accompanied by a declaration, seemingly aimed at no one in particular, that you are "completely stuffed".

[koreposion]

A morning

Freshly plant the seeds.

The clinking and clunking of pots and pans fill the morning air as Horror gets ready. Killer has already dragged himself and Dust out of the bed. They all simply wait for Cross and Nightmare to arrive as they always do.

"Dust...Dust wake up." Killer nudges the sleeping form of Dust awake as he holds a book. It's filled with different sudoku puzzles, which sudoku is a thing that Killer is famously bad at.

"Hm?" Dust wakes up, his eyelight glowing pale and white. Messy circles as they drift towards Killer and his empty gaze, "What?"

"Puzzle trouble, love!" Killer says in mocking British accent, "I'm in a spot of trouble and I need your help!"

The joke goes over Dust's head as he simply leans over and gets a look at the puzzle. Letting out a soft noise he picks up a pen and fills in some of the spaces for Killer. Watching him, Killer smiles knowing that it's waking his teammate up. Even if it was hard for the both of them to sleep, it was just as hard to stay awake.

Horror cooks as they two solve the sudoku, making sure to make rice porridge and grits. One will be cooked soft enough for Dust to enjoy and the rest can eat grits. A simple start to breakfast as the one-eyed monster starts cracking eggs.

Soon Nightmare and Cross enter the kitchen, Cross already dressed for the day while Nightmare is dressed in loose sleepwear. Cross pulls out a chair for Nightmare and lets his master sit before he does. Taking his place by Dust and Killer, Cross looks over at the sudoku puzzle.

"It's wrong." He states matter-of-factly as he picks up the pen and corrects the mistake made by the sleepy pair, "You two need to get some food in you and then take a shower."

Nightmare hums in agreement as he pours himself a cup of coffee, he adds in a lot of sugar and too much cream. Though, he takes a sip of it with an air of happiness. The sweet tooth of a bitter god was one to behold.

Horror watched this, saying nothing but placing a bowl of fruit on the table. Cross wass the first one to grab something out of the bowl. A big round orange that he began to peel as Killer and Dust continued with their morning routine.

"A five letter word...for a gathering of justice" Dust spoke, his voice scratchy and deep. He leaned onto Killer, placing his chin on the shoulder of the other, "Court."

Killer looked at Dust and gave him a huge grin, "If it's not that I have no fuckin clue what it'd be." He then wrote it down in the boxes.

"That's because you barely have any words in your brain in the first place." Cross speaks a casual insult and feeds Dust a slice of orange. Dust licks off Cross' fingers as he consumes the fruit.

"You're just too dumb to understand greatness." Killer replies, taking an apple from the bowl and quickly slicing it with unseen magic. He then feeds Dust an apple slice, smiling as the tired skeleton then licks off his fingers.

"Stop feeding Dust." Horror cuts through the conversation as he places a bowl of porridge, eggs, and breakfast sausage in front of Dust, "Eat your fruit yourself, Dust you can have yogurt."

Dust nods as he picks up a spoon and mashed all of his food together. Cross and Killer look off in embarrassment as they eat their own fruits. Realizing that they've irritated Horror with morning banter at the table.

Nightmare smiles as the order is brought to the table by a few simple words. Horror brings the inky mass his food next, placing a plate filled with pancakes and a slab of meat.

Then the rest of the food is brought to the table on plates and in bowls, pancakes, eggs, bacon, sausage, grits, muffins and morning beverages. Cross and Killer make their own plates accordingly and Horror waits for them to finish.

As they both grab their food, Horror is the last to eat as he fills up his plate. He then also hands Dust a cup of yogurt.

"Thank you for the meal." Nightmare says as he cuts into his food with a fork and knife, the contents of his plate covered in syrup.

In turn eveyone thanks Horror, grateful to have him there at the table.

Horror blushes, a ruddy red covering his cheeks as he just hums and stuffs his face.

Just another start to the day.

#thoughts #undertale au #nightmare gang #horrortale sans #killertale sans #crosstale sans #dusttale sans #nightmare sans #Yeah.... #I love them okay?!!!

[ocdelecterble]

ONE POT CREAMY CAJUN SAUSAGE PASTA (Medium Spoons)

Adapted from this recipe to fit my needs. I often use recipes as a guideline to create my own recipe. I adapted this to be my own, but still crediting the inspiration. I definitely prefer the asparagus over mushrooms. Next time, I plan to add shrimp!

The OP claims it’s a 30 minute meal, and I’d like to draw attention to the fact that it took me far longer. Between washing things and prep, and cook time, it took a few hours. That’s the reality of cooking with disabilities and OCD, for those of you that haven’t experienced either.

So for this one, I definitely didn’t use gluten free pasta because I can’t do rice ingredients. I used a bag of tagliatelle that you’d find in the refrigerated pasta section. It cooks faster and uses less cooking liquid, so I adapted for that.

I love mushrooms, but wasn’t feeling mushrooms, and I definitely didn’t have the energy for prepping fresh peppers. Actually, I don’t even buy fresh veggies often because they always rot before I find time/energy to use them up. So the veggies I used were pictsweet grilling blend of peppers, onions, and asparagus. 

I have different steps than most people, probably, in that I wash all the packages of food as well. So rather than bothering with washing a plate and knife to cut the sausages on, once I washed the package, I ripped them apart by hand, since my hands were washed with the package, obviously. Clean hands, clean package. Saved me some time. I didn’t bother taking them out of the pot while the veggies cooked. I literally just browned the sausages, added the veggies until the liquid cooked down, added the tomatoes, pasta, and chicken broth (of which I used less than half of the 32oz container) and cooked the pasta down. Once the pasta was cooked, I added in most of an 8oz tub of whipped cream cheese. It definitely didn’t need more. I had no need to buy cajun seasonings after looking at the ingredients. I opted for some Montreal Chicken seasoning and chipotle powder. Season to taste, obviously. You do you.

I live alone, and cook just for myself, so I ate out of the pot with plastic fork and spoon. Whatever. Less to wash. Less energy wasted.

Ingredients:

1. Johnsonville Jalapeno Cheddar Smoked Sausages, broken/sliced up 2. Pictsweet Farms Veggies for Grilling: Asparagus, Sweet Peppers & Onions 3. 1 Can fire roasted Diced tomato 4. 7oz whipped cream cheese 5. Chicken broth (according to pasta’s need!) 6. Rana Green & Yellow Tagliatelle 7. Chiptle powder (to taste) 8. McCormick Montreal Chicken Seasoning (to taste)

#myrecipe #medium spoons #pasta #dinner #sausage #jalapeno #spicy #lunch #cajun #cajun pasta #asparagus #peppers #one pot pasta

[drifting-pieces-blog-blog]

Going to college?

Welcome to my non- Moon Knight Special Interest. 

That’s right, first aid and safety!! 

You’re talking to someone that willingly takes OSHA training at work, loves the pictograph stickers and used to work for Workers Comp L&I (labor and industries) in the insurance review portion as an admin that made sure that your doctors submitted all the appropriate paperwork to get things approved (spoiler, they don’t). 

@scarabgrant​  has brought it to my attention that people are going to college for the first time! This means all you kids are living away from home in a dorm without proper life training! Been there, my friends. 

So here are some things I learned the hard way about dorm life. Let’s start with the basics. 

FOOD: 

ALWAYS KEEP EASY MEALS IN YOUR ROOM. 

Most dorms provide a microwave area (in which people constantly make burned popcorn and set off the damn fire alarm). 

At my college, cafeteria hours did not work for my sleep schedule and class schedule. Cafeteria was also closed on weekends. I also did not have a mode of transportation and my campus was far away from town. 

Keep a drawer/shelf/trunk with easy to make microwaveable shelf stable meals. Campbell's quick go soups, instant oatmeal, beans (GET A CAN OPENER), chili, and Ramen work wonders. 

Also keep some quick dishes. A bowl, a plate, a fork, a spoon, a knife, and a cup is all you really need. 

That being said, also keep at least $25 cash somewhere in your room or on you. Never know when a card isn’t going to cut it. You should have more, but you are a poor broke college student so we’ll keep this a low number of $25. You can do a lot with that if you are desperate enough. 

Also keep a roll of paper towels. Trust me on this one. When that cup of water hits the floor you don’t want to be throwing your clothes on it in an effort to soak it up. 

You can’t keep a hot plate or cooking device in your room, but there exists a thing called “An electric Kettle”. Check your dorm rules, but it’s something you plug in and push a button and it heats up water. I doubt it’s illegal. You can use this for coffee, tea, ramen, oatmeal, or other instant meals that just require hot water! 

HYGIENE:

 You are suddenly sharing a space with people! People that might have relied on their parents to tell them when they stink. Sounds bad, but most people are so familiar with their own smell that they don’t notice when it is bad until it is VERY bad. 

Deodorant! Keep it. Use it. Keep a little one in the car for those fun days of ‘I spent the knight and now I smell bad’ moments. 

CONSIDER SHOWER SHOES. And clean them. It’s all fun and games till you get athletes foot. 

Showers! I’m going to get controversial here, but again, experiences.  You do not always have to do a full shower. Depression is a thing and so is lack of sleep and bad schedules. Wash your face every chance you get. Splash cold water on your eyes. Sink showers can be a thing. I’ve dunked my head under running water and called it a day way too often back in the day. 

If able, please keep a shower schedule though. 

Wash your clothes any chance you get. Set a timer on your phone. Some asshole is going to go in there the second the buzzer sounds and throw your shit all over the floor. MEASURE THE SOAP. If you aren’t used to doing your own laundry, there is no harm in reading the back of the laundry soap container. Soap builds up a film on your clothes if you put too much in. It’s itchy. 

Wash your bed sheets once a week if able! Check for bed bugs. This is a big issue in dorms!!! 

THOSE OF YOU THAT MENSTRUATE: Keep pads and or tampons on you at all times. Maybe you got your schedule down and know it, but that girl crying in the bathroom outside of chemistry is having a BAD DAY. Keep extra in your room. Never know when you will be stranded on campus and suddenly the store is closed and you forgot that you grabbed the last pad a month ago. 

SHARE THE SPACE: Got a roommate? First time ever sharing a room with someone? Even if you are besties from high school, you need to figure out your schedule and rules. 

Is one of you going to stay up all knight with the lights on while the other one can’t sleep because they need total darkness? Does one of you set an alarm at 6am and hit snooze fifty times while the other one got three hours of sleep and wants to sleep till 10am? Do you need to shower but they’ve been in the shower for the past hour and you are running out of time before class? Are they going to sneak their boyfriend in through the window and risk getting you both expelled out of the all girls form? 

TALK! Figure out schedules and comfort zones. Do not sit there being miserable. 

Got a suitemate situation where two rooms share a bathroom? Keep that access door locked so they can’t come into your room through the bathroom any time they want unless you have given them permission. 

Keep your room at least a little clean. Don’t let things rot in there. Maybe you go out and party every night but your homebody roommate is miserable because you have flowers growing white fuzz in the window and a trash can filled with old food that is going bad. 

TOOLS:  

You are going to want a measuring tape. You’ll know why when you need it. A flat head screwdriver, a philips head screw driver, a hammer, and pliers. If you need them, you’ll be happy you had them. Also you’ll be the cool guy of the friends that is prepared for anything. 

CAR: 

Things to keep in your car. A basic first aid kit. You can buy one of these at the store pretty cheap. Jumper cables! A pack of tissues, hand sanitizer, an extra mask if you are in a covid restriction area, and I recommend a basic overnight bag with a spare pair of underwear, socks, deodorant, tampons/pads if applicable, and a hair brush. It’s all fun till you fall down in a huge ass puddle in the parking lot. Keep the bag in the trunk so no one sees it and tries to break in thinking it’s something else. 

Learn how to change a tire. There are youtube videos! 

Weather appropriate items! Live in rain city? Keep a poncho/umbrella. Live in snow capital? Consider tire chains and de-icer. Out in the desert? Sunblock is your friend. Out in a dangerous area? Pepper spray! 

DO YOU HAVE GLASSES?! KEEP A SMALL GLASSES REPAIR KIT IN THE CAR AND DORM ROOM. Do not be the sad child that lost a screw and is now going to glass for the next three months with their only means of vision taped to their face. 

Do you need contacts? Keep extra. Don’t go to class blind.

Are you or your roommate handicapped? Make sure your campus is accessible to you! There are some old campuses out there that were made way before handicapped people were considered real people. And some of those campuses, unfortunately, still look down their noses at them. Do not just roll over and decide you won’t be taking that class because there is a flight of stairs in the way. You make sure they know you are taking that class and it is the schools job to make it accessible for you. They can move that class to a different building. I’ve seen it done. It can happen. 

Need special print? Make sure your professors know what you need. If they refuse, then there are other professors out there teaching the same subject. Or you can go talk to the school board about how they are breaking the law. 

Now let’s talk medical! 

Do you have a health condition? Do you need to be wearing a med alert bracelet? Make sure that shit is visible! Make sure your friends, professors, and dorm leader knows about it! You do not want to be passed out while someone fumbles with an epi pen and ends up stabbing themselves. EDUCADE THEM! Tell them what they need to know to keep you alive! 

Do you have a serious allergy? Are you prone to seizures? Do you have a heart condition? Educate anyone that is going to be spending time around you. TELL YOUR ROOMMATE. If they wake up to find you seizing on the floor, don’t let them be the idiot that is trying to pry open your mouth to keep you from swallowing you tongue like they do in movies. 

SEIZURES: Odds are high someone on campus is going to have one. DO NOT TRY TO PRY OPEN THEIR MOUTH. YOU WILL LOSE A FINGER. 

If someone is actively seizing, your job is to make sure they are in a safe place. Get them out of the road. Make sure they don’t hit their head on anything. Put a shirt or something soft under their head. Call for help. Check for any medical alert tags, watches, or bracelets. Any information you can give the 911 operator is gold. Even if they already know they have seizures and are on medications, breakthrough seizures can be serious and may mean their medication isn’t working right. 

BANDAIDS: I keep latex free bandaids on me. Latex allergies are a hell of a thing (I have them!). Keep bandaids in all sizes and shapes. You can also consider surgical first aid skin glue, but this is not a solution for everything and can also sting like a biiiitch. Glue is useful in areas that a bandaid can’t quite get to and if you are doing something that requires a lot of hand washing or where bandaids might cause a hazard (fire). GLUE IS FLAMMABLE. KEEP THAT IN MIND YOU FUTURE CHEMISTS. (Surgeons use glue at work when they have cuts on their fingers). 

Bandaids are not always good enough. 

Keep a pack of the following in your kits!: 

Telfa pads. These are sterile absorbent smooth pads. You can apply triple antibiotic ointment to them (neosporin) and place them over any larger scrapes. It will keep them clean and absorb the blood. 

GAUZE WRAP. Comes in rolls. When using this on limbs/fingers you want to start on the telfa pad to hold it in place. Then wrap up or down. You want to overlap the previous layer by 50% with each round you make. DO NOT GO TOO TIGHT. Just a gentle firmness is all you need. It is designed to cling to itself. When done, ripp the end and smooth it over the previous layer. It will stick. 

COHESIVE BANDAGE. Comes in fun colors! This stuff is vaguely sticky, VERY stretchy, and will hold anything in place. The biggest thing to remember about this stuff is that the stretch sinches! You can and probably will pull it too tight and after you place it, it will retract on itself and cut off circulation! 

The proper way to apply this bandage is to unroll what you think you need. This releases the stretch. Then gently and loosely wrap it back up on the roll. Apply over the gauze wrap without stretching it out again. When done, cut it and lay it flat. Keep the 50% rule just like with the gauze. 

TAPE: Bandage tape. This can be placed over the ends of the cohesive wrap and will hold it in place. Can also be used to make your own bandaid! Wad up some gauze or fold up a telfa and use the tape to hold it in place! Do not cut off circulation! 

BANDAGE SCISSORS: These are a sort of safety scissor we use in the medical field. You can slide the flat end under clothes or bandages against the skin and cut things away from problem areas. They use these in ambulances. 

70% Isopropyl Alcohol! It will hurt. It will help. 

Peroxide: I don’t know what they use this for in the human field. It turns white because it’s damaging off the damaged tissue. That’s why it bubbles. Dead tissue turns white and bubbles. Also not great near eyes/ears/face… What is it good for? It is a quick way to get small amounts of blood off of things. Clothes, surfaces, hair…. As long as it doesn’t set in or become old, it will get it off! I’m sure it also disinfects wounds too. But not like Alcohol does! ;) 

Remember when placing a bandage, if your limb is numb, it’s too tight! If you have immediate strike-through (bleeds through the bandage) you may need stitches! This isn’t a good thing if it bleeds through. 

DO NOT TOURNIQUET. You are not in a medical movie. You will kill the limb and cause an amputation to be needed. Don’t do it. The ONLY time you should tourniquet is if a medical professional TELLS you to. I’m not even going to tell you how to do it because I can’t stress this enough. You place a tourniquet only if the other option is death. 

PRESSURE. Just put pressure. Fold up a shirt, jacket, something, and lay it over the wound then use the heel of both your hands to apply firm and even pressure to an area if needed. 

Alcohol prep pads: Little godsavers. 

GLOVES. Latex free gloves! DO NOT TOUCH BLOOD BARE HANDED UNLESS YOU ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO. Put a box in your car and put a box in your room.

EYE FLUSH. Keep eye drops or sterile eye flush. DO NOT USE VISINE. Visine shrinks blood vessels (it’s how they get rid of red eye. Makes it smaller) and causes them to get more irritated. This makes more red-eye. Then you need more visine to get rid of that red eye. It’s a vicious cycle. 

Medication!

Got allergies? Benadryl! Don’t got allergies? STILL KEEP BENADRYL. Doesn’t have to be Benadryl. Medication is “Diphenhydramine”. Super cheap if you get off label. It is an antihistamine that helps with insect stings, allergic reactions to plants, animals, or something causing you irritation. If you are experiencing something the benadryl is not helping, you may need doctor intervention. 

Pain medication!: Tylenol and Ibuprofen both live in my kit. Why? Because one of those is not good for people with heart conditions! Some people can only take Tylenol. In fact, keep some aspirin in there too! Your friends will thank you for having options! 

Are you prone to bad flu or colds? Keep a medication you know helps you. If you like it, keep nyquil and dayquil. Not everyone can take this stuff. 

Stomach meds! Tums are always good to keep. Or Peptobismol, Pepcid, Famotadine. Know what medication works for YOU when your stomach goes south. Imodium is also good to keep in a first aid kid. Useful when the diarrhea hits and you need it to stop. DO NOT RELY ON IT. If you need to take Imodium for longer than a couple of days (I’ll give you three days), you are having a problem and may need to see a doctor. 

PEDIALYTE. This may sound weird, but your drunk college friend is going to need this. You might be the drunk college friend. Vomiting or shitting yourself? Pedialyte will keep you from the worst of dehydration or hangover. 

All in all: If you know there is a medication you often are turning to in regular life or in times of need, keep extra with you in your dorm! 

If you are on a prescription medication, keep it in a safe place. Get a pill timer app if you need to or a pill organizer. Make sure you’ve had your annual exam so if you need to go to a random pharmacy to get an emergency refill there shouldn’t be an issue transferring it over or refilling it. Know what things may interact badly with your medications. (grapefruit, asprin, charcoal...) 

FIRE! FIRE!

Know where the nearest fire extinguisher is. You can even keep a fire blanket in your car and/or dorm. They pack down real small.

Know HOW to use the fire extinguisher. There are pictures on the can. Give them a glance now and then. 

Defibrillators! They are required in most major buildings. Know if your building has one and where it is. Know how to use it! If anything, 911 will tell you how. But they can’t help you if you don’t know where it is. 

CPR: UPDATE. Breathing is less important than compression!!!!!! Do not stop compressing unless they revive or a medical professional tells you! If the heart is not going, the lungs do not matter. KEEP COUNT. It is hard business and when the ambulance arrives, they need to know how long you have been going. GO DEEP. I would rather have a broken rib than be dead. Ribs are fixable. Death is not. Sing the song if you need to! 

Bee Gees Staying alive is the correct rhythm. 

Consider taking a class on CPR and first aid and staying certified! You won’t regret it when you need it. Some colleges offer classes for free! Your nearest fire station may also offer classes! 

LEARN THE HEIMLICH. Remember, if they are talking or laughing they can still breathe. If they stop making sounds, There is NO air getting by. Ask clearly “Do you need help?” If they nod or are clutching at their throat, consider this a pretty good permission. 

LEARN HOW TO EPI PEN! Watch a youtube video. 

JUST BECAUSE YOU USED THE PEN DOESN’T MEAN THEY ARE FINE. The epi pen has bought them time. Now they need to get to a hospital/doctor so they can continue to get help getting the allergen out of their system. 

You are out in a new world of new things. There’s a good chance you might suddenly find out you have a new food allergy or allergy in general. Listen to your body. Take note of unusual reactions like itchy tongue, itchy throat, swollen face or numb lips. 

OKAY. Here’s a rough topic. 

Suicide. Self harm. Depression. You are away from home, you are away from family, support groups, friends. You may be failing class, struggling with being alone. Struggling with romance. It doesn’t matter the reason. Learn to recognize signs of depression in yourself and in others. Reach out to people struggling. Make a friend. Leave them a note asking if they are okay. Do something nice for someone random. One good thing in a sea of sadness can give them a light to cling to. 

Recognize signs of suicide. Giving away items. Telling people strange things like ‘you were always a good friend’. Odd behavior. Reach out. Tell a professor or councelor or dorm mother or someone. Make sure they are given help. 

Abuse. Watch for signs of domestic abuse. People are getting into their first serious relationships. Bruises, overly clingy, ‘protective’, demanding, controlling… Don’t let your friends fall into this pattern of abuse. Some college romances turn into lifetime nightmares. 

THAT’S IT. All I can think of off the top of my head without getting into my own personal stuff…Or rambling on and on. 

But if you have any questions or comments, please feel free to reach out! My ask box is ALWAYS open and so are my DMs! 

Stay safe everyone and make sure your college experience is a good learning lesson! 

#Life topics #College life #First aid #Dorm tips #Not MK related #Special interest to me #I fucking love safety #I was always the mom of the friendship group #Hope this helped someone