#she's handling his chicken fry

[drawlypsy]

Sometimes you just crave a hamburger. Sometimes you crave ass. Either way, Lumine will tell you how you like it and you'll thank her for it.

Chilumi FTW <3 Inspired by the wonderful Tartaglisluts of PP. Love you, @chickenparm

UNCENSORED VERSION ON MY PATREON HERE

#chilumi #childe #lumine #he's having a double whopper #she's handling his chicken fry #kurger bing #the shit my friends make me draw istg I love them so much #PP degens on blast #genshin impact

[tobesolonely]

Y/N and Harry are expecting a baby, and they’re both very impatient.

happy 5k to meee! when I made this account at the height of the pandemic in 2020 to pass the time i would’ve never thought i would’ve made the friends i have or gotten so much support with my writing!! thank you besties! i hope you enjoy! 

warnings: smut

please buy me a coffee to celebrate! :D

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“I just don't think we need three different kinds of bottle warmers, love.” 

Y/N looks at her husband looking down at the half-full cart that’s now one bottle warmer fuller. According to every baby blog and “new mom” website she scoured, bottle warmers were a must-have. However, there was no general consensus on the best one. Y/N didn't really see any other option but to try a ton. (Besides, it's not like he couldn’t afford it.)

“Then tell me which one’s the best.” 

Harry's eyebrows wrinkle in confusion. “How would I know which bottle warmer is the best?” 

“How would I know?” 

He opens his mouth to quip back but can't think of anything to say because once again she's right. How would she know?

“Ok, darling,” he resumes pushing the cart through the aisle with a defeated sigh. “You're right.”

A credit card swipe and a short 15-minute car ride later they’re home, depositing all their recent purchases in the half-complete nursery. It was nearly stuffed to the brim with clothes and instructions for toys Harry began assembling but never completed and baby wipes and strollers and now, three different types of bottle warmers that it was a little overwhelming. The good kind, though. 

By the time they finish that, they’re knackered, sprawled out on the couch with the tv playing lowly in the background.

“How does stir fry sound for dinner?” Harry absentmindedly traces over her plush thighs with the pads of his fingers while he seeks her approval. “I don’t think those bell peppers in the fridge have got much longer.”

“Mmm, sounds good,” she cranes her neck up to look at him, not wanting to leave her position on his chest. “Not too spicy, please. I can’t handle it right now.”

“I know, love.”

Y/N knows Harry knows, but she still reminds him anyway. He gently helps her up and guides her to the kitchen, lifting her up on the counter so she could cut up the vegetables while he stood at the stove and cooked the chicken. He’s about to sprinkle a generous amount of red pepper flakes atop the chicken when he remembers her polite request that he doesn't make it too spicy and he sets it down, deciding he’ll add it to his own portion separately.

“I think these are all chopped up.” 

Harry hums and walks over to where Y/N is positioned on the counter to inspect her handy work. Most everything she knows in the kitchen she learned from Harry, and he definitely still teases her about her skills with a knife. At least she tries! 

While the look on Harry’s face tells her he thinks her chopping skills look like that of a ten-year-old, all he says is, “Looks great, darling! You’re so helpful.” (The pregnancy has made Y/N more sensitive than usual and Harry knows she's liable to cry over the tiniest things so he’s been extra sweet to her)

With the chicken now simmering on low, Harry adds the vegetables to the dish and adds a bit of water to help soften it faster, making sure to add a generous amount of seasoning. Y/N appreciated this because she wasn't the biggest fan of vegetables (especially peas and broccoli, which Harry coincidentally loved) so whatever he did to make them even the tiniest bit tastier was helpful.

Twenty minutes later they're enjoying dinner, bowls filled with heaping piles of steaming rice and chicken-veggie stir-fry. Harry stands in between Y/N's legs while she’s sitting on the counter (occasionally giving her bites of his food even though they’re eating the exact same thing).

“Who taught you how to be such a good cook?” Y/N randomly questions in between a mouthful of food. She knows the answer is Anne, but she just likes stroking Harry’s ego sometimes.

“My mum,” he answers. “And lots of practice. I could teach you…”

“I’d rather not.” 

Harry chuckles at his wife’s hatred for cooking. “Luckily for you, it brings me great pleasure to cook for beautiful women,” Y/N narrows her eyes at him, “I mean you. My beautiful woman. Don't give me that look.”

“Are you gonna make baby food from scratch, too?”

Harry raises his eyebrows in consideration, pressing a quick kiss to the tip of Y/N’s nose. “There’s a thought… hadn’t even thought about that. I can do that.”

“I mean, you did say you love cooking for beautiful women.”

“I do,” Harry smiles at his wife for a few moments before the look on his face changes to one of accusation. “Are you trying to tell me something? Did you look?”

“Okay listen, I may have taken a tiny peek at the monitor when we were at the check-up on Tuesday…”

“Y/N!”

“I couldn’t help myself, Harry! I don’t know how you haven’t been going crazy over it,” she absentmindedly rests her hand on her stomach. “If I didn’t know I’d probably be so annoying right now.”

“That’s true. I’m sure you would be.”

Y/N playfully reprimands Harry by swatting his bicep. “You love how annoying I am. It’s why you married me. You said it in your vows, remember? There’s no going back now.”

Harry kisses the side of Y/N’s neck, then travels up to the sweet spot right below her ear before moving to the apples of her cheeks and then finally, her soft lips. “I wouldn’t dream of going back on it. Tell me more about this baby girl we’re having, since you like to ruin surprises.”

“I can’t help my wandering eyes!”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Harry responds sarcastically. “Are we telling people?”

“I think it’ll be fun if we kept it our little secret,” she reaches up to play with the curls at the nape of Harry’s neck. “Maybe we’ll tell your mum and mine. We’ll see.”

“You’re right,” his hand travels up the back of Y/N's shirt. She shivers at the feeling of his cool rings against her warm back, “Instagram post instead?”

“Harry!”

“I’m joking, love!”

“Help me down from here. My butt’s numb.”

“Have you been thinking of names while you’ve gone all this time knowing without me?” Harry easily lifts her off the counter, not removing his hands from her waist even once she’s steady on her feet.

“H, it’s only been two days.” 

“Two days longer than I’ve known,” he bends down just enough to ghost his lips over yours. “Come sit on my lap. Let’s brainstorm.”

Harry gently guides her toward the direction of the living room, plopping down first on the couch so he could pull her into his lap. There was no other place Harry preferred Y/N to be than in his lap whenever he was around her. 

“Are you upset that I peeked when we were supposed to wait?”

His eyes soften. “Of course ‘m not mad. I guess since we’re being honest I may as well admit that I took a peek, too.”

“Harry! Why were you gonna let me think I was the only impatient one?”

“You’re just easy to mess with,” he pulls her flush against his body. “I was gonna see how long I could keep it up, but I can’t do it anymore. I feel too bad.”

“When did you peek?”

“Right after you did.”

Y/N lets out a dramatic gasp, cheeks heating up in embarrassment. “You saw me? I thought I was being sneaky!”

“I’m sorry to say you’re not as sneaky as you think you are,” he fiddles with the strap of her tank top, pushing it down her arm slowly. “I admire the effort though - it’s very cute, love.”

“Thank you,” Y/N cocks her head to the side. “Are you happy? That we’re having a girl?”

“Y/N, I’m so happy that I don’t think I can properly put into words how I’m feeling,” his hands travel along her back. “I’m even happier I’m having a baby with you. I don’t care about anything but having a healthy baby with you.”

“H, you’re gonna make me cry,” Y/N says dramatically, a small pout on her chapped lips. “You’re very cheesy - I love you so much. How did I get so lucky?”

“Would you believe me if I said I asked myself that same question every day when I wake up beside you?” Harry taps her on her side. “C’mon, up you go.”

Y/N lets out a little groan. “Why? I just got comfortable. Your lap is the best seat in the house.”

“Wanna show you how much I love you and how happy I am that you’re giving me a baby girl,” Y/N’s eyes widen as she scrambles off her husbands lap and onto the empty space beside him, legs folding beneath her. “Can I have a taste?”

“I thought we were discussing baby names?” Y/N jokes.

“I think we should do this first,” Harry drops to his knees, “Turn around f’me, darling- on your knees- yeah, just like that,” and immediately attaches his mouth to her clit, giving a firm suck. He quickly moves to her slit and licks up it, collecting her wetness on his tongue. Y/N can tell by his quick pace and sloppy licks that he's feeling plain desperate, and she momentarily wonders to herself how long he's been in this type of mood. 

Almost as if he's read her mind, Harry pulls back and says, “Been wanting to get in between these pretty thighs since we were comparing all those bloody bottle warmers at the store…” before diving back in. She turns to watch as he pokes and prods at her holes with the tip of his tongue, working faster the heavier she begins to breathe. His palm rests on her ass cheek, which also aids in keeping her spread open for him. Harry places three pecks on her clit before removing his mouth from her core just long enough to turn her around so her bottom was on the couch instead.

Harry hooks his right arm under Y/N’s left leg and throws it over his shoulder, using two fingers to rub over her clit. He lowers his head back down and attaches his lips to her bud again, looking up through his lashes at her. Y/N uses her shoulders to support her body weight, using one hand to lift her tank top and tweak her nipples while the other tangles in Harry’s curls. His tongue flicks back and forth over her clit as he locks eyes with her before sticking his middle finger in his mouth and inserting it in her heat.

“Harry, I love you,” Y/N tells her husband breathlessly, voice filled with lust. “I love you so much. I’m so- oh!” 

She lets out a sharp gasp once Harry adds two more fingers in one swift push, easily accommodating to fit his digits. His fingers burn in the best way possible, and she can’t wait to feel his cock. The whole time Harry’s fingering Y/N he’s giving her sweet praises–telling her she always opens up so well for him, that she get so fucking wet, that she tastes sweeter and better than the finest desserts. It’s nearly too much.

“I can’t put into words how much I love you,” Harry whispers as he relentlessly curls his three fingers up over and over again to stimulate that spongy spot deep inside of her. “I want you to cum for me, my love. Cum for me so I can get inside you, hm? Can you do that for me?”

Y/N’s mouth falls open in a silent scream as she releases all over Harry’s fingers, clenching so tightly around him that he has to tell her to relax so he can comfortably pull them out. 

“S’fuckin’ tight…” he mutters moreso to himself, pulling his joggers and boxers down to his ankles in one swift go. “All mine?”

“All yours,” she responds so quickly she nearly sounds pathetic. “Please, H. Just give it to me please-”

Harry pushes Y/N up and back onto the couch so her back is against the armrest. “Comfortable?”

Y/N’s heart swells a tiny bit at her husbands concern for her comfort even when he was having her in such a filthy state. “Very. Please fuck me.”

Harry slips himself inside Y/N’s warm heat, letting out a quiet groan of relief at the feeling. Y/N whimpers and locks her legs around Harry and he takes that as his cue to move. He slides out nearly all the way before slamming his hips back inside her, grunting loudy in pleasure.

“That’s a good girl…just take it, darling,” he snaps his hips quickly into her, skin slapping against skin. “Lay there and take it like a good girl…My good girl…”

Tiny moans esacpe Y/N’s mouth and she doesn’t try to suppress them in the slightest, wanting her husband to hear how good he was making her feel. He always made her feel good, always put her pleasure first.

“My clit, p-please,” Y/N stutters out, reaching for Harry’s hand so she can place it at her core. Harry places his hand at her core and begins rubbing in hard, tight circles, knowing exactly how to stroke Y/N to bring her to her release.

“Tell me how good it feels.”

“So, so good. Gonna cum, H,” Y/N moans, bucking her hips up so they meet Harry’s. “Don’t stop H, please don’t stop!”

“Yeah? You’re there, angel?” his thrusts become impossibly faster. “Me too, baby. You first. Cum for me, Y/N.”

Y/N orgasms for the second time that night, waves of pleasure washing over her body that satisfy her in the best way possible. Harry’s not far behind her - his hips stutter to a stop before he lays his weight on top of her and cums, being mindful not to lay directly atop her bump.

The couple lay in silence for what feels like ages, basking in the afterglow of their sex and orgasms. Harry places a chaste kiss to the top of Y/N’s head before gently untangling himself from her, already thinking about which bath bomb he wanted to use when he went upstairs to run her a bath in a moment. 

“So, about those baby names…”

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Please let me know what you think! and please buy me a coffee to celebrate! :D

#harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfiction #harry concept #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n

[melishatweedy]

MISTAH TWEEDEH!: A life he wished for but didn’t get:

Willard Tweedy, a simple man, a farm, a wife, a brew and a shotgun.

Little is really said in the books about his life. However his family have been chicken farmers for generations - as we see in the film and the books - and he wants to continue egg farming, it’s all he’s ever known. We see in Mrs Tweedy’s Chicken Pies for the Soul that his uncle was killed by a chicken, which is his first glimpse of knowing the chickens are more than just “stupid creatures”. I feel like this is his only real “smart” moment. He built a fucking pie machine and didn’t know what it was. Like mate.. name’s on the boxes surely..

He’s clearly in love with Melisha, we see it in their wedding photo, the way he speaks to her, the way he questions his own sanity for her. Man’s devoted and I don’t blame him lol. There’s the slight emotional abuse with the name calling, but I absolutely hate it when they say she’s physically abusive etc.. She’s not. Yes she kicked his arse but she’s not physically abusive. Also, there’s hints that there’s still that spark between them, and I stand by my point that they were in love at one point, and they married for love (and a business prospect). (I also love the theory of the him being her beard.)

He’s clearly the comic relief of the first film, similar to Dr Fry in the second. However he’s not just the poor little abused husband people make him out to be. He’s in fact worse than Melisha to the chickens. You see him kicking and throwing ginger into “solitary confinement”, which in the real world a chicken would last mear hours -if that- before dying. He also picks them up by the neck, whereas we see Melisha (apart from handling Edwina, but she was about to be killed) picking them up by their bodies (CR:DOTN). No wonder they’re not laying eggs, they’re being handled in such ways! ALSO HE PUT A LIVE CHICKEN IN THE PIE MACHINE BOY I SWEAR TO GOD-

Anyway, my conclusion: he comes from a poor background, a farmers background and that’s all he knows, it’s all he’s ever known. He’s just as bad as Melisha when it comes to the chickens. He’s most likely seen how his father and grandfather treated the chickens and carried it on. Learnt behaviour. They’re both as bad as each other but he’s maaainly the reason the chickens aren’t laying any eggs. My theory is that after their divorce he remained in Yorkshire but moved away, has a little flat and is a farmhand on another farm, as it’s probably all he has experience wise. Hope your little flat is cosy, king!

#I do really love this character I promise #i really enjoyed studying him !! go king #i just hate to see people baby him #he’s a grown clay man #i don’t baby melisha she can be an evil cow #mrs tweedy #chicken run #melisha tweedy #chicken run: dawn of the nugget #mr tweedy #willard tweedy #emma’s chicken run degree

[didyoutrydynamite]

Getting Heated

Jaune: *Stuck in bed with fever, waiting for Reese to come back with some food from the cafeteria* Ughhhh. Being sick always sucks...

Reese: *Unlocks the dorm’s door and walks in without any food but an unusually serious look on her face*

Jaune: *Coughs a little* Hey, Reese... Where’s the food?

Reese: *Shakes her head* That’s not important right now. *Sits on the side of his bed next to him, a slight tint to her cheeks* Jaune... I need you.

Jaune: (Whoa, what’s this about?) *Coughs* O-Of course. What do you need me to do?

Reese: *Without saying a word, she cups the side of his face and leans down, pursing her lips-*

Jaune: W-WOAH! *Scrambles up with his back pressed up to his headrest* R-REESE?! W-hat are you doing?! 

Reese: *Crawls into bed after him, cheeks flushed* I can’t handle it anymore! Spending all this time together, being so close. *Straddles his waist in bed* So, why haven’t we done anything yet~?

Jaune: *Goes beet red* B-Because we’re teammates! I-I-I didn’t think-

Reese: I can’t settle for just being your teammate, Jaune. I want us to be more. *Slowly unzips her purple hoodie and let’s it slink off her shoulders* Way more~. ❤

Jaune: *Gulp!* (WHAT IS HAPPENING!? Is this another one of her pranks?! No, no way she can act this good. Am I having a fever dream? Did Reese catch my fever and gone delusional?!)

Reese: *Places her hands on his chest and looks him in directly in the eyes* Do... do you not want me?

Jaune: *Brain starts frying and heart starts beating really fast.* I-uh-I-I-uhhh-I-uh...

Mercury: BWHAHAHAHAHAAH!

Jaune: H-Huh?! *Looks over to Mercury who has apparently been standing there the whole time*

Mercury: *Holding up his Scroll, recording Jaune in bed* Ha-hahah! Oh com’on Blondie! Don’t leave her hanging! 

Jaune: *Looks towards Reese* W-What??

Reese: *Smirks then slowly dissipates into the form of-*

Jaune: *Seething* EMERALD!?

Emerald: *Chuckles* Don’t have a heart attack on me now. Too much excitement can make a fever worse! *Hops off Jaune’s lap and high fives Mercury*

Jaune: What are you two doing here!? How did you even get into the room?!

Emerald: Reese gave us a spare. She’s was called off to Cordovin’s office again for another lecture while she was getting your food, so she gave us $20 bucks to deliver it for her.

Mercury: *Hands Jaune a to-go bowl of chicken noodle soup* Here ya go!

Jaune: And that a whole illusion and you filming it?!

Emerald: Consider that delivery fee and tip. *Wink*

Mercury: *Shakes his Scroll* And we’ll probably just black-mail you with this when we think of something we actually want later. Well, I’m good to go. See ya Blondie!

Emerald: Becareful with the soup, it’s extra hot and steamy just for you~ *Chuckles*

Jaune: *Places soup down and collapses into bed as he rubs the temples of his forehead* And now the image of Reese giving me “I want you eyes” is now forever seared into my brain.  

~O~O~O~O~O~

The next day in WISD Dorm...

Emerald: *Cough Cough* Dumb Blondie and his dumb diseases.

Mercury: *Cough Cough* Heh-heh. Wouldn’t be the first disease you caught in bed. Ughhhh I feel like I’m dying...

Emerald: *Chucks pillow at Mercury* THEN GO DIE IN YOUR OWN DORM! ASSHOLE!

#jnrz au #jaune arc #reese chloris #emerald sustrai #mercury black

[ordonianhero]

Country fried comfort

Notes: i wrote this for my friend as a comfort post. So here you go @cannibalgremlin

Sky was sitting out by the cuccoo pen. Playing somber tune on his harp. Twilight who had been walking by carrying sacks of feed for the animals of Lon Lon ranch. Paused and listen. He looked at his fellow brother’s face. Somber it self. Staring out in a sad way. Rancher made his way to the barn and placed the three bags of feed down. He watched at several other members of the chain were working in the barn. Four was helping make new horse shoes. While War and Legend worked on shuffling down new hay. After the stalls had been mucked. The rancher walked over to a bucket and washed his hands and face off.

“Think i shall head inside for a bit. Thinking to tell wild to make something.” He explained as he left. Waving the others in the barn off.

Once inside the house, he went quickly to the wash room to clean up and then change into fresher clothing. Putting on his Ordon garb while place his dirty clothing into a wash pile. Extend the room and headed to the kitchen where wild was busy working some bread dough out, while Malon was husking some corn. He cleared his through, making them both look at him. He softly smiled and walked in and rolled up his sleeves. Malon was questioning what her blood was going to do. Wild smiled, glad to have an extra hand in the kitchen.

“Sky is looking tad gloomy. He been playing a somber tune to the cuccoos. Half worried they may die on us with how sad the tune is. I am thinking maybe making a bit of comfort food. Country specialty.” He explained with a smile.

“What you have in mind?” Asked Malon. Stopping what she was doing.

He walked over and took an unhusked corn and started helping with peeling the husk away. “Fried cuccoo mash bowl. If you got potato’s, we can make a mash. Chop the corn off its stem, fry cucoo, put them together with some gravy…creating a fried cuccoo bowl. Can’t go wrong with that?” He explained.

Malon beamed with happiness. As did the champion.

“That kind of you. So what should we do?’ Asked the youth. As he folded the bread dough one more time before resting it.

“Hm, how bout you do the mashed potato, Mrs. Lon-“

“Just call me mal. Or ma’ if you want.” She interrupted.

“Okay ma’ you take care of the corn, and i will handle the fried cuccoo and gravy.” He replied to her.

She smile and nodded. Wild stood for a bit. “You know how to cook?” He asked the rancher.

Twilight smirked and having some stuff to start making the fried cuccoo and smirks.

“You bet your goddesses I do. I live alone, lui taught me the basics, ilia helped as well. But i know how to cook food. Nit as good as you. But decent enough.” He explained.

————————

The three worked hard in the kitchen. Working on the meal. Rancher was making sure the meal was well seasoned. Nothing is more disappointing than an unseasoned meal. Wild would help with a few things and helping Taste things, along with Malon, giving suggestions when needed. The house smelt heavenly as the spices and such floated through the room. Malon after finishing with the corn, started making sweet tea for everyone. The three laughing and giggling in the kitchen. Homey.

Wild went about setting the table with glasses and utensils. As Twilight started making the bowls of food. Adding equal amounts of mashed potato’s, corn, and fried chicken for everyone plate. Then drizzling gravy over it. Malon helped put the bowls on the table. She then made here way to front door to ring the lads in for lunch. As they approached she order them all to wash up before thinking to eat all filthy as hey were. That including her husband who attempted to get a hug from her. However got shooed off.

Once everyone had cleaned up. They all sat at the table. Sky eyes the bowl in front of him. The smell of it danced under his nose. He looked up and Rancher smiled at him. “Enjoy.”

“Wait? You cooked this?” Asked the Veteran.

“You sure tootin he did. With a little help from Champ and I.” Malon replied with a smile.

“No way? He cooks and didn’t burn anything?” Chuckled the captain about to dig in.

“Actually, he can be a replacement if i get injured. He knows his stuff.” Piped up wild.

“At least that one other Link that can cook.” Chuckled Malon.

Sky dipped his fork into the dish. Scooping up every bit. Before sticking it into his mouth. It was an explosion of flavor and it caused his to tear up a bit. Wind noticed and stopped mid bite.

“You okay?’ Ask the young sailor.

The sky loft Ian nodded and smiled. “It like home.”

The rancher smiled and took his first bite, pleased he was able to bring some joy to the somber mood the youth had been in earlier.

“It’s comfort.” He replied to sky.

“Thank you.” Replied sky.

-fin

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu malon #lu sky #lu twilight #linked universe fanfic #content creator #ordonian writes

[birgittesilverbae]

dads: libby's first breakup oh the teenage angst

"Hey, MJ," Mary says, leaning out into the garage. "Your dad just called wondering if you'd stopped by." 

Libby pushes her helmet up onto her forehead and takes a swig of water from the bottle resting on top of the net before responding. "What'd you tell her?"

"That you're here talking shop with Shan."

"Talking so much shop," Shannon agrees, flipping the puck up onto her stick blade and pulling it back and forth through the air in front of her with increasing speed. "All shop, all the time. Right, Libs?"

Mary rolls her eyes but can't keep her fond grin off her face. "Do you wanna have a chat about why you're actually here," she continues, turning her attention back to Libby, "or should we keep pretending you haven't been crying?"

Libby's shoulders sag. "You're not gonna let me choose the second option, are you?"

"If you wanted emotionally-stunted, you should've gone home. Come help me with dinner."

"Fine." Libby nods sullenly. "Fine. Thanks for shooting on me, Shan, and for the talk. I'll be in once I've got my pads off."

"Don't take too long," Mary cautions, and heads back into the kitchen. 

Shannon joins her a few minutes later, when she's got ingredients arrayed on the counter. She hugs Mary from behind, hooks her chin over her shoulder, kisses her cheek. "Be gentle with her," she says as Mary leans into her touch.

"I'm always gentle."

"I know, babe, but on this especially. She's very Bea in how she's going about it."

Mary clicks her tongue. "If that isn't the most concerning thing I've heard tonight. You sure you don't want to handle this?"

Mary can feel the stretch of Shannon's grin against her cheek. "The little shit told me I was, and I quote, 'probably too gay to be able to give helpful advice'."

Mary nods her understanding. "So it is boy trouble. Lily didn't seem sure. She was mainly just concerned MJ hadn't checked in with them all afternoon."

"You're not gonna defend my honour?"

"Was she wrong?"

Shannon pokes her hard in the side. "You know she wasn't."

"If it makes you feel any better, she said something similar to Bea that time she got in a fight with Kumquat."

"Caleb," Shannon corrects with a long-suffering sigh. "Honestly, you're all going to give that kid an identity crisis one of these days."

"Was it him?"

"No, no, no no no. She was clear on that, at least. But I know she's been hanging around with a couple of the guys on the boys' high school squad lately."

"The ones you've spent the past month bitching about?"

"The ones I wouldn't have a problem with if they didn't exemplify everything that's wrong with hockey culture."

"Ah." Mary's jaw goes tight. "Right. That's– I can see why she didn't go to those three for this talk."

Shannon hums her agreement. "I don't imagine there'd be a rational response in sight. And if this involves who I think it might, I don't know that I'll be able to respond appropriately."

"So it's up to me."

"So it's up to you." The door to the garage is flung open, loudly enough to be heard across the house, and Shannon flinches. "Thank you, darling. I'll get out of your hair." She kisses Mary's cheek and heads for the hallway.

Libby slumps into the kitchen in the wake of Shannon's departure, dropping onto a stool at the counter island with a heavy sigh. "What're we making?"

"Just a stir fry and rice, a side salad. Lots of chopping for you." Mary pushes the cutting board and chef's knife across the countertop to her, watches the stranglehold grip Libby puts on the knife handle. "Don't go stabbing the carrots."

Libby grumbles something under her breath, not quite loud enough for Mary to make out, but she loosens her grip enough that the colour flows back into her knuckles and aligns a head of broccoli on the cutting board. 

Mary sets up opposite her, hands making quick work of a row of chicken breasts while her eyes linger on Libby. "What's his name?" she asks after a few minutes of quiet chopping. "The boy?"

Libby's knife freezes in the middle of pushing florets to one side of the cutting board. "Carter," she replies, not meeting Mary's gaze. "I don't want to talk about him."

"Why not?"

Libby shrugs. "Because it's embarrassing? Because I was too stupid to see it coming?" She lays her knife down and scrubs at her eyes with the back of her hand. 

"What'd he do, MJ?" Mary pivots to the sink to scrub her hands clean. 

"Nothing. Everything. I don't know." She shrugs helplessly. "I just– He said I was too smart for my own good, and didn't tell him anything, and–" her words disintegrate into low sobs that slowly climb in volume. 

Mary wipes her hands on the kitchen towel slung over her shoulder and circles the island. "C'mere, I got you."

"Everything sucks," she sobs into Mary's shoulder. 

Mary rubs her back, makes soothing sounds. "Yeah, that about covers it."

"I think I was in love with him, and he just–" Her hands clutch at the back of Mary's shirt. "He just–"

Mary huffs out a laugh. "No, you weren't." 

Libby pulls back, rubs a sleeve under her nose. "You don't know that," she says, voice pitching higher in anger.

"Hormones, MJ. God help you." 

 "It's real, I'm allowed to feel like this."

"You are. I'm not trying to minimise that." Mary steps to the side to reach for the tissue box. "You're allowed to be hurt by it, and sad, and miss him. That's normal. He just sounds like a dick, and if he's saying that shit to you then you're better off without him." 

"Is it supposed to hurt physically? Like, I feel like I took an elbow to the ribs or something."

"That's your body telling you you need to take a breath, babygirl. Nice and slow, like Shan taught you, alright? Can you do that for me?"

"I'll try," Libby forces out between ragged breaths. She flattens her hand over her diaphragm and takes a deep breath, the exact same way Mary's seen Shannon centre herself dozens, if not hundreds, of times.

"Well done, babygirl. What're you feeling for dessert? I think we've still got some of those brownies from the other night, if Shannon hasn't dummied the rest, or there's ice cream. Both together, even."

"I'm in season, Mary," Libby replies primly, picking up her knife again as though her face isn't still streaked with tears. All Mary can see is Beatrice all those years back, getting food on a table set for four instead of five, face damp and mouth drawn into a thin line. "No dessert except on game days."

"Pretty sure that's not a team rule. You deserve to give yourself a break once in a while, alright? Especially on a day like this. So, what's it gonna be? Ice cream or brownies or both?"

#fic: dads #mary x shannon #myfic #mywn #ask #anon #ty for the prompt! #once again shoehorning in shannon I am so valid

[bunting27]

congrats on 100, love!!! <333 may i request 🍄 prompt: ❛ it’s hot when you talk back. ❜ with scarborough’s one and only, please?

yeah. ✏︎ m. bunting

bunting27's 100 follower celly !

a/n: i have a working theory that bunts' type is either painfully shy or as abrasive and upfront as you could possibly get. this is somehow both

prompts: “it's hot when you talk back"

wc: 0.8k

taglist: @nylwnder @sidcrosbyspuck

✏︎

y/n had never had an amazing relationship with her mom, per se. she was overbearing and strict, and she would project her insecurities onto y/n from a young age. that’s why she was shaking with nerves while she waited for her parents to come meet her and michael at a restaurant 

“if she says anything wildly inappropriate, i’m so sorry in advance, she’s just-” michael shook his head, holding her hand in his while looking down at her with soft eyes and a smile

“i can handle some criticism, if that’s what you’re expecting” she tilted her head slightly with a nod, and michael took it as a sign that the criticism he could be getting tonight would be less like what he received on the ice and more like a dissection of everything he did wrong tonight explained in detail right to his face

he had been scrolling through his phone when he felt her tense beside him, and he looked up to see a short haired woman and a tall bald man beside the table they had been sitting at.

there was no greeting before who he’d assumed was y/n’s mother went “it’s a bit rude of you both to have already ordered your drink. don’t you think you could have waited in the car so we could all get equal service?”

y/n shoved her head in both of her hands and he grabbed her hand under the table again when she had taken her arms down, then he smiled politely at her parents, ignoring the comment.

while everyone waited for the food to come out, michael, y/n and her dad all caught up and got to know each other, and the basis of what michael was learning was that y/n’s dad was a saint, and that her mother was not actually interested in meeting him, only watching him.

when the food came out, the server called for his meal first, a chicken burger with various toppings. before he could even think of signalling that it was his, her mother spoke up for the first time since her original comment

“that’s me, but i wanted the side salad, not a fry and i wanted mayo and onion with no tomato. god how hard can it be to write down an order” michael cleared his throat, and y/n glared at her mom

“jesus, mom. it’s mikey’s, not yours. sorry, honey, that's for him” she smiled politely to the waitress and he did as well, helping out by taking the plate from her so she didn’t have to reach.

her mom scoffed, and seemed satisfied enough when her plate was placed down and it was all correct.

when everyone was done, they began chatting again, save for her mom, and when the bill came out, michael offered to pay. 

“are you trying to buy my acceptance, michael? i’m well capable of-” she was cut off by y/n, who had dropped her phone on the table and sucked her teeth angrily in order to get her mom’s attention

“holy shit, mom. he’s trying to be nice! i’ve had a long day, this is one of his only nights off this week, and frankly, nobody wants to spend their free time hearing you bitch and complain about nothing. this night could not have gone better. the service, the food, michael is great. so for once in your life you need to stop picking apart everything so that you can find a reason to be a raging bitch”

her mom just looked at her with her mouth agape, her dad had a small smile, and michael just placed his hand on her thigh. he put enough cash on the table for the full bill and a generous tip before sliding out of the booth and guiding y/n to come with him. 

“bye, dad. thank you for coming” her dad nodded slightly, waving goodbye to michael and he made quick work of walking y/n out of the restaurant.

“it’s hot when you talk back” y/n smiled at the comment, biting her lip.

“this parking lot’s pretty empty and you have a really nice backseat…” he raised an eyebrow, grinning from ear to ear as he helped her into the back of his car.

he had her jeans unbuttoned in record time, and she was trying at the buttons of his shirt

“ah ah, don’t go thinking you can do whatever you want just cause i said that attitude of yours was hot, it won’t go over so well this time around” she giggled, placing herself in his lap and continuing to untie his shirt regardless 

“oh, yeah?” he smirked 

“yeah.”

#michael bunting #michael bunting x reader #m bunting #nhl blurb #hockey blurb #toronto maple leafs #bunting27's 100 follower celly

[anlian-aishang]

SNK Characters // Inebriated Meals // Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Levi, Erwin, Hange, Jean, Sasha, Connie 

Eren

The Mcdonald’s smorgasbord. Big Mac. 20 Mcnuggets. Hash browns. 2 for 1 apple pies.

The largest chocolate shake on earth.

Can eat an impossible amount of food and still feel hungry afterwards.

Mikasa

An entire row of Oreos. If not, the box.

Instant ramen: dry, crushed up, in the bag, poured into her mouth like a drink.

Sodium intake: off the charts

Armin

Banana cream pie, right out of the tin.

Lay’s potato chips. Plain only. Neither ruffled nor kettle-cooked. Just straight salty goodness.

Pop Tarts, all the flavors he never got to try as a kid. 

Levi

Nutella and a spoon. Straight out of the jar.

Fries dipped in ice cream, only when no one is looking.

Downs a tube of mini M&Ms like its a shot.

Erwin

Fancy boy poutine.

A large cheese pizza all to himself. Will hiss at anyone that comes near.

Fried chicken sandwiches. Insists on getting one from every restaurant and having a taste test so that he can determine “for the good of humanity” which is truly the superior chain.

Hange

Jack in the Box. Munchie Meals. Can’t stop laughing at the tiny tacos.

Food on food on food. Cheese fries. Chili cheese fries. Chicago-style hot dog.

Some freak invention like chicken nuggets on pizza or donuts and ice cream.

Jean

Onion rings. Cheese curds. Mozzarella sticks. When in doubt, deep fry.

Puts Pocky in his mouth, walks around hoping someone will bite the other end.

Eats grapes off the vine with a wink-wink and an eyebrow raise.

Sasha

French fries. Duh.

Sauce on her face, fingers, and the floor.

At first, she is feral keeping all the food to herself. But once the good vibes really kick in, she goes around the room insisting everyone try some.

Connie

Chicken wings. Lofty overconfidence makes him order a flavor that is way too hot for him to handle.

Whipped cream straight from the can to his mouth.

A potato in any form. Fries and chips are alright, but if you present this man a loaded baked potato, he will propose to you right then and there.

// masterlist //

#The most ridiculous hc ever? #aot #snk #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #eren #mikasa #armin #levi #erwin #hange #jean #sasha #connie #anlian writes #my writing #2022 #headcanon #food #food tw #tw food #alias's

[zablife]

Camping

Jack Nelson x family

Summary: Jack Nelson’s four children are playing one hot, summer day and decide to cool off in their father’s office, pretending to camp out under his large desk. What will happen when their father returns home unexpectedly?

Author’s Note: Written for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie Hot Fic Summer Challenge. I chose camping for the PB fandom. I was going to go in another direction with this originally and then I stumbled on the pictures below and decided on something completely different. I hope you enjoy it! (I used the family structure of another story I wrote called Homecoming. You don’t need to read that fic to understand this one though.)

Warnings: language

It was a hot day in Boston and the sun baked the pavement to a temperature more suitable for frying eggs than jumping rope. The neighborhood kids didn't seem bothered, chasing each other with shrill squeals of delight despite the scorching heat. 

Jack Nelson’s four children had been playing outside for hours. Their cheeks were pink with fresh sun which would leave a constellation of freckles across their tiny noses by the end of summer. Their mother had used her time in an empty house wisely, busying herself with household chores. Hearing her bustling about inside, they looked around for ways to entertain themselves.

Five year old Susan was the first to suggest they come inside to escape the harsh rays of the midday sun. “I’m too hot,” she protested to her eight year old brother, Robert. 

“Alright, come on. Let’s go in,” he sighed in agreement. Being the oldest, he took it upon himself to call to Elizabeth and Mary, leading them indoors in a tidy line like baby ducks.

When they entered the house, the air felt thick and stagnant despite a single fan running in the corner. The fan occasionally blew hot air across the living room, but it did little to bring them relief. Six year old Elizabeth piped up with an idea. She was always coming up with fun things to do so the other children listened intently.

“Daddy’s office is nice and cool. Let’s go there,” she suggested. 

“Mom said we can’t go in there!” Susan said protesting. 

“Don’t be a chicken, Susie !” Elizabeth taunted her, running toward the door.

“I don’t know, girls, let’s play something else,” Robert said trying to keep his sisters from imminent trouble. 

“Daddy isn’t home, silly! He can’t punish us if he’s not here. Let’s play under his desk! It will be like we’re camping,” Elizabeth said employing her imagination.

“Yes! That would be so much fun!” Susan agreed, changing her mind.

“Oh, alright, but just for a little while,” Robert said watching his three sisters barge into their father’s study. 

It was dark and quiet, a somber atmosphere that made them all hush their incessant chatter. It was cooler inside as their mother had drawn the shades early that morning so the sunlight could not warm the space.

Three year old Mary brought a blanket from the sofa and let it drag behind her as she toddled into the room. She asked for Robert’s help to drape it over their father’s desk to make a fort and he agreed. "Look, now we have a door!" she cried in delight, watching the fabric cover the opening under the desk. She pulled it back like a curtain to demonstrate and Robert nodded his approval.

Jack’s oak desk was a monstrosity that took up a portion of the room by the large window. It had impressive carvings and beautiful brass handled drawers, but the girls liked the fact that they could fit under it with room to spare. Robert had long since stopped this kind of play, preferring to sit in his father’s chair instead and imagine himself as the boss.

He watched his little sisters huddle under the desk. Only their feet were visible behind the blanket door to their "house." They played quietly for a few minutes before someone stepped on Mary’s fingers and she began to wail loudly. “Shh, don’t cry, Mary,” Robert said, moving the blanket aside to reach in and pick her up.

“I want Mommy!” Mary cried loudly. Robert dutifully went in search of their mother, but not before Elizabeth cried after him, “Don’t tell Mom we’re here!” Robert didn’t look back, but Elizabeth knew he wouldn’t snitch.

With just the two girls under the desk, their play space had increased and they giggled as they laid on their backs, pushing their feet into the top of the desk. They banged their feet against the wood and hummed to themselves, pretending they were walking on the ceiling.

Suddenly they heard someone approaching the room and looked at each other in fear. They knew the sound of their father’s heavy footsteps. The girls sat up quickly, but realized there was no time to run away and tried to hide themselves without making a sound.

Jack looked puzzled as he walked in, finding Mary’s blanket lying across his desk. He balled it up and placed it in a drawer quickly apologizing to whoever he was with, “My kids must have been in here today. Little rascals,” he said. The girls pulled their knees up to their chest and pushed themselves against the front of the desk, trying to keep their little feet out of sight.

“Now, gentlemen, where were we? The contracts, right?” He searched the drawers looking for his paperwork and found it, placing the documents on the his desk.

After a moment of hearing pages flip above them another man's voice sternly accused, “This isn’t the deal we were promised, Nelson."

Jack sucked in a breath before answering, “Well this is the fucking deal you get, boys. Take it or leave it.”

Elizabeth and Susan clapped hands over their mouths, eyes wide at their father's foul language. They had heard him use the f word before and their mother explained it was a very bad word that shouldn't be repeated. The forbidden nature of the curse made it irresistible to them though and they could barely contain their giggles whenever they heard a naughty word. Today was no exception. Susan began first and Elizabeth soon followed, snickering to themselves. 

Jack looked from right to left, trying to find the source of the noise he had heard. He closed his eyes briefly, trying to compose himself when it hit him that his children were in the room. Then he thought to check under the desk. He knew his girls were obsessed with that hiding spot. 

No sooner had he ducked his head under the desk, they yelped, “Daddy!” Jack motioned for them to come to him and they slowly crawled out. 

“I’m sorry for the interruption, fellas. Just let me deal with this real quick,” Jack said trying to handle the situation at hand. Before he could say anything to his children, Elizabeth had popped up next to him and was staring down the grown men in front of her with no sign of fear. 

“Are you gonna take the fucking deal or not?” Elizabeth said in a loud, clear voice, arms folded across her chest to signal that she meant business. Jack's head whipped around to look at his daughter. There was no mistake what she had said. He was silent for a moment before letting out a hearty laugh. He shrugged sheepishly before saying, “What can I say, the kid takes after her old man!”

Then he bent down to the girls and pointed a finger at them threateningly. “You tell your mother about this and you’re grounded for a week." He knew he would be in just as much trouble as Elizabeth if his wife found out about her outburst. "Now go play!” he said giving their backs a nudge. Susan grabbed Elizabeth’s hand and pulled her from the room before they could cause any more trouble.

#Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky blinders imagine #Jack Nelson fanfic #Jack Nelson imagine #cherry pie’s hot fic summer

[substituted-shinigami]

Learning to Breathe

(aka Please Remember To Put On Your Oxygen Mask Before Assisting Others)

Characters: Rukia, Renji, Byakuya, and some Fourth Division OCs, (RenRuki)

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, some Angst, some Humor, Family

Rated: T (for mentions of medical tools such as needles and depictions of anxiety, but nothing is graphic or even really overly described. This story is more about the emotions than the medical drama)

Story Summary: Turns out purple eyes and short stature aren’t the only things that run in Hisana’s family, illness does as well. As Rukia and Renji try to help each other navigate through this new storm in their lives, will they remember to take time to breathe? (Rukia gets the same disease that killed Hisana (Bloodlines AU), Post TYBW, Post renruki engagement)

Click the link to read below or click here to read the story on AO3!

(7/7)

Epilogue: Safe At Last

AO3 chapter link

Chapter Summary: Attention Passengers, we have now (somehow) managed to arrive safely at our destination. Thank you for flying Stress Soul Society Airlines, your number one, and only, choice in airplane travel! We hope one day you will fly with us again! (An epilogue in which Rukia and Renji finally get their sandwiches. Oh, and they work things out with Byakuya too.)

“Now the real question is… how in the world do we handle my brother?” Rukia began around a huge mouthful of egg sandwich. In true chaotic style, when ordering her lunch, Rukia chose not to go with one of the “pre-picked” or “highly suggested” options from the bar’s menu, and instead went fully custom, simply picking out several ingredients that she liked, in this case, hard boiled eggs, cucumbers, ham, and cheese, and then just had them slapped together between two slices of interesting sounding bread, in this case ciabatta. (She tried to get two different kinds of bread too, but they wouldn’t let her.) However, while the flavors were good overall, it turned out kind of dry. She reached for a mayo packet. “He keeps pushing you so hard on this, and is convinced it is the correct way. I understand he’s grieving and trying to be supportive, but pushing his feelings onto you doesn’t help either of you!” Rukia snapped, squeezing the mayo packet onto her sandwich with a lot more force than was probably necessary.

Renji licked the sauce from his chicken bacon ranch sandwich off of his fingers, it was on a sesame seed bun and had honey mustard and extra bacon added, and thought for a moment.

“I think I have an idea for how to handle that actually…” he replied as he grabbed a french fry and dunked it into the ketchup. Rukia raised an eyebrow at him.

__________________________________

Later that evening, there was a knock on Kuchiki Byakuya’s home office door.

“Enter,” he said curtly without looking up. The door slid open, and Rukia and Renji were both bowing together in the entryway, “Come in. To what do I owe this visit?”

“Niisama, we require your assistance!” Rukia said as they entered the room. Byakuya’s head shot up.

“What is it? Is something amiss?” he asked quickly, his brows furrowing.

“No, nothing like that, Niisama,” she began, “But as you know, I’m in training for the captain’s exam. However, due to my current illness, some may see me as unfit to lead, and wish to dismiss me.”

“That’s ridiculous, even with the illness you are more than capable. The late Captain Ukitake served as a captain for hundreds of years with an illness,” Byakuya dismissed, as he went back to signing his paperwork. Rukia took a deep breath and let it out again.

“Be that as it may,” she stated slowly and deliberately, “it is still a concern. So in order to prove them wrong, I would like to be extra prepared for the exam. Therefore,” Rukia took another deep breath, “I would like you to train me, Niisama.” Byakuya paused in his writing, and gave his sister a pointed look.

“What about my venerable vice captain, Abarai Renji?” Byakuya asked dryly and a little suspiciously, “Has he not mastered bankai? Is he not capable?”

“Renji is very capable!” Rukia snapped defensively.

“Buuuut, I’m not a captain…captain,” Renji said, trying to get the bickering siblings back on track, “And as much as I would like to help, you would be more suited for the job. Plus, unfortunately, I’m going to be pretty busy.”

Byakuya narrowed his eyes at his second, "And why, pray tell, is that?”

“U-Um…well,” Renji stammered, before finding his voice again, “because of all our new recruits, of course, sir! Now that the reconstruction is well underway, we are finally building up the Sixth Division again, and I’ve barely had a chance to meet any of them!”

“So? You do not need to have a personal interaction with every one of your underlings.”

“He does if he’s going to be training them,” Rukia piped in, now that she had cooled down a little. Byakuya sniffed at that.

“We have other people who can do that.”

“Oh yeah?" Rukia asked, cocking an eyebrow, "And how’s that been going for you?” Byakuya pursed his lips and frowned. Rukia continued, “Besides, it’s not just the recruits he needs to socialize with, it’s people from the other squads too. During this time of reconstruction, it's important to keep up relations between squads, and Renji is very suited to do this.” Rukia didn’t say that Byakuya wasn’t very suited to do this. She didn’t have to.

“Perhaps,” Byakuya relented, “However, if Vice Captain Abarai is running around doing all of these tasks, then how will he, Renji, also be able to help you out as well?”

“Ah! But you see, that actually works in our favor, Niisama!” Rukia started excitedly, “After all, if I’m seen getting ready for the captain’s exam, but call on Renji for every little thing, then they may get the impression that I do not have the fortitude to be a captain. Therefore it is imperative that Renji helps me out less, so that way I can prove those who would vote against me wrong!” She finished triumphantly.

“Perhaps…” Byakuya said again more slowly, “However, what happens if you require his assistance, and he’s not there? What happens when you feel faint? If you fall, and cannot send out a hell butterfly?”

“We both have soul pagers, Niisama, I can always text him if I really need something,” Rukia stated matter-of-factly. Byakuya looked down as he neatly folded his hands on his desk. He sighed.

“I can see that this matter is very important to you…however, please keep in mind that you may not have as much time as you may think. Do you not wish to spend it together rather than chasing an uncertain future which may be devoid of each other?”

“We do not yet know the future, Niisama," Rukia said kindly, "And whatever it might be, we will be doing it together. But we don’t have to be physically together all the time in order to do that. And besides, as important as we are to each other, there are a lot of other people who are important to us too. Ichigo, Orihime, Chad, Ishida, our divisions, the other vice captains, and you, Niisama, you are all important to us, and we want to spend time with all of you as well. That way, if anything were to happen, none of us will have any regrets.”

Byakuya was quiet for a moment before finally nodding, “I understand. I wish…I too wish to spend time with you...Rukia.” She smiled at him.

“As do I, Niisama, as do I.”

“It is settled then. I will train you, and Abarai will return to his odious task of socializing both within and without the Sixth Division, unless you truly find yourself unable to be without his personage. Is there anything else?”

“Um… Nope. That’s pretty much it,” Rukia shrugged.

“Good. You may take your leave then,” Byakuya finished, and went right back to work as if he hadn’t just had an emotionally trying experience. Rukia and Renji blinked, and turned to leave, when he piped up one more time, “Oh. One more thing.”

“Yes, Niisama?” Rukia asked, as they turned back around.

“If…If you ever need to go to the Fourth Division, for appointments or treatments, and Abarai is not available…and you need someone familiar to go with you…I can go if my schedule allows it…” Rukia's eyes opened wide.

“Oh! You don’t have to do that Niisama! I know how you feel about that section of the Fourth after…well…”

“Yes, however…” Byakuya began, as he put down his pen again, “As you said, we do not yet know the future…so perhaps it will be different this time…”

“Yes…Yes! Thank you, Niisama!” Rukia half coughed, half sobbed, “N-Niisama?”

“Yes?”

“May I…hug you?”

Byakuya blinked, “Oh…I suppose…” He stood up. Rukia briskly walked over and wrapped her arms around him. Byakuya patted her back awkwardly. Renji, trying to remain professional, barely kept a smile off of his face. Byakuya, also trying to remain professional, barely kept from glaring at him.

Eventually, Rukia stepped back, wiping her eyes. Renji, as if trying to clear the air, coughed and said, “You know, we can also all do fun activities together too! Like go see a play at the theater or something.” At that, Byakuya's face visibly brightened.

“Ah! Yes! I just remembered. They are doing a rendition of Kanjinchō at the kabuki theater by the Fourth Division next Thursday. Do you wish to go, Rukia?”

“Oh? Well, yes! Thank you, Niisama!” Rukia nodded vigorously, still wiping her eyes.

“I suppose you can also come, Abarai Renji,” Byakuya said with a wave of his hand. Renji’s eyebrow twitched.

“Thank you, sir.”

“Although,” Byakuya thought aloud, “the play does occur just after dinner. Therefore, we may want to acquire our evening meal at a restaurant nearby in order to not be tardy.”

“Oh! Well in that case, Niisama,” Rukia began, as she shared a mischievous smile with her fiance, “we do know of this really great sandwich shop…”

Byakuya looked between the grinning pair with growing trepidation, "I'm sorry… A what?!?"

#bleach #renruki #fanfiction #renji abarai #rukia kuchiki #byakuya kuchiki #post tybw #learning to breathe #L2B #bloodlines au #hurt/comfort #some angst #some humor #family

[nodominion]

The Air Fryer

Completely inspired by this post by @desertfangs, Rose freaks out about her immortality and food tech.

_____

The device seemed to mock her. Its very presence at Trinity was a steady reminder of her own immortality. Rose was now removed from humans, had been so for years, and yet this was the first thing that made her realize the choice she had made. Apparently it wasn’t new, but it was new to her here, in this place where she and Viktor were turned. Rose often enjoyed studying Trinity for little differences, seeing what had changed and what was new in Armand’s domain. Viktor and she often flitted in and out of Trinity on their way to and from California and France. Seth and Fareed enjoyed their compound and stayed there most of the time, which meant long trips broken up in segments to go and visit them. Rose never minded, she enjoyed planning new cities and towns to visit on the way. It was one of her goals to visit every state, and then every Canadian province, and then every Central American country, and then every European country. South America was a little out of the way between the castle and the main lab, but once their stamina was better with age she wanted to tackle those countries as well. 

But Trinity was easy for them to stop into. They were always welcome, or they hadn’t been turned away yet, and sometimes they were able to meet up with others who were also staying here for short times. Antoine seemed to split his time between the castle and Trinity, and Louis typically spent a few months of the year in New York. One time she and Viktor had the brownstones all to themselves, everyone else at the castle. Rose didn’t expect that to happen again, as at the very least Armand, Sybelle, and Benji were almost always here. Daniel most of the time too, but he’d told them once he liked to travel as well. 

Rose opened the door, sniffing warily inside. There was a neutral scent, clean, most likely the tray was shoved into a dishwasher. Though which vampire remembered to take it out and put it back here was not something she knew. Benji had roped Viktor into a series of competitions, and while it had been entertaining to watch for some time, there was only so much bravado she could handle in one night. Sybelle was playing, and though Rose often took that opportunity to sit with her, this contraption called to her. 

As she went to plug it in, an elder heartbeat echoed behind her. She turns to face Armand, sighing. 

“Tell me you’ve all used this thing before, and that I don’t need to find an instruction booklet that was most likely tossed to figure out how to use it.”

Armand said nothing, though his expression bordered on complete confusion. Rose was allowed in the Trinity kitchens whenever she wished. There was almost always a supply of blood, as well as some errant human food. Sybelle always had a bowl of citrus fruits on hand, though she destroyed them with her nails before they ever rotted. Rose hadn’t taken out any blood or food to attempt to cook, not her usual methodology when she tried to make blood foods. Armand knew that about her, and he stepped close to her, though did not touch her.

“If you require assistance, you are aware you only need to ask.”

“I know. I know! I…I just…this thing was invented after I was turned. You know? I don’t know what to do with it. It seems simple enough, and I can read so I do understand what the dials say and the buttons and the…I mean they’re all touch screen but you get it. Right?”

Before he could reply, Rose keeps at it, her voice raising in pitch, sounding more frenetic with each word.

“It’s just that this is new! It can apparently, supposedly, make food that is crispy without having to fry it in oil. How does it do that? I mean, I know how, logically, I looked it up, but it doesn’t make any sense! How can hot, circulated air turn a piece of breaded chicken into a delicious chicken strip!? It doesn’t make sense. And I never got to experience it and…and…how many more things are they going to come out with that we won’t get to experience because we’re dead?!”

She shivers, dropping down to sit on the hardwood floor, her knees curled to her chest, her thoughts far too wild to make sense of. Though she doesn’t notice, Armand looks away from her, as if cataloging how many times Lestat’s fledglings came to him to have their breakdowns. 

He joins her on the floor, petting her hair gently, as if to calm a frightened mare. 

“You and Viktor will be ten years in the blood this summer, yes? May I suggest you visit here when that date occurs. If these feelings arise at that time, you will be in a safe place. The place you both cast aside mortality for something more. That choice came with consequences, ones you were aware of. The world moves on without us in it. We are removed from their pettiness, and at times, their innovation. Humans are nothing if not resourceful.”

“But we…us…we’re stuck. We’re tied to when we were turned and…I didn’t expect to feel so disconnected, not yet. I still know how to use my phone and my laptop and things have evolved in technology but they haven’t changed in this way. Not like…that thing. It’s foreign to me! It’s like an alien brought it down and all the humans understand it and I can’t!”

“Times are different now than they were when most of us were turned. How many changes do you think Marius witnessed within ten years of his turning? Not the amount you have, simply because of the interconnectivity of the world now. He would not have been aware of Chinese inventions or Indian monuments or what peoples were living on the land we currently sit on. You are. My Sybelle and Benji have felt this as well, though it fades faster in them. Benji is committed not to let human inventions bypass his radar, and Sybelle is aware that music is always music, no matter the time.”

“No, you’re right, Armand, of course you are! I’m sorry. You’ve always been so good to us whenever we drop by and here I am taking advantage of your hospitality.”

“Nonsense. You need to mourn for experiences you shall never have. But you have blood. You can find any mortal and drink from them and understand their life in a clarity that they never will. Stalk a restaurant one night. Dine on the staff and the clientele. Shall we go hunting tonight?”

“No, I’m not…well we can always drink but I fed tonight. I wouldn’t enjoy it as much as I would after sunset.”

“Tomorrow then. Would you want company for this outing?”

“No, thanks. I…this is gonna sound really disrespectful, but can I destroy it? Like, smash it with a hammer? I’ll buy you back a better one, promise.”

“You’re asking my permission to cause damage? Rose de Lioncourt, you may be Lestat’s through and through, but don’t discredit the effect Louis has had on you.”

Finally feeling somewhat relieved of her mental anguish, Rose giggles, standing and helping him up. She pulls him into a hug, one he doesn’t initially respond to, but when he mentally senses she is only wanting to show her appreciation Armand pats her back warmly. 

Armand carries the air fryer to the garden on ground level, not wanting debris to fly from a higher floor. There is no need for safety gear as Rose takes a rock from the landscaping, pounding into the metal and glass, hardly blinking as it all shatters before her. She knew her strength, but it was so often used on humans that she was surprised by how quickly the device practically disintegrated. She is diligent, not wanting to be a messy house guest, cleaning it up herself, though Armand stays to supervise. When all that’s left of her planned tantrum is a garbage bag she sits on the grass, looking up to the sky.

“I don’t regret the choice I made. I know it must’ve seemed like it. But I wouldn’t trade this life to be a human again. You are right, they are petty and cruel and not worth our time. Not most of them, anyway. Do you think everyone in the tribe was destined to be turned?”

“What is destiny? Do you believe in such a thing?”

“No, I guess I don’t. Thank you, Armand. You’ve been a good friend tonight. One I needed.”

He joins her, looking up at the same spot she is. 

“Your thanks is not needed. Simply live. You are not dead. Death has not taken you from this world.”

“It sure tried to. I’ll try.”

Rose rests her head against Armand’s shoulder, grateful for him and his friendship. 

#armand #rose de lioncourt #the vampire chronicles #ficlet #this is where my brain goes instead of writing other drafts #fun fact: did you know tumblr upped the queue limit from 300 to 1000! #i only learned this last week and apparently they'd done that sometime last year

[writing-ro]

TFRarepair Fest Day 1: Hot Drinks/Leftovers

My first prompt for the @tfrarepairing​ ‘s TFRarepair Fest 2022. My plans for the fest is to write as many JuneOP fics as possible, cause I will paddle this canoe upriver by myself if I have to. This fic is a missing scene from my fic Father of the Spark, so some things won’t make sense unless you read that one. Hope you enjoy!

Also found at: [A3O] [FFN]

---

 June couldn’t help the sigh of relief as she entered the warm apartment. Despite living most of her life in the state, she’d never quite gotten used to how cold Nevada got after the sun went down, especially in the winter. Oh, she knew it had nothing on the snows her brother Thomas got on his ranch in Montana, but that was why she avoided visiting him in winter (luckily their parents were ever willing to play holiday hosts for the Darby children).

 As she hung her coat on the rack, Orion stuck his head out of the kitchen, his long black hair loose and blue eyes twinkling the way they always did when he looked at her (at least according to Analise, whose opinion June hadn’t asked for). “Welcome back, June. How was your shift?”

 “Mostly quiet, thankfully, though I had to assist in a surgery and skipped my last break,” June said, taking her scarf and gloves off, dropping them into their box before rubbing her hands together. “Christ, it’s cold out there.”

 “Maybe this will help.” Orion walked towards her with a steaming mug. She eagerly took it, and smiled as the aroma of hot chocolate hit her nose.

 “You really don’t need to do this every night, Orion,” she said, even as she raised the mug to take a sip. The perfect temperature, and he’d used the french vanilla creamer instead of milk, her favorite way to make it.

 “It’s no trouble, June,” Orion said. “I’ve also got food warmed in the oven. Just some of our leftovers thrown together, but I think it turned out alright.”

 “That’s why it’s so warm in here.” She kicked off her shoes and followed him into the kitchen. She sat down while he got their dinner, and noticed the closed binder next to his plate and mug. “More dreams?”

 “Reviewing the ones I’ve had before,” he said, pulling a frying pan from the oven. “A new character appeared this week. A doctor, actually, named Ratchet. He was apparently a semi-famous war hero, and I asked him questions about the work he did. He answered, very grumpily, and smacked me with a wrench when I revealed I’d allowed my injury in the hope to be treated by him.”

 June laughed. “Oh, how I wish I could do that with some of the people who come into ER. I swear, we’ve had at least three men this week who came in just to try and flirt with us.” Analise handled hers with her usual cool “I’m not attracted to men” line, which was true. Erika simply smiled and flashed her engagement ring, and June herself just grinned and bore it, since she had no ready made excuse.

 The pan was set on the table, and June could see it was a mix of the sweet and sour chicken and rice they’d had two nights before, as well as the kale, carrots and onions from the salads she typically took to work. That had been a day or two away from going off, so that was a good choice.

 “That looks delicious, Orion. You sure you weren’t a chef before you showed up here?”

 “Considering the ‘Fried Egg Incident’, it’s probably a safe bet that I was not.” Orion dished some onto both of their plates before sitting himself. They started eating, and Orion told her about the book he’d finished reading, and some of his thoughts on the author’s intent with some elements. In turn, June told him about the surgery she’d assisted with, a simple appendectomy that she was pulled in on cause the nurse who was supposed to assist had to leave early. It hadn’t been bad, though Dr. Phineas had made a pass at her which she’d gently deflected.

 After she finished, Orion was quiet for a moment, then spoke. “Those men at work… Are you certain they aren’t bothering you?”

 “I’m a big girl, Orion. I can handle a bit of inappropriate flirtation,” June reassured him. That was something she enjoyed about Orion, he asked things like that out of genuine concern. He was never patronizing or thinking she couldn’t take care of herself, (and had even mentioned a chill of fear down his back at the very thought), but also never dismissive of when she did have a worry. “Besides, you put up with that at your work too.”

 “True. I’ve caught several women watching me as I restock the books. Even had a high schooler make a pass, though I think it might have been a dare the way her friends giggled about it.” He grimaced at that, and June completely got why.

 “Maybe we need a way to deflect their attentions.” She scooped up a forkful of stir fry, and thought. “Maybe a fake boyfriend for me and fake girlfriend for you. Might throw some of them off.”

 Orion thought a moment, then smiled. “Never hurts to try, at least. But what should we say about them?”

 “Well, what traits would you want in an ideal partner?” June asked. “For me, definitely tall. At least half a head taller than me. And well built, I like a bit of muscle.” She smiled at the mental image.

 Orion thought for a moment, then said “Shorter. Someone I can tuck around and be reassured I can keep them safe. Their body type, I don’t really care about, but I would hope they’d be kind.”

 June’s smile softened, slight lechery replaced with sweetness. “Being kind is definitely a requirement. And smart; no way would I ever date a man dumber than me.”

 Orion snorted. “Oh certainly. And I would hope she would indulge my ramblings about whatever new book I read, and how I think it connects to the authors other works in universe or in meta-contextual sense.”

 “Of course! Just like I’d want mine to let me rant about the unusual patients or when the doctors are being particularly frustrating.”

 “She should enjoy spending quiet moments together.”

 “Walks in the park.”

 “Watching movies.”

 “Dancing in the living room.”

 “Be able to talk about anything.”

 “Makes excellent hot chocolate,” June raised her mug and drank the last of hers.

 “Blue eyes.”

 June almost choked, but swallowed around the lump in her throat and looked at Orion. His blue eyes were still sparkling, but there was an intensity behind it now, completely focused on her.

 She nodded, not breaking eye contact. “Definitely blue eyes. And long hair.”

 “Long black hair.” He reached out and brushed away a strand that had fallen from her ponytail. She leaned into the touch, and he cradled her cheek. “The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen or met.”

 Her breath hitched, and unconsciously she leaned in. He met her halfway, and when their lips met, there was just sense of right. This was it. What she’d described and dreamed was in front of her.

 The kiss was short, but she was breathless when they separated. She looked up at Orion, and couldn’t help a happy giggle, which Orion echoed with a soft chuckle, resting his forehead against hers.

 “Orion, would you be my ‘fake’ boyfriend?”

 “I will. Will you be my ‘fake’ girlfriend?”

 “Yes.” And they sealed their agreement with another ‘fake’ kiss.

#2022TFRarePairingFest #Transformers #Transformers Prime #June Darby/Optimus Prime #Optimus Prime #June Darby #Humanformers #fandom: transformers #fandom: Transformers Prime #ship: june darby/optimus prime #char: june darby #char: optimus prime #Father of the Spark

[damedechance]

"do you guys want chicken nuggets?"

An ACOTAR drabble inspired by @sarahsoba and based on a true story:

The buckles on her shoes keep slipping out of her fingers, and the sharp prong stabs her one too many times. With a huff, Gwyn sharply stands back up, and immediately regrets the action.

“Whoa,” she says, bracing one hand on the wall as she works on swallowing down her nausea.

Once the moment has passed, Gwyn sighs and walks over to the kitchen, where she places the paper bag in her hands on the counter, and begins rifling through the junk drawer. The apartment is dark, and for the life of her she can’t remember where the light switch might be found. She reaches blindly for the pair of scissors, and braces her elbow on the counter for balance. This should not be such a laborious task, but alcohol has dulled her mind, and has made motor planning a tenuous thing.

Eventually, she finds the plastic handle of the lone pair of scissors they keep in the apartment. Lifting one leg and resting her ankle across the other knee, Gwyn cuts the thin strap of her shoe, and sighs in relief when she hears it drop heavily onto the linoleum. She repeats the process with the other shoe, and spreads her toes to relish in the feeling.

“Fucking finally,” she grumbles, as she snatches the bag off the counter and begins to amble her way out of the kitchen.

The paper bag rustles as she digs a hand in, and clumsily pulls out a french fry. She misses her mouth at first, and then decides to just grab a few in her fist, so that by the time she brings it to her mouth, at least one will make it in.

Gwyn’s shoulder bumps into the wall in the hallway, and she leans against it for a moment, closing her eyes. But she knows she must complete her task before she may collapse entirely, and so Gwyn determinedly sets her eyes on the door at the end of the hall and continues on.

Her ears are ringing, still thrumming from the pulsing music at the club, but through the hazy sound, she can hear something rustling from beyond the door, along with a rhythmic thump. Odd, but not altogether too concerning. And so Gwyn reaches Nesta’s bedroom door, triumph written clear across her face at having made the short distance with the contents of her fast food bag still held safely inside.

Grinning broadly from ear to ear, Gwyn wipes the grease off of her palm and onto the short skirt of her dress, and then grabs the doorknob. As she turns it, she hears a deep voice grunting, “What the fuck?”

The hallway was pitch black, but inside Nesta’s room the overhead light is on, and the bed is directly in her line of sight as the door swings away. Still chewing, Gwyn watches as Cassian hurriedly pulls a sheet up and over his body, along with Nesta’s, but he’s done an inadequate job, because it is clear that they are both still naked, and that Nesta is seated directly over his crotch.

Gwyn blinks, and then stretches her arm out, extending the open McDonald’s bag towards them.

“Do you guys want chicken nuggets?” Gwyn slurs.

Cassian stares at her incredulously for a moment, mouth gaping and cheeks still flushed with exertion. Nesta’s stunned expression slowly morphs, becoming smooth as her eyes light on the bag held in Gwyn’s hand.

Nesta shrugs, and reaches towards the bag. The sheet falls down off her shoulder, and then she pulls the bag towards her, and drops it onto Cassian’s bare chest. “Did you get sweet and sour?” she asks, rifling through the bag.

“Nes–”

“Honey mustard,” Gwyn says, walking over and flopping down at the end of Nesta’s bed. She thinks someone’s foot might be beneath her back, but ignores it. “They were out.”

Nesta scoffs, and Gwyn can hear that her mouth is already full. “Typical.”

“Do you want anything, Cass?” Gwyn asks, yawning up at the ceiling as she tries to keep the room from spinning.

There is a moment of silence, and then a resigned sigh.

“Give me a fry,” Cassian says.

#acotar #fanfiction #drabble #gwyn #gwyneth berdara #nesta #nesta archeron #cassian

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

26 for Sia and Sam!!!

Making Dinner - Intimacy Prompt

For Siobhan Kelly (OC) and Sam Drake - Uncharted

"Cock-a-whaty?" He stared at her with a lopsided grin, his eyebrow raised as far as it could go. He rested against the kitchen counter, shoulders hunched to meet her eye level.

She tied the apron around her back and sighed heavily. "Cock-a-leekie." Looking over her shoulder she could see how absolutely pleased he was with his own joke. "It's a bloody soup, ya dirty feck."

"Now Sia, you can hardly blame a man when a word like that comes spilling out of a pretty woman's mouth." His cheeky grin only spreading wider on his lips.

"What, leek?" She smirked up at him, blue-green eyes dancing with mischief.

"Ha. So what exactly is in this soup?" He stood up tall, his back aching from forcing himself to stay so small.

"Exactly what it sounds like." She mumbled into the fridge as she grabbed the ingredients.

His eyes went wide, hands naturally drifting to cover himself. He was sure it couldn't really be what she meant, but she also ate blood sausage for breakfast and called it black pudding.

She turned to find him looking defensive. "Jesus, Mary and Joseph." She pinched at the bridge of her nose. "Cock as in cockerel, Samuel. It's feckin' chicken." She shook the bag of chicken thighs at him.

"Praise the lord." His hands returned to resting on the counter. "And leeks then, I assume."

"MENSA here we come." She slid him the cutting board and a knife. "You can handle the veg."

"Yes, boss." He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. Turning to wash his hands in the kitchen sink.

She grabbed the dutch oven and placed it on top of the stove with a heavy thud, clicking on the gas and lighting the flame. Frying the chicken thighs, the sounds of their sizzling flesh filled the kitchen.

"You know what I think always sets the mood?"

"What, love?" She asked, expecting some sort of quip from the fast talking Bostonian.

"Music." He headed into the living room and turned on the stereo. "Got any requests, chef?"

She didn't answer, the sound of the cooking chicken drowned him out.

"Guess it's up to me," he said to himself. Popping open a cd case he slid it into the stereo's cd drive. His head bobbing to the Cult as the opening chords of 'She Sells Sanctuary' began.

"Are ya helping me in here or not?" She called from the kitchen.

"Coming."

She gave him a quick glance as he came back into the kitchen, tucking her hair back behind her ear.

He stood beside her and chopped the leeks in bunches of thick rounds, though his eyes were barely focused on his work. Instead, he couldn't help but notice the soft sway of her hips and the little shuffle of her feet as she flipped the chicken in the pot, dancing along to the music while stuck at the stove.

One year, twelve whole months, to finally get them here. She'd been threatening to cook for him for months, tired of seeing him eat nothing but pub food. "You might not like it, I know most people like to make fun of British and Irish food. All meat and potatoes, no flavour…all that shite. But you can't survive on ale and sausages forever. How long since you've had a vegetable?" She'd looked up at him through her glasses, reflecting the light back at him. She always seemed to care about his well-being, more than anyone else. She tended to his wounds when he came stumbling back from an assignment and was the first to offer him a Tylenol when he was dealing with a hangover.

She was more than he deserved.

"What're you lookin' at?" She asked, giving him the side-eye.

He'd been staring at her a little too long. Wouldn't be the first time she'd caught him doing that and she was always happy to call him out on it.

"You."

"Why?"

Her hair had fallen into loose waves, slipping free of the bobby pins she used to tuck them back. Her glasses pushed up onto her forehead. He had memorised every freckle that was scattered across her skin.

"Why not?"

"Stupid eegit." A flush rose up her cheeks, not only from the heat of the pot she was stirring.

She grabbed the chopping board and dropped the cut leek tops into the pot, along with bacon, carrots and celery. Mixing it to brown them.

He leaned over her shoulder looking down into the pot. "God, that smells good."

She pressed her head back against his chest. "Bacon'll do that."

"Smells almost as good as you." He wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed kisses to her cheek.

His stubble rubbed at her skin as he nuzzled in against her neck.

"Don't make me beat you off me with me wooden spoon," she chuckled.

"Message received, loud and clear." He reached into the pot and grabbed a slice of carrot popping it into his mouth. Licking his fingers with a smirk.

"You are so much trouble, Samuel Drake." She smacked the back of his hand with her spoon playfully.

"Guess the nuns should've been more strict with me."

"I'll be feckin' strict with ya." Plunking the spoon back in the pot, she grabbed him by the tee shirt and lifted up on to her very tip toes to kiss his chin.

He looked over the top of her head at the steam rising from the unwatched pot. "Be careful you don't burn your stock, Sia."

Looking up at him through her lashes, she grabbed the bottle of white wine on the counter pulling the cork out with her teeth and poured the liquor over top of the vegetables without taking her eyes off of him. "I've done this before, I'll have ya remember."

With a wink she turned back to the stove and started to scrape at the browned bottom of the pan. Adding the chicken back into the pot, stirring quickly and then pouring water on top. She placed the lid on top and lowered the heat. "And now we wait."

"How much time have we got?"

"Forty minutes."

"More than enough time for me to make all this worth your while."

She pressed her hand to her hip as she rested against the counter. "What kinda girl do you take me for?"

"One who's far too good for me." He smirked, the crow's feet that hugged his warm brown eyes crinkled.

She pressed her finger to his chest. "And don't ya forget it."

#skelly writes #prompt fill #fluff #fan fiction #siobhan x sam drake #sia x sam #sam drake #samuel drake #uncharted fan fiction

[captainshadowgirllostfan]

Sheldon Cooper vs Abed Nadir

I like Sheldon believe it or not. I think his unlikability is what makes the character unique and unfortunately in putting in a google search of Sheldon vs Abed (from community), this is one of the biggest reasons people say that Abed is a better character than Sheldon and I think that’s ridiculous.

While I agree there’s a racism issue in Hollywood and the reason Parsons got an Emmy and Golden Globe for Sheldon Cooper while Danny Pudi got nothing for Abed definitely might have a lot to do with the color of their skins, I do think Parsons deserved his reward for Sheldon Cooper because Sheldon Cooper is a unique character and Parson did a great job acting as Cooper. Even after the writers kept butchering the character from Season 5 onwards, Parsons is still able to bring in a human quality in Sheldon and it’s partly why there’s articles written about Sheldon and his psychology because he’s a fascinating comic character.

Unfortunately his role in the Big Bang Theory is to be the pun of all jokes. His autistic trait is treated as a joke. It’s not accepted, it’s not valued, it’s demeaned and picked on and even gives people the excuse to say Sheldon deserves to be left out all because he’s “unlikable”

And this is why I despise this argument that Abed is a better character because he’s “likable”. I don’t think actual autistic people are supposed to be likable. I mean I’m not saying they aren’t capable of it but from a brief look at how parents struggle to care for their autistic children and the difficulties with behavior, to claim that an autistic character is only good if he’s “likable” is fucking dehumanizing to me. What? You’re gonna only give anybody a credit of your time and acceptance if he’s “nice”?

Sheldon, unlike Abed, doesn’t just have to deal with struggles of connection. This is Community touches on with Abed, a lack of connection with people because he feels like an outsider and can only observe, but with Sheldon, his issues are much more. Sheldon has misophonia, he also seems to be suffering from OCD or OCPD, in which everybody must fit into his routines precisely because he believes this is the way things are supposed to be, he’s compulsively neat and ordered and he needs things to be that way. 

I saw a video of a little boy (who either has OCD or is autistic I don’t remember) who couldn’t even eat his food if all his food touches each other. He literally was crying to his mother. He couldn’t even drink his juice if all the silver top wasn’t ripped off. This is Sheldon and you’re saying Sheldon is a bad character because he’s not “likable”. That by wanting things to fit his sensitivities because he can’t handle touching his food, it makes him narcissistic?

I’ll admit there are some bad behavior Sheldon does that I wish the showrunners would have addressed. He does take advantage of Leonard, and then later Amy. And the creators excuse this. They excuse so much with Sheldon and yes I agree he doesn’t grow. 

Meanwhile Abed seems to grow. Everytime Abed shows some bad “unlikable” trait, there’s an explanation behind it because the creators give him a voice, and most of all his friends respond to him with compassion, kindness, and support.

For example, I just finished Season 1 episode 21, “Contemporary American Poultry”, where the gang become power-high over Abed’s new job as the fry-cook and being able to get the chicken first. The chicken is apparently the only good thing the cafeteria makes. In the beginning of the episode, Abed says some blunt things that hurts Shirley’s feelings about her crush over the dreadlocks guys, along with some hurtful stuff to Britta about how her lack of flavor is a flavor itself when she suggest he thinks about the stuff he says and if it will be hurtful. Abed doesn’t realize what he says is hurtful but in some ways can recognize when someone isn’t happy with him. He’s the observer of the gang. When he gets the job as the fry-cook in the gang’s scheme to get the chicken first, it blows up into bribing the whole school for stuff just to get chicken. The gang gets power high through stuff Abed can get them through his new job which leaves Jeff’s ego hurt and him feeling left out since Abed pretty much replaces him as gang leader. Eventually Abed realizes he isn’t getting the respect he thought he was getting even though he was finally feeling liked in the group and gets back at them, thinking this is what Jeff would do. By the end of the episode, in a ploy to ruin the fry cooker, Jeff finds Abed late at night cooking tater tops which Abed says is the new thing because people are now tired of chicken. Instead of ruining the cooker, and thus ruining Abed, Jeff has a conversation with Abed and Abed reveals that he liked the job and giving chicken because he finally feels like people liked him for once and that he and the world was finally speaking the same language. The show gives Abed a voice and humanizes him from a robot that tends to hurt people with what he says to someone who just genuinely struggles to connect with people and need to use someone to gain a connection whether it’s chicken or movie references. And best of all, Community doesn’t have his friends mock him for his struggles or use it as a pun for jokes. It respects Abed. And his friends respect him too... even when he’s a jerk. They listen to him and try to understand him.

You don’t get that with Sheldon.

So there’s the difference in my opinion.

The difference between Abed and Sheldon isn’t that one character is better than the other, but the fact that the show each respective character is in treats them different. Abed is treated better, with kindness and support, while Sheldon isn’t treated well AT ALL.

For me, realizing that with Big Bang came around Season 3 episode 1 when Sheldon and crew comes back from the Artic. The crew’s ill-treatment and laissez-faire attitude for legitimately ruining a friend’s experiment along with actually considering to kill him makes me honestly wonder if they care about Sheldon at all. Nevermind how difficult Sheldon’s eccentricities are. Even if the writers wrote this, the fact no discussion was made over Sheldon’s feelings. The fact that Sheldon’s feelings was treated as “childish” according to Leonard, tells you everything you needed to know about how Big Bang Theory views Sheldon Cooper. He has NO voice. His voice doesn’t matter. He’s the wackadoodle, the “crazy” man. Anything he says, is just ridiculous and isn’t valid.

Is it any wonder Sheldon just grows worse as the seasons go on when surrounded by people who treats him as an insane person. And tbh Season 3 shouldn’t have been a wake-up call on that. Sheldon’s mental state has been the pun of jokes since Season 1 but since we don’t  legitimately see Sheldon upset, I didn’t think anything of it. It seemed like friends just making mild complaints over a difficult friend but who understands and still hangs out with him. But when Sheldon WAS upset, those same friends just didn’t care. AT ALL. And throughout they actively try to exclude him on their activities and complain about him all the same. When he goes through heartbreak, they go comfort his ex instead of him (at least that’s what I heard. I haven’t watch so I might be wrong but I gotta say I’m appalled but again unsurprised). I’d say out of the friend group his truest friends seem to be Leonard and Penny.��

Leonard because even though he has hurt Sheldon the most, demean him the most, and also whines about him the most, he does side with Sheldon at times he needs him and does show concern for him. Penny because she is the one we’ve seen Sheldon share his inner self the most and who responds and deals with him with the most compassion. I guess Amy also counts to because Sheldon does become vulnerable in front of her, from the bits of scenes I’ve seen of them anyway. And Amy for a time had been the one that seems to understand Sheldon the most until the writers gave Amy this desire to have se and have Sheldon be the one to do it when he’s been written to be repelled of it... you know for laughs. 

Amy and Leonard are hard to write in terms of saying their Sheldon’s friends because I feel like they also manipulate and treat Sheldon bad. They complain and whine when they don’t get what they want and I also think both of them like that Sheldon relies on them, and is co-dependent on them... and that isn’t healthy. But there’s no denying that these two are friends who care for Sheldon.

But anyway the others are only friends because their friends are friends of Sheldon... so why do they all treat Sheldon bad? Because when you watch Big Bang Theory, you realise as the episodes go on, that everyone in Big Bang Theory treats everybody bad. These are a toxic group of people and there is not growth. They’re stuck in this childish bubble and it’s NOT because their geeks who like nerd culture. You can be a grown-up and like Star Wars, Star Trek, Marvel and DC. But Big Bang says otherwise. No they say, you need to get married and have kids to be grown up and that’s such a stupid message to bring. This crew is childish because they’re honest to god just awful. They can’t have a conversation without putting someone down. They can’t get over their damn egos.

Community gives us a different aura of things... of course I haven’t finished the series yet and apparently the gang does become a bit toxic by the end of the series but it seems the showrunners and writers are aware of this while in Big Bang, there is either a blindness to this, or is written deliberatly because for some reason tv shows think toxic relationships are what sells funny.

It really doesn’t.

Anyway this turned into a rant. Let me just conclude.

Sheldon isn’t written badly. He’s just treated badly. Because his autism is the brunt of jokes and is meant to look down on. This is sad because out of the two characters being compared, I think he needs the support the most due to the myriad of issues he suffers from. 

Abed isn’t written badly either of course but unlike Sheldon he’s treated with respect by the writers of Community. He’s given a voice and his friends treat him compassion.

#abed nadir #community #sheldon cooper #big bang theory #i love both shows #though i also hate big bang to a certain extent #so yeah i think right now community is better #but i still find big bang funnies #at least in the first three seasons #and it's only because of sheldon i even think of big bang fondly

[ochazuku]

You're fried (*fired)

Denki’s brain is already fried after a long day.

All he wants is some fried chicken, and not to become twice-fried by the guy working at the fast food restaurant.

(click here to read on ao3)

The guy in front of Kyouka isn’t responding.

To be slightly more precise, he’s lagging.

”Oi, can you move it!” screams the staff member handling the queue - the one with the explosive hair and the explosive voice. “The snake behind you is growing.”

Kyouka looks behind her. He’s right - the queue is getting longer by the second, impatient feet tapping, impatient stomachs growling.

”Do you need help?” Kyouka tries. “I can help you if you’re not familiar with the ordering machine.”

The guy doesn’t seem to hear her. Seems like his processor really has crashed.

He stays like this for the next two minutes, unmoving, silly expression on face and silly finger in air. Kyouka really wants to laugh, but the tension in the air is growing and -

“FUCK OFF ALREADY!!!” Explosive Store Worker loses it, exploding at Lagging Brain-Fried Guy.

Commotion erupts as the poor silly guy falls onto the cold hard ground; as he does, he seems to regain his senses somewhat, wincing in pain. Another staff member - the white-haired one that was multitasking really hard (handling both the fire for frying chicken and the ice for soft drinks at the same time), comes to control his co-worker.

Poor Silly Guy runs away from the scene, looking traumatised. Kyouka hurries up with her order at the self-serving kiosk and quickly gets out of the restaurant, too.

=============================================

It takes Kyouka five minutes to find him, sitting sadly on a bench at the park beside the mall.

”Are you alright?” Kyouka tries to speak in her most compassionate voice as she plops herself down on the empty seating space beside him. There’s a bit of extra space in between them, so there she places the box of chicken and fries, plus two paper cups filled with Cool-Aid and ice, fitting the space perfectly.

Poor Guy (now no longer silly) stares at her, looking confused and a little sad. “Huh?” is all he says, eloquently.

”I was the person right behind you in the queue. That worker guy shouldn’t have done that to you, no matter how slow you were.” Kyouka picks up a French fry, handing it to him. “No worries, he's been fired already.”

A slight pause, a series of three confused blinks, a chewing of French fry later, another “Huh?” is all that comes out of his mouth.

“Yeah, in fact he was fired twice. First by his co-worker, the cool multitasking fire dude, who had to restrain him with actual fire. Then by his manager, who fired him from the job.” Kyouka hands him the box. “Here. You can have the whole box.”

”Oh,” Poor Guy responds quietly as he chews on some fries, seeming to get it by now. “Thank you.” A slight pause. “Wait, why am I eating your food?! And who are you?!”

(Because first I felt extremely bad for you and wanted to lend you a listening ear, and then I realised how extremely cute you are when you are being silly, and now I realise how extremely cute you are even when you’re not being silly, is what Kyouka wants to say, but -)

”Because I thought maybe you’d like to enjoy some fried chicken and fries, after a long and tiring day like this.” Kyouka smiles. “And I am your new friend, your new fried chicken buddy.”

#jirou x kaminari #jirou x denki #denki x jirou #kaminari x jirou #kamijirou #jirokami #jiroukami #BNHA #MHA #boku no hero academia #boku no hero fanfic #my hero academia #my hero academia fanfic #my hero academia fanfiction #boku no hero academia fanfic #boku no hero academia fanfiction