#I think they tried to recreate a grocery store cake

[bonerot19]

I have a very important question.

What flavor cake was it? Chocolate, vanilla, red velvet?

Dear god, don’t say carrot.

Jason's birthday cake in summer?

I think it would be vanilla, mostly bc I think most grocery store cakes I've had have been vanilla. and Alfred would make some exquisite swiss buttercream frosting that would be so much better than the tooth-achingly sweet, pure sugar of grocery store cakes.

I also imagine it as a rectangle (with two layers). and it has messy piping to decorate the edges (Dick did that part) and Steph wrote HAPPY BIRTHDAY in green frosting on the top but birthday ended up a little squished at the end (surely more letters will fit in the same space).

Bruce was in charge of the candles (one was listing sideways, a bit, as he entered Jason's bedroom and Bruce was v brave about it and definitely didn't think about that for the rest of the day)

[cryptidsurveys]

🎃 Thursday, October 31st, 2024. 🎃

Are you seeking contentment or excitement? I have been pretty content lately, but a little bit of the right kind of excitement wouldn't hurt.

What was the last TV show you watched? I have no idea. I don't think I've watched regular television since early 2020.

What is one place you’d love to travel to? Japan.

What are three things you have to buy? I don't need to buy anything at the moment (we just went to the grocery store yesterday morning), but I have been at least considering dyeing my hair in the near future. I haven't settled on a color yet, though.

Are you a leader or follower? For the time being, I'm more comfortable as a follower, but I do have aspirations of being something of a leader one day. Maybe cattery lead…

What was the best part of your day? Volunteering at the animal shelter and joking around with Kristen and Riley.

Do you owe anybody money? I need to give my mom half of the cost of the carpet cleaner we recently purchased.

What is the most expensive thing in your closet? I don't think anything in there is particularly expensive, so it's hard to say.

List five foods you ate today? Some of the Oreo coffee cake I baked yesterday, an oatmeal bowl, a toasted cheese and jalapeno sandwich, and mixed veggies with sriracha sauce. I haven't eaten a fifth thing, but I'll be having a yogurt bowl for snack later.

What are you looking forward to? Handing out candy tonight. I'm trying to look forward to it, anyway. The first few trick-or-treaters are awkward, but I'll probably be fine once things really get going.

What was the last new thing you did or tried (activity, food etc)? I guess the coffee cake was new…but it's not like I've never had some kind of coffee cake before. Just never one that I baked myself.

Jot down a current trending news story from where you live?

Man arrested after not following evacuation orders during Highland Lakes Fire.

National Transportation Safety Board releases findings on deadly I-25 train derailment.

CSPD seizes large-capacity magazine and rifle from man near Downtown Colorado Springs.

Pueblo set for another homeless encampment sweep, this time targeting 'The Jungle'.

Multiple Colorado counties experiencing issues with unscannable ballots.

The money behind the fight for recreational weed in Colorado Springs.

Do you have a passion? It's probably annoyingly obvious if you pay even a little bit of attention to my surveys.

A chore you ignored to do today? I was planning on dusting/vacuuming my room, maybe even washing my comforter, but eh. I might be taking either tomorrow or Saturday off, so it can wait until then.

Are you the type of person who is often in an off and on relationships? I would really only describe one of my relationships that way.

Did you tell the last person you had a crush on your feelings for them? Oh man, it's been a long time since I last had a measly little crush on someone, but yes, I did let her know. The feeling wasn't reciprocated.

Do you eat breakfast daily? Yep. I wouldn't be able to function without it.

What time will you be getting up tomorrow morning? If I go to the shelter, then I'll be up by 5:45am. If not, then I'll probably still get up around the same time anyway. I can't seem to sleep in to save my life.

What is your current annoyance? That damn tooth has started bugging me again.

Honestly, if you could go back 1 month and change something would you? I would go back to yesterday and reduce the bake time on my cake by a few minutes. It turned out a little dry, but I was terrified of it being underdone. Lesson learned for next time.

Is the room you are in right now clean or a mess? It's relatively clean.

What are you stressed out about? I'm not really all that stressed out about anything right now. Life has been blessedly chill.

What color is your hair? Brown.

Do you wear glasses? I basically only wear them when I'm driving. Otherwise, they just make me dizzy. I can't seem to get used to them.

Have you ever been around someone who was high? Plenty of times.

Do you currently have a hickey? No.

You want to get married? Maybe one day, if I met the right person.

Are you the type of person who has a new boyfriend/ girlfriend every week? No.

Have you talked to a complete jerk today? No.

Do you have a friend you can tell stuff to and you’re sure they won’t tell? Yeah. Even if Oliver did tell someone, it wouldn't make much of a difference. They live all the way in California and none of their family/friends know me.

Are you wearing socks right now? Socks and slippers.

Who was the first person you talked to today? My dad.

Are you a forgiving person? To a point. Especially if someone apologizes or attempts to change their behavior. If not, then…idk. I guess I'd just try to get over it. Not let it take up too much of my mental energy.

Are you a morning person or a night person? I am absolutely not a night person. I'm not really a huge morning person either. I can wake up early easily enough, but it takes me a bit to get up to speed.

Anything weird happen lately? Not that I can think of.

Met someone amazing in the past month? No.

Do you firmly believe that everything happens for a reason? In the very literal sense of cause and effect, sure. But in the sense that every experience is divinely orchestrated in order to teach me a lesson for my highest good? No. I think the lessons are something you create for yourself. You can frame what happened to you in any way you wish.

Are you starting to realize anything? That I might actually have what it takes to work at the animal shelter.

Last person to text you? It was a cattery group text from Natasha - reacting to a photo River posted of one of the kitties in his Halloween costume.

Do you prefer soy sauce or Teriyaki sauce? Teriyaki.

Where do you get your pizza? Domino's.

Are the pictures on your computer organized in folders? You could say that. You wouldn't be completely wrong, but you wouldn't be completely right either…

How many scars are on your arm? Somewhere between 15-20.

Do you understand Japanese text? I used to be able to "read" Hiragana - as in I knew what sounds the symbols made and I was able to recognize a handful of words and understand some simple sentences. I was nowhere near fluent, though. Unfortunately, I let my Japanese language practice fall to the wayside and I'm pretty much back to square one.

What are you saving up for? I'm just saving in general. Not for anything specific. Unexpected costs/emergencies.

What is your favorite chip brand? Probably Kettle or Miss Vickie's.

Do you apply to any contests advertised on drinks? No.

What is the most annoying sound you hear in the kitchen often? Kitchen sounds don't tend to bother me. I do wince whenever I scrape my silverware across a plate, though.

If you have a Facebook, is yours privatized? Why or why not? I don't have a Facebook account.

Can you cry on cue? What about laugh? Not right on cue, but I could probably dredge up some sad shit and work up some tears eventually. I could probably laugh on cue too, but it would sound incredibly forced.

Can kittens ever be ugly? Naw. Maybe "scrungly," like Kristen says, but never ugly. You should see some of our kitten baby photos at the shelter; some of them are pretty hilarious.

Can you count to three in German? Yeah.

What foods do you always put salt on? I don't add salt to anything.

Have you ever cheated at a card game? Yeah.

Tell me what colors you’re wearing right now? Black, dark blue, and dark gray.

Have you ever wandered around drunk with your friend? No.

Are you longing for the day that you’ll be an adult? (If you’re not already) I am an adult.

Have you ever felt like your heart actually stopped? No.

Are you a fast runner? No.

Do you have a “poker face”? Mmm. Maybe to an extent. I'm better at faking happiness/neutrality than I used to be, but I'm not entirely unreadable if you're paying attention.

Do any of your friends shamelessly burp or fart in public? Idk.

If you need a job, will you take whatever you can get? I'm actually thinking of applying at the animal shelter the next time there's an opening.

Time goes by faster as you get older, don’t you find? It does feel that way. Days, weeks, months, and even years seem to just disappear. Meaningful events are less distinct. I try to appreciate the moments while they last, but everything fades and blurs.

[castielcommunism]

fic recs

Alright let’s goooooooo. All of these are deancas to varying degrees, and most of them are one-shots. idk what technically counts as “underrated” in a fandom of this size but I tried to include fics that need waaay more attention than they’ve gotten.

Same Ghost Every Night | 3.0k | G

Purgatory fic!!! I have so much trouble finding good purgatory fic (if you have recommendations please hit me up). This is Cas POV. He listens to Dean’s increasingly desperate prayers each night and is sad about it. Very tasty.

Angels Americana | 2.2k | T

There is an ANGEL in our MOTEL ROOM, DEAN. Hoooooly shit this fic. It perfectly captures the spirit and aesthetic of season 4 - the title says it all. A biblical apocalypse is the backdrop to shitty motels and long stretches of driving. I quite literally cannot recommend this story enough. Sam gets mad that his brother is rotting the brain of an angel of the lord with daytime television. deancas is only very briefly mentioned and not the focus of this fic, but the prose and atmosphere are worth reading this fic regardless. If you want to experience the immaculate vibes of late kripke era without having to rewatch the show then read this.

HOW TO: BUILD A MAN | 1.8k | T

I am very particular about gender dean fics, and this one absolutely nails it for me. I was nodding along the entire time. many so true besties were uttered. the deancas banter in this is the icing on the cake.

The Future | 1.5k | G

quick and fun post-canon fic where dean and cas open a bar together. jo comes in and calls dean old. it’s very good.

Unsound Inverses | 27k (and counting) | E

Do you like extremely dysfunctional deancas? Are you a messy bitch who lives for drama? This fic is for you. The tags on this fic are no joke so read all of them. it’s very angsty, and you will want to hit Dean with a broom and also wrap him in a blanket and ask him if he’s okay, champ. This fic is maybe the most authentic recreation of Dean’s various mental health problems as seen on TV that I’ve read, and if you’ve ever had to deal with any sort of mania/high octane nonstop thoughts then this may be difficult to read, but I promise it’s worth it. 

Small Violences | 12.3k | E

This is a two-parter. It’s also very angsty, and criminally underrated imo. Mind the warnings on the fic as well (it’s tagged as mild dubcon but it isn’t really, it’s more so just miscommunication and repression shenanigans). dean and cas fuck and then don’t talk about it for like a month. it’s dysfunctional drama with a happy ending. My pitch for it is this line, which I have not been able to stop thinking about:

“I said I didn't want it,” Cas grinds out, “if it would be like this.”

root/offspring | 2.4k | G

Dean reads John’s journal and every time he does something changes in it. This is not a horror fic, but it has some very good unreality vibes to it that I enjoyed a lot.

walking on a string | 2.7k | M

RUN, DON’T WALK TO READ THIS FIC. This is set in s6, Cas takes some time off from losing a war in heaven to fuck Dean silly in various motel rooms. If you want tender deancas and off the shits angel stuff, read this and sign out of AO3 so you can give it kudos twice.

you’re holy to me | 5.1k | E

this is EXQUISITE cas pov. dean is overcome with lust for cas during a hunt. very explicit smut, if you’re looking for that then it’s extremely good, but my favourite thing about it is cas’ text conversation with jack at the end. also some very good dean praising cas during sex, which does not come up in fic nearly as often as it should.

light upon the water | 7.0k | G

dean and cas console jack after a nightmare. It’s very canon compliant and tackles what happens in s13 in what I think is a very even handed way without being overly depressing or damning.

the hand of your lover | 1.7k | T

VERY UNDERRATED, go give this lots of kudos. this is established relationship deancas. it’s very domestic and sweet, cas goes to the grocery store and dean cooks dinner. what more could you ask for.

Fair Weather Flying | 2.1k | G

this is the third time serenityfails is appearing on this list because I love their stuff sooo much. Dean and Cas go to a county fair and hang out. It’s pre-relationship but the pining is very sweet and it’s a fun time all around.

Dean Winchester Really Needs To Make Some Gay Friends | 2.2k | M

Exactly what it says on the tin. Dean muses about his gay feelings towards various men and Cas is NOT jealous at all about it.

[manonblaqkbeak]

How We Met

here it is, my last fic for rowaelin month! thank you so much to everyone that’s read, liked and commented on my fics, it’s been so much fun reading and writing these last four weeks! i’m glad to know that i’m not the only one that is in dire need of more rowaelin content (srsly, i would pay sjm a truck load of money for a strictly rowaelin book bc i miss them sm)

here’s part 4 for the little series i had going on. i was so tempted to make this an angst piece but held back lol.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

cw: none

1.8k words

enjoy and thank you again!!! :) 💕💕💕💕

Gathering the ingredients for the cake that she and Ophelia were going to make for Rowan, Aelin plopped them down on the kitchen counter and tied her and her six year old daughters hair back. Even in the kitchen light, Ophelia's hair was a vivid shade of silver and when she turned to look at her mother, the golden ring in her eyes were just as bright.

“Up, mama!” Ophelia asked, pointing to the step ladder that Olive made for her little sister in her woodshop class at school. Getting it off from atop the fridge, Aelin and Ophelia started their baking session for today. It wasn't often that Aelin baked cakes from scratch but it wasn't every day that her firstborn turned sixteen—not that Aelin could really comprehend that her Olive was sixteen—but Aelin wanted to do this for her, wanted to make something special.

She hoped that it wasn't going to taste as bad as the last cake she baked. Rowan had been sick afterwards and didn't go to work the next day.

That was five years ago, so surely with gaining wisdom as people said when others got older, her baking skills grew too.

“Where did everyone go?” Ophelia asked, her little tongue poking out as she helped Aelin sift the flour.

“To get dinner for tonight. We're having Ollie's favourite.” Which was cuisine from the Southern Continent, there was a restaurant that specialised in the spicy food, and Aelin couldn't wait—she and Rowan often tried to recreate their favourite recipes, but it was never right, so Olive wanted to have the genuine stuff for her birthday and not her parents shoddy attempts.

Not that Aelin could blame her.

They continued making the chocolate cake, Ophelia babbling on about her day at school, when her little one asked, “How did you and papa meet?”

Aelin blinked at the sudden question, but answered it nevertheless. “At the grocery store.”

Ophelia furrowed her brows, and with the way her nose scrunched up, she looked so much like Rowan that it made her heart sing. When Aelin first realised that she was pregnant, she was nervous, they had only been married for seven months and while they spoke about having a child of their own, she didn't think it would happen so quickly—but Rowan's enthusiasm melted away her fears. She would never forget his tears of joy when she showed him the pregnancy test, his beaming smile when they heard her heartbeat for the first time. Aelin would walk through hell, as long as Rowan was by her side, or waiting for her at the end.

It wasn't always perfect, however, they had their ups and downs like every long-term couple, they had moments where it felt like they were walking on tightrope, either because of their own personal issues or marriage issues, or when Egan was fourteen and completely lashed out at Aelin, accusing her of replacing his mother—but she worked with her son, telling him that she had never intended to do that, that Lyria would always be the woman that brought him into the world, and that Aelin was raising him. Her heart broke in two at his pain, but she understood, he grew up with photos and stories of Lyria.

Or when they had the awkward conversation when Olive was eleven and asked why she didn't look like Rowan, and Aelin had explained her story, about Sam being her biological father, but he had given them space for Rowan to raise her instead. That had lead to brooding silences and confusion, but otherwise, Olive still saw Rowan as her dad, but she did ask from time to time about Sam, what he was like and what he was doing (the last update Aelin received from him via email that his wife was pregnant with their second child. Aelin was so happy for him that he was able to have a family, a feat that was made easier since Arobynn had been dead for years by this point) and that she would like to meet him properly one day; Aelin had kept that to herself, not wanting to tell Sam in case Olive changed her mind—Aelin hoped that she wouldn't.

Overall, their life together was what she needed, she went to bed each night loved and fulfilled. It was better than what she might have had with Chaol all those years ago, she was fairly certain that if she had married him, it wouldn't have been a long marriage.

“How did you meet at the food store?” Ophelia asked, her brow still furrowed as she and Aelin stirred the cake batter. It surprisingly smelled good.

“I needed something from a high shelf,” Aelin said, “and I couldn't reach it. Your papa was only a few feet away from me, so I asked him to get it for me.” She might have also subtly ogled him as his shirt exposed his tanned skin, and Aelin had damned near swooned at the sight of his six pack.

“Did you get married at the food store?”

Aelin laughed at the question. “No, we got married at the beach. And then you arrived not long afterwards.” Sometimes they wanted another, but things financially were going so well that they didn't want to jeopardise that by adding another mouth to feed.

“Can you have another wedding?” Ophelia asked, looking at her mum with wide eyes. “So I can go? Please?”

“I'll talk to your daddy about it, but I like the sound of that.” Kissing her daughters forehead, they continued. Just as they were putting the cake in the oven and the icing mix in the fridge, the front door opened and three booming voices infiltrated the house and the mouth watering goodness of food.

Aelin's eyes widened at the amount of food that Rowan piled on the table. It looked like they were feeding a small army and not a family of five.

Ophelia helped her older brother set the table, Egan ruffing her hair as he recounted their little adventure to the restaurant.

As they sat down, Aelin mentioned Ophelia's request. Rowan pretended to mull it over as their daughter pleaded, giving her best puppy dog eyes. It didn't take for Rowan to relent—he really had trouble saying no to her—saying that a second wedding was a great idea.

Ophelia squealed in delight and squealed even more when food was placed in front of her (she was very much like Aelin in that regard).

“How did the conversation of another wedding start?” Rowan asked as they all started eating.

“Phia here wanted to know how we meet.”

Olive snorted. “Yes, the ever romantic story of meeting in the toilet paper aisle.”

“It was not the toilet paper isle!” Aelin protested. “It was the cereal aisle.”

“At least you kids have inherited my manners,” Rowan said, “your mother didn't even ask nicely. She just came over to me and said, 'You're tall, could you get that box for me?'” It had taken him a moment to realise he had been spoken to, too focused on deciding what box of porridge to get when Aelin showed up, wearing a faded band shirt and shorts, pointing to the box of cereal that had far too much sugar to be healthy. He had said 'yes' because it was the nice thing to do, and had stayed behind, talking to her for so long in the aisle that his vanilla ice cream had started to melt.

It was the best decision in his life back then, he never thought he would have gained a friend in the grocery store—and that the friend would become his wife.

“I have manners. I said, 'Excuse you' first before I told you what I needed.”

“That's not really using manners there, ma,” Egan said, smiling as poked her tongue out. He looked so much like Lyria that it was almost scary—he still loved flowers and plants too, and was currently studying to become a florist and then one day horticulture. The backyard was full of flowers and plants thanks to him, making into a little wonderland instead of the barren plain it used to be.

“I did say 'thank you' afterwards.”

“You said 'thanks',” Rowan interjected, laughing as Aelin threw a chunk of her flatbread at his head. Ophelia's cute laughter rent through the air.

“It's the same thing!”

“If you say so, love,” Rowan muttered, his lips twitching. Aelin rolled her eyes in the dramatic way Rowan was used to, but he saw the mirth behind the movement.

“Like I said Phie, it's very romantic,” Olive said drily, sounding very much like Rowan. She had even inherited his scowl, which she was wearing now as she sniffed at the air. “Is something burning?”

Aelin had never run so fast as she did right then, the kitchen filling with smoke as she took in the blackened cake. Swearing viciously under her breath, Aelin chucked the cake into the bin, apologising to Olive as she did so.

“It's okay, mum, dad got me an ice-cream cake earlier today anyway.”

Aelin narrowed her eyes at her husband, who simply gave her an innocent smile in answer.

Rejoining her family, they talked well into the night, helping Aelin to forget her failed baking attempt. Ophelia asked more questions about their time in the grocery store and how that moment lead to friendship, to pining for the other without realising it, to a life together.

And to think, Aelin almost didn't go to the grocery store that day.

Rowan thanked the gods that he had remembered at the last moment that he had no porridge left, otherwise, he might not have met Aelin at all. Might not have had this life, this family. Part of him would always be sad that things had gone so wrong with Lyria, and he would always miss and love her. But he learned in therapy that it was good to have a life, and Rowan was glad that he heeded that advice.

He thanked the gods all the time.

And thank the rutting gods he did right now for the umpteenth time that Aelin deemed him tall enough to get her food for her, to stay in that aisle with him as they got to know each other.

Rowan was a very happy man indeed as he and Aelin went to bed that night, the smiles still on their faces at Olive's unrestrained joy at the sight of the car they spent weeks looking at second-hand dealerships at, hunting for the perfect car for their daughter.

Thank the rutting gods for all those moments in the past, present, and future.

Rowan couldn't wait to marry her again, and neither could Aelin.

Life was good.

[outerspaceisbetterthannothing]

My Ultimate Reading List v2.0 Fics

A/N: As some of you have heard or seen, My Ultimate Reading List (in it’s original version) has crashed on desktop because of (as I realised trying to restore it) too big number of links, so I’m basically recreating the whole thing in a new format. This post goes for One Shots and Serieses. There’s one more post for Blurbs. I’m really sorry for the tag notifs for the people who has been tagged already in a previous version. Hope it’s not much of an inconvenience. I’m also not going to delete the first version of the list, as it’s been liked and reposted a lot of times, it’s still working on mobile, so some might still use it. But all the updates are going to happen only on this post, which I’m going to put in my bio instead of an old one.

So, this list was created because of my crazy urge to reread favourite fics and blurbs from time to time. It was made purely for me, but if it helps you to find a fic or a writer you’d love, I’d be only happy. I tried to make navigation easy. For blurbs links go to my reblogs, for oneshots and full lengths links go to the original posts. I try to check links from time to time, but if you see that some of them don’t work, please, hmu.

* stands for the implied smut

*** stands for the pure smut

This list is far from finished, that’s just the first things that came to mind and/or were reblogged. Still have a ton to add. So will update it every now and then.

NOTE, pls: There’s no Michael content here! And that’s not because I don’t like him or don’t appreciate him enough. I guess, it’s quite the opposite tbh. There’s no Michael content here because I appreciate him too much. I love this cute little kitten, he’s the most precious soul and, most of the time I think, there would be no 5sos without Michael Gordon Clifford. I just don’t have any fantasies or images of him in me, don’t see him in any way romantically. That’s why I don’t read (or write for that matter) about him as main character. I understand, that I miss a whole lotta great authors and fics because of that. Maybe it’ll change in the future. But for now, it is what it is.

Also HUGE SHOUT OUT TO THE PEOPLE WHOSE WRITING IS ON THE LIST - THANK YOU FOR THIS! THESE FICS AND BLURBS BELOW HAVE REALLY GIVEN ME ALL TYPES OF FEELS, INSPIRATION, MOTIVATION AND CONTENT. I’M FOREVER GRATEFUL FOR THESE WONDERFUL GIFTS YOU GAVE TO ALL OF US.

THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, WONDERFUL PEOPLE! ALL MY LOVE FOR YOU!

Oneshots

Ashton

Heartbeat by @gigglyirwin [Classic fluff and one of my all time faves]

Our Shining Star [Dad!Ashton] by @myloverboyash [Special thank you to @lashtoncurls for the tracking down the runaway author lol]

Blindfold*** by @cal-puddies​ [Cashton smut which is too hot for this world]

Ain’t nobody got a drummer like mine*** by @myloverboyash [Drumming and banging 👀 at the drum kit]

I Can Love You In The Shower*** by @myloverboyash [Cute giggly shower sex with a little bit of trauma]

Will We Always Be Pretending*** by @myloverboyash [Bff to lovers AND fake dating in one fic, what else could you wish for???]

Wherever You Are*** by @myloverboyash [childhood best friends to lovers]

Let Me Be The One To Save You pt 1 and pt 2 by @myloverboyash [prince!Ashton Au by which I am intrigued and I AM WAITING PATIENTLY, SKYLER, LOL]

Noticed Nights by @calpops [Artist!Ash and another masterpiece by Eve]

Calum

The Little Spoon by @gigglyirwin [Classic fluff] 

Valentine’s Day*** by @angelbabylu

Lucky Shot In Paradise*** by @cakesunflower [Bartender!Cal]

Heartbeat by @uncrownedqueeen [Dad!Cal]

All These Years by @felicitycal

Blindfold*** by @cal-puddies [Cashton smut which is too hot for this world]

No chemistry*** by @novacxlum [Heartbreakingly great college enemies to lovers]

Where were you in the morning?* by @snapbackcake [If this ultimately truthful but sad af one won’t make you cry, consider asking for help, because it’s too sad but also beautiful as hell]

Let me good to you*** by @snapbackcake [The description says it’s 6.8k words of absolute filth, and I have nothing else to add besides of what a great filth it is, so, 18+ kids]

Road Trip: Cake*** by @softforcal [Er, Cake threesome, idek what to say here]

Redamancy by @cakesunflower [Heart wrecking fluff]

Birthday Getaway by @etherealhood [Cuteness and romance overload]

Ghost of you by @myloverboyash [Super angst, prepare to cry your eyeballs out, and i’m still in my feels, Skyler, how could you???]

Picture this by @currentlyupcalsass [One of the best college au’s ever]

Best Friend’s Brother*** by @lukescaboose [Nerdy Cal and soft smut]

Another Ride*** by @babyloontrash [Another Cal smut which is like, really hot]

The Course of True Love Never Did Run Smooth*** by @i-calumhood [Wonderful enemies to fuck buddies to lovers with an asshole college!Cal]

Ice*** by @morningfears [Super hot enemies to lovers with hockey player Cal aka an ultimate dream]

Ka Hopena by @wildflowergrae​ [Soulmate AU, surfing and Hawaii, what else can you ask for?]

We Got That Good Love*** by @myloverboyash​ [Sex in the shower and like wet Calum)]

Balloon*** by @currentlyupcalsass [one of the most precious things I have ever read in my entire live! realisation of love to Calum of mc and absolute happiness for you]

First Concert by @ukulelecal [dad!Cal and kids visiting 5sos concert]

Eleven*** by @babyloontrash [fwb with breakfast]

Luke

Boyfriend’s little brother*** by @lukehemmingssmut  [There was also a second part promised, sooooo ^.^]

Fuck me like you hate me*** by @myloverboyash

Baby*** by @lukescaboose [Sweetest ever bff to lovers with soft boi Lu]

Hashimoto by @burncrashbromance​ [special for Disabled!Sos]

Full lengths and Serieses

Ashton

Hate sex Series*** by @irwinofficial Tell Me How Much You Hate Me, Our Kinky Secret, Good Enough, No Longer A Secret  [one of the best Ash smuts ever 👀]

Side chick*** by @cal-puddies [Beautifully filthiest smut with cheating, all the wrong choices and Cashton love triangle] part 1, part 2

Calum

Sugar Coated Pain by @cakesunflower [Boxer!Cal] [That’s what I lost my 5sos-fanfiction-virginity to, so, hey, Summer, thanks for the experience lmao]

Cigarette series*** by @cal-puddies [Best friend!Calum and a lot of hot smut 👀] Cigarette, Corona, Rolling Papers, Black on Black, Stuck [which was later replaced by the next part, but I’ll put it as long as it exists on the original list of parts, but don’t get confused], Navy Button Down, A Hotter Touch, Pancakes, The Second Thing, Ours, Losing You, Little toes, Holy Water, Date Night, Me, You and Little Hood, Five Years Later

Wherever you are by @mysticalhood [Long distance with Cal and tons of tears with me]

Dates With Cal by @calpops [this is so cute i higkey don’t want it to end like ever] First date, Second date, Second date pt, Third date, Calum cooking part one and two, The next evening, Cuddling and meeting guys, Worrying about ‘his girl’, Being her only guy, Meeting Mali, Soft nights, Talking about her family, Not everybody liking her, Tropical getaway, Being smitten around guys, Leaving talk, Night before the tour, Being away from each other, Cal coming home, Saying ‘i love you’, Cal being jealous of Duke, Watching her in the morning, Taking a bath together, Talking to guys about taking a next step, Grocery shopping, Asking her to move in, Choosing a house, Packing her stuff, Packing his stuff, First night in the new house, Unpacking, Finding out habits

Business Blurbs by @calpops [series of blurbs of Calum and Ash being owners of a record shop, Luke keeping an antique store and Mike having a bakery]

Masquerade Made by @calpops [fake dating college AU blurb series] First party, Fighting in a philosophy class

Veiled Valor by @calpops [pirate!Calum, runaway princess, heart wrecking mutual pining and writing style deserving 19th century prose] Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

Versace on the Floor by @singt0mecalum [Dad’s friend Calum, age difference and *supposedly* hottiest content] Intro chapter

[jacksgreysays]

Family by Mother Mother

They got my blood up in their veins I get a cut, they feel my pain They got my heart, they got my soul They know the stuff nobody knows When we're out for dinner we're cussing like sailors The people are staring and talking in whispers "Hey what's with the strange breed?" They is my family, they is my family They might be crazy, but they is my family You can't get to them unless you get through me You fuck with them you fuck with me And if you're standing on the ledge I'll pull you down, put you to bed And if you're bleeding from the heart I'll come around, and clean it up When we're at the party we're dancing on tables The people are staring like they got a peephole "Hey look at the strange breed" They is my family, they is my family They might be crazy, but they is my family You can't get to them unless you get through me You fuck with them you fuck with me A motley crew, a rodeo A goddamn zoo, a circus show But oh don't you know how it goes We are all walking each other home They is my family, they is my family They might be crazy, but they is my family You can't get to them unless you get through me You fuck with them you fuck with me They is my family, they is my family They might be crazy, but they is my family You can't get to them unless you get through me You fuck with them you fuck with me

anonymous: Family by Mother Mother for (They Call It) Soulless?

~

Chouza remembers the way she stood, small but strong, her little brother swaddled up and held precious and dear in her arms. Chouza remembers the way she spoke, voice wavering but words stern and firm and unassailable.

It was a time of grief for everyone, funeral arrangements as common a topic of conversation as the weather, but Chouza remembers this grief, this conversation so clearly.

"Together," Chouza remembers her saying, chin tilted up as she faced down a man who should have been kind to her, should have been supportive of her, should have been family.

"My parents will be together," she said, "If not here, then elsewhere."

Chouza remembers: she had looked so much like Yoshino--too much, perhaps, for the man she faced down--but her eyes had been as unflinching and relentless as Shikaku's.

And the man who was her uncle by blood but not by actions had turned away.

Chouza remembers the way she did not cry, did not look surprised, did not do anything else but nod, hold her brother ever closer, and walk away.

---

The apartment that Kako and Kamaru live in is rent controlled. In their neighborhood, the grocery stores and bakeries and restaurants --when Kako allows them the luxury--always give them a discount. Once a month, a still-warm tray full of gyouza will be delivered to them by a rotation of smiling, round-cheeked genin, and a birthday cake twice a year--one for her, one for him.

Family is not always blood.

---

Genma is a mess after the Kyuubi.

Many are, unsurprisingly. Loss abounds.

But a part of him wonders if his grief, selfishly, has more to do with a loss of purpose than anything--anyone--else. 

He atones by joining ANBU and killing as many enemies of Konoha as he can. After all, he's clearly useless at protecting people. Might as well put his real talents to good use.

Kakashi is not the only one on a path to self destruction, Genma is just more subtle about it.

As such, it's not surprising that someone else notices before Gai does.

Genma is sloppily wrapping bandages around his torso when he hears a knock on his door. His body is out of adrenaline, but it tries anyway, and it pulls painfully at nerves and muscles too shot to react.

He throws a shirt on--a little dirty, but not bloody, which is as good as it gets, really--and answers the door with his signature senbon in between his teeth. People think it's just an affectation, but he can spit it out fast and accurately enough to pierce through someone's eyeball into their brain.

It's the girl from across the hall. The one who has a little brother who looks so much like the former jounin commander even as a toddler. The one that the Nara won't look at, but gets Akimichi care packages all the same.

There's a plate of familiar smelling gyouza in her hands, and Genma realizes he hasn't eaten anything except ration bars for... months.

"We have too much," she says, "Did you want--"

Genma's stomach growls before she can finish.

Her smile is small, but no less sincere, "We also have a fully stocked first aid kit."

---

Kako Kinokawa is an exemplary student (not extraordinary, she knows better than to show too much, she can't allow herself to graduate too soon) but it's obvious where her interests lie.

She shrugs off written exams as if they were nothing, learns taijutsu kata by rote, and views genjutsu as amusing but limited puzzles. But ninjutsu is where she indulges herself, as close to magic as she knows at this time.

Her preference for ninjutsu doesn't decrease, but her shurikenjutsu skills improve dramatically.

---

Gai is not unused to being stared at when he runs through the village. Sometimes it's because of how he's running through the village--on his hands, with a ludicrous amount of weights, carrying four complaining turtles, for example--but he knows it's mostly for what he wears, how he presents himself.

He doesn't see why he should be anything but unabashedly himself. If other people stare at him, then that's on them.

But he knows that's not for everyone--every person is a unique flower and not all thrive so well in direct light, some need cooler temperatures and shade.

She holds her little brother's hand in one of her own, more comfort than guidance really, her other hand fluttering toward and away from the bandages on her face, back and forth. 

People stare, she shrinks, but when people do not look at her, her steps are smooth and her posture certain.

Gai does not approach her then--that would defeat the purpose, she does not want attention and he is self-aware--but if he maybe starts drafting a training regimen that he will, years from now, use for his own team of genin, well...

All flowers benefit from care.

---

Kako becomes a special jounin, the first confirmed Slayer in nearly fifty years. She is only fourteen years old, still a child in any culture but theirs, and yet she is Konoha's foremost expert on the world's greatest threat.

And that's not even her greatest responsibility.

Anko and Aoba invade their life as a pair, nearly as much siblings as Kako and Kamaru are. They tug on her braid and show her loopholes in bureaucracy, bring her to their favorite training grounds and drag her out to bars. Anko joins in on the morning stretches Kako had to recreate from memory, Aoba introduces her to the crows who all complain loudly and pointedly of how Aoba never summons them for fun things, only work.

Not long after, much to Anko's delight and Aoba's despair, Ibiki saunters in.

If Kako starts to wear long black coats after that, well, they match her scars.

---

The gyouza come every month, the birthday cakes twice a year, and they never have too much, just the right amount.

~

A/N: Merry Christmas! The ending’s very rushed because I realized I was taking a ludicrous amount of time and I had no idea what I was doing...

Uh. Hope you enjoy, anon!

[cooper--jones]

I Heart You

Betty stole Jughead’s groceries which somehow leads to them failing at baking together. (Based on recent Sprousehart activity).  Word Count: 1.4k ff.net

A/N: I nearly wrote Cole/Lili instead of Jughead/Betty so many times good lord. Guys this PR is getting too much. Anyway, thanks for reading! xD 

“Wow, Jughead, did you really buy lettuce?” Archie asked, pulling out the whole lettuce that Jughead had brought back from the grocery store. Apparently going shopping with Betty meant bringing back stuff that actually needed cooking and wasn't just microwave pizza. Jughead groaned, looking at the lettuce disdainfully.

“Betty said I needed to eat healthy. Something about never seeing me eat anything but burgers and onion rings,” he replied and Archie laughed.

“Well I'm glad you're dating her, man. I mean, look at all this stuff!” Archie exclaimed, overturning the rest of the contents onto their dining table. Out fell beans, potatoes, tomatoes, peas, onions, chicken, and slim milk. “You'd think we'd need to feed an army or something. Also, slim milk? I didn't realise you were watching your weight, Jug,” Archie said, chuckling. Jughead rolled his eyes and picked up the milk.

“This is for her – not us. I'll run down and give it to her,” he said, exiting their flat. Once outside, he thought about the contents on the table and smiled for a moment before shaking his head and going down to where Betty lived with Veronica. The latter was out of town for the weekend. Something about her dad. At this point, Jughead had taught himself to tune out whenever Veronica mentioned her father.

Out of habit, he opened the door without knocking and heard something crash in the kitchen.

“Betty?” He called out, uncertainty and worry colouring his tone. There was complete silence for a few moments before she responded.

“Yeah?”

“You okay?” He began walking towards the kitchen. Hardly had he taken two steps in its direction when a flour-covered Betty Cooper came running out, apron undone and flapping around her as she bounded toward him.

“Don't go there!” She screamed and collided with him. The milk fell, split open, and spilled all over the floor. Betty looked at it and her face crumpled with embarrassment and anxiety. “Veronica's going to kill me. We just had the floors redone.”

“Didn't you move in last week?”

“Yeah turns out her dad is super generous,” she said, rolling her eyes and going back into the kitchen. Ignoring her instruction, Jughead followed.

To say that the kitchen was a mess would have been an understatement.

It was as if Betty had single-handedly recreated the party she had thrown at Archie's house all those years ago. Except the spilled alcohol was replaced with spilled flour and broken eggshells. Betty grabbed the washcloth and turned around to find Jughead staring at her in disbelief. Her cheeks heated up with an even deeper embarrassment as she waited for his reaction. To her surprise and relief, Jughead began laughing.

“What the fuck happened here?” He managed to choke out in between guffaws.

“I was trying to bake a cake. Apparently, I'm not very good at literally anything in the culinary area. I was going to bake a cake and bring it up for you because of how hard you tried to get me to eat healthy. Sort of like a “suck it!” moment. But then,” she hesitated and motioned to the mess in the kitchen, “this happened.”

“You wanted to bake a cake?” He asked, incredulity evident in his voice. Betty nodded mutely, waiting for the sarcastic quip that usually followed such questions. Instead, surprising her again, he walked over to the hooks where the aprons hung and, taking Veronica's apron, put it.

“Well, then. Shall we begin baking the cake, Betty Cooper?”

Turned out baking with Jughead was a lot more fun. Unfortunately, a lot more fun also meant that it took a lot longer than it would have otherwise. It meant batter on each other's noses. Trying to sneak batter behind each other's backs. Throwing eggs at each other (and wasting four perfectly good eggs in the process) and eating whipped cream straight out of the can.

Finally the cake was in the oven and so the couple disappeared into the bedroom to have a different kind of fun while the cake baked.

The timer rang and Betty and Jughead came back into the kitchen, taking out the cake. Eagerly, Betty poked a toothpick into it... only to discover it was still raw in the centre.

“What the hell?” She said, staring at the runny centre in disbelief. Jughead's face fell. Clearly they had both seriously believed that this was going to be a success.

“What do we go now?” Jughead asked, taking his turn at examining the batter-covered toothpick.

“I don't know... Google it?” She said, looking at him unsurely. He nodded and she grabbed her phone, typing in:

middle of cake not cooking.

“Apparently we just need to stick it in the oven for longer,” she said, skimming the first result she got. Jughead nodded and put the cake back in the oven. Once again, they disappeared into Betty's bedroom. After all, it was rare that Veronica left them alone.

When they returned to the kitchen and Jughead said, “Okay, now we need to talk about you switching the grocery bags. You can't do this every time we buy groceries, Betty – I'm starting to lose my reputation as the most unhealthy one in the group.”

“Okay but Juggie you had marshmallows in your bag!”

“Do you truly believe that I wouldn't want to give my marshmallows to you? To the woman I love? Betty, I would give you the entire packet. I just need to be the one who owns it.”

“Sounds like a pile of fragile masculinity BS to me,” she replied shrugging and Jughead rolled his eyes, yet unable to hold back a smile. It had only taken a week for Betty to be this relaxed. A week away from her family and already her ponytail was becoming looser. He was about to respond to this when they smelled burning.

“What's – oh fuck!” Betty whipped open the oven and smoke billowed out. Coughing, she waved her hand in front of her face and reached in to take out the cake. The top was black – completely burnt. It had gone down the sides to some extent too, taking away nearly a fourth of the cake.

“Betty, I'm so sorry,” he said, shaking his head at this tragic sight. Betty didn't say anything. She simply stared at the cake for a while. Then, just as Jughead was going to propose saying some words before throwing it in the trash, Betty announced, “I can salvage it.”

“If you say so,” he replied, smiling at her enthusiasm at knowing how to save the cake. She disappeared to the other side of the kitchen for a few moments, only returning to take the icing. Jughead tried to sneak up on her a few times to see what she was doing but everytime, without so much as a glance in his direction, Betty would say his name in a warning I-know-what-you're-doing tone and he would guiltily skulk away to his side of the kitchen.

Twelve minutes later, Betty announced, “Okay – it's done!”

“Brilliant. What is?” He asked and she rolled her eyes, smiling at him and bringing the cake back. If you could still consider it a cake. It was more like a cookie made out of cake batter at this point. The surface was completely flat and Jughead was sure that there were fingers fatter than the thickness of the cake. But somehow, this was all okay because of the orange icing on the cake which read:

I ♡ YOU

“You... heart me?” Jughead asked, a smile playing along his lips.

“Mhm. Yeah – that's exactly what it says. I swear, Jughead, sometimes I wonder why I even do things for you.”

“I think I know why,” he said, his smile widening.

“Why?”

“Because, Betty Cooper, you heart me,” he said and started laughing. Betty rolled her eyes but couldn't hold back a smile.

“I guess you're right. But, let's be clear, you heart me, too.”

“How could I not?” He said and kissed her. Betty took this opportunity to take some frosting off the cake and, when they pulled apart, she put a large dollop on the tip of his nose, giggling. Jughead retaliated with his own finger of frosting.

Both were careful not to touch the heart and so, by the end of it, all the cake had was a ♡ on it.

[sweettsubaki]

About the ultimate ship meme - how do you feel about starting it with Tim & Kon?

Ho Ho, you know how to pander to my interests :D

About this

General:

Rate the Ship -  Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OTP to rule all other OTPs

How long will they last? Forever

How quickly did/will they fall in love?Over the years. Like there’s a layout since the beginning, the way they’re always calling out to each other than indicates a passion that could possibly one day turn into romance, but that’s it. Imo It started between the moment Kon started to live with the Kent and the end of the preboot (and I do mean started, they basically had 2 years for the friendship to turn romantic). Nothing happened the feelings were really there and it was actual romantic love instead of just having romantic feelings for the other (mostly because I don’t think they’ll realize it’s not just friendship until…a little while).I honestly don’t see them get together until they’re 19-20 at least 

How was their first kiss? I have so many different hc for that one. One of my favorite is just that they started kissing each other on the cheek when they’re going back home or something (like “Gotta get back to Ma, See ya later guys” *bends slightly to kiss Tim on the cheek ‘cause he was just there, because they’re almost always next to each other*) and like at one point it turns into a peck on the lips. And they don’t realize it happened until the next time they do it because then there’s someone with them who just gets completely shocked and it just…hits them.

Wedding:

Who proposed? I don’t know? I think it just might have come up in a conversation and neither actually remembers who proposed. (I can also see them going a lifetime always forgetting to pop up the question ‘cause they’re already married in their mind)

Who is the best man/men? Dick and Bart obviously

Who is the braid’s maid(s)? Cass and Cassie. People make fun of that…a lot.Maybe Barbara and Roxi too.

Who did the most planning? The Wedding Planner, Ma and Bart. DO NOT leave these two to plan anything

Who stressed the most? Either Both or Neither. I don’t think they’d see it as such a big deal. The hardest part would probably be if they did a civilian and a hero wedding.

How fancy was the ceremony?  Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.I’m torn because on the one hand neither wants to do something big, on the other hand, they’ll probably do something a bit fancy to please other people and/or the paparazzi. I’m not sure how religious Conner is but Tim isn’t so I didn’t pick the 5th one for obvious reasons.

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding? I’m not sure if there’s anyone who they specifically don’t want at the wedding. Maybe Jason? But he and Tim are on relatively good terms by the end of the preboot but not enough to invite him anyway so…

Sex:

Who is on top? they’re probably versatile

Who is the one to instigate things? Probably depends on the moment?

How healthy is their sex life? Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now I’d say healthy but I honestly try to never think about it so… (also this seems to be “do they have a high libido” rather than actually thinking about how healthy their sex life is)

How kinky are they? Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head Literally no idea. so I’m shooting in the dark (no awful pun intended)

How long do they normally last? Considering their training/Genetics they probably have a lot of stamina so…

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms? Probably yeah. They might have a contest as to who gives more to the other though

How rough are they in bed? Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it.Probably depends on their state of mind

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do?  No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory.

Children:

How many children will they have naturally? lol (unless you think of them using the cloning devices Tim tries to use to recreate Conner, that Cadmus had used to create him in the first place…then I guess…like…1)

How many children will they adopt? Depends on the story I have in mind. I think they’ll only adopt if a child comes their way looking devastated (on of the rare things I think Tim shares with Bruce). I’d say between 0 and 3.One is Helena (yes Catwoman’s daughter…Let’s just say that stuff happens and Tim finds her and she’s been very fond of red and black since she was a kid, so she latches on to him…they never leave each other’s side after that).Another one is totally @Chonaku-Things’ fault with her AU where Tim ends up taking care of Koonak (Mr Freeze’s adopted kid in the Batman cartoon) while Mr Freeze accepted to do his time in Arkham.And another kid whose name I keep changing so I’m gonna call them Maïte ‘cause I like the meaning (also it was my mom’s name so it helps :p).Also knowing that they already have Bart.

Who gets stuck with the most diapers? Both. They find a way to share the task equally (as in they try to get the other to do more and end up doing the same amount)

Who is the stricter parent? Depends. Tim’s stricter for the basic “but you could hurt yourself” stance, where Conner’s much more of an “I’m telling you it’s a bad idea but you can try it, I’ll just be behind you the whole time, making sure you’re okay” parent for basic injury related stuff. Other than that, Kon is stricter on basic health like food, or doctors, he gets scared when there’s a tiny bit of a cough starting anywhere in the household. The rest of the time they either alternate or are as strict/lenient as the other and they always make sure to listen to the other’s reasoning and come to a compromise if need be.

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school? Tim, though he doesn’t stop them so much as encourage them to go the less dangerous route “sneakily” (the kids realize it half the time but humor him ‘cause they love being protected from this kind of stuff).They’re both adamant that none of their kids become vigilantes until they’re at least 16-18 though. 

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)? Conner

Who is the more loved parent? Depends on the kids. Usually, it’s both because like ½ the kids I envision were under Tim’s care before he adopted them (he’s a foster parent in half my post-Reboot AUs, go figure) and before he got together with Kon and they just adopted Kon as a second parent along the way.

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings? The one who’s free at the moment (so probably Tim 3/5th of the time)

Who cried the most at graduation? Neither but they hugged their kids so much they all got bored and started communicating with their sibling with their eyes, trying to get them off their backs.

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law? Neither really. They’re both pretty honest people who raised honest kids….If the kids are in trouble and they did something they should own up to it however if the law picked on them unjustly (because they’re kids or PoC, or were just at the wrong place at the wrong time), they’ll both raise hell. (In my mind Kon goes on to get a law degree ‘cause he likes finding loopholes so he’s pretty helpful on that side, but Tim has the money so…).

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking? Both. Conner was very adamant in lessening the amount of Junk Food Tim eats because of his asplenia though.

Who is the most picky in their food choice? They’re kind of the same about that one. They each have their No Go Food.

Who does the grocery shopping? Whoever has the time when stores are open….Tim most probably

How often do they bake desserts? At least once a week. Since their Time Table doesn’t always match the one who’s free tries to make something for the other. It becomes a tradition when they have kids to bake a small cake for the other parent to show that they all miss him.

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater? meat lovers. Both of them? Though Conner always feels bad ‘cause he’s helped with the Kent farm and he knows Cows are total sweethearts.

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner? Both, but neither is actually surprised since they know the other’s tells. It kinda becomes a game over the years that they alternate who plans what and to try and plan something without the other guessing what exactly (the use of specific gear or powers can or cannot be allowed depending on what kind of anniversary they’re celebrating. It’s a lot of stress, frustration and ultimately a very fun part of their lives)

Who is more likely to suggest going out? Both. Again it really depends. Tim’s more of a social butterfly but he probably wants to enjoy his bf’s company in the comfort of their home when he can because of their clashing timetables. So Conner might be the one to actually suggest it because he knows Tim would actually enjoy it.

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidentally while cooking? Both are easily distracted so….

Chores:

Who cleans the room? Conner doesn’t have the choice, if he doesn’t, Tim never will.

Who is really against chores? Tim (Conner’s a close second but someone has to be firm…that someone is Bart)

Who cleans up after the pets? Both

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug? Both, but especially Tim.

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over? Conner

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning? Both did, they don’t know where they come from, they’re this close to thinking their apartment makes money magically appear (they both rationally know it probably comes from Tim’s or Bruce’s pockets but it’s less fun to think about)

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths? Both

Who takes the dog out for a walk? Both, they take Krypto out together, ‘cause they use the opportunity for a romantic flight

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays? Whenever they can, it helps them feel normal.

What are their goals for the relationship? Just be happy together

Who is most likely to sleep till noon? Tim

Who plays the most pranks? Both

[winterbuckytho]

MEANWHILE, IT’S CALM ⁽ᵖᵃʳᵗ ²⁾ : THE CHERPUMPLE CHALLENGE

Pairing : Recovering!Bucky X Reader

Wordcount : 2395

Warnings : SFW, PTSD, Depression, Fluff…Fluff Everywhere

Plot : A slice of life with Bucky in his current living situation.

A/N : This was going to be the next morning from part 1 but, I decided to cut it to shorten the story trying to figure out if people prefer short or detailed stories. I guess my readers like long stuff so, this is probably the shortest I’ll go. Enjoy!

“Goddammit!” His chrome fist crackled with electricity less than a millimeter from the mirror’s surface and he strained against himself, wanting to punch and knowing it wouldn’t do any good.

“Who the fuck are you?!” He wailed. “What are you?! What are you even doing?! I want my life back, I want my self back!!”

Bucky dropped his arm and grasped the rim of the sink. “Who the fuck am I now?” He questioned the silence.

Ever since coming to in that garage, his head had been just swirling in a vortex of memories. Everything about what happened was awful including the way he now appreciated not knowing, not remembering; just following orders and completing his purpose. He could remember teaching other assassins with confidence, killing with no qualms, accepting their lies for so so long.

When he thought about that feeling after a jolt from the Mind Crown, that fresh, alert, empty blank clean feeling, he felt a vertigo and nausea so strong he spent most of the morning vomiting and wanting to just…be put back to sleep. 

Which made everything worse, considering everything Steve had gone through for him.

He knew that it wasn’t he, himself, Bucky, that had done those things, that he’d literally had no control over his body, But being in the back seating watching it all was so sickening… so many of them had no idea he’d be coming, he has so many memories of ending peoples lives, easily, like flipping a switch and shutting off the lights.

And of all the things they can do now-a-days, time travel is still a no-go, so there was no returning to the Bucky he was before enlisting. He would just have to live with it, live and know he’ll never be that Bucky Barnes again (’…there’s no going back’  a malicious voice in his head whispers, ‘you can’t get it back…’), live with it all inside him, live and carry all the memories with him each day from now until…

“I gotta do this…I gotta do this for him.” Bucky breathed. ’Take deep slow breaths.’ he thought. He closed his eyes and pictured Steve’s honest and beautiful face. That smile that just radiates with joy.

Maybe things can’t be the way they were and maybe they’ll never be perfect. But maybe things can be…ok. If he can push away the dark in his head, focus on that light Steve stands in, focus on the things that light up with positivity around Steve, he’ll never have to be alone with it all and that’s worth something, right?

But Steve is unavailable right now, he’s off doing even more for Bucky, negotiating his return to the US. All Bucky has is Y/N. He gives thanks to goodness for Y/N. You have fun, get along well, you have some much in common in the most unlikely ways, but he always wonders how much of being close to him is too much. Is he making your job harder, do you think of him as a client, a patient, a subject or a friend?

You’re currently lovers and Bucky knows Steve wouldn’t be mad about that. But how much can he depend on you and still call himself a man?

He shakes his head and turns on the water. The last time he made a comment like that around you, you turned on him stridently and said “Hey, you deserve good mental health just like anyone else. Yes, even men need help time to time. I know you grew up in a different time but, all that I’m-so-manly-I-eat-trauma-for-breakfast stuff is only hindering you.”

He’s rinsing his face when you knock on the doorjamb. You came over here because your aware this is one of Buck’s bad days. You’ve known each other a short while, but since you sleep together often you know while he loves sleeping, mornings can be hard for him.

He says it’s like being a tv that’s been turned on with the volume and the brightness all the way up in a dark quiet room. Waking in cryo is different, you drift up instead of off, he explained. The disorientation is so bad some days it takes him about three hours to roll out of bed, groom, eat and all the while having spells of vertigo and nausea.

“Bucky?” You say quiet and reassuring, “I’ve got some ginger tea when your ready.”

The water shuts off and the door opens. His dark hair is a literal bird’s nest of a mess, it looks like he started to comb it then gave up. His almost turquoise eyes are red and puffy. He’s a big man but he somehow crumples into himself when he isn’t feeling well, appearing short an stocky instead of tall and thick with muscle on an athletic frame. Bucky wears a pair of socks, grey lightweight sweatpants, an undershirt and a long sleeved thermal shirt. One of his pant legs is pushed up to his shin and on that same side he’s slowly losing a sock, which is a 1/4 of the way off his foot laying floppily in front of his toes. He’s pale and looks so miserable you could laugh with how much he projects how he feels without words; you’ve never seen anything that needed a hug more.

“Here,” You say, “Come on, let’s go to the kitchen. I want to show you something.”

You push the warm mug into his hands, which he takes eagerly. He’s learned the power ginger has over stomachs and welcomes it. You lead him by the elbow to the kitchen, he slips on to a stool and you walk behind him rub his shoulders lightly in a reassuring gesture. You brush your fingers through his hair loosening tangles and then use the hair tie on your wrist to pull it up into a bun piled on the back of his head.

“Bucky, wanna make a cherpumple today?” You ask, sitting down to your coffee beside him. His accent isn’t too pronounced, but it’s rubbing off on you any way.

He moves his head back just moving his neck, a movement that says ‘Say what!?’

“Make a what-what?” He asks, startled out of his sour mood. He literally can not tell what a cherpumple is or how it’s made. He in fact has never heard the word before now.

You turn around your phone in it’s holder and play the preloaded video. He doesn’t speak the entire time it plays, he just watched the young woman following through her recipe, sometimes shaking his head and sometimes making a closed mouth noise, “Uhnt Uhnt Uhn” that universal sound for 'What a shame’.

When it’s done he sips the hot tea and says, “That’s a terrible mee-mee. I don’t think that joke is funny. People waste so much these days, you guys take all this food for granted, Y/N!” He looks at you with a look in his eye like fatherly disappointment.

You shake your head slowly. “It’s not a prank, Bucky. It’s a real recipe and we are going to make one for Bruce’s birthday party. If we do it now and take it with us–"You start to say.

"Take it in what, a  wheelbarrow? It’s enough cake for 50 people!” Bucky interjects hotly.

You laugh and say “Your exaggerating and it will be for about 30 people.”

“You’re actually serious!?” He almost shouted back.

“Yes!” You say emphatically,“Besides you could stand to do something recreational. It’ll be fun.”

He flashes a charming grin. “Listen sweet pea, all you had to do was ask. My mind may be a little off kilter, but my body don’t quit and there ain’t ever been anythin’ wrong with my libido, baby.” He’s leering a bit and if a modern man tried this it would be disgusting, but this guy…

You roll your eyes and say, “I mean fun outside the bedroom. You know, I’m starting to wonder if this is really because you just don’t know how to cook and don’t want to embarrass yourself.”

When he’s feeling stubborn nothing gives him a boot to the ass like a mild challenge. Sometimes you’re sure he learned it from Steve.

He crooks an eyebrow and says,“I’ll have you know, I can cook and I cook really good. It may have been ladies work to the upper classes but in poverty finding enough food is work for everyone; kids, women, the elderly. Everyone chipped in and yeah, even little boys helped with cooking. I’ll have you know some more, I can cook Spanish, Italian, Jewish, Polish and Irish foods in circles around you. Let’s go to the grocery store!” He’s already rolling up his sleeves.

Bucky’s eyes are sparkling a bit. His color has come back and he seems like he’s broken out of the funk he woke up in. Your heart soars every time you can distract him from the pain he is in. Mostly it’s such a pleasure to be with him, you feel so lucky sometimes that it’s a gift to you to be of help. He makes you feel like such a good person and you love doing the same for him. 

You wish he didn’t need it, that he could wake up and just love himself one day, but you know it doesn’t work that way. He’s got to fight every inch now for everything positive he wants. It’s up to the people in his life to help him equip himself and you’re honored to be one of those people. He’s so beautiful and it hurts your heart that he can’t see it.

“Yeah, let’s cook this monstrosity! I stocked all the ingredients last time I went to the grocery, so what do you say, we’ll put on some music. I promise when you taste it, you love it.” You say with a giggle.

You start laying things out and he just can’t help himself, immediately making comments like “That’s almost the whole dozen!” and “That much cinnamon, how’s that supposed to tasty?!” But then you put on the radio and his mood further shifts from ‘We-can’t-do-this’ to ‘Let’s-do-this!’.

You measure and he mixes, pausing sometimes between ingredients to do a little swing dance move, crossing his right foot behind his left and doing a little twirl in place to the late 70’s tunes coming from the speakers. At one point he threw his hands up and did a little bouncing thrust move to Everybody Dance by Chic. You burst out laughing, you never seen someone this confident in their dance moves.

“What!?” Bucky says smiling, startled out of his groove.

“Nothing!! I’m sorry. It’s just really great seeing this kind of dancing.” You say measuring flour for the next batch of cake batter.

He uses his the back of his hand, silicone spatula still in it, to brush at a spot on his cheek leaving behind a lil’ patch of white there. “Oh, yeah, dancing was a huge past time in those days. There were so many kinds, it was really wild.”

“That’s sounds great. I’ve got a feeling you got a lot of music to catch up on, huh?” You reply helping him pour the spice cake batter over an apple pie in one of the three pans; 1 down, 2 to go.

“Oh, yeah. So far I’ve heard something of Queens of the Stone Age, Nine Inch Nails and Deftones, which, well, I guess you could dance to those but may be a different sort of dancing.” he says flattening the batter over the pie.

You try to imagine Bucky listening to the slightly erotic desert rock of QOTSA and you get images of him pulling some pole dancer-esque Magic Mike moves. You feel three pulse-like throbs below the waist and blush so hard you can feel it making your forehead tingle. You take the bowl and rinse it at the sink so you guys can start mixing the vanilla cake.

You get that one set up with more pauses for dance moves from the both of you and you wash up the measuring and mixing implements getting them ready for the next cake, the white with a cherry pie inside.

You take a quick break between mixing the next cake; he has some more tea and a scone, you have coffee and a cup of yogurt. Before returning to the kitchen you switch up the music going with an instrumental pop Pandora station. Bucky removed his long sleeve and just wears a sleeveless undershirt with his sweats.

The cooking is a bit quieter this time, the two of you enjoying the piano version of Heroes by David Bowie. You find yourself watching his every move at times like these. His strong dexterous hands gently distributing the ingredients as he mixes, the muscles in his neck shoulders and arm flexing and uncoiling smoothly, his other arm, for all it’s fluidity and seamless movement still existing in the uncanny valley, it whirs softly and clicks as metal plates shift and brush each other, the mild attentive look on his face, his bright lovely eyes catching the light, the faint upward tilt to the corners of his mouth.

Once each cake and pie are settled in their pans, you set timers for when the baking should be done and another for when to rotate two cakes from the bottom to the top and you settle in to watch Planet Earth. Bucky falls asleep part way through and you let him snooze whilst checking the cakes till they’re done. When they are, you set them on racks to cool. 

As you do you hear Bucky’s breathing quickening and sharpening: a sure sign he’s having a tough time waking up.

You mute the tv and rush to his side, take his right hand in yours and put your hand to his cheek. In a quiet calm voice you say, “Hey, everything’s ok, take your time. You are safe, there are no threats. You fell asleep watching some nature documentaries. You’ve been sleeping about 25 minutes. You’re lying on the couch in the parlor of your suite in Wakanda. Take a deep breath for me. Do you smell that? It’s the cakes we were baking. Breath slowly and open your eyes when you are ready.”

His breathing slows and he squeezes your hand in his right. He squeezes hard at first, almost on the verge of panic. He takes in your words nodding, still unable to speak. He slowly opens his eyes a little by little taking quick peaks at your face, reassured no one has come to drag him off to the Mind Crown as you’ve learned what the Russian memory erasing device is called. He’s always afraid on waking up that he’ll be there being wiped again and given a new mission that, even if he refuses, his body may just carry out anyway.

He lies quietly just holding your hand, looking around a little then closing his eyes for a few seconds. His grip loosens slowly and he takes in a shuddering long breath.

“Ughk, hate that feeling.” He croaks. Tears squeeze out from under his eyelashes and roll down the creases at the corner of his eyes.

“It’s ok. There’s no right and wrong way to experience trauma and it’s after affects. I’m here for you, so you don’t have to do it alone. Do you need ginger tea?” You respond.

“No, my stomach seems ok. It’s so bright, though.” He says.

You smile a little. “Sorry, Buck. We can’t turn the sun down, but I’ll go draw the shades. Just let yourself adjust here, don’t sit up yet, just ground with your senses for a few minutes, ok?”

“Y/N, thanks. Thanks for your help.” He says, sniffing and clearing his sinuses.

You walk over to the windows and balcony, shutting out some of the light. “Hey, no problem. I am here to help.” You come back to the couch, help him sit up a bit so you can squish in and rest his head on you leg.

“I know. And I think I need so many things, so  m-much help and your job kinda confuses me, how much of this is work to you? How much is us?” He says as he does you can sense him becoming sullen.

“Aww, come on. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to. Yes, some of my work over laps with the things I do for you because I want to. But put it this way, I get my cake and get to eat it, too. They pay me to do what I love.” You say, brushing hair from his squinting eyes.

“Me?” He asks with a little smirk, his voice a little raspy, lifting both arms and wrapping them around your waist in a strange semblance of a hug. If he were standing up he’d be carrying you over his left shoulder as you held on to his head and face with your knees bent behind his head. The image is so silly to you, you smile down at him.

“Yeah, you.” You answer leaning down and kissing him in an upside down and slightly sideways kiss.

[thetaleofthecedartree]

24, 40 and 46 for both Godfried and Grimm please :33

Thank you for the questions @thefangirllifeisgonnakillyou!

24. In their own words, how would your character describe what their lover is like?

Grimm

 “Heh, I’m gonna say Godfried’s ambitious and… “stubborn as hell”.  Yeah, that pretty much sums him up.  And he's definitely a stickler for detail.  I can't even walk out of the house without him straightening my tie or fixing my hair. You’re kind of on the edge of your seat when you’re out in public with him, because you never know who he’s going to criticize.  For instance, going to restaurants together can be a nightmare.  There’s not a single occasion I can recall where he hasn't sent back his food.  I do feel bad for the waiters, but at least he tips rather well.  

See, he's not as bad a guy as people say.  He calls himself “a bitch in male skin” but underneath he's just a big softy with an affinity for light-hearted musicals and Disney movies. No joke.  He'd slap me for saying that.  I mean the guy even wants kids, so he can't be that bad.  This “cold-hearted” personality you see is just a shield he put up to hide the fact he was bullied as a kid, not to mention the rocky relationship he had with his father.  So he's human just like everyone else.  And like all humans he has flaws, which, in my opinion, is the best part of a person.  He’s not the stiff plastic Ken doll people often refer him to. He's just Godfried.”

Godfried

“Well, with Grimm it certainly wasn't “love at first sight”. I wasn't in the least bit attracted to the man and that is the irrefutable truth.  Anyone will tell you I prefer the rugged type, not greasy-haired, scraggly men. In fact, my first impression of Grimm was that he was some kind of drug-addicted hooligan. I even invited him into my house on the condition that he mustn’t steal anything of value… salt shakers, fine, but if he touched the duvet then he would really have it coming.  He was obviously affronted by my suspicion, but he made no fuss.  And that's partially what makes him so agreeable: he’s easygoing.  He always has been, apart from the occasional objection.

But to Grimm’s credit, he is truly something special and you’d be surprised how much potential he harbours as a human being.  It's frustrating how modest he is about it.  Behind that “punk boy” front there's so much knowledge and so many hidden talents.  I can honestly say the man is more cultured than I am, and don't ask me how that's possible.  It just is.  And despite his appearance he's actually the most genuinely sweet man you’ll meet. Truly. It's admirable.  When he says he ‘cares’…he means it.”

40. Does your OC have any guilty pleasures they enjoy? Hobbies, past times, music, etc that they wouldn’t want known by others?

Grimm

Grimm’s ultimate guilty pleasure is Napoleon cake.  As for pleasures he wouldn't want disclosed to the public…

Grimm, before he met Godfried, used to go dumpster diving, partially out of habit to survive and partially for recreation.  He found pleasure in doing it since occasionally he’d find interesting old gizmos.  It was also extremely useful because grocery stores have a tendency to throw out food in bulk.  Hence that saved him the cost of groceries on a weekly basis.

As for unfortunate hobbies, Grimm, when he has nothing better to do, will make simple but pointless Rube Goldberg machines which do nothing but clutter the house.  

And the last one I'll share, which will probably weird you out the most: Grimm enjoys the feeling you get when you sneeze, and sometimes tries to make himself sneeze on purpose.  Perhaps he likes it because it's supposedly the closest thing to death he’ll ever experience…that is until that theory about one’s heart stopping was rebutted.

Godfried

Godfried has a quite a long list of guilty pleasures, and some of them have been mentioned in previous posts, so I'll just list a few:

- Godfried watches porn, despite the bad production value (particularly gay porn featuring black men – he really has a thing for black men)- Godfried drinks daily and sometimes drinks in the morning – a horrible habit introduced by his mother.- If he has a bad day, Godfried eats ice cream straight out of the container while binge watching Netflix.  (Ben and Jerry’s ice cream is his favourite brand)- Godfried watches cheesy 50s and 60s musicals, and enjoys watching chickflicks even though he considers them a “blow to his male ego”.- When Godfried is alone, doing chores or cooking, he’ll sing and dance using any available utensils for his “imaginary” microphone.

Those are just a few I can think of at the moment.

46. What is some random affectionate thing that your character always does to their lover?

Grimm

Godfried has a habit of taking power naps throughout the day, so in order to align their sleeping patterns, Grimm will snuggle up beside him and attempt to sleep - even when he's not technically tired.  He probably also just uses it as an excuse to be closer to Godfried more often.

Godfried

Godfried deliberately restrains himself from showing too much affection.  But when Grimm comes into bed with cold feet, Godfried doesn't complain.  Instead he says “let's warm them up” and let's Grimm put his feet against his.

[vsplusonline]

Essential workers talk about how COVID-19 affects them

New Post has been published on https://apzweb.com/essential-workers-talk-about-how-covid-19-affects-them/

Essential workers talk about how COVID-19 affects them

Health-care workers, grocery store staff, transit drivers and food delivery workers are among those being hailed as heroes for continuing to provide much-needed services amid the COVID-19 pandemic. The Canadian Press spoke to people whose work has been deemed essential by their provincial governments, about how the public health emergency has affected their lives:

——

Helen Stathopoulos, grocery store manager and clerk

When shoppers clogged the aisles of a Toronto No Frills store weeks ago in their frenzy to stock up for a potential quarantine, Helen Stathopoulos was the one who directed staff on how to handle the crowd.

Since then, Stathopoulos — who works six days a week as an associate manager for No Frills and one day a week as a part-time clerk for Loblaws — has had to navigate daily changes to help keep herself, her coworkers and customers safe as officials recommend strict physical distancing to curb the spread of COVID-19.

Her employer and union have worked together to put safety measures in place and provide protective equipment, and staff are striving to support each other emotionally, she said.

“The fear is there, whether we want to admit it or not,” she said. “But the demeanour that we have, both my locations that I work at, we all try to keep it light… we crack jokes, we do our thing and we just stick together just to make it through the day, and we take it as it comes.”

Stathopoulos, 41, said she is glad to do her part during the pandemic and appreciates the unprecedented wave of gratitude towards grocery workers.

“In my 25 years of working for this company, it’s the first time where somebody will actually call to speak to the manager, and not for a complaint but to thank my staff,” she said.

Some shoppers have let their fears and anxieties get the best of them, however, particularly as greater restrictions are imposed. Some fight among themselves, others are curt with employees, she said.

At the end of the day, Stathopoulos barely has the energy to pick up groceries for herself, she said, though she tries to stock up on essentials.

“I probably have eaten takeout more in the last three, four weeks that I’ve had in an entire couple of years. You’re just so beaten up after a 12-hour day that you’re just like, OK, I need something quick and fast,” she said.

Twice a week, she buys food for her 82-year-old mother and drops it off outside the woman’s home. Stathopoulos, who lives alone, said not being able to see her family has been the biggest adjustment, but she keeps in touch by phone or video chat.

The pandemic is throwing a wrench in her family’s plans to celebrate Orthodox Easter, which coincides with her mother’s birthday this year, she said.

“We were planning this absolute massive bash to celebrate Easter and my mother as well, and I think of all these things that we won’t be able to do,” she said.

“It scares me, it really does, because what does that norm look like in three months from now? Does it slow down, does it not? Does the grocery industry in itself still maintain the same pace as it is right now?” she said.

“We all talk about (how) we’re tired, but I think it’s not that we’re physically tired. I think we’re mentally tired.”

——

Michelle Anbar-Goldstein, social worker

Many of the people Michelle Anbar-Goldstein works with on a daily basis don’t fully understand the public health crisis unfolding around them.

As a social worker, she helps people found not criminally responsible for crimes due to a combination of developmental disability and a major psychiatric disorder, who are either at a facility or in the community.

Some supports, like group work, have been temporarily halted due to the pandemic, but Anbar-Goldstein continues to visit those in her care, navigating restrictions put in place by various ministries and organizations to help contain the virus.

“I am still going into the community and seeing my guys and spending time,” the 35-year-old said.

“Just because of the pandemic doesn’t mean that we’re not having mental health crises. And in fact, it’s much worse now.”

Part of her job is helping people follow safety measures imposed by health and government officials, but that’s proven difficult, she said.

The lack of compliance has contributed to her anxiety over the virus, as well as her family’s, even though she practises physical distancing and makes sure to change clothes and shower as soon as she gets home, she said.

Anbar-Goldstein said her husband recently asked why she had sat on the couch during a visit to a patient’s home. Her four-year-old son has also shown signs of anxiety over the pandemic.

Her husband and son have at least been able to spend time at her husband’s music studio, since no one else has been there in weeks, she said.

“So they get to leave the house and go there and they’re playing music together and recording songs. So that’s really fun for them,” she said.

As for her own concerns, so far they’re balanced out by the rewarding aspects of her job, she said.

“While I’m anxious beyond a shadow of a doubt about becoming ill, I also am grateful for being able to leave my house and see people as much as possible,” she said.

——

Katie Stock, social worker

Along with helping people prepare for life after a major illness or injury, Katie Stock now also helps them think of how they’ll manage risks related to COVID-19 as they reintegrate the community.

“Having an injury or an illness that’s changed how they function in a time in the world where the entire world has changed how it’s functioning is causing that much more uncertainty,” said Stock, a social worker at a Toronto rehabilitation hospital.

Some aspects of her work have changed due to physical distancing restrictions and other safety precautions, but the nature of it remains the same, she said.

Phone calls and video conferences are replacing face-to-face communication with patients’ families due to a ban on visitors, she said.

“I’m having to do a lot more of that work on the phone and actually trying to send people videos of what things look like because it’s really hard to describe how someone’s moving or functioning without physically observing it,” she said.

Stock said she appreciates the public support shown to essential workers and feels equally grateful for the work done by grocery staff and others whose jobs rarely get the recognition they deserve.

The pandemic has affected how she behaves outside of the hospital, she said, noting she is acutely aware of her responsibility to patients and others in the community not to spread the virus.

She now cycles rather than walking or taking transit, she said, and tries to limit grocery shopping and contact with others, which has meant not seeing her family.

Stock has also discussed safety precautions with her roommate, and makes sure to change clothes as soon as she arrives home from the hospital, she said.

Before COVID-19, Stock said she was rarely home, spending her free time playing recreational soccer and softball, going to trivia nights or concerts with friends, and trying new restaurants.

But public health measures urging people to stay home have brought Stock closer to her roommate, with whom she’s been living since November, she said.

The two now cook and eat meals together, go for jogs, and play Dance Dance Revolution, a dancing videogame, she said.

“I couldn’t have thought of a better roommate for the pandemic,” she said. “She’s just so positive and easy to get along with.”

——

Ron Kang, owner of transport company Elite Freight Lines

As the number of COVID-19 cases rises in the U.S., Ron Kang is finding it increasingly difficult to find truck drivers willing to haul goods across the border.

In some cases, he said, the drivers themselves feel comfortable making the trip, but their relatives are urging them not to, for fear of exposure to the potentially deadly virus.

Kang, who oversees roughly 25 staff and contract drivers, said he’s trying to ease their fears and has changed company policies to ensure they have as little contact as possible with anyone outside their vehicle.

For example, truckers can now pay for fuel at the pump, rather than going inside the truck stop, he said. They’ve also been given masks, gloves and hand sanitizer, he said.

“If you look at it, you’re actually quarantined in a truck, but the only time when you get out, you just need to take those precautions and use the protective equipment,” he said.

Kang, 43, said he’s also wearing gloves to handle paperwork and other materials while working at the company’s Toronto-area office.

Though the business has been deemed essential, the shutdown of other industries means fewer goods need to be transported, which — combined with drivers’ reluctance to go into the U.S. — is affecting the company, he said.

He’s been applying for loans and seeing what payments can be deferred, while counting his lucky stars that the business can operate at all, he said.

Truckers haven’t hesitated to take on domestic trips so far, though some are finding it difficult to eat well on the road now that restaurants can only do takeout, Kang said. At least they are once again able to use restrooms in businesses following a plea from government officials, he said.

His family has also had to make adjustments in light of the pandemic, he said.

It was his wife’s birthday this week and she couldn’t have any visitors, so a friend dropped off a gift at their front door, he said. Meanwhile, Kang picked up a cake at Dairy Queen and a small gift at Shoppers Drug Mart, he said.

The couple’s three boys, aged 12, 14 and 16, have been keeping busy at home, which is on a farm property in Caledon, Ont.

“If this thing goes on for another three, four months, at least we can hang out outside without any problems,” he said with a laugh.

This report by The Canadian Press was first published April 5, 2020.

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[unholyhelbiglinked]

Benched||Mace||

There was always a certain thing Grace enjoyed about the rink. Maybe it was the cheap rubber smell that filled her lungs every time she walked through the door. It was distinct and made her throat burn with familiarity.

That scent mixed so evenly with the warm hot chocolate that she knew was store bought, but that didn't seem to matter when she was a kid. Everything about it was cheap. The white Styrofoam cup had the same consistency as the tiny marshmallow's that floated to the back of the frothy drink every time she went to take a long gulp.

When she was little her father would take her to see the hockey games. She never really paid much attention to it at first. It was just a bunch of teenagers on skates who seemed to grunt and growl every chance they got. Their blue jerseys would stand out against the white starch of the ice as their skates made an odd noise against the floor.

They would fight over a small puck. Trying to get it into the other team's goal. Grace didn't see much of point in it at the time. She had only ever been exposed to soccer and a few games of basketball. All recreational. Why would someone expose themselves to heavy gear and cold wipeouts if they could stay outside in the warm sun doing essentially the same thing?

Everything seemed to shift for Grace once her mother came home with a flyer that someone posted at the local grocery store. She worked as a cashier there- the paper folded and wrinkled from being kept in her pocket during the rest of her long hours.

"Hockey?" the blonde asked, staring at the large black letters and cheesy fonts. The paper was a deep yellow- a bit of an overkill. "Mom, I don't even know how to skate."

"I think it's about time you learned."

Her father was sitting at the end of the table. His eyes lifting from the paper that lay next to him. He didn't ever get time to read it in the morning. He worked all day, barely getting enough time to do anything. Someone the trio found a way to share a dinner together every night. That had never changed.

"I think it's a great idea." He said, his voice gravely as he gave an encouraging smile to his daughter.

Grace continued to stare at the paper, tracing the small hole where a thumb tack once sat with her the pads of her fingers. The papers said something about scholarships and new opportunities. She played lacrosse during the spring, but the season was well over at this point. Her parents must have noticed how fidgety she would get during the off months.

"I'll give it a shot." She finally relented, much to the relieved looks of her parents, even though her nerves kept through to the back of her neck.

The thick metallic taste of blood was quick to dance across her tongue. It pressed against the roof of her mouth. The red color stood out against the ice- matching a few of the lines that were faded to a dark pink. They were painted to show bounds. Bounds that most of them crossed.

It was times like these when Grace questioned her decision to join the league at the start of high school. Four years and a variety of bruises had led her to be a threat on the ice. One that could kick ass if it really came down to it.

In this exact moment, it really came down to it. The other girl was pressed up against her roughly, the first to throw a punch. It was hard enough to break skin, to crack bone. Grace didn't feel the sharp pain of a shattered nose in that moment- her main focus on the deep rage that filled her.

She could hear the whistle from the referee, it's high pitch filling her ears as she grasped the girls collar and shoved her against the wall behind her. The glass made an odd noise as her whole body weight moved against it. Grace wanted to throw a punch herself- her eyes filled with anger as dark crimson continued to drip down her collarbone at this point.

"Grace!" she heard her coach scream from the sidelines. Something about letting it go. It was almost inaudible against the rest of the stadium. They shouted at her. A few people wanted to see a fight- wanted to see her fight. She had a tendency to hit back but once she felt Hannah's touch on her shoulder she released her grip on the girl.

She just shook her head, staring at her team mate before threatening to back away. She heard a soft mumble. "I knew you were a little bitch."

The blonde could swear she saw a bit of annoyance on Hannah's face before she turned back around she slammed her gloved hand right into the girls cheek. Pain quickly spread through her tendons as the one who possibly broke her Grace's nose rushed to stop her own flow of blood.

"Oh, for fucks sake." Hannah grasped Grace roughly by the shoulder as some of the crowd cheered. Others gasped, like it was the worst thing they had seen all night. Either way, blood was shed- it spilled across the ice and turned the referee's face red with anger.

"Helbig!" the coach shouted "Get your pathetic ass over here!"

Grace tore her grasp away from Hannah, a slight glare on her features as she skated over to the other end of the ice. Her knees aching as she used them to stop against the edge of the wall. "You're benched."

"What?" she asked, a bit of disbelief in her voice "Coach, she broke my nose!"

"And you broke my patience." She snarled back "Sit down. Get some ice on that."

Grace knew there was no point in arguing. There was no point in crying either. A broken bone was nothing now. She had broken a lot of things in hockey. It wasn't a soft sport. The pain went along with the game and she knew that.

She let out a small sigh as she gave the coach a slight look. The woman stepped to the side and lifted her chin towards the bench. "Mind if I leave instead?"

"Grace-"

"I know, I know." She clenched her jaw "I'd rather get this looked at now, if you don't mind."

The coach was quick to relent. A broken wrist was one thing. A nose something that could land her in real trouble if it was quick to set wrong. She nodded, Grace giving her a grateful look as she made her way back to the locker room.

Grace got a few odd looks as she ignored the cold floor under her feet, her skates in hand. She couldn't wait to get into her own clothes. The jersey hot and sweaty despite the nature of the rink. The locker room was heated and mostly empty. She could hear the sound of a shower, steam moving through the space.

The blonde started to strip her clothes from her body, pulling a plain black t-shirt over her torso as the dark jeans she wore hugged her waist. All the while she kept any type of fabric away from her nose.

She was lacing up her boots when the slight squeak of the shower shutting off caught her attention. This was a public center, a few games remained after this one- competitions occurring before her own.

She glanced up as the glimpse of long red hair caught her attention. It looked almost black with the water that decided to saturate it. The girl was tall, her skin pale against the white towel that was wrapped around her. The rough green of her eyes made a chill move through Grace. Her head cocking to the side as she lifted her chin slightly at the girl.

She recognized her. The two of them would always run into each other in here on while sitting in the stands. She was a skater, Grace could tell she wasn't much into the sport of hockey, the bulk of it not for everyone.

A bit of concern passed her face as she stopped at the locker at the very end of Grace's row. "Who fucked you up, blondie?" She asked with a scoff.

"Riverview." Grace responded, a bit of sadness in her voice. "Some bitch with an agenda I assume."

"Did you fight back?"

"Tried not to, Red."

Mamrie scoffed at this, her hair falling into her face as she dug through her locker- changing into something comfier herself. Grace kept her focus on her boots for a few seconds, lacing them up as her whole entire nose seemed to throb, a bit of blood still falling as she used the edge of her sleeve to keep it from spreading.

"Something tells me that's not true."

"Something tells me you're right."

"I hope it was worth it."

Grace glanced up at this, Mamrie was running a hand though her wet hair. She was dressed in a long sweater, her hand letting the rest of her hair fall around her shoulders as she stared right back at Grace.

"It probably wasn't." the blonde looked down at her hand. Her knuckles were cracked and caked with a bit of blood. She was sure it wasn't the other girls- the gloves made sure of that. The gloves made everything sting a little bit more, though. "I don't even like hockey."

This caught Mamrie off guard, her eyebrows raising as she lowered herself onto the bench next to Grace, shifting her focus to her own shoes "Then why do you play?"

She shrugged "I'm good at it."

"and not modest at all."

Grace let out a small laugh "That's not what I meant... I don't know. I always used to come here with my dad. Hockey was something to distract me from everything. For a while I loved it."

Mamrie nodded, she smelled like lavender. The whole area did. It was the type of shampoo she used. It was light and airy. It was nice. "What changed that?... Loving it, I mean."

"When I first got on the ice it almost felt like I was floating. Like I was stronger just because I was able to skate a few feet before busting my ass." She smiled "I don't know. Something about that feeling made me want to get up and keep trying. So I did."

"The feeling of a challenge then?" Mamrie lifted her chin "That's what you miss?"

"I suppose."

The silence enveloped them again, each listening to the loud buzzer and sound of a crowd cheering on a team. It was muffled of course, the whole room making it feel like they were underwater.

"What about you? Do you still like figure skating?"

"That's a trick question, Blondie." Mamrie scoffed "How can I still like it if I never did in the first place?"

"Really?" Grace raised a brow, staring into the dark green eyes of the girl to her side. There was no sense of humor in the way she stared back. Her features were creased and serious.

"Really." She let out a long sigh, her breath hot against Grace's shoulder "My mom has a bit of an overkill when it comes to following in her footsteps. Figure Skating happened to be the one thing she never got to do because she got knocked up."

Grace just shook her head, she knew about the pressure of parents- even if hers didn't' intend to show they had it. She knew they couldn't pay for college without scholarships, and the rink was giving away plenty of them.

She stood, Mamrie furrowing her brow in confusion as Grace reached her hand down to pull Mamrie to her feet. "Let's quit then. Walk out of here and never look back."

"Right," Mamrie laughed, shaking her head as she placed her warm palm in Grace's, the two of them staying there for a second as Mamrie stood. She didn't draw her touch back right away. "I think we both have a lot to lose if we walk out."

Grace pouted a bit, even though she knew the offer was just for the imagination. "Fine, then walk out with me for the night. We can get some coffee or something."

"Mm," Mamrie, lifted her chin "Hospital coffee sounds interesting."

"Hospital?"

"You're pathetic," Mamrie giggled, pressing the tip of her finger to her nose. Grace shook her head, a smile taking up most of her face. "But adorably so. I'll take you up on that coffee offer."

This time Mamrie held her hand out to Grace, the girl taking it quickly as she breathed in the familiar scent of the rink. The scent that was filled with cheap hot chocolate and used skates. The scent that was now skillfully infused with lavender.