#Ultimate Cheeseburgers

[williamrablan]

Return of the Big Boy

There’s just something about sharing a small adventure with family. Since I went to see the Big Boy last year solo, I wanted to share it with family this time and invited my son, grandson, and sons-in-law to visit it with me. As things would turn out, only my son Gerald and my grandson Austin were able to go. But before I get going too much, what the heck is the Big Boy. Vital StatisticsTender…

[fieriframes]

[If you're gonna eat a burger, you should eat it but imaginary past takes the place of our own. The Ultimate Cheeseburger.]

[duranduratulsa]

Merry Christmas 🎅 🎄 Burger 🍔 of the day: The Ultimate Christmas Burger #food #foodporn #burgers #cheeseburgers #christmasburger #christmas #theultimatechristmasburger #MerryChristmas2022 #merrychristmas

[luveline]

Maybe KBD Steve being smitten even when he takes the family out to dinner and it’s hectic in the best way possible!

KBD —Steve gets overwhelmed with love at dinner. mom!reader

“I wanna sit with mom.” 

Steve ignores Dove’s whine until she says it again. “I wanna sit with mom!” 

He finds it all too easy to shuffle her back toward his chest, eyes over her shoulder. He’s a little more interested in his fries right now, but he isn’t heartless. “Babe, you’re not sitting with mom. Do you want me to cut up your chicken?” 

“Please?” she asks. 

You’re sitting across the table with Beth. It’s easier when you’re eating out for you to sit with Beth, because, while he tries just as hard, you’re better at getting her to eat her fill. And! Despite what Dove wants, she will not be sitting with you because she wishes she was sitting on you, and your belly is not to be sat on right now. Baby Wren is four months old, and sometimes, somehow, you’re still tender. The human body mystifies. 

“No.” He smiles at her. “But you can sit on my lap forever.” 

She frowns. Looks like she might show off, but ultimately enjoys being smiled at too much. “Will you cut it?” 

Steve grabs her knife and fork and starts to shear the meat off of her half-chicken. Beside him, Avery digs into a serving of mac and cheese with vigour, her spoon scratching the bottom of the bowl. The restaurant is quiet considering the time and day; it’s prime time 6PM on a Saturday, and you’d both expected this family establishment to be full to bursting, but besides two tables by the door and a couple of older women at the bar, it’s quiet. It’s quite nice. 

The girls are less so. 

“Oh, gosh, cheese,” Avery says. 

“It’s too wet,” Beth says. 

“Do the ‘sparagus too, daddy,” Dove says. 

Wren, thankfully, snores in her stroller, the slightest tinge against her collar of waylaid milk. 

“Yum! Beth, do you want some?” 

“I don’t want any.” 

“Bethie, you know, this is just how daddy usually makes them,” you say, stealing one of her French fries, licking salt grains from your fingers. “Except daddy wouldn’t let you have all that salt.” 

“It’s nice,” Beth defends. 

“Exactly. Better eat it before your daddy notices,” you say, all soft and smiley as you lean down and poke her in the side. 

She shies away, but not without a smile of her own. “Mom!” she whispers. 

“What?” Steve asks. 

“Nothing, nothing,” you say. You reach around Beth as Steve had done to Dove and begin to cut the last of her burger into sections. Steve would argue a burger from here is better than anything he could make, but he likes the compliment. 

His own burger grows cold in front of him. Your meal does the same. 

He licks his thumb. “Baby,” he says, tapping your ankle with his shoe, “you need to eat.” 

“I’m trying.” 

“Beth’s a big girl, huh?” he says, giving Beth an encouraging wink. “She doesn’t need you hovering, she wants you to eat your food.” 

“Thanks, mommy,” Beth says. 

“I don’t care what daddy says,” you say, tapping your nose, “I can help you if you need it. Big girl or not.” 

He rolls his eyes playfully and goes back to his own food. Dove eats strands of chicken with her fingers, seemingly pleased, and he pretends she isn’t taking fries off his plate as he relishes in huge bites of big cheeseburger. It’s amazing. Melted cheese, a super fresh slice of tomato, lettuce crisp and not soggy. Steve loves when somebody else makes dinner. 

You finish your food fast, and then you're straight back to Beth. Steve realises quickly that it’s not even that she’s struggling today, you’re just being affectionate. He should’ve realised that before. 

(Maybe too doting considering Beth has been able to feed herself for more than four years, but Steve can’t blame you.)

“I’m glad they didn’t give you a tomato,” you’re saying, fingertips drawing circles into her arms, clearly distracting her from the task at hand. “Remember last time? They gave you tomatoes and mustard even though we told them you don’t like them.” 

“I do like tomatoes,” she says. 

“No, I know, just not on burgers.” You wrap your arm around her and turn your gaze on Avery. “What’s your mac and cheese like, Ave?” 

“So good! You want some?” 

“No, thanks. It looks cheesy.” 

Avery stabs her spoon into her food and pulls it up slowly to showcase the cheese pull. She’s gone a little pink in the face, which isn’t like her, but it’s hot in the restaurant and her food is still steaming. Like you’ve had the same thought, you lift a laminated menu and begin batting fresh air at her. “Babe, you’re red! Are you okay?” 

Jesus, he loves you. Steve really loves you. You’re just adorable, and a great mom, and he loves you. He’s gonna do it. It’s gonna piss you off, but he has to. 

“Okay, alright,” he says, shuffling out of his seat, lifting Dove to place her next to Avery. “This has been a long time coming. I think nobody expected me to wait this long, but.” He neatens his eyebrows with two fingertips and slicks back his hair. “Honey, I love you.” 

“Steve…” you warn. 

“I love you, and I want to be with you, ‘cos you’re beautiful and sweet and weirdly good with kids?” He raises his eyebrows at you. “I don’t know. You’re amazing.” 

He slips his hand behind his back, shrugs off his wedding ring, and gets down on one knee. 

Avery claps and laughs immediately. Dove tips her head to the side trying to make him out. 

“Baby, I can’t imagine my life without you, and I can’t go one more day without being your husband. Would you please, please, do me the honour of becoming my wife?” 

You laugh loud and sudden, then clear your throat. “What do you think, girls?” you ask, leaning back for conference. 

“Say yes!” Avery says. 

“But he really annoyed me earlier tickling my leg,” you say. 

“True.” Avery looks to Beth. “He can learn to be better, right?” 

“I thought you were married already?” Beth asks. 

Avery giggles. You squash a smile against Beth’s hairline as you give her a little kiss. “We are,” you whisper, “he’s just pretending.” 

“This is not pretend!” Steve’s knee hurts, but he perseveres for love. “Please, honey. I love you more than anyone.”

Dove gasps in hurt. 

“Except for my Dove, my Beth, my Avery, and my Wren,” he adds. “Jesus, we have a lot of kids. That was a mouthache.” 

You meet his eyes and smile like you don’t want to smile. You hold out your hand, unperturbed when he gasps in over exaggerated delight and slips the ring on your already ringed finger. 

“Congratulations!” Avery shouts. 

She’s hilarious. “She gets that from me,” he says. 

You usher him off of the floor for a kiss, not dissimilar from the one you gave when he’d actually proposed —your hands on his cheeks, holding him to you as though he might run away before you’re done. Your smile  a palpable thing as he leans in. 

[0310s]

wiping something off their lips (leehan ver.) 𓉞⋆｡˚☁︎｡⋆

members: boynextdoor legal line x gender neutral reader

genre: college! au, fluff, friends to lovers, they have a crush on u waaah >_<!!!, a little angst, leehan cries ૮ ◞ ﻌ ◟ ა but it’ll be ok i promise!!!

wc: 3.3k

a/n: something came over me and i had to write this immediately. leehan is so dear to me! let me know your thoughts <3

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Leehan is neat eater #2 (Neat eater #1: Sungho). While he’s not as conscious as Sungho, he’s just the type that doesn’t make a mess because he’s a slow eater. But seeing you baby Jaehyun all the time makes him want you to do the same for him. 

You’re hanging out with both Leehan and Jaehyun at a diner, with you and Jaehyun seated beside each other and Leehan opposite you both. While Leehan leisurely chews on his fries, Jaehyun’s devouring his burger so eagerly it’s worrying. He gets sauce all over his lips in the process. You’re trying to stifle your laugh at his enthusiasm but ultimately fail to keep it in—your cute giggles make Leehan’s heart beat faster, although he can’t figure out why that exactly is. Still, he stores this memory of your laugh away in his mind, just like he’s mentally catalogued bits and pieces of your personality and interests over the course of your friendship—in a totally platonic manner, of course. If you could consider having an entire library in his brain of everything about you platonic.

Moreover, Leehan’s never thought himself to be a possessive person, but when you poke Jaehyun and start dabbing at his lips with a tissue once he faces you, he feels a smidge resentful at how Jaehyun just lets you go all up in his personal space. You’re both laughing now as Jaehyun jokingly bats away your attempts to baby him; still, you persist and finally remove all the sauce off his mouth. To onlookers, you and Jaehyun must probably look like a couple, while Leehan is just your friend that’s tagged along for the ride. Was it normal to be jealous as a friend? He doesn’t know. 

“Leehan, what’s going on in your head? You got all quiet of a sudden,” Jaehyun calls him. You’re looking at him worriedly too, and Leehan secretly relishes in your attention, feeling like a little schoolboy being patted on the head by his favorite teacher.

He stares at the condensation forming on his glass of cold water, watches the droplets slide down to the surface of the table, and forces himself to take a steady breath. “It’s nothing,” he promises. “Just spacing out. What were we talking about?”

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The week later, you and Leehan spend the afternoon at the same diner. Jaehyun gets called to take an emergency shift at the convenience store, so it’s just the two of you now. You enter the booth first, and as Leehan moves to take the opposite seat, you tug at his jacket and happily pat at the empty space beside you. Hiding a shy smile, he slides in beside you. You then recite your orders to the waiter; you opt for a cheeseburger and fries, while Leehan’s in the mood for a milkshake. You eye Leehan’s choice of meal in trepidation, and right before the waiter leaves, you order another cheeseburger. “A milkshake isn’t lunch, Leehan. And I know you’re going to get hungry later—you always do. So eat this burger, alright?”

“Alright,” Leehan replies, head lowered to conceal how the corners of his lips curve up. He has no idea why the simple act of you ordering food for him has him flustered like this. Even as you gently reprimand him, he feels babied… in a good way? Like someone pays attention to him and cares enough to look after him. He likes when it’s you who does this out of everyone else.

You make small talk while the food is being prepared, and Leehan basks in your presence and energy. He’s always felt at ease with you, hasn’t he? You let him share marine life facts for hours on end without expressing any sort of annoyance, and he knows you’re listening by the way you chime in to clarify things he’s said or to ask questions of your own. When he shares his hobbies and interests with you, you’re there to support him. When he makes silly jokes, you always match his humor. And he gets a fluttery feeling in his heart when you rely on him too—every time you open up to him about what makes you happy, excited, scared, or sad, he feels content to intimately know another part of you. Leehan wants to know everything about you, no matter how long that takes. Maybe he just wants to be closer to you… as a best friend? Is he feeling all these things for you because he wants to be your closest friend?

He’s snapped out of his reverie when the server arrives with your food. “Eat,” you instruct, as you push the extra cheeseburger towards him. Leehan obediently takes a bite of his burger, following it up with a sip of his milkshake. Some of the whipped cream decorating the drink gets on his lips, but he doesn’t care because of the sheer joy he feels being seated beside you. So when Leehan’s in the middle of narrating a video about deep sea exploration discoveries, you interrupt him with a thumb to his lips. He trails off in stunned silence as you swipe once at his bottom lip. It’s only a couple of seconds, but it feels like eternity to him as he takes in your focused eyes, soft cheeks, and pouty mouth. 

When you turn back to your food like nothing’s happened, Leehan can feel his ears heat up, and he’s never been more grateful that he’s kept his hair this long. Clearing his throat, he takes another bite of his burger. As you talk and he eats, a plan formulates itself in Leehan’s brain. He wants all your attention on him again, wants your soft and gentle touch—but how can he do that without making it too obvious?

When he looks down at his drink, he’s found the answer.

The next time you glance at Leehan, he’s got whipped cream on his lips once again. You don’t think he knows because he’s continued recounting the details of the deep sea documentary to you and how the researchers managed to collect information from such depths. Laughing under your breath, you rub at the corner of his mouth again. Leehan stills when you do so, thanks you kindly, then proceeds to elaborate on the new species these scientists have identified. 

Over the next hour you spend in the diner, Leehan manages to get cream on his lips for a total of five more times. You don’t mind at all because you find it really adorable, given he’s rarely clumsy like this; you also love doting on him. The tiny smiles he sends your way when you wipe off the messes warms your heart even more. You’ve always found Leehan cute. Of course you can find your friends cute, no big deal. Right?

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When your friend group finally has the time to meet up after weeks of conflicting schedules, you find yourselves at your regular hangout place once again for dinner: the diner. You’re escorted to one of the bigger booths, where a singular, long leather bench winds around a large table. Here, you’re squeezed in between Leehan and Jaehyun. Jaehyun and Woonhak are loudly complaining about their final requirements, while Taesan and Riwoo speak in measured tones about their plans for the semestral break. You zone in on Jaehyun and Woonhak’s conversation, drawn in by their energetic storytelling.

When your food is served, Leehan is handed a burger he didn’t ask for. You’ve ordered him a cheeseburger again. You know him too well—he’s only gotten the same milkshake as the last time you two were here together. Still, as Leehan’s about to thank you, he finds that your back is angled away from him. You’re in the middle of a lengthy conversation with Jaehyun, whose loud and grating laughter bothers him. Then he pouts, silently sulking because he doesn’t have your undivided attention. Haven’t you guys been talking for ten minutes straight already? Have you forgotten he’s right beside you?

He thinks he’s concealed his emotions perfectly but fails to catch how Taesan and Riwoo share a knowing look at the spectacle in front of them. They’re both shaking their heads at their friend’s obliviousness. But all Leehan’s focused on is bringing (y/n)’s focus back on him. “(Y/n),” Leehan calls from beside you and taps your shoulder. “(Y/n).” 

“Yeah, what’s up?” you question. When you turn back, Leehan’s got cream on his lips again. He’s quietly waiting for you to wipe it off, and it makes you a little (just a little!!!) pleased that he waited for you especially to help him out. “Oh! Come here, Leehan.” 

“They’re both idiots,” Taesan sighs into Riwoo’s ear as you dab at Leehan’s lips with a tissue, both of you in your own little world. Leehan’s watching you fondly, while your own cheeks are red with shyness. Riwoo can’t agree more. When you finish wiping Leehan’s mouth and return to your conversation with Jaehyun, Leehan subtly pumps his fist at how he was effective in making you notice him—

Then finds his friends staring right at him. Taesan and Riwoo look like they’re about to burst into laughter. He freezes, cheeks burning red as he gets caught in this admittedly juvenile act. Taesan’s about to open his mouth when Leehan shakes his head. Please don’t, he mouths. Taesan shrugs and mouths back, Are you confessing anytime soon? Which—well—what exactly does he mean by that? Confessing? Romantic feelings? Him? To you? What? Taesan? What?

Leehan’s existential crisis is clear to the two of them as his eyes are blown wide open, the wheels visibly turning in his head as he comes to a realization. Understanding dawns upon Riwoo, who nudges his friend beside him. “Taesan… I don’t think he knows he has a crush on them.”

“Yeah, I’m just registering that now,” Taesan hisses back, highly entertained by all this, but also wondering what Leehan’s next move will be. 

You’re oblivious to all this happening in the background, still absorbed in your conversation with Jaehyun and Woonhak about your busy schedules. Like always, Jaehyun makes a mess of himself as he drops a piece of juicy burger meat on his shirt. “Nooo, my favorite shirt!” he wails, and of course, you—kind, lovely, beautiful you—come to the rescue. Leehan sullenly glowers as you wet some tissue and pat at Jaehyun’s chest repeatedly. You’re so close to Jaehyun you could already be hugging. And Woonhak, who’s glancing back and forth at the three of you, finally reads the room and goes silent. Locking eyes with both Taesan and Riwoo, he mouths, What the heck, and the two respond with matching shrugs. 

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“(Y/n), can we talk?” Leehan catches up to you as you exit the diner. The rest of the group have gone their own ways, citing their needs to catch up on homework and sleep. Woonhak, Taesan, and Riwoo drag Jaehyun away with them despite his incessant complaints of wanting to hang out with you more. Weird, you think, but nothing too worrisome, I hope.

“Sure! What’s going on?” Leehan seems troubled with the way he hesitantly makes his way over to your side as you both sit down on the benches outside the diner. There’s a considerable amount of space between you two—around two or three more people could fit. Which is odd—Leehan seemed so comfortable earlier, even as your shoulders incidentally brushed against each other in the diner.

“I…” Leehan starts but trails off. He seems unsure of himself, so you urge him to take his time. You have no idea what this is about, but you’re definitely worried. You’ve never seen Leehan this uneasy.

In the end, Leehan seems to be unable to muster up the courage to open up to you about his problem. “Nevermind,” he sighs. “It’s not that important…”

At this exact moment, your phone rings. “Sorry, give me a moment.” You hold a finger up, checking your phone. It’s Taesan—maybe he’s forgotten to tell you something, or maybe he’s left something at the diner? You hit answer. “Taesan?” You don’t catch sight of Leehan’s face paling at the mention of your friend’s name. 

“(Y/n), think about it. Do you think Leehan’s really that messy?—” Taesan manages to yell into the phone before it’s snatched up by Leehan, who swiftly ends the call. He’s not looking at you, but you spot his hands slightly tremble. What did Taesan mean by that? 

“What… What did Taesan say?” Leehan pries in a very small voice, at contrast with his hand grasping at your phone so tightly that his knuckles are becoming a ghastly shade of white.

You want your phone back first. “Leehan, my phone, please?” 

“Oh. Sorry.” Leehan passes it back to you, and his hands fist at his pants instead, tightening then letting go, almost like a pattern to soothe himself. 

“Well, Taesan told me to think about you being messy, which I don’t really get…?” You begin, trying to process the last two minutes or so. “What did he mean by that? You, messy?” You wrack your brain for an explanation—then you suddenly recall the other week you two met, when you wiped whipped cream off Leehan’s mouth multiple times. And just awhile ago, when Leehan waited for you to clean him up.

You have an inkling as to what this is about, but you want to really, really make sure it’s not just a product of your wishful thinking. “I could be wrong, but is Taesan talking about when you had whipped cream on your lips awhile ago?”

“Um… It’s nothing, really.” Leehan’s withdrawn into himself. It seems like he’s not going to give the acknowlegement you want, but you badly need to know the truth for the sake of your sanity. Like a godsend, your phone screen flashes with Taesan’s name again, and you answer as fast as you can, shielding yourself from Leehan’s attempts to steal your device. As you both struggle on the bench, you accidentally hit speakerphone —

“He put that cream on his lips on purpose while you weren’t looking!” Taesan’s voice rings out, then he hangs up. Then, you slowly glimpse at Leehan from your entangled position; his arms cage you on both sides of your head as he shadows you, your fronts almost pressing together if not for the hands you have clutched around your phone. You get to witness in real time how his face reddens in shame. His throat bobs and your eyes unconsciously follow the line of his neck to where his collarbones disappear under his shirt. 

Wait, you can’t afford to be distracted right now! “Leehan? What Taesan said… is that true? For today and last time?”

After a moment of silence, Leehan nods, letting out a shaky exhale, and you can feel his warm breath on your mouth. Upon realizing how close you both are, he quickly leans back and faces straight ahead, obstructing your gaze by placing an arm over his face. Despite that, his bright red cheeks are evident. You can feel your cheeks burn similarly as you process the implications of his actions.

“So, let me get this right. You intentionally put whipped cream on your li-lips so I could wipe it off you? Because you…?”

“Don’t make me say it… I’m really embarrassed now,” Leehan whines from behind his arm. “You already know what it means.”

You don’t care—you want to hear it straight from him. “No, tell me, I really don’t know,” you insist, yanking his arm down and smushing his cheeks in your palms so he can’t look anywhere except at you. Leehan’s eyes are wide and pitiful, but even as your heart clenches in guilt for what you’re putting him through, you force yourself to stay strong.

After a moment of silence as Leehan figures he can’t escape from your grasp, he starts speaking. “At-At first, I thought I just wanted us to be closer friends… But today made me understand that I-I actually want more than that with. With you.” Your heart pounds in your chest as Leehan finally admits, “I… like you. As more than a friend.” The more Leehan speaks, the more realization starts to dawn on you about your own feelings towards him. Then he starts sniffling, tears forming in his pretty doe eyes, and your heart drops to your stomach. 

“No, no, baby, why are you crying?” You feel like the worst person ever to exist as tears fall down Leehan’s face. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you cry.” You wrap your arms around him, and he clutches at your shirt as his little sobs resume, his face tucked into your shoulder. You just hold him and apologize a thousand times as his cries subside. Eventually, he peeks up at you, eyes still watery, and you guiltily wipe the stray tears that make their way down his pretty face—of course he’s breathtaking, even when he cries. “I’m sorry, Leehan, I’m a terrible person for making you confess even when you didn’t want to.”

“Not your fault,” Leehan mumbles, “Wanted to be honest with you. Just didn’t expect to tell you this soon. I feel… overwhelmed.”

“This soon? Overwhelmed?”

At this, Leehan lets out a little sigh. “Just found out about my feelings at the diner. I thought they were platonic, but when I really thought about why I was so desperate to get your attention… it was because I wished you would look at me like that all the time and I wanted to be your priority. Romantically. But now looking back at how I tried to get your attention, I just feel like an immature kid now,” he laughs self-deprecatingly. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. You probably don’t even want that from me…”

Before you can even say anything, Leehan seems to steel himself, disentangling himself from you and looking at you directly. “I like you, but I don’t want us to be awkward now that you know… I can keep my distance until you decide whether you want us to still be friends or not. I want to remain friends, but if you’re uncomfortable with that, just let me know… I promise I’ll step back.” Seeing how considerate Leehan is of your feelings sends a pang of affection through you, and you muster up the courage to be honest yourself.

“Leehan… While you were telling me about all this, I may have just realized that… I like you too. Romantically,” you add, seeing Leehan’s expression change from one of shock into one of tentative hope. “I thought I cared for you as a friend, but it made me happy when you relied on me. I don’t know if it’s selfish of me, but I wanted myself to be the first person you asked for help from. So everytime you wanted me to wipe your lips, it honestly made me really giddy. But Leehan, you don’t have to do that to get my attention… you’ve already had it ever since. And always,” you finish, your cheeks turning an impressive scarlet at your own bold declaration.

Leehan eyes are sparkling right now, and you almost melt (in a good way, the one that makes your insides feel all gooey) from the weight of his attention. “...Really?” he presses. You nod. “Really really?” You nod again. “Really really really? You’re sure? No takebacks?” His thinly veiled enthusiasm makes you giggle, and you agree for the third time.

“Yes, Leehan, I’m sure.” This time, your heart beats rapidly not out of anxiety, but of anticipation. “So… I hope it’s not too early for me to ask, but… do you want to be my boyfriend?”

“Yes, yes, I’m yours,” Leehan beams so hard his eyes turn into little crescents and his dimples start showing. “You’re mine too, right?”

“I am.”

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taglist: @kirbyyluvs

[auroralwriting]

clean 2

tfatws! bucky barnes x stark! reader

bucky and you finally start your life together, washing each other clean of your pasts

word count: 2k | warnings: coupleish fluff with a hint of angst, part one

"Bucky, you have to admit, the navy sofa looks so much better than the green one."

The two sofas were displayed on two sets of phones, seemingly calling to be chosen. It was a tough pick, but ultimately, Bucky knew whatever color you wanted was going to be the one you'd get.

It had been a whole month since your first kisses, since the harsh end of Karli, and the new beginning to much happier lives. So far, the only people to know about Bucky and your relationship was Pepper and Morgan, both extremely accepting of the news. You both decided to wait on telling sam until your apartment was perfectly ready for visitors. That, of course, came with the much needed decoration of the place.

"C'mon, doll. Our sofa now is already so nice." Bucky argued.

Your face was dumbfounded, "Buck, that sofa was the previous owners. Imagine how gross it is, we have to get a new one. Plus, you can't say no to the one who's buying."

Bucky gave a defeated sigh, "I'm pretty sure this money isn't what Tony intended it to be for."

"Well, technically it's all my money since I own the company." You debated with a shrug. "And it's what I intend to use it for, that's all that matters."

So, with a few clicks, the couch was bought.

The apartment was filled with decorations now. It felt so much homier and more comfortable. Now, with you by his side, Bucky finally felt comfortable sleeping in a bed once again. Of course, it was one you had picked out, but Bucky didn't mind; you had wonderful taste.

The vibration of your phone buzzed in your pocket. Pulling it out to look at the screen, you smiled and showed it to Bucky.

"Hello?" You said as you pressed the accept button.

"Hi Auntie Iron!" Morgan's sweet voice came through the phone, out on speaker for you and Bucky to hear. You could see his eyes melt at her words.

"Hi there, Miss Morgan!" You cheered back. "How's my favorite niece in the whole wide galaxy?"

Morgan giggled, "I'm you're only niece!"

"Exactly!" You laughed. "How's Momma? Is she the one who called?"

"No, I'm mad at her." Morgan pouted, causing you to give a cheeky look to Bucky. "She won't let me have more juice pops."

You feigned a gasp, "No she didn't,"

"Tell her I can have all the juice pops ever!" Morgan cried out in exasperation.

"Well, Morgie, Momma said I have to be a better influence on you," You paused, handing the phone to Bucky, "But she never said your favorite Uncle had to be."

Morgan let out a huge gasp, "Uncle Bucky?" She yelled excitedly.

"Hi Morgan," Bucky smiled as he spoke. Bucky was nervous to meet Morgan, and officially meet Pepper, too. After about three and a half minutes, Morgan had Bucky wrapped around her little finger as she dangled from his metal arm. It took Pepper only seven minutes to accept Bucky with welcoming arms, with a slight amount of hesitancy, of course. But seeing Morgan so obsessed with him, it was hard to not crack. Now, you'd have to say Pepper liked Bucky more than you, and you were her in-law. "I hear your Mom won't let you have any more juice pops."

"It's not fair!" Morgan cried, "I only had one. Tell her you said it's okay, Uncle Buck!"

Bucky chuckled, "But did you have a cheeseburger today?"

Morgan went silent, "... No."

"Well that's probably why then," Bucky laughed. "How about this, you promise your Mom you'll eat all your vegetables at dinner and then you can have a juice pop before bed."

Through the phone, it was clear Morgan was gagging. "I hate carrots!"

"Then you probably won't get a juice pop. I'm doin' you a favor, Morg." Bucky said. "Your Mom's stubborn, this is the best deal I can get you."

A large sigh came through, "Fine," Morgan sighed, "But I want a purple one!"

"Then a purple one it is," Bucky grinned as Morgan cheered.

After a few minutes of talking to Pepper after Morgan finally handed the phone over, you laid your head on Bucky's lap as his hand found your hair. "They love you," You smiled.

"I love them," Bucky replied. A small silence ensued right after, and by looking at Bucky's face, his brows all creased and lips pressed together, you knew he was in deep thought.

"What?" You questioned softly, looking up and softly caressing his cheek. "Are you thinking about Steve?"

Bucky took sight of your face and knew there was no use lying. "You always know exactly what I'm thinking about." He mused, watching as you tilted your head slightly. "I'm just thinking about how.. happy he would've been for us."

"You think?" You acknowledged.

"Yeah," Bucky nodded thoughtfully. "He would've been over the moon for us." Bucky sat you up, sitting you down on his lap as his arms enclosed around your waist. "He woulda seen how happy you make me, how loved I feel. He would've had no choice but to love us."

With a small laugh, you put your hands on Bucky's cheeks, "He might've cried if you put it to him like that," You remarked as Bucky smiled softly. "You two are just big ol' softies,"

"Only for you, doll." Bucky's thumbs rubbed soft circles over your clothes in the softest touch he could give.

"What else are you thinking about?" You continued, "There's never just one thought in that mind of yours."

Bucky clicked his tongue, "Are you sure you aren't a mind reader? Maybe that suit is ingrained in your brain or something." You both laughed. Bucky continued, "I'm thinking about if Tony would've been happy for us."

"I think he would've," You answered as Bucky raised a brow. "Buck, I've literally never had a boyfriend longer than maybe two weeks. If anything, Tony would be thrilled I'm not dying alone in the near future." Bucky gave a small lopsided smile as you continued. "But I truly, from the bottom of my heart, believe he would've been so happy I found someone who loves me so much."

"He still would've punched me," Bucky shrugged.

You nodded with a hesitant grin, "Probably, but then he would've loved us."

Quickly, Bucky spoke, his words in a rush. "I wanna tell Sam about us."

Previously, you'd both talked about how you wanted to keep this private. However, it was becoming increasingly harder with the press following "CEO Stark" around everywhere, and how Sam wouldn't stop nagging Bucky about why he's been so off the radar in the last month.

"Are you sure it's time?" You asked softly. "We can still wait if you need time,"

Bucky's heart swelled at your gentle words. You always knew what to say to remind him he's his own person, allowed to make his own opinions, have his own thoughts and feelings. "Yeah, doll. I'm sure I'm ready."

"Okay," You nodded, a small smile creeping on your face. "When do we wanna tell him?"

"How about I invite him over to see the newly decorated place, and then we tell him together, in person." Bucky offered. He was always so good at making the best plans.

You nodded quickly, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pulled him in for a kiss. "That sounds wonderful," You agreed as you pulled apart.

"Man, this place looks great!" You heard Sam remark as he walked into your living room. Right now, you were waiting in Bucky and your bedroom for the right time to come out. "Did you hire some interior designer to do this? No way your taste picked out this shit."

Bucky laughed, "No, but I'll give your compliments to the chef,"

You could hear them walking around, "I'm proud of you, Bucky, really. You're doing great for yourself."

"I've had a lot of help along the way," Bucky replied. You didn't hear any footsteps anymore, so you assumed they were sitting down.

"Damn, this is a nice couch." Sam commented. You gave yourself a metaphorical pat on the back, you knew the navy one would be the best. "It's soft, this is nice. I could sleep here." After a beat, Sam asked, "So, what have you been up to?"

"I could ask you the same, Cap," Bucky teased.

Sam laughed, "Not too much, just a lot of press, then going back home to be with the family."

You could tell Bucky was probably nodding along, humming in reply like he always did. "Look, man. I have something I've been wanting to tell you." This was it.

"Oh God, who did you piss off this time?" Sam sighed as Bucky chuckled.

"It's not that bad," Slowly, you opened the bedroom door as quietly as you could and hid behind the wall, right around the corner to the living room. "There's something I- we've, been meaning to tell you,"

Before Sam could reply, you turned the corner and gave a small wave, leaning up on the fronts of your feet nervously. "Hi, Sam."

The look on Sam's face was so priceless you wished you would've taken a photo. For a moment, he just gaped at you, looking back and forth between Bucky and you. Then, the biggest smile known to man pushed its way through as he stood up, tightly hugging Bucky and giving him a clap on the back. "Man, I knew something was up with you!" Sam made his way over to you and gave you a tight hug. "And I knew Bucky wasn't the one to make this place look as nice as it does." The three of you laughed as you sat down next to Bucky, his arm wrapping around your waist.

"Any questions?" You asked as Sam sat down next to you. His eyes glimmered as he beamed.

"So many," Sam replied quickly. "One, who started this? Two, how long? Three, who else knows? Four-"

Bucky held out a hand, "Let's just start with three for now. Technically me, I kissed her first."

"And its been about a month now," You continued. "The only other people who know are Pepper and Morgan."

Sam raised a brow, "What was the jury's vote?"

"Jury voted in favor," You responded. "Bucky's already Morg's favorite uncle."

Bucky's face turned pink in embarrassment as Sam laughed, "Wow, Uncle Buck. I didn't know you were such a child magnet. All the kids you meet love you."

"What can I say, I'm just a people person." Bucky joked.

"It's just the metal arm," You joked as Bucky squeezed your side causing you to sequel lightly, pushing yourself into his side as he chuckled. "Soon we're hopefully gonna get a cat, too."

Bucky sighed, "Doll, I've already told you, we cannot get a cat."

"You'll love a cat!" You cried, "Plus, you're an animal person, you can't lie about that."

Sam chimed in, "Its true. When he met Kate Bishop's dog, he couldn't leave that thing alone for more than two minutes."

"It was the dog who couldn't leave me alone," Bucky scoffed.

The three of you continued to laugh and talk all night. Sam eventually convinced you both to come down to Sarah's again to spend some more time there. Of course, you quickly agreed. Now that your best friend and close family knew, it felt like all was becoming normal for once in your lives. Now was the time you began to shed yourselves free of your past and make a happier future together. Finally, you were both clean.

[spacelazarwolf]

Here's a fun random question: Is there such a thing as a secular Jew?

Like, we have secular Christians who do the bare minimum to call themselves a Christian and participate in Christian holidays. Are there Jews that do that? Like maybe they were born into the faith and participate in the culture but they aren't like. Super religious about it all and if they miss something, it's not a big deal for them?

oh absolutely. there are some jews who will eat a bacon cheeseburger then fast all day with their family on yom kippur then not speak another word of hebrew till passover. but i think for jews it’s less abt doing the bare minimum to still be considered a jew bc judaism is a tribe, and more abt spending important days with their family or connecting with their culture.

and like obligatory 2 jews 3000 opinions and i’m not the Ultimate Authority on judaism, but the thing that’s different imo abt judaism vs christianity (at least western christianity) is that christianity is a faith-based religion. generally, if you don’t align with christian theology, or at least say “yeah ok jesus sure”, you are by definition not a christian. for jews, there’s multiple different axes on which jews can interact with judaism, but the two that are probably the most helpful to gentiles in understanding the jewish people’s complex and varied relationships to judaism: religiosity and observance.

religiosity is about what you believe. do you think god exists? what is god? what are your beliefs about creation? how do you interact with jewish spirituality? and honestly, you could probably even break religiosity and spirituality into two different categories.

observance is about what you do. do you abstain from eating pork and shellfish? do you light candles every friday night? do you attend synagogue regularly? do you just go on yom kippur? do you wear a kippah or tichel?

to a lot of people who aren’t jewish or aren’t familiar with judaism, they might think that if someone is religious then they’re obviously observant, and if they aren’t religious then obviously they aren’t observant. but you will meet jews who keep fully kosher, light candles every single friday, observe even the most minor fasts, celebrate all the holidays, and think the notion of god is bullshit and saying the shema is just a way they connect with their ancestors. you’ll also meet jews who haven’t lit candles since they moved out of their parents’ house, eat bacon for breakfast, only go to synagogue on yom kippur, and believe that god created the universe and calls the jewish people to heal the world through good deeds and charity. you’ll meet jews who are deeply spiritual but don’t believe in god. you’ll meet jews who go to synagogue every saturday morning but don’t know a lick of hebrew. and that’s the coolest thing about judaism for me is that there are a shit ton of rules that you can study for years and years and you still don’t have to follow a single one to be jewish if you’re already part of the tribe.

[queenpiranhadon]

Things I need to See in the new Percy Jackson Show

Nancy Bobofit getting d e s t r o y e d by the giant water hand from the fountain

Percy overhearing Grover and “Mr Brunner’s” sEcReT conversation

The three Fates cutting the yarn in front of Percy and Grover on of Greyhound

Percy and Gabe having the ultimate show down in front of Gabe’s poker friends

Grover muttering “enchiladas” over and over again after being knocked out by the Minotaur

The “You drool in your sleep”

Clarisse dunking Percy’s head in the toilet and heh you know what happens next

The first capture the flag game :D

Auntie Em’s Garden with the Cheeseburgers

The trio meeting Gladiolus the pink poodle.

The awkward elevator ride with Echidna and her “Chihuahua” called Sonny

The weird water lady that gave Percy the pearls

it’s “C-H-A-R-O-N”, not “C-H-I-R-O-N” (Hermione vibes lmaoo)

Annabeth playing fetch with Cerberus

Persephone and Demeter bickering lmao

The tunnel of looooove :D

The ride in the back of a zoo truck.

The fight with Ares ofc

Poseidon calling Zeus the God of Drama 💀

And so much more that I can’t think of rn 😭😭

[cuubism]

I really like how you humanize Desire and give them a personality beyond Evil and Horny, but there’s something I always think about with them… of course they’re heavily tied to lust, what with their… everything. But in my experience, the thing people really talk about with desire is FOOD. I mean, how often is “guilty pleasure” about something to eat? We say junk food and little treat and craving and cheat day and all these things that ultimately boil down to food as a DESIRE, as a want.

I think Desire LOVES to eat. It’s 3 am where’s Desire? Oh they’re at the drive-thru and they just ordered one hundred chicken nuggets. What are they doing today? Oh they’re at the sushi buffet steadily depleting the ocean via tuna nigiri. When they say they could go for some ribs they’re going to eat an entire cow’s worth, with sauce, and maybe gnaw on the bones too. Those Instagram milkshakes with a pile of cream and a slice of cake and maybe some donuts threaded on the straw? Yea that was them. They had a craving, okay? Actually every “trendy” food that’s some kind of cheese-carb-hot Cheeto-meat-sauce-calorie bomb is probably their doing. They’re not DIET of the endless, okay? They get hungry.

Like yea Desire is hot and sexy. They also do things to cheeseburgers that would give the Corinthian nightmares. Probably inspired some of the Corinthian’s dietary habits, frankly. Dream saw Desire turn an entire field’s worth of watermelon to pulp on a warm summer day and was like “that’s the scariest shit I’ve ever seen. I’m making a guy about it”.

omg i love this SO much 😂 such a fun take on desire's power. yeah they would love food and all such indulgences. life's all about hunger, right?

i feel it's something desire and despair could bond over. despair's depression-binging a family size bag of m&ms meanwhile desire is dumping a whole bag of cheetos in their mouth just being like 'fuck yeah i love cheetos'

it's really no wonder every time dream's in the waking he's like 'i'm not hungry...' man's witnessed the horrors (super-mega-big gulp soda at 7-11) XD he's staying far away from that

this is so fun i'll incorporate it into my headcanons

[vampiretendencies]

request; as a cuddler person myself i wonder how JJ would be with an s/o that just loves to initiate physical contact like he does, randomly peppering his face with kisses, sudden hugs and giving him back massages and playing with his hair, just i see him and i want to burrow myself in his embrace, so your fics are literally a bible for me, thank you for sharing them with us 🫶

a/n; of course! i love that y'all love how i've been portraying jj's character as one of physical touch, i really imagine this is how he'd be and i like that you can relate. you are so real for this anon. first blurb !!!! also a repost, because it wasn’t staying in the tags ! requests are open

warnings; fluff!!

pairing; jj x fem reader

summary; all the instances that you were as equally addicted to jj as he is to you. and what's the harm in that?

"Keep scratching, and m'gonna be snoring against this window."

"Not like you haven't before."

The Twinkie deemed to have the most shade. You and JJ sneaking off nearly an hour ago, and the Pogues still haven't caught on— a miracle really.

Sprawled out on the back floor of the vehicle. JJ's focus was rolling a joint, but he ultimately could not.

He couldn't pinpoint wether it was the sulkiness of your saccharine voice, or the dancing of your fingertips to his tanned back. You glided your nails gently against the flesh beneath his button up shirt, rhythmically and methodically.

Up and down.

Up and down.

JJ waited for every last scratch like a small child.

Shell of your ear too his back as well, whilst you made your self comfortable enough to lie there for every last scratch.

It made JJ weak that you too commence physical touch. Not that he had any issue at all doing it himself— he discerned it as feeling desire.

That you desired him.

That by any means necessary you must be touching JJ's body in some form or some way, and that he must be touching yours.

Of deriving seen and safe with the one you are infatuated with most.

So no, you and JJ are not handsy every moment either of you get because you want to (both of you really do though) it's the closeness, the sensation of sincerity, being eachother's person.

Physical touch will always be a love language of insurmountable heights to constantly chase your fulfillment of craving another.

"Little higher, baby"

Voice clouded with exhaustion, he'd given up on rolling a joint— a slumber about to overcome him.

And you were too. A beaming expression on your features, whilst your scratching slowed and JJ's face did in fact meet with the glass of the window.

"Y'all know we're in public, right?"

Kie sighed, almost embarrassed if the both of you weren't her friends and if this wasn't her family's restaurant.

Initially, the contact started because you were cold.

Seconds pass, and you're then swiveling around in JJ's lap to face him. The booth of the wreck not exactly being the most convenient place to be sat chest to chest with your boyfriend, but it works.

John B, Kie and Pope took the other side of the booth, you and JJ both arguing with them that you didn't want to be separated from each other, forcing them to sacrifice their own personal space for the couples adoration.

"How are you not use to it by now?"

Pope crunches on a greasy fry, elbowing John B whom has a mouth full of sloppy cheeseburger. All Kie could muster was a milkshake because she complained that you and JJ were making her 'lose her appetite’.

You and JJ have a sly smirk shared, legs hanging aimlessly by the sides of his. Call it lovesick, that you'd both been admiring eachother's features, sat face to face— as close as could possibly be. You thumb over the little pattern of freckles that adorn right above his jaw line. As he gently hums in the palm of your hand. JJ's hands sat low on your thighs.

"Tell the entire wreck to get use to it because it's not going anywhere."

JJ sends Kie a toothy grin, whilst your head finds its way to JJ's broad shoulder. The muscular vessel, becoming the most pleasant pillow. You giggle into Ju's neck— such a somber, breathy laugh that has him nearly bursting at the seams.

He wanted to hear that on repeat— like physically record it, take an Airpod, and drill it into his memory.

You grasp him, in a hugging manner, the warmth radiating off of his skin like that of blanket. Digits worming their way up to the tufts at the bottom of JJ's hair, the nape so forgotten, and peaceful. Showing it some attention, has goosebumps arising throughout the entirety of JJ. You feathered the thick honey-like lock around your finger, wondering how hair could suit a person so.

"Ain't that right, baby?"

"Mhm."

JJ was on the brink of losing his job at the country club again, as he's about to be late for the third time this week.

Two out of those three times were early shifts, meaning he literally could not get out of bed with you in it. Having a significant other and working, was a handful for JJ- mainly because he needed that physical touch that simply no one else could give him.

All hours of the day, 24/7, without fail, but if JJ wanted money for certain things then he was forced to. He couldn't be a kelptomaniac forever, no, not with you in the picture.

At least, todays shift was an afternoon one.

Goes without being said, that this morning he truly took advantage of the remaining time he had with you.

But now, he may or may not end up late again due to him not being able to find his truck keys.

He rummaged though all of his belongings at the chateau, upon you waiting for him to just peek around the corner and all would be solved.

"Baby, have you seen my-"

There you stood clad in one of his sleeveless tees only, arms crossed, whilst the truck keys hang off of your index finger— awaiting him to grab them and that he did.

"Really I mean it, what would I ever do without you, pretty girl?"

He resonates, foot steps pacing whilst he motioned grabby hands at you— stumbling for your embrace.

A veiny arm practically magnitates itself to your back, traveling lower and lower until it grasps the bottom of your ass. Wallowing in his last few touches for the next several hours.

"Live a horrible, horrible life...”

The imaginative like tune of your voice has JJ melting into your skin, peering down like you would be whisked away in a matter of minutes.

"Damn right, baby."

Your socked-in tippy toes in full affect, whilst you gently hold either sides of JJ's face and he closes his eye's lovingly. Knowing full well what you were up to.

A fit of small, pepper-like kisses are daintily littered across JJ's face. Fingers rubbing forward in repeated— taunting motions. The residue of your glossed over, plump lips, is shining thoroughly about his face. But he always reminds you to leave it, so he has that reminder of you throughout the day. Forehead aligning with his, flush bodies.

JJ is salivating.

"Anymore of that, and I won't have a job."

"You're going to work JJ."

[justafewsmallsteps]

Another quick art and ficlet for @kagomes-hanakotobamatsuri ! This one focused on Week 3, Fertility and I used the Yellow Rose (new beginnings) as my inspiration flower. I started writing this while I was pregnant 2 years ago, but didn’t get around to finishing it until now.

Title: Potatoes Word Count: 1113 Rating: T Pairing: Inukag Warnings: Pregnancy

Try as she might, Kagome couldn’t help the uncontrollable (and unreasonable) flood of negative emotions that came with her unfulfilled pregnancy craving.

Wacdonald’s, of all things. Of course she was craving one of the most unobtainable foods possible in Sengoku and one of the easiest to find in her modern Tokyo. 

She didn’t really feel regret at leaving the modern world behind, not with Inuyasha and a life of friends and nature to surround her, and yet… 

Kagome found herself seething in angry tears. Angry at her body, angry at her attitude, angry at life. While she was always an emotional person, this hormone-induced storm was driving her crazy. She felt everything stronger, and no amount of logic or sleep was pulling her out of it because when she really really thought about it, it was all so unfair. She was raging at the world for making her choose between one family and another. The past was her future, and the future was now her past. But why did she have to choose? Why couldn’t she have a child with the love of her life and introduce her baby to her mother and grandfather and brother? Her righteous sorrow and her selfish cravings swirled into an indistinguishable mass of feelings. One second there was joy, another pain, the next irrepressible annoyance. She was guilty that she felt this way, upset as a tantruming toddler over a greasy burger and salty fried potatoes. 

And ultimately she was sad to be so far from her mother. 

Her thoughts turned to her poor husband. 

Inuyasha had been very sweet since she’d gotten back, and her pregnancy ramped up his doting completely. From warming her bath, to fetching her the ripest fruits, to building her the most comfortable approximation of a mattress possible, she felt spoiled and grateful. But her pregnancy-addled brain and hormonal body had her feeling so at odds with her heart. She loved being here. She loved her friends and the family they found in each other. She loved Inuyasha. 

Yet she longed for the crepes at the Shinjuku station mall, ice cream from a stand, steak from the grocery store cooked at home… her mouth was practically a waterfall at the thought. But by far the biggest craving was a Wacdonald’s cheeseburger with extra cheese and a side of fries dipped in ketchup. Make that two sides of fries. She could cry thinking about it, which she knew was stupid. 

It didn’t help that so many things made her feel nauseous. She’d helped out with pregnant mothers before, giving them herbs to help, learning from Kaede the rough timeline. She’d given reassurances and her best empathy, but in the throes of morning sickness Kagome wished to strangle her past naivety—and as much as she adored Kaede, the woman never actually had to go through pregnancy. 

Sango helped the most, understanding her anger, giving practical advice to give her the slightest relief. After all, carrying the twins had been an ordeal.

But Kagome was tired of ginger root and plain rice. 

She was tired in general. It has been such a joy to find out she was pregnant, and the first few weeks were a breeze. Then the morning sickness kicked in and subsequently kicked her ass. Morning sickness. God, it was unending sickness. Any time of the day sickness! She huddled under her blanket, willing the fatigue and nausea away. 

Then Inuyasha emerged from the door with her requested pile of potatoes. His look was apprehensive. He wanted to help her in any way he could, knowing that his wife often repressed cries for her mother. 

“I scrubbed ‘em already, and the pan’s good to go.” 

“Thank you, Inuyasha.” 

“I’ll cut ‘em too. It’s supposed to be like sticks, right?” 

She nodded. “Not too thin though.” Her husband was really good with a knife. She might be envious of his skills if he wasn’t such a good partner. 

Before he could start chopping, she stopped him. “Wait! Maybe cubes are better. They’ll move around the pan more easily.” 

“‘Kay,” he replied easily. 

Kagome stifled a groan as she slowly got up. Inuyasha had set the pan to heat already, so all she had to do was add the oil. 

“This look alright?” Inuyasha asked, checking in with her about the size. 

“Those look good.” 

Something about the sound of him chopping away triggered something. Everything triggered some emotion or another—but the domestic simplicity of their lives came at her full force as she heard the rhythmic sounds of their knife hitting their wooden chopping block. 

“It’s wonderful,” she whimpered, tears gathering in her eyes. 

“Woah, woah!” The hanyou turned around in concern, his hand immediately at her back to try to comfort her.  “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” she lifted her head and sobbed, unable to hold it back. “It’s just the hormones, but I do think you’re wonderful. I’m so lucky to have you!” she wailed. 

His entire being was on high alert since she got pregnant, and even though he knew emotional outbursts were bound to happen, he still went into overdrive trying to make sense of it and fix whatever he could. “T-thanks.” 

“Thank you for getting me potatoes so we could try making fries. I’m sorry I’m probably going to hate it or throw it up but it’s the closest thing I have to Wacdonald’s.” She wiped her face with her sleeve and sniffled. 

“I told you, woman, I’ll do anything I can. I’m sorry we don’t got wako’s or whatever here.” 

“I’m being unreasonable.”

“It’s normal. You know it is. I know it is. You shoulda seen Miroku while Sango was having her cravings. Damn near swindled every ingredient from every vendor in every town just to find something she couldn’t remember the name of.” 

Kagome gave a watery laugh. “That makes me feel better.” 

“We’ll make something good, and if you hate it and retch I’ll make you two something else.” 

‘Us two,’ Kagome thought in awe, placing her hand on her belly. “We appreciate you.” She sent him a smile and got on her tiptoes to kiss his jaw. 

“Yeah, yeah. If you’re done, I’m going to go finish cutting now,” he brushed off, trying to hide his blush as he turned around. 

“Okay, but we’re following you,” Kagome declared. As her husband resumed chopping the rest of the potatoes, she wrapped her arms around his middle and rested her cheek against his back. 

“I’m gonna be done in five seconds, you know.” 

“Go slower.” 

Inuyasha rolled his eyes, but the quick beat of the chopping slowed to a different, sweeter ballad, and Kagome hummed contentedly along.

[hog-zone]

assuming my ultimate role as the cheeseburger shithead

[steddiehyperfixation]

it means "i love you" (steddie ficlet)

When Eddie was little, his mother used to hold his hand and squeeze it three times. "It means 'I love you'," she told him, demonstrating one squeeze for each word, "and if you want to, you can give four squeezes back to say 'I love you, too'." So little Eddie squeezed back, that time and every time.

It was something that was just theirs, a silent communication, a wordless comfort. Oftentimes it was spontaneous, just gentle, random reminders of affection whenever the feeling arose, but sometimes it was purposeful, meant to be felt deeply as an encouragement or a reassurance.

On Eddie's first day of preschool, he held his mother's hand as she coaxed him through the doors of the classroom. He hadn't wanted to leave her side, but she had smiled at him and squeezed his hand, and it was those three squeezes, sending the warmth and promise of her love through their hands, that had given him the courage to let go and bound fearlessly into the fray of the other children.

On those dark nights when Eddie's father would get a little too drunk, a little too loud, a little too angry, Eddie's hands and his mother's would find each other and squeeze. The gesture was grounding, protective, safe. Eddie could never be afraid as long as he was holding on to her love.

When Eddie's mother got sick, her health gradually deteriorating until she was bedridden and weak and could barely even speak, she still reached for her son's hand and spoke with those three squeezes. I love you. Eddie squeezed back four times. I love you, too. She held onto life as long as she did for him, he knew that, but she couldn't hold on forever. Her hand went cold and still in his and Eddie, only eight years old then, gave three last squeezes as the machines flatlined and the doctors rushed in and a nurse carried him from the room.

That was the last time he ever used that gesture to signal his love.

Over the next twelve years, Eddie found other sources of love and warmth and safety, found it in the bonds he formed with his friends and his uncle and the little lost sheep who wandered into his D&D club. These relationships did not lend to hand-holding, though, and he had since learned how to express his affection for the people he cared about through words and favors and casual, friendly touches instead, and so Eddie never shared the little language of hand squeezes with anyone else.

Until now. Until Steve.

Steve Harrington has become Eddie’s biggest and brightest source of love and warmth and safety. Through the craziness of Vecna and the Upside-Down, through the trauma of almost dying and the long process of recovery, Steve was by his side the entire time, and Eddie has grown to care for him deeply. He doesn’t just love him, he’s pretty sure he’s in love with him, actually.

They’re dating now, finally, after all the months of flirting and pining ultimately led to confessions and kissing, but it’s only been official for a few weeks. Surely it’s still too soon to be dropping the L word already. Not that Eddie would know - he’s never been in love before, never even really been in a proper romantic relationship before. He doesn’t know what the normal timeline is for this sort of thing. Steve is the one with all the relationship experience, he’s the one who’d know, and so Eddie is waiting for him to say it first.

It’s getting increasingly harder to keep it in, though. Sometimes all Eddie’s love just bubbles over, the emotion growing too big for his body and demanding to be expressed. Right now is one of those times. He can’t explain why - it’s not as if Steve is doing anything different or special; they’re just sitting across from each other in a small diner booth, knees bumping together under the table, Steve talking around a mouthful of cheeseburger as he tells a story about something stupid one of the kids did earlier - but Eddie can feel his heart expanding and his chest growing warm, and he feels like he might burst. He laughs at the story and makes a comment to continue the conversation as he catches Steve’s hand, holding it across the table and releasing his bursting affection with three quick squeezes. I love you.

Steve doesn’t know what it means, doesn’t know the code or its intended response. He just smiles, squeezes back only once, and gently, idly, rubs his thumb across the back of Eddie’s hand. And that’s enough. Eddie doesn’t need Steve to know what it means, not yet. It's enough, for now, just to hold his hand, just to say it without saying it. 

Eddie starts doing this more often. Whenever his love threatens to overwhelm him, his hand finds Steve’s and squeezes three times. I love you. There’s no pattern to these moments, at least not one Eddie can predict, the feeling arising randomly and without warning at anytime, anywhere: on dates at diners or watching movies on the couch, during mundane tasks like cooking breakfast or cleaning up after hosting friends, in the middle of a kiss or in the bedroom, in the car with a gaggle of teenagers in the backseat or in the middle of Steve’s work. 

Steve still doesn’t know what it means. But Steve is smart, observant. Eddie can tell he’s starting to figure out that it means something, can see him piecing together the way those three squeezes are always accompanied by a softer smile or a deepened kiss or a gentler touch. 

It’s another few weeks until Steve one day returns Eddie’s squeezes with three of his own. ? ? ? The gesture is experimental, unsure, the meaning close but not quite there. Eddie’s breath catches anyways, his smile going soft and his cheeks flushing pink. He squeezes Steve’s hand four times. I love you, too. And Steve knows then; Eddie watches his eyes flash with understanding as it finally clicks in his brain. He doesn’t say anything, though, neither of them do. Steve just pulls Eddie closer and kisses him, soft and slow and deep, and Eddie melts into him.

Now the sun is rising, morning filtering through the window and casting streaks of light across Steve’s bed where the boys lay curled around each other. Steve is still asleep, snoring peacefully in Eddie’s arms, but Eddie is awake, quietly admiring how perfect Steve looks under the soft glow of dawn. The stripes of sunlight illuminate his bare skin with gold, highlighting the adorable little moles on his cheek and neck and shoulder. Eddie kind of wants to bite them. So he does. Because he can. 

Steve yelps when Eddie’s teeth latch onto his shoulder, driving his elbow backwards into Eddie’s stomach to push him off. But Steve is used to occurrences like this by now, so his shove is light and his tone is affectionate as he rolls over to face Eddie and mumbles, “You’re a menace.” 

“Not my fault you look good enough to eat, Stevie.” Eddie grins at him before pouncing again, smothering his boyfriend with more bites and kisses. 

Steve laughs and his attempts to shove Eddie away lack any real effort, until he finally retaliates by finding the secret ticklish spot on Eddie’s side, sending the other boy falling off of him and into a fit of uncontrollable giggles. 

“No fair!” Eddie gasps through his laughter as Steve tackles him with tickles. He admits defeat fairly quickly, breathlessly insisting, “Okay, truce, truce!” 

Steve lets himself be pushed off and settles back onto his side beside Eddie. His chuckles fade into a sweet smile, his eyes bright and shining as he stares at Eddie with an expression of pure adoration. Eddie feels his heart bursting again, the feeling growing bigger and bigger with every second that Steve keeps looking at him like that. He wants nothing more than to reach for Steve’s hand and squeeze three times, but he’s a little afraid to now that he's sure Steve knows what it means.

“Hey, Eds?” Steve speaks after a few moments of silence. 

Eddie shifts onto his side to face him completely. They're barely a breath apart. “Yeah?”

Steve touches Eddie's arm, starting from his shoulder and trailing down. His fingertips are so light as they skim the soft skin of Eddie's forearm and the palm of his hand, Eddie very nearly shivers. Steve slides his fingers between Eddie’s, closes them around his hand. “I love you,” Steve says, squeezing Eddie’s hand as he speaks, one squeeze for each word.

Eddie is overflowing, heart filled to the brim with all the love he has for Steve and all the love he feels in return. His smile spreads so wide his face might just split in two. He moves their hands between them, twisting their arms so that he can press a kiss to the back of Steve's hand. “I love you, too,” Eddie says back, with one squeeze for each word.

It's something that's just theirs now, this little language of hand squeezes.

(also on ao3)

[duranduratulsa]

80's Fest Burger 🍔 of the day: The Ultimate Burger at Dairy Queen #food #foodporn #burgers #cheeseburgers #TheUltimateBurger #dairyqueen #80s #80sfest #durandurantulsas6thannual80sfest

[mariacallous]

A trove of leaked internal messages and documents from the militia American Patriots Three Percent—also known as AP3—reveals how the group coordinated with election denial groups as part of a plan to conduct paramilitary surveillance of ballot boxes during the midterm elections in 2022.

This information was leaked to Distributed Denial of Secrets (DDoSecrets), a nonprofit that says it publishes hacked and leaked documents in the public interest. The person behind these AP3 leaks is an individual who, according to their statement uploaded by DDoSecrets, infiltrated the militia and grew so alarmed by what they were seeing that they felt compelled to go public with the information ahead of the upcoming presidential election.

Election and federal officials have already voiced concern about possible voter intimidation this November, in part due to the proliferation of politically violent rhetoric and election denialism. Some right-wing groups have already committed to conducting surveillance of ballot boxes remotely using AI-driven cameras. And last month, a Homeland Security bulletin warned that domestic extremist groups could plan on sabotaging election infrastructure including ballot drop boxes.

Devin Burghart, president and executive director of the Institute for Research and Education on Human Rights, says that AP3’s leaked plans for the 2022 midterms should be a warning for what may transpire next month. “Baseless election denial conspiracies stoking armed militia surveillance of ballot drop boxes is a dangerous form of voter intimidation,” Burghart tells WIRED. “The expansion of the election denial, increased militia activity, and growing coordination between them, is cause for serious concern heading into November. Now with voter suppression groups like True the Vote and some GOP elected officials targeting drop boxes for vigilante activity, the situation should be raising alarms.”

The leaked messages from 2022 show how AP3 and other militias provided paramilitary heft to ballot box monitoring operations organized by “The People’s Movement,” the group that spearheaded the 2021 anti-vaccine convoy protest, and Clean Elections USA, a group with links to the team behind the 2000 Mules film that falsely claimed widespread voter fraud. In the leaked chats, People’s Movement leader Carolyn Smith identifies herself as an honorary AP3 member.

AP3 is run by Scot Seddon, a former Army Reservist, Long Islander, and male model, according to a ProPublica profile on him published in August. That profile, which relied on the same anonymous infiltrator who leaked AP3’s internal messages to DDoSecrets, explains that AP3 escaped scrutiny in the aftermath of January 6 in part because Seddon, after spending weeks preparing his ranks to go to DC, ultimately decided to save his soldiers for another day. ProPublica reported that some members went anyway but were under strict instruction to forgo any AP3 insignia. According to the leaked messages, Seddon also directed his state leaders to participate in the “operation.”

“All of us have a vested interest in this nation,” Seddon said in a leaked video. “So all the state leaders should be getting their people out and manning and observing ballot boxes, to watch for ballot stuffing. This is priority. This goes against getting your double cheeseburger at mcdonalds … Our nation depends on this. Our future depends on this. This ain't no bullshit issue. We need to be tight on this, straight up.”

A flier using militaristic language shared across various state-specific Telegram channels lays out how this operation would work. With “Rules of Engagement” instructions, “Volunteers” are told not to interfere with anyone dropping off their ballots. If someone is suspected of dropping off “multiple ballots,” then observers are told to record the event, and make a note of the individual's appearance and their vehicle's license plate number. In the event of any sort of confrontation, they’re supposed to “report as soon as possible to your area Captain.”

“At the end of each shift, Patriots will prepare a brief report of activity and transmit it to [the ballot] box team Captain promptly,” the flier states.

The person who leaked these documents and messages says that these paramilitary observers masquerading as civilians will often have a QRF—quick reaction force—on standby who can “stage an armed response” should a threat or confrontation arise.

The goal of the “operation,” according to that flier, was to “Stop the Mules.”

“These are the individuals stuffing ballot boxes,” the flier says. “They are well trained and financed. There is a global network backing them up. They pick up fake ballots from phony non-profits and deliver them to ballot boxes, usually between 2400 hours and 0600 hours.” (This was the core conspiracy of 2,000 Mules; the conservative media company behind the film has since issued an apology for promoting election conspiracies and committed to halting its distribution).

Fears about widespread armed voter intimidation during the 2022 midterms—stemming from online chatter and warnings from federal agencies—never materialized in full. However, there were scattered instances of people showing up to observe ballot drops in Arizona. These individuals, according to the statement by the anonymous leaker in the DDoSecrets files, were not “lone wolves”—they were part of “highly organized groups who intended to influence the elections through intimidation.”

In one widely-publicized incident, two clearly armed people wearing balaclavas and tactical gear showed up in Mesa, Arizona, to conduct drop box surveillance. They were never identified, though a Telegram video on DDoSecrets shows AP3’s North Carolina chapter head Burley Ross admitting that one of them was part of his unit. Ross says that the individual was Elias Humiston, who had previously been conducting vigilante border surveillance. “I was well aware they were doing drop box observations,” said Ross. “I was not aware they were doing so in full kit.” Ross added that Humiston had since resigned from the group.

Seddon also addressed the “little incident in Arizona,” stressing the importance of maintaining clean optics to avoid scrutiny. “We had pushed for helping to maintain election integrity through monitoring the ballot boxes,” said Seddon, in a video message on Telegram. “We never told anyone to do it like that.”

The militia movement largely retreated from public view in the aftermath of the January 6 riot at the US Capitol in 2021. The high-profile implication of the Oath Keepers in the riot, which at the time was America’s biggest militia, thrust the broader militia movement into the spotlight. Amid intense scrutiny, stigma, and creeping paranoia about federal informants, some militias rebanded or even disbanded. But as WIRED reporting has shown, after a brief lull in activity, the militia movement has been quietly rebuilding, reorganizing, and recruiting. With AP3 at its helm, it’s also been engaging in armed training.

Election conspiracies have only continued to fester since 2022, and AP3 has been aggressively recruiting and organizing. Moreover, the rhetoric in the group has also intensified. “The next election won’t be decided at a Ballot Box,” wrote an AP3 leader earlier this year in a private chat, according to ProPublica. “It’ll be decided at the ammo box.”

“Every American has a right to go to the ballot box without fear and the authorities need to urgently learn the lessons of 2022—and the lessons contained in these documents—so they can prevent something even worse from happening in the coming weeks,” the infiltrator wrote in the DDoS statement.

[punkeropercyjackson]

Regarding Hobie Brown crossovers(by a pastel punk/afrosolarpunk)

Full 'fence full shade full salt shaker,he wouldn't fuck with other superheroes just because they're superheroes if they're white and same goes for white punk characters.Yeah i'm serious.Hobie is afropunk.AFROpunk,very different from 'normal' punk,by which i mean whitewashed punk because afropunk is the ultimate punk as punk was created by black people.Him,Kat Elliot,Ekko,Kipo Oak and the Abadeer Twins(Marceline and Marshall Lee)are afropunks/black punks so they'd not only be best friends but consider eachother siblings.Duke Thomas is afropunk too and i think him and Hobie would be in love actually.Nimona is an exception because she's trans so the her and Hobie content is on-point and based asf and founded in canon because of his relathionship with Gwen Stacy(who is also an exception because she's trans and i see her as a black haired brown eyed biracial lightskin afrolatina but chile).Him and Ichigo Kurosaki are twinnin' and he'd tell him he has peak taste in gyals for loving Orihime Inoue who as a black pastel punk myself i count as pastel punk poc rep even if not in aesthetic.Katara is canonically a native punk girl who's probs trans and Aang is a tibetan genocide survivor who's gnc and literally invented decolonization in his verse so Hobie would ride with them no matter what.Hobie Brown and Luz Noceda are the 'black sunshines who stick with other weirdos and killed a fascist as a teenager' duo.This sounds stupid but Sonic The Hedgehog and Rainbow Dash would the Spiderham to his Noir

But speaking of which,he would NOT be instant best friends with Noir nor IS he.Noir is Peter Parker so he's white as shit,it's a no go and y'all are foul for romantic N*irpunk-They wouldn't beef or nothin' but they ain't friends,they co-workers.The entire MCU is also a big 'ol nope.Clark Kent's title before The Man Of Steel all way back in his debut was 'Champion Of The Oppressed' so Hobie would at LEAST have mad respect for him and Clark would treat him to cheeseburgers,loaded fries and milkshakes and tell him he's a real hero.He'd be best friends with Tim Drake because Tim Drake knows how to act and save him from poser punk by introducing him to Skapunk.'Cool Dude Jason Todd' is a lie frabricated by white cis fangirls and idc about him and Kon-El Kent/Superboy unless it's the popular black biracial headcanon for him and even then Clark needs to be the black one instead of Lex Luthor(i want that capitalist pig's head on a plate.)and if you think Duke's not a core Batkid Batboy and Robin because he's not a white blue eyed boy,Hobie would guitar your ass for even joking about it.I've headcanoned Stephanie Brown as blasian/jamaican-korean with black hair and brown eyes for years and have aus of/joke about her and Hobie being half siblings because of it and her last name and the him and Percy Jackson posting by me is largely brought on by the black Pjo fandom claiming Percy since the 2010s due to reading him afrolatino from the books alone with zero contradictions in-text and 'read' LITERALLY in a lot of cases,as in we thought he was canonically and Percy is also completely accurately punk and Stephanie's canonically pastel punk so there it is

Thanks for reading my infodump,here's a Hobietism creature