#i had a very busy day at work today but my brain kept saying willy dick bert richter and giggling to itself like a 12yr old

[actualbird]

vyn's svartish birth name, as many of us know, is vilhelm richard albert de haspran. and those first three names are great because they actually exist irl (as opposed to "de haspran" which is made up, referring to "of house haspran" most probably) and thus have established variant forms and diminutive names. Vilhelm is a form of William, which has diminutive names like Will. Richard has diminutive names like Rick. Albert has diminutive names like Al. all that said, it would not be etymologically wrong to adopt a nickname for vyn from each of his birth first names' diminutives.

which means, if somebody wanted to tease vyn, they could technically call him "willy dick bert richter"

(....and then they'd subsequently have to start running away very fast, because vyn will begin hunting them for sport)

[serendipitee]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY BEA!! i hope you've had a lovely day so far <3 can i get meet-cute no. 44 spiced with some jukebox please?

AAAAH! THANK YOU! It was pretty good, got chocolate cake which always makes a day so much better 😂 thanks for the prompt and I hope you like it!!💜

44. You fix your hair in the reflection of a window to see them smiling at you through it. 

Luke was late. Rehearsal had lasted a little longer than anticipated but he had been so wrapped up in creating the perfect riff with Bobby, that he had completely forgotten about his shift.

 Only after Alex had ended their session by reminding them of his date with Willie, had Luke realized how late it was. He had changed in the garage, tying the tie while rushing out. Throwing his bike against the back alley’s wall, he had hurried to the front entrance.

 Reggie had helped him land the job at the café a little over a month ago. The owner was the father of the kid their bassist sometimes babysat and Luke had been late so often, Ray had given him the last warning just two days ago.

He cursed under his breath, as he stumbled over the uneven sidewalk. Taking his hat off, he stopped in front of the café’s window, running a hand through his hair. It stood every which way just like it always did and Luke was so busy with trying to make it seem like had used a comb sometime today, that he caught her gaze way too late.

 His hands froze, brain screeching to halt because even with the glass’ reflection, he realized that she was beautiful and very obviously laughing. Bashfully, he bit his lip, rubbed his neck.

 She didn’t break eye contact, though. Not when he stepped away from the window, not when he took the three steps to the front door or stepped through it.

 Luke tried to calm down his rapidly beating heart. He could always say it was due to racing here but when her smile grew a little bit bigger as he came closer, he knew it was a lie.

 “Hi,” he said when he was finally only a step or two away. His hands played with his hat nervously because without the glass separating them, she was even prettier.

 “Hey,” she answered.

 “Luke!” Ray’s voice came from the counter and he flinched.

 Right. Work. And he was late. Again. Spinning around, Luke started talking a mile a minute, throwing on his most winning smile. “I am so sorry, Ray, but Bobby really needed my help with that riff and I know, you said last warning, but maybe I can work for free this weekend. Just not Saturday evening, because we have a gig then but I can always take the Sunday morning shift, right? I know Kayla doesn’t like that one and you sure as hell wanna spend Sunday with your family, right and—”

 “Luke,” Ray said again, holding up his hand to stop him from talking.

 Taking a deep breath, Luke hoped he had convinced his boss enough about his good will to keep the job. He could really use the money and Ray was the best boss he had so far. Also, it certainly would make a better impression on the girl if he wasn’t fired right in front of her.

 His boss sighed, doing his best to keep a firm expression. “Fine, take the Sunday morning shift but I actually wanted to introduce to my daughter. She’s gonna help out during the summer break.”

 “Oh cool!” Luke exclaimed, heart beating more freely because he wasn’t getting fired. At least, not today. “Where is she?”

 Somebody behind him cleared their throat. He spun around meeting brown eyes and a smirk. “Hi, I’m Julie,” she said and his heart stuttered, because… “The daughter.”

 “Oh…,” he breathed out. Only now did his eyes travel past her face and he recognized the same uniform he was wearing. He swallowed because it looked way better on her and maybe he shouldn’t check out his boss’ daughter right in front of him.

 “It’s nice to meet you, Dad’s been telling me an awful lot about how you’re always late.” She chuckled.

 Luke rubbed the back of his neck, trying to will down the blush that dared to creep into his cheeks. His mouth opened and closed for a few times, brain not working properly because she was still smiling at him, eyebrows raised. If she was to stick around, he’d probably mess up even more orders than usual. Especially, if she kept looking at him like that.

 A hand landed on his shoulder. “Table six is waiting to order,” said Ray behind him.

 He nodded automatically, eyes still trained on Julie who tapped her fingers against the tray she was holding.

 Working with Julie wasn’t as bad as he had imagined. He didn’t mess up more than usual, she even laughed at a few of his jokes and when their hands touched as they reached for the milk, she blushed really prettily.

 Luke made sure not to be late for work after that. He even was early, if it meant he could sneak a kiss or two in the back alley before their shift together.

[undyingskies]

Adventure Days

request: yes;

“You did an amazing job with the booboo gf panic attack one.  Could you write one for Willex, Alex is having a bad day with dealing with being a ghost and his anxiety is bad and he’s pacing a lot and is on the edge of a panic attack, Luke finds Willie for him because Willie helps calm him down (Willie is his bf in this) as he’s talking to willie about what’s wrong he has a panic attack and then Willie has to help him though it. Thank you 🙏 I love all of your work your writing is soo good.”

“I hope it’s ok to request a fic. This is for Willex. They are on one of their adventures/dates, Alex is having a bad anxiety day but he didn’t want to tell Willie and ruin his day or scare him off. Alex is not being himself and Willie notices so they have a little chat about Alex’s anxiety and then Willie try’s his best to make Alex feel better. He’s the best boyfriend ever and finds ways to take Alex’s mind of it and makes the day really special for Alex. Lots of comfort, hugs and kisses.” 

A/N: I hope everyone enjoys this one, this was my first time writing about characters so I hope it turned out well! Both of these requests were very similar so I decided to combine the two!

warnings: none

tagged: @mah-gah-lee , she’s the best check her and her fics out!

_____________________________________

Alex had woken up this morning, his anxiety sky rocketing. He had no idea why, sometimes this just happened. Anxiety is a funny little thing that does this sometimes, it doesn’t need a reason to ramp up but it does. 

Alex did his best to get through it and shove it deep down. Today Willie and him were going to go around LA, Willie said he had a few places he wanted to show Alex.

He knew his boyfriend was really excited for the day and he didn’t want to ruin it. He wanted the two of them to have a good day, that was full of fun and laughter, he didn’t want it to be ruined by his anxiety. 

He was waiting for the time to come to meet up with Willie. They had both agreed to meet up at their spot near the beach. Alex had a few minutes before he had to go, which he spent pacing in the bands studio.

He was just trying to get a grip on his shaking hands and shallow breath before he leaves. What he didn’t realize is that Luke and Reggie had poofed in and were watching the blonde walk back and forth.

“You good there buddy?” Reggie asks, breaking the silence in the studio. Which caused Alex to jump. 

“Jesus! I told you two not to do that to me anymore!” Alex yells back frustrated. He’s already overwhelmed by his emotions, he didn’t need his band mates scaring him to add on top of it. 

“And I’m fine. Just a little anxious today is all.” Alex tells them. 

“Can we do anything to help?” Luke pipes up, worried about his friend. He can tell by the look on Alex’s face that he wasn’t just fine but knew not to push it.

“No, thanks though.” Alex says while checking his watch. “Shoot, I’ve got to go meet Willie. I’ll see you guys later.” With that Alex poofed out of the room, leaving his two band mates worried. 

Alex had poofed to the small park next to the beach. He watched as Willie kept busy skateboarding around and through the people who took up the sidewalks. 

Alex shook his head, laughing. It was always interesting to me that Willie did not seem to

mind just to go through people like that. While on the other hand Alex almost always refused to do so, it felt weird and Alex didn’t like that.

Willie rounds the corner, and a huge smile makes its way onto his face as he sees his boyfriend standing there waiting for him. He quickly hops of his skateboard and jogs over to Alex. 

“Hey Alex!” Willie says walking up to him engulfing him a hug not before placing a quick kiss to his boyfriends lips. 

“Hey!” Alex says, shoving his hands into his pant pockets, wanting to hide his shaking hands. “So, what do you have planned today?” 

“I was thinking we could walk around LA for a little today, maybe go up to the hollywood sign? There are also a few pop up museums I wanted to take you too!” Willie says filling him in on his plans. 

Alex can feel his breath hitch a little. He doesn’t know why the plans cause his anxiety to flare up a little more but it does. 

“Sounds good.” Alex says, trying to put on his best smile. Hoping Willie doesn’t notice.

Willie does notice, but chooses not to question it. He knows that if Alex needed to say something he would. 

Willie grabs onto Alex’s hand, and with a smile, poofs them away. 

Alex opens his eyes as his feet hit the floor, he opens his eyes and sees that he’s in some type of museum. An art museum is what he assumes based on the art figured around him. 

“Soooo?” Alex asks.

“This is the neon art museum, I figured you would like it since it’s not the normal type of art museum.” Willie says with a big smile, taking Alex by the hand and dragging him around the museum.

All that Alex can focus on is trying to keep his hand steady in Willie’s. He also couldn’t help but question if Willie could tell that his hand was sweatier than usual or the fact that he kept having to take deep breaths in and out. 

He wanted to keep his anxiety at bay but it kept seeming to break through the wall he was trying to build up.

It was like a damn and it had sprung a few leaks. He was trying to patch the leaks up before it took the whole damn down, but he wasn’t sure how he was doing. 

No matter how many pieces the two of them looked at, or how much information Willie told him about the pieces, Alex couldn’t focus. 

His facade was fading and he knew Willie could tell.

“How about we get out of here? Get some fresh air.” Willie offers noticing Alex’s unusual behavior. 

With that Willie grabs ahold of Alex’s hand again and poofs them out. As usual it’s Willie leading Alex, which causes those thoughts to sky rocket in his brain.

Days like this always cause Alex to panic and he’s started to put the pieces together. Anytime they want to go on a date or adventure, Willie is the one who takes the lead and plans it. 

It makes Alex worry that Willie feels like he doesn’t care or isn’t fun enough since he doesn’t plan these.

As Alex’s feet hit the ground and the view of LA comes into view he can feel a panic attack setting in. The view from the Hollywood sign is calming and it should be peaceful but right now to Alex, it’s anything but. 

Willie can tell something was off, he could tell all day. The sight of Alex right now sitting on the sign, with his head in his palms, worries him and he knows he should ask.

“Is everything okay Alex?” Willie asks him, placing a hand on his shoulder to hopefully comfort it.

Alex just shakes his head yes, knowing he has to get out of there and doesn’t want to start this conversation.

“Ya I’m fine, I just have to go.” For the second time that day Alex poofs out with no other explanation except for the fact that he has to go.

Alex plops down onto the couch in the studio, another body is besides him. As the panic attack fully sets in, he ignored the body next to him, closing his eyes and trying to calm his breathing. 

He can hear the body next to him shuffle around to face him. “You okay buddy?” Those words let him know that the body next to him belongs to Luke. 

Alex shakes his head no, letting his guard finally come down for the day.

“Want to talk about it?” Luke asks. Alex shrugs his shoulders knowing that he might as well get his emotions about.

“I just feel bad. Willie always plans our dates or our adventures and I never come up with any ideas,” he says, “I just feel like I’m boring or that I don’t do enough for the relationship.” 

At his words, Luke sits quietly by processing them. He knows they aren’t true, Willie adores Alex. 

“Have you told him?” Luke asks him. To which Alex responds with a shake of his head. “Well I will be right back.” Luke says with a pat to Alex’s thigh and then poof he is gone. 

Alex sits in silence for a while, hoping that his anxiety will pass. The longer he sits alone he can feel his breathing get shallower and his eyes well with tears.

He slowly slumps to the floor from the couch, letting the panic attack fully take over. He has his arms wrapped around his legs and head buried in between his knees.

Nothing going on outside his little bubble matters to him. He doesn’t hear the two sets of feet hit the floor or hear them come towards him.

He only notices when a pair of arms wrap around him and a voice is in his ear.

“I want you to listen to my voice Alex, okay?” Willie’s comforting voice says. “I want you to try to breath in sync with me okay? I am going to count to 4, 2 in and 2 out okay?” 

With that Willie starts to breath. He breaths in for one and two, then out for 3 and 4. He continues this until he can hear Alex to start breath in sync with him. 

Alex’s breathing starts to slow down, his shaking stops, and his crying can’t be heard anymore. He just lets Willie continue to breath and breath in sync with him.

Willie’s presence just calming him down, as well as his hands rubbing small circles on his back.

Willie let’s Alex sit between his legs for a little longer until he decides to ask questions.

“Want to tell me what this is about?” Willie asks him. “I know something was off all day.” He continues. 

“I, I don’t know.” Alex says trailing off not wanting to admit to Willie what was wrong.

“You do know, you and I both know that. So let’s talk about it.” Willie says not letting this go.

Alex nods, knowing his boyfriend was right. “Okay.” Alex says before he continues with what’s wrong. “I feel bad that I never plan dates or adventure days. I don’t want you thinking I am boring or don’t care.” 

Willie smiles softly at Alex’s confession. He loves that Alex cares but that has never been an issue or ever will be an issue for Willie.

“Aw Alex. You know I don’t care about stuff like that, I just love spending time with you.” Willie says. “All that matters to me is our time spent together not who planned it. Besides I love planning our days.” 

Alex smiles at Willie’s words feeling better. 

“If you ever want to plan something, let me know though! Or if you have something in mind we can do, we could plan a day together!” Willie offers.

A bigger smile makes its way onto Alex’s face at this idea, which in turn causes a big smile to

make it’s way onto Willie’s.

“I like that idea, it could be fun.” Alex says. “Also how did you get here?”

Willie laughs. “Luke came and found me. I knew something was up so when he told me what was happening, I knew I had to come back with him.” 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier.”

Alex says looking down, feeling a little embarrassed. “I just didn’t know how to say it and my nerves just kept getting worse so it made it harder.”

“I get that Alex. I hope you know that you can come to me with any of these things! I am a judgement free zone and all I want to do is be there for you.” 

Upon hearing those words from Willie, Alex flings his arms around his neck. Alex pulls him into a tight hug, his love for the boy overwhelming him.

“Thank you.” Is all that Alex says.

“Of course.” Willie says back, pulling back to place a sweet kiss on the lips of his adorable boyfriend.

They both pull back with wide smiles on their face. They spend the rest of the night, cuddled up in each other’s arms just enjoying each other’s presence. Of course kisses were stolen throughout the night, smiles never leaving either of their faces. 

[nooneactuallyasked]

Diner Gal - Reggie x Reader Part 8

Requested: It’s a series, there are no requests here!

Word count: 2,560

Warnings: Cursing

Summary: Julie and the Phantoms ( + Flynn ) go to a musical diner/café/restaurant for inspiration and hopefully a future gig but they end up meeting a very special waitress.

Note: This one is really long- the next part will be out tomorrow so be ready for that! Enjoy!

Edit: I FORGOT THE TAGLIST I’M SO SORRYYYYY!!!!!!

Part 1 here   Part 2 here   Part 3 here

Part 4 here   Part 5 here   Part 6 here

Part 6.5 here   Part 7 here

---

“Hey, Diner Gal.”

Y/N smiled at the floor before turning around to face her surprise visitor, “How’s it hanging, Leather Boy?”  She probably wouldn’t admit it out loud but Reggie’s random visits were probably the main reason why Y/N had been arriving at work extra early and leaving extra late. “Alright, Julie is kinda freaking out and getting Flynn to help her pick an outfit and then Flynn freaks out and gets Julie to help her decide on a theme for the marketing stuff. You?” Y/N shrugged, “The usual.”

“So, what can I do you for?” Reggie looked down, a red flush covering his cheeks and the tips of his ears, “Well, I kinda wanted to just hang out because Julie and Luke are “writing some songs” but we all know it’s just a date and Alex is with Willie and I’m willing to bet my left sock that they’re on a date too and I didn’t wanna be alone so I thought that you’re really nice so I came here.” A smile danced on Y/N’s lips and her gaze softened, he was too sweet and just hearing his voice made her cheeks heat up slightly. Reggie’s eyes widened and he met her gaze, a horrified expression painting his face, “Unless you’re busy, sorry, I’ll- I’ll just go-“

“Woah, Reg, chill out. I’ve just got to plan out the way we’re gonna decorate the room on Friday. Plus, I like having you around, it makes my job a lot less boring.” Y/N smiled before grabbing a black notebook an opening it to a new page, she scribbled down a title so she’d remember what it was for before bullet pointing her ideas. “You know, I just realised, how much work do you do? I mean, you’re around the same age as us, you have a job and you basically co-manage this place whilst also working here as an entertainer. Do you even go to school?”

Y/N chuckled and turned to face him, “This is a part-time job but I do usually sneak in extra hours just to help out Cal, he can’t do everything by himself and there isn’t anyone else to help him, plus he’s a family friend and basically my uncle at this point. As for school, I do online school which I pay for with this job, and it all comes full circle.” Reggie frowned, “Still, it sounds like a lot. You should come to Julie’s sometime during practice and just hang out. No folders, no notes, no work, just hanging out and having a good time! And  promise me you’ll start taking it easy”

“Alright, Leather Boy, I promise and maybe I’ll take you up on that someday. But for now, just focus on your gig that’s coming up in two days, not including today of course. Speaking of, do you mind helping me out with this, I get the impression you have a lot of ideas locked up in that brain of yours.” Reggie looked at her in surprise, “You really want my help? I mean, you could ask anyone for help, why me?” Y/N stared at Reggie, her brows furrowing as a  worried expression crossed her face, “Why wouldn’t I? Reggie you’re amazing and I wouldn’t want anyone else to help me.”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

---

“Finish up these papers for me, I’m going out.”

“Cal, I’m already doing more than I should, I have to finish off an essay and send it in before lunch. You haven’t even started your time listings for today yet.” Y/N blew at a piece of hair that kept falling into her eyes and glared up at Cal.

“I said finish them, I’m going out.” Cal slammed the papers onto her desk and walked out of the office. “Cal, what the fuck!” Y/N stood up, her chair slamming into the wall behind her as she ran after him, papers in hand, “Where the hell are you going?” “Out.”

Cal shot her a cold glare that made her freeze in place before walking out. Y/N groaned in frustration, throwing the papers to the floor, “Shit, fuck, kill me.” Sighing, she knelt on the floor and gathered the papers back up. “Fucking asshole, but he might have something important to do and he’s just stressed about it. Calm down, Y/N.” She kept muttering reassurance to herself so as not to lose her temper once again.

Y/N glanced down at the paper, it was her schedule for the note giving out extravaganza. Oh fuckerooney, she was meant to do that now and she was already late. Y/N ran into the office and stuffed all the notes into a bag which she slung onto her shoulder before sprinting out into the street and making her way to her first stop: Firecracker’s house.

---

“Y/N? You look like you ran all the way here…don’t tell me, you did, didn’t you.”

“Perhaps.”

Julie rolled her eyes despite the grin growing on her face, “You’re an idiot, you know that, right? And your face is really red.” Y/N gasped dramatically, bringing her hands to her cheeks in comical shock, “You don’t say?”

“Julie! Who’s at the door? Tell them to go away, we need to practice!” Both girls stared at each other for a second in slight shock before bursting into laughter, Y/N cleared her throat before turning to Julie, “You might want to cover your ears.” Julie raised a brow but complied as Y/N took a deep breath, “Oi, dunderheads! I thought you wanted your notes but I guess not!” Silence followed and it everything in her to not burst out laughing or snort. “And go…” Julie furrowed her eyebrows and the snickered at the sounds of scraping and scrambling that came from inside the garage.

“No! Please, give us the cheat sheet so we can win!”

“Not a cheat sheet and it’s not a competition but yes, please ignore him! We need your help!”

“Wait there’s a cheat sheet? No one said anything about a test!”

“Okay, boys, chill out and let her breath before she joins you in the afterlife.” Y/N sent Julie a grateful smile before setting the notes down on the coffee table and quickly stepping back as the boys (specifically Luke) dived for them. “So, as per mandatory instructions I need to explain the notes and help you use them to your advantage but I also took on all of Cal’s work until the weekend alongside my own so I hope you don’t mind me checking the finance’s, writing setlists and my essay and other work stuff. I promise you will still get the full explanation for each and every note!”

“You took on more? You already have so much, you promised that you’d take it easy!” Y/N rubbed her knuckles, “I know but Cal walked out on me earlier and hasn’t been himself lately so I needed to pick up where he left off. Plus, all the other workers need a manager and so that’s what I’ll become.” Julie sighed, stroking her finger along the piano keys as she sat down, “As longs as you’re sure it’s okay.” Reggie furrowed his brow but picked up his bass and slung it over his shoulder nonetheless, his concern and probable disappointment made the nasty, sinking feeling of guilt weigh down on Y/N. She didn’t like letting people down but she needed to do this, for her family, for Cal, for herself.

“So let’s do this, you can read through it and then I’ll walk you through it all.”

.

.

.

“Oh! Julie, can you call Flynn? I’d like to see what she’s got before putting everything out there.” Julie frowned, “Are you sure, you’re already doing so much, I don’t wanna-“ “Julie, it’ll be fine just call her up, I’d rather get this done, it’s now or never.” Luke snorted, Alex rolled his eyes but smiled and Reggie choked causing Y/N to raise a brow before shrugging it off, she just needed to see this through and then maybe Cal would be okay again.

A small smile made its way onto her face when she saw Julie and Luke link pinkies behind the piano, she didn’t that was possible but they were cute so you didn’t particularly us. And hey, she got Luke’s nickname spot on, so there’s also that.

“Okay, if you’re sure then I’m sure Flynn will be delighted.” Y/N grinned, “Sweetness, let me know when she’ll get here so I can prepare a space the printer in our office back at the diner.” Reggie furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head, kinda like a confused puppy, “How do you prepare it? Are you leaving already?” Y/N chuckled and shook her head, “No, the printer is wireless and connects to all of the staff’s phones and laptops. Since I only have my phone on me I’ll be using that.”

“Ohhhh! That makes sense!”

“Yeah, Willie said something like that when we went sightseeing and we say printings being put out without anyone nearby.”

“That’s stupid, just draw them or something, what if the wireless breaks?”

“You’re talking loud for someone with bad handwriting.”

---

“Hey everybody, your favourite manager has arrived!”

“Thanks for coming, Flynn. Y/N is just setting up the wireless connection back to her office, have you got a copy of the flyer or something?” Flynn grinned, “You know I do, and can I just say that I really appreciate me and my talents and you should too. You’re welcome.” Julie chuckled and led Flynn over to Y/N who looked up at them with a smile. “Hey, Flynn, it’s really great to see you again. Sorry about the short notice.” Y/N picked at the tips of her nails, a bashful smile making its way onto her face, “No problem, since Julie ditched me for her invisible boyfriend and his band geek friends I haven’t had much chance to hang around, now you’re my excuse.” Julie rolled her eyes as Flynn stuck her tongue out in her direction.

Y/N chuckled and put her phone down beside her, “Well, I’m glad to be of service. So, may I see your masterpiece?” Flynn grinned and pulled her phone out of a pocket, “I thought you’d never ask.”

---

“Thanks so much, Flynn. Your flyer’s amazing, we might have to hire you properly.” Y/N winked, a bright smile on her face, “Really? I mean, these guys really need my talents but if I find some time away I might drop by.” The two girls laughed and then a thought popped into Y/N’s head. She rummaged through her bag and brought out her notebook; she ripped out a page and wrote her number onto it. “Here, Julie already has pretty much all of my contact info but I just remembered you don’t, so here’s my number.” Flynn smiled, “Thanks, I’ll put it in my phone when I get home.”

“Y/N! Do your job and help us now!” She rolled her eyes and stood up, “Once again, thanks.” Flynn sent her finger guns in return. She walked over to where the ‘band geeks’ were congregated around the piano.

“Okay, so it says ‘Remember to interact with audience members’ and ‘Move around when possible’. What does that mean?” Y/N smiled and leant against the piano, “The first one is simple, Cal really liked how you guys react with each other but since we are a performing diner the audience want to be included as well, so interact with them, send them smiles, wave at specific people, pick people out of the crows, that sort of stuff.” She shifted her body to a more comfortable position, “As for moving around, again, we’re a performing diner, everyone will have a mic pack, since you can pick up, hold and wear physical things I’m gonna assume you can wear mic packs too. I don’t know how your amps work though so just move as much as possible, Julie if you can do the most moving around that would be great, we’ll have some performers dancing and working around you but you guys are our main attraction when you’re performing. Just do what you can to the best of your ability, that's all we ask.”

“Well, I’m sure we can do that, right, boys?”

“Obviously, have you not heard us rehearse this week? We’re going blow everyone’s socks off!”

“I have a feeling anything could go badly though, what if the mic packs don’t work or one of us doesn’t appear when we start playing, or- “

“Alex, chill out, this isn’t a second hotdog, and if it is we’ll eat it so it knows who’s boss!”

“Uh, Reggie, that’s how we died, I’m pretty sure the hotdog won.”

“Huh, yeah, that checks out.”

Julie and Y/N caught each other’s eyes and burst out laughing, “Can you guys stop having your little ghostie jokes, I’m trying to boast that I’m well on my way to being a famous manager to the She-Devil herself!”

“Well, now I’ve fulfilled my part of this mission I have to head off to my next mission, Agent Y/N is officially signing out.” Julie smiles and Flynn walks up, “It was great to have you on this mission, we wish you luck in your next. Stay safe Agent, we hope to see you again.” The three girls saluted each other before snickering while the boys stared at them in confusion. Y/N walked over to her bag and slung it over her shoulder, “I’ll see you guys later.” She pushed open the garage doors, waving goodbye one last time before walking out.

Y/N started walking down the path before a loud smashing sound caught her by surprise, “Wait!” A weird sensation spread over her hand, it was warm but cold and it made her skin tingle before she felt pressure replace the weird feeling and fingers curl around her hand. “How can I help you?” Y/N turned around, plastering her customer service smile onto her face.

“Leather Boy?”

She turned to see Reggie standing there completely frozen, holding onto her hand as though it were a lifeline. “Reggie? You okay?” Reggie shook his head slightly and smiled before looking down, a sheepish expression crossing his face, “Can I hug you? Please?” Y/N’s softened and smiled brightly, “Of course, Reg. Come here.” She reached up and looped her arms around his neck as he buried his face into her shoulder, “I don’t get many hugs, the guys don’t like them and I feel like it would be weird to ask Julie.”

“Well, you can hug me anytime…that sounds really weird.” Y/N chuckles as Reggie gazes at her in admiration, “So what did scream at me and- break a plant pot for?” Y/N peers behind Reggie and finds the origin of the smashing sound. “Uh, well I was going to just say goodbye but since we’re here would you mind if I came by the diner later?” Y/N smirked, “Can’t get enough of me?” Reggie grew flustered and turned his gaze to the floor, “Well- I like looking at the food but you being there is definitely a positive.” Y/N blinked, now it was her turn to be flustered, she didn’t expect him to just come out and say something like that.

“Right, yes, well, I’ll see you there then. Um, bye.”

“Yeah, yeah, goodbye.”

---

Taglist:

@hereforthejatp

@slutforjjmaybank​   @morganayennefertyrell​

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[pascalls]

Blinding Lights

Charlie finds solace in a familiar face after a run-in with Lovejoy.

I WANTED TO WRITE SOME CHARLIE x SAM ROMANCE SO HERE YOU GO.

Music: Blinding Lights - The Weeknd

For once, the anticipation that had settled in his clawed toes was not unpleasant.

It had been about three weeks since he’d last seen his… friend. Sam had ventured off on one of his lengthy hauls and Charlie was left to try making conversation with Larry whenever he stopped by Moe’s after work. The man was not the best conversationalist. Even less so than Sam. But it was, at least, company. Even if the late nights were earning him some ire whenever he made an attempt to return to the Lovejoy’s. Which he was beginning to fret about, whenever it came time to do so. Helen had been suspicious, as of late, wandering down into the basement at inopportune times and forcing the hybrid to take cover behind some piece of furniture or clamber out the window before he could be spotted.

Helen was clever. It wouldn’t take her very long to figure out what was going on, if he wasn’t cautious.

So he spent more time away, taking advantage of Moe’s cranky brand of hospitality and crashing in the man’s bed alongside him on more than one occasion. Regrettably, the paychecks that were coming from the school were still not enough for him to find his own place. But it was enough to make sure that he could get food regularly and the occasional small trinket or gift for Connor when he was able to see his son.

It was an improvement.

The muggy late-Spring air signified that they were certainly in for some heat in the upcoming summer season. Despite the slight slick of sweat that had coated his back as he strolled down the sidewalk, he didn’t allow the humidity to dampen his spirits. A busy day at the school - there had been an unfortunate incident where several gym students ran headlong into some cacti that Willie had forgotten to remove before the class encountered it - had meant that he was looking forward to meeting Sam in the evening to unwind.

Since the fall, where Charlie had allowed a bit of drunken boldness to make a move on the older man - one that he hadn’t been sure would be reciprocated - the two spent quite a bit of time together. It was a pleasant contrast to the nearly constant paranoia that he dealt with when he spent any modicum of time with the reverend. Something internal told him that this was a good thing, but he did his best not to get too carried away. Even if he and Sam had shared a few more… intimate moments, he was loathe to get so comfortable that he expected it as a default of their ‘relationship’. Whatever that relationship was. It had not been so neatly defined thus far. Part of him was okay with that - it meant that perhaps he was not in so deep that he could make a drastic mistake. But the other part of him… Well. He was desperate, deep down, for some solid footing.

Luckily, he was patient.

As he watched the sun begin to dip beyond the horizon, Charlie made his way towards the depot where he knew Sam left his truck. At times, the man would opt to sleep in the cab instead of actually trying to get back to his home. And Charlie didn’t mind that so much. There was something homey and comforting about that tiny bedroom where they didn’t have much of a choice but to press into each other’s personal space. It made for a good wingman… on more than one occasion. But his desires were not always so lecherous, he reminded himself. Today, he just wanted to bring his friend a hot meal that he’d picked up on the way - some teriyaki chicken and chow mein, along with a few cans of Duff - and make up for the lost time. Sam had confided into his more than once that life on the road was a bit dull and dreary. Returning to Springfield was generally the highlight. Charlie had agreed, but did his best to not be… so blatantly enthusiastic about it.

Tugging uncomfortably at his mask, he eagerly picked up the pace. Sam had told him that he’d be back by seven-thirty, and it was nearing eight already. Charlie looked forward to ditching his uncomfortable attire in favor of just being himself. Sam had kept his word - that he would not tell anyone about Charlie’s secret - and had kept that just between them. Even when they were around Moe, who was just as wise to the truth as they were. Charlie respected the man’s ability to keep things to himself, and he welcomed the fact that Sam didn’t seem to mind at all. It was a little strange, he told Charlie once. But, he admitted, that he’d seen a lot stranger during his years on the road. Charlie didn’t argue with that, even if his hind-brain wanted to. But it made the nights that they spent together a lot less strenuous. No hiding, no pretense. Sam was easy-going and confident in himself and what he liked. The hybrid found it… a little intimidating, at times. And might have found it almost frightening if Sam didn’t have a distinct way of putting him at ease.

Ugh. He felt himself a little hot in the face, just thinking about it.

His route took him past the church where he hesitated, feeling sweat bead at his temple for an entirely different reason. Hidden underneath his disguise though he was, there was something oppressive about the building that loomed overhead. He’d been hesitant to be seen in the church anywhere near the reverend as of late. It had a tendency to come back to bite him. He’d also pulled himself away from Chalmers’ obvious attempts at corralling him into this or that. Alarm bells had been set off at some point and he panicked, keeping his distance from both Tim and Gary for the sake of his own hide. Something had told him that despite his churning desire to be wanted by either - or both - of them, it was unwise.

Still… it was hard to ignore those desires. Every time he caught Lovejoy’s eyes, it opened up a whole box of feelings that he tried his hardest to cram down. The effort made him want to puke, at the best of times. At the worst of times, he followed his feet and simply absconded from the situation.

“I see that you’re purposefully avoiding me,” said a voice from a few feet away. It made Charlie jump and nearly drop the noodles in his possession, but he managed to keep his grip on it, glancing over at the church’s sign which had been hiding the reverend in question. Oh. He must have been changing the words and… Charlie hadn’t noticed.

Defensive, Charlie let out a little snuff. But he did his best to keep his cool. He didn’t want to ruin his mood by getting into an argument. Especially not when he was already late in meeting Sam. The last thing he wanted was for the other man to think Charlie had stood him up. “I had plans. And I’ve been busy with work. I’m not avoiding you.” Internally, he wondered if maybe he was trying to reassure Tim. That he hadn’t forgotten about him. Even if their encounters were strained, once upon a time, he thought that the man might return those torrid feelings that the hybrid had clung to now for months.

“You’ve had a lot of plans the last couple of weeks,” Lovejoy replied, clearly suspicious of the hybrid’s motives. He shut the box of letters he’d been using to change out the sign, glancing down at the bag of food that Charlie was carrying. “Are you doing food delivery now?”

“No,” Charlie said calmly, ignoring the reverend’s initial observation. Sure. He had plans a lot. Which was mostly just crashing with Moe. But Lovejoy didn’t need to know every detail of his life. “If you wanted me to share my calendar with you, I would have. But you never asked.” It was a bit of a dig. To make Tim really consider how overbearing he was being. As usual, it probably wouldn't work. But that wouldn’t keep Charlie from making the attempt anyway. The holy man was usually too far up his own ass to realize.

Lovejoy tried his best to maintain his composure, drifting closer to the hybrid as if he were going to engage in friendly conversation with a parishioner. As he was expected to do. But his stare was still accusatory. And Charlie noticed that it looked like the man wasn’t getting much sleep, the dark circles underneath his eyes even more prominent. “Not knowing whether or not you’re down there makes it hard for me to figure out what I need to do to keep Helen off your trail. Checking in would at least be appreciated.”

The hybrid stared at Tim, trying his best not to let guilt jab at him from somewhere in the back of his mind. No, it wasn’t his problem if Tim wanted to continue to lie to Helen, whether or not Charlie was there. At this point, he was loath to say that he even wanted to keep being a secret from the reverend’s wife. The town gossip though she was, would anyone really believe her if she happened to mention that there was a reptilian succubus living in her basement?

Probably not.

Charlie breathed out a little sigh, leveling his stare at the other and refusing to duck his head to appear meek. “Then just assume I’m not. I’m making a fair enough income now. I can find other places to sleep that are a little more comfortable than under your train set.” It was a lie. Sort of. The income had nothing to do with the fact that he had an ally or two that he could rely on for a nice, warm bed. Even if Moe’s had a weird smell to it, he at least had a mattress. And Waylon was occasionally accommodating, as long as Charlie could provide a bit of ‘entertainment’ and distractions in the process. And Sam… Well… When he was in town, Charlie had never been turned away. It brought a bit of a warm feeling that settled in his belly and emboldened him just a little in the face of the reverend.

Tim looked a bit taken aback. As if he’d been slightly offended. “So… what, you don’t need me anymore?” It had been clearly meant as an attack, but there was a slight twinge of hurt in the man’s voice.

The hybrid looked away briefly, not meeting Tim’s gaze. He recognized when he was being guilted. Lovejoy was good at it. “That’s not what I said.” Maybe. Maybe he didn’t need Tim anymore. Despite the aching in his chest, he’d long-since been affirmed that there was nothing for him if he chased the expectation of being welcomed into the reverend’s arms. But he hesitated to admit that here and now. Not when he was running late to meet Sam. “I’m not ungrateful,” he continued. “I just… I’m not interested in burdening you with myself for any longer than I need to. You can’t tell me you don’t want that space back to yourself?” He turned the situation back around on Lovejoy, pressing him to say otherwise. Maybe trying to get him to admit something one way or another.

“I’m only concerned with what you’re telling people about me,” Tim said, tension in his shoulders. He didn’t like being cornered like that, Charlie knew.

“I’m not telling people anything. Even if I did, who would believe me? You’ve got… y’know. Jesus on your side or whatever. Anyone here would take your word over mine in a heartbeat.”

Lovejoy found it hard to argue with that, but he chased the urge to do so, taking a step which blocked Charlie’s way forward. Whether he did it on purpose or not, Charlie felt slightly threatened, feeling his scales bristle in mild fear underneath his clothes. The time was ticking by. Sam would undoubtedly believe that something had happened if the hybrid didn’t get going now.

“You’re my responsibility. If I let you wander around without knowing where you are or what you’re doing, who’s to say that Burns won’t come looking for you?” Lovejoy stared at Charlie with apparent conviction. “The bible says that a good shepherd lays down his life for his sheep.”

“I’m not a sheep!” Charlie snapped, though he did his best to keep his voice down. It was not yet night and there could be others passing by. “I’m sick of you calling me that. I wasn’t put here for you to guide me to the light. You’ve got plenty of people in there,” he pointed to the church, “waiting for you to tell them what to do and how to live. Just because you hit me with your car doesn’t make me one of them.” Angry though he was, he wanted nothing more than to leave. End the conversation. Do not pass Go. Do not collect $200. So he pushed past the other, trying to make his way towards the depot again.

“I just want to save you!” Lovejoy called after him, desperation lacing his tone. But Charlie was not feeling kind.

“From what?” He called back to the other, whirling around to narrow eyes at him. “From my Sin? Because right now, the only thing I need to be saved from is you.”

Tim paused, clearly taken aback. “You don’t mean that.”

Exhaling into his mask, Charlie bit back an aggressive retort. “I only have so much fight in me,” he said, loud enough just for the other to hear above the buzzing of the nearby street lamp. “I can’t keep chasing something that you’ve told me time and time again is wrong. You tear me apart in six different ways every time you look at me and you still expect me to get on my knees and beg you for a single positive interaction. I don’t want to do that anymore.” He sighed again, shoulders slumping. “You know how I feel. How I’ve felt. If you don’t want to - or can’t - return that, then the onus is on me to move on.”

The reverend seemed rooted to the spot, unable to say anything in return for a few moments. As if he was having a hard time refuting what he was being told. Charlie knew he couldn’t. It had been more than enough times that he’d said to the hybrid that what he felt was wrong - they couldn’t be together. No matter what emotion or desire lay underneath the surface of Lovejoy’s religious shell. And Charlie was simply tired.

“I-” Tim began. But he was cut off as he looked up to see that they were no longer alone.

“Charlie?”

The hybrid turned back around to see that their conversation had been interrupted by Sam. He blinked in surprise, then moderate embarrassment. “God, what time is it?” He said, haphazardly trying to cover up what he and Lovejoy had just been discussing. “I didn’t mean to make you come this way to find me. I was on my way, honestly.” Sheepishly, Charlie smiled from behind his mask. It wasn’t immediately obvious, but Sam’s easy-going nature meant that he could return the gesture just as easily.

“It’s alright. I just thought something mighta happened. Glad t’see that you weren’t held up too much,” Sam replied cheerfully before his attention shifted to the reverend to whom he gave a courteous nod. “Rev.”

Lovejoy was tense from head-to-toe, forced to process Charlie’s last words and put one and one together to come to a conclusion that Charlie knew he’d hear about later. The reverend’s gaze was squarely on the barfly before he was able to regather his composure and return the nod. He didn’t know the man’s name. Had never bothered learning it, even if Sam made the rare appearance from time to time in the church. He had no particularly strong religious convictions.

Charlie glanced back at Tim nervously. No doubt, they’d have to pick up that conversation later. “It was nice to see you, Reverend,” he said after a moment. “We’ll chat again soon.”

Sam looked from Charlie over to Lovejoy, the tension in the air palpable. But he said nothing, gesturing for the hybrid to accompany him back to the depot. His home was a little too far for them to walk there without the trip taking them well into the night. So the truck would have to do for now. Not that he or Charlie minded very much.

Charlie followed behind, casting one last look at Lovejoy. He could swear that the holy man looked like he was about to break into a tirade, but he heard nothing and eventually focused fully back on Sam, hoping that his pre-planned rendezvous would block out the feeling that he’d just shattered Lovejoy’s heart in some type of way. Maybe because he knew how it felt…

“You alright?”

Sam’s voice broke through the veil of guilt that threatened to pull Charlie under. Shaking it off, Charlie glanced up at the other and nodded, allowing himself a slightly nervous laugh. “Yeah. Just… you know. Getting preached at sometimes kind of throws me off.”

“Didn’t seem like a typical sermon,” Sam replied, glancing at Charlie knowingly from behind his glasses.

Clearing his throat, Charlie tried not to make eye contact. He had a… difficult time lying to Sam. Whether it was because he genuinely trusted the man or didn’t want to lie to him, he wasn’t sure which. But he didn’t want to get into the particulars. Especially not when he felt like it… might put things at risk. Nope, he didn’t want that. “I brought you some food!” He said instead, holding up the bag with the chicken and noodles within. Hoping that would be a sufficient distraction. Luckily, Sam seemed to accept that the hybrid was not an open book at that exact moment, and he took the bag from the other before patting Charlie’s plastic beak affectionately.

“Y’can take that off if y’want. There’s nobody on these side streets and nobody at the depot. We shouldn’t be bothered any.”

Breathing out a little sigh of relief, Charlie tugged off the mask and cloak, holding them in his arms as they walked. It was becoming more of a chore to keep his disguise maintained from day to day. Whenever he got the opportunity to not wear it, he considered it a blessing.

“That’s better,” the barfly said with a little smile.

Charlie had to keep himself from giggling like a fucking school girl. Fuck. What was wrong with him? They’d certainly had more intimate moments than this, but something as simple as that tiny, hidden compliment had him reeling. Stupid.

They walked side by side until the depot fence came into view and the hybrid followed Sam through the gate and towards his rig. The bright red was always a stand-out and made it easy to identify. He was thankful for that, knowing that had he not been able to tell the difference, he may have frightened some random trucker on more than one occasion.

“Wasn’t too bad of a trip, I take it?” Charlie asked as he came to the door, waiting patiently as it was unlocked and Sam clambered inside, reaching out to offer a hand for Charlie to climb up right after him.

“Boring, but otherwise pretty run of th’mill,” Sam replied, shutting the door behind him and making his way back to the not-very-roomy bedroom that he slept in. Charlie set the bits of his disguise in the front seat and hopped back with him, making himself comfortable on the bed and giving a lazy stretch. Sam settled on the floor for now, opening up the food that Charlie had brought him and making short work of it. Obviously hungry.

“You never seem to have very interesting stories. Unless you keep them all under wraps.” Charlie scooted up behind Sam, rolling onto his back on the bed and batting gently at the man’s hat like a lazy cat.

“Warehouses and truck stops don’t really make for interestin’ conversation.” Sam removed his hat and placed it over Charlie’s face with a gentle huff of laughter in between bites of his food. Something about his rumble of a laugh made the hybrid’s stomach flip pleasantly. It was a comforting sound after his earlier confrontation with Lovejoy. “Besides, I have more interestin’ stories whenever you drag me into somethin’. Wouldn’ make sense t’tell you about ‘em when you were there.”

“Aw,” Charlie replied, sitting up and setting the man’s hat atop his own head to wear. Feeling a little goofy and giddy as he did so. “Didn’t realize you felt that way.~” His voice lilted teasingly as he settled into their usual back-and-forth routine of flirt after flirt. Despite Sam’s quiet, old-man demeanor that he normally carried around, they both played off each other fairly well. It was something Charlie cherished. And something he figured that not many others were able to experience when they were sharing Sam’s company. It made him feel… special. Wanted.

He kept that bit to himself.

“So…” Sam began once he’d finished his food and was working on one of the beer’s that Charlie had provided him with. The hybrid was not as interested in getting drunk tonight, but he’d more than adjusted to the perpetual scent of alcohol and cigarettes that had long-since settled into Sam’s clothes. In fact… there was a part of him that enjoyed it. “I’m guessin’ I didn’t actually interrupt a sermon earlier.”

Charlie tensed slightly, reaching up to remove Sam’s hat and set it aside as he shifted his gaze away from the other. Guilt threatened to bubble up inside of his gut again. “...That obvious, huh.”

“A little. Th’way he was lookin’ at you made it look like you’d ran over his dog.”

Scoffing, Charlie didn’t answer right away. Uncomfortable with the topic, but knowing that he likely owed Sam some form of explanation. He trusted the man. Though he worried, internally, that getting too far into his fucked up dynamic with the reverend would frighten Sam away for one reason or another.

“He was just upset that I wasn’t coming around as often. Mostly just been… minding my business whenever you’re not here. Hanging out with Moe… That kind of thing.” He hesitated to go into further detail than that. Sam didn’t need to know that he occasionally slept over with Smithers too. It made him feel like a little bit of a… slut… Not that he would say so.

“Uh-huh,” Sam replied, nursing his beer and seemingly lost in thought until he continued. “And he’s… not likin’ that he can’t keep tabs on you?”

“...Possibly.”

“Hm. Sounds like he’s upset that you’re not as obsessive over him as he wants you t’be.”

Charlie frowned a little to himself. Sam had probably hit the nail on the head. His tail curled around himself as his insecurities were brought to light, though he had a hard time being upset at Sam about it. The man was only saying what he’d been able to observe. It must have been pretty obvious, now that Charlie thought about it… “I’m sick of his hovering. It’s gotten out of control.”

“And y’told him that?”

“I tried to.” Charlie’s ears dropped back against his hair, admitting in a not-so-verbal way that he had not been as assertive as he probably should have been.

There was silence for a moment as Charlie stared down at the sheets on the bed and Sam seemed to be focused on his drink. Until he seemed to be finished with it and set it aside to toss in the garbage later, getting up with some effort and getting himself into the bed to sit next to the hybrid. Charlie glanced away from him. A bit ashamed that the topic of Lovejoy had been brought up at all. Drunkard or otherwise, Sam had some good powers of observation. As much as Charlie enjoyed his company, it made him feel like he was being seen right through.

“He’s gonna have t’accept that you’re your own person eventually. Whether or not he wants to,” Sam finally said after a few minutes had passed.

“I’m not even sure I’ve accepted that yet,” Charlie responded with a bit of a bitter laugh. He hadn’t meant to say that, but it came out of him all the same. “And the last thing I need is to put the burden on you to help me do that. It’s not your responsibility.” He found himself echoing what he’d told Lovejoy, but from… a different part of himself. With Lovejoy, it was through tired defeat that he tried to remove himself from the situation, but now… He just didn’t want to saddle Sam with more drama that the man surely didn’t need in his relatively quiet life.

Before he realized it, he felt a press against his shoulder, turning to glance at Sam as the other closed the distance between them, watching for a heart-pounding moment as the barfly reached to intertwine their pinkies as they had done several times before. It was a much more romantic gesture than Charlie had initially meant it to be the first time they’d done it. But now… It set his nerves alight and made him wish that his face weren’t so red.

“Might not be my responsibility, but m’happy to help you along,” he murmured to Charlie, the slight slur in his words not at all dampening the intent which made the hybrid wheeze a little with embarrassment as he unwittingly scooted his hand to take a more firm hold of Sam’s. Maybe clinging to it. Just a little. God help him.

“You could really fool everyone, you know. Into thinking you’re just ‘some guy’ at the bar,” Charlie said after a moment of trying to calm his racing heart. “And not… you. The you that I know.”

Sam chuckled a little. “The me that you know is not as drunk as I usually am.” Leaning over, he pressed a kiss to Charlie’s temple. A gesture which did not qualm the aggressive thump-thump going on inside of Charlie’s chest. He didn’t altogether understand why he couldn’t get himself together. He was not unfamiliar with the concept of being smitten, but he’d been denied a positive response to it for so long, that he hesitated to call it that this time too.

At least until another kiss was placed to the side of his face and he faltered, unable to resist allowing himself to hope. Maybe it would be different. Lovejoy never gave him this kind of affection so openly. Not without a fair amount of pestering. Not without an argument and harsh words. Not without pleading and tears and a thick, heavy feeling that hung around his head. Right now… all he felt was light. There was fear, but as the seconds ticked by, Charlie tried to muffle it.

And eventually he turned, meeting Sam’s gaze for a prolonged moment. It was honest, he thought. There was no sense of an ulterior motive. No reason for Charlie to believe that this was all a long-con. Sam was not that kind of man. Right?

Right?

His hesitation was not missed. Reaching up with his other hand - his fingers rough and calloused, Charlie noticed - Sam placed it gently against Charlie’s cheek. Holding his face delicately and softly, as though he was trying to provide the kindest support. To offer warmth through the touch that would squelch that fear.

God, Charlie thought.

Let me not be wrong again.

As though a dam had burst, Charlie leaned forward and captured Sam’s mouth with his own, drawing him into a heated and nearly desperate kiss that Sam returned after a moment of trying to process the act. Every time Sam went away for a while, the hybrid forgot just how warm and comforting his kisses were. His hands were strong, but kind. He tasted like beer and smoke, but Charlie couldn’t get enough. He drank in the affection to the point where he thought that it would drown him. But it would be a sweet death, Charlie thought.

For once, he forgot about Lovejoy. As he broke the kiss to take in a breath, he caught Sam’s eyes again.

“I missed you,” he blurted out against the other man’s lips, red in the face when he realized how brazen the admission was. But he certainly wouldn’t take it back. The feeling was only solidified with Sam nodded, a bit breathy in his murmur of agreement before Charlie felt himself being pulled into another kiss, toppling over and onto the bed as he felt Sam’s arms closing around him.

It hadn’t been the first time they’d spent the night together, but there was something different now. Charlie hesitated to put words to it, but as he felt himself get lost in the comfort and security of Sam’s presence, he knew that he would have to, eventually.

For now, he was okay with accepting the warmth and safety he was being offered. He was okay with murmuring more sweet words when he could find the words to say. He was okay with being vulnerable. He was okay with the warm, smoky sound of Sam’s voice in his ear. He was okay with the touch of his hands; the heat between their kisses; the thrumming of his own heart.

He thought about the next time Sam would have to go away for a while. It made him ache.

Maybe he’d tag along.

In the corner, his phone lay unattended, dutifully remaining in silent mode as the night wore on. The screen blinked lazily, but otherwise didn’t bother to alert its owner that he had missed several calls from the reverend.

They would go unanswered tonight.

[tonystarkbingo]

TSB Discord Party 3 Prompt Summary Game

How to play: we all took turns throwing in three prompts, and then everyone turned those prompts into a fanfic blurb or summary.

phone, blanket, "nope" - suggested by @rebelmeg

@fightingforcreativity - "Tony put your phone away," came a sleepy voice from beside Tony. Because Steve wanted, needed to sleep for a few hours now, he finally had given up on being nice to his newly wed spouse. "Nope" 'That is a war declaration!', the blond thought and decided to do the one thing Tony had told him the genius hated. Steve tucked the blankets away and hooked them.

@rebelmeg - The thud of the phone hitting the floor clinched it for Tony. "Nope." Today was going to be a bad day. Curling up further under the blanket, he decided to dedicate his immediate future to a nap, and to hell with everything else. "Nope. No adulting today. Nope."

@jamesbuckystark - "Nope. Can't today." Tony says and hangs up the phone. He crawls back under the blanket fort where Morgan is waiting for him. It's Daddy/Daughter Day

@somesortofitalianroast - Bucky was bundled up in a blanket on the couch with some hot chocolate. He checked his phone, and saw that it was snowing outside. “Nope,” he said to himself, “not going for a walk.”

@darthbloodorange - Steve pulls the blankets further over his head. "No." 

Tony laughs at the images his husband made, wrapped up in their blankets. "Steve, you can't just ignore a call from the Secretary of Defence." He says. 

"Well, I am." comes a grumble from within the blankets. 

"Steve" He wheezes. "That's not very Captain America of you" 

"Don't care. I'm on vacation. Don't want to. Nope."

apples, cats, Science - suggested by @fightingforcreativity

@saganarojanaolt - "Unlike most cats, Alpine was well behaved. Except when there was something in his place by the window. It didn't matter what it was, if it was there it got dropped. Spices for cooking, flowers to liven up the place, apples to ripen, science books to study, didn't matter. It got summarily pushed off. So Alpine could take his rightful place. "

@menatiera - Cats were known to dislike citrus fruit. So Tony wouldn't have been surprised to find out Bucky's cat disliking oranges and such. Instead, Alpine decided that he absolutely hates apples with furious passion. Tony obviously needs Science to answer why. And if he gets to spend some more time with Bucky while conducting experiments with his cats, well, that's just a happy coincidence.

@rebelmeg - Dum-E was very excited. It wasn't every day Ton-E let a Kit-E into the lab, and today there were two Kit-E's. One of them was chewing on Bruc-E's airpods, but Dum-E knew that was okay. Ton-E liked to tease Bruc-E about his bad apples.

@jamesbuckystark - There was a flash, and now instead of Rhodey, Bruce, Peter, and Harley in the lab with him, there are two cats and two apples, all with unimpressed eyes looking at him. "This is not magic! It's science, I swear!" Tony pleads. "I'll fix this!"

@somesortofitalianroast - Tony was working in his lab, cranking out music, when two things happened: Alpine jumped up on his work bench, and Dum-E somehow got a hold of an apple, which he promptly threw at Tony. Hilarious ensues.

@darthbloodorange - Steve looks down at the mess of apples on the lab floor and sighs. He knew better than to ask at this point, but he does anyway. "Why?" "Science!" Tony says, as if it should be obvious. Socrates knocks another apple from down from the shelf, watching as it lends on the floor with a wet crunch. "See!"

dragon, hotel, blue - suggested by @saganarojanaolt

@jamesbuckystark - Rhodey blinks his eyes. In front of him is a hotel with a red dragon standing in front. "Do you have the courage to wear the Blue Tunic of Valor and save the prince?" It rumbles. Rhodey looks up. In the penthouse is Tony, dressed in a beautiful gown.

@menatiera - Being turned into a dragon is generally not a horrible thing. Dragons are cool, majestic and all that. Even if blue is not really Tony's color, he could say at least ten other things from the top of his head to happen to him that would be worse than having his color scheme messed up in a magical animal transformation. Still. Being turned into a dragon in the middle of the hotel lobby on his honeymoon is still rude.

@rebelmeg - "Pepper, there is a dragon in my hotel room. No, you did not mishear me. Yes, Pepper, there is a dragon in my hotel room. NO, I DIDN'T DO IT! ...at least, I don't think I did... Pepper, stop shouting. Pepper. Pepper. Pepper. Oh, for the love-- PEPPER! Hi. Yes, I'm shouting, and so are you! Are too. Are too. Are-- hey! Just because I regularly play with things I shouldn't doesn't mean the gigantic lizard with pretty blue scales is automatically my fault! No, don't call Stephen. Pepper. Pepper, no, he'll just get all uppity like he does, you know how I-- DAMN IT, PEPPER."

@gavilansblog - His room in the Blue Dragon Hotel wasn't blue. It was an off-white beige color. Also, it had no dragons. Well, that was just rude, Tony thought, staring at the nondescript fruit bowl print over the bed. The least a Blue Dragon Hotel could do is have, y'know, a blue dragon. Tony sat down on the bed, then jumped up with a yelp as something nudged the backs of his legs. He turned and looked in completed befuddlement as a blue snout poked out from under the bed, followed by a very definitely draconic little body. Well, that did explain the name.

@somesortofitalianroast - “Pepper. Did you really make reservations at the Blue Dragon Hotel?” 

“Yes, Tony. I did. Why?” 

“Because it’s an RV park, not a 5-star hotel.”

@darthbloodorange - (Iron Man Noir!) Tony sits down on the edge his hotel bed with a huff. He pulls the large, blue scale out of his travel bag, turning over it in his hands. It had been months now, but Tony wasn't about to give up on the search for the dragon that saved his teams life. (Dragon!Steve?)

enlightment, postcard, chocolate - suggested by @menatiera

@jamesbuckystark - Tony got some interesting mail today... from Victor von Doom. He got a postcard and a chocolate heart. BE DOOM'S "Well this is a time of enlightenment," he muses

@menatiera - 'Willy Wonka is behind the dementor attacks because he wants to sell more chocolate.' Well. Postcards are usually not the format for these kind of enlightments to go, especially not postcards without names to them. Tony turns the paper in his hand, deep in thought, then mentally shrugs, because why not? It's not the weirdest thing he's heard. And he can relieve his nerdy days while investigating for clues in a fictional book series for proof or denial of this statement.

@rebelmeg - "riddle me this, jarvis," tony said as he turned over the postcard in his hand. "how precisely did someone manage to make an actual postcard out of chocolate and send it through the mail intact?" 

"perhaps you should bite it and find out." jarvis replied pertly.

with a roll of his eyes, tony had to tell the idiot side of his brain to sit down and shut up. "y'know j, i think you might be spending too much time around harley." 

"blasphemy. i'm a perfectly enlightened being that needs no outside interference to contribute to my sass." 

tony choked on his bite of postcard.

@somesortofitalianroast - It wasn’t any day that Steve got a postcard in the mail. Especially not one that was addressed to him and didn’t get bundled up with the rest of his fan mail. This postcard was completely blank, except what appeared to be a chess move, but he wasn’t sure. The front of the postcard had a picture of a chocolate store in Ukraine with the tagline “find chocolate enlightenment in Kyiv.”

@darthbloodorange - It's no secret that out of all of them Tony was the Chocolate hoarder. While Tony is away on a business trip the Avengers raid Tony's chocolate stores. But while searching for chocolate they find some enlightening postcards, postcards that reveal a more better kept secret between Tony and Steve.

Dreams, Wheel, and Dynamite - suggested by @jamesbuckystark

@rebelmeg - "just think, rhodey. a huge wheel of fireworks and dynamite. it's what dreams are made of!" tony's eyes were wide, sparkling with mania, and rhodey was justifiably concerned. "tony, i don't think you should watch mythbusters anymore."

@somesortofitalianroast - In his dream, he was in a tour bus. He was watching the band, some playing cards, some reading, some sleeping, but no one seemed to notice him. The movement of the wheels of the bus was hypnotic, as was the guitarist gently strumming on an acoustic guitar. The singer, half asleep with a book, started singing along. He couldn’t make out most of the words, but he seemed to be singing about dynamite. Interesting choice for a lullaby, but Steve wasn’t complaining. The singer looked right at him, paused in his singing. “You should wake up now.”

@27dragons - Tony was usually much more careful around dynamite than Pepper gave him credit for. Sure, he sometimes played it fast and loose with safety, but actual dynamite was no laughing matter. So it absolutely was not his fault that the charge blew early, before he had a chance to get back behind the protective barrier, he would like that understood. But regardless of whose fault it was, he had a concussion, a ringing in his ears that wouldn't go away, and every time he drifted off to sleep he was having the most peculiar dreams -- or rather, dream: a single dream, over and over, of a giant wheel covered with beautiful blue-steel eyes that stared at him in shock. "I think," he told Pepper when she came to check him out of the hospital, "that I've met my guardian angel."

@jamesbuckystark - "I had the weirdest dream," Tony rubs his head. "I was a contender on Wheel of Fortune, and Pat Sajek told me I didn't win even though the phrase was 'Made from dynamite and daisies.' And I knew what the phrase was!"

@darthbloodorange - Tony is sure he was having a bad dream when he walks into his lab to find Steve fastening explosives to the wheels of his motorcycle. "Wheels shouldn't need dynamite to turn!" Tony cries, throwing his hands into the air. "I can't believe you're making me say this but Steve, this is too dangerous. That's too much firepower, you're going to be blown into space!"

"Well, I've always dreamt of being an astronaut." Steve says, grinning.

varenyky, U2, dancing - suggested by @somesortofitalianroast

@jamesbuckystark - "Is this what all galas are like?" Bucky asks, eyes wide. "No," Tony examines his nails. "U2 never plays a set for galas. They only dance at the Christmas ones, and I have never seen varenyky on the buffet table."

@rebelmeg - tony wiggled his booty as he danced around the kitchen, singing along to U2 and putting frozen pierogis on a plate.

"shaking what your mama gave you?" nat asked as she came into the room, smiling as he waggled his eyebrows at her. 

"you betcha. want a pierogi?" he rattled the frozen dumplings on the plate. "gonna microwave some." 

natasha's eyes narrowed, then she was storming across the room and seizing the plate. "i am absolutely not letting you eat that." 

tony whined as she dumped them right in the garbage. "my lunch!" 

"if you want varenyky, i will make you some. you will not eat that trash." 

tony was still pouting over the garbage can. "but i'm hungry." 

"come on," natasha grabbed his sleeve and tugged him over. "i'll teach you how and it'll go fast." 

or, how tony and nat bonded over pierogis while dancing to U2

@darthbloodorange - (College AU) It was 4AM. He knew they knew they were probably get into loads of trouble. Any moment now Security would be knocking on their door with a noise complaint. But Tony couldn't care less, he's hasn't been so happy in a long time. He was dancing with Steve in the kitchen to U2, cooking varenyky.

[nancypullen]

So Far, So Good

I have no beef with November.  She showed up right on time and brought some lovely chilly weather with her.  She’s sprinkling her colorful magic all over the trees and generally being delightful.  Unfortunately she is also the gateway to holiday food and I’m like a junkie who’s been clean for a year but I’m ready to score a casserole.  I eat a very healthy balance for ten months and then *BOOM*  the Butterball turkeys show up at Kroger and all bets are off.  I wish I could buy willpower.  Sadly, I can’t even say that I fight temptation, oh no, I jump in with both feet and create the temptation.  On Saturday the mister and I were running errands...Lowe’s, Kroger, Tractor Supply for donkey corn to keep the deer in our yard during hunting season, the usual.  I told him that we needed to swing into the library parking lot because I had a couple of books on hold.  Were these volumes to entertain or expand my mind? No. They will only expand my thighs.

Come on.  You can’t tell me that that doesn’t look like fun!  Last week I baked cookies.  I hadn’t baked anything in forever because we don’t need it hanging around the house.  But I had an excuse.  I had swapped cat sitting duties with a neighbor (Willie’s other mom).  They were out of town for a few days in September and I dutifully went over and got the mail, fed her cats twice a day, scooped litter, let them out in the morning and back in for dinner, and gave them love.  In turn, when we went up to Maine she came over and scooped litter, fed our kitties wet food once a day, brought in the mail, etc.  She even took our garbage can to the curb and brought it back in.  They left town again just before we returned from our trip but had a relative house sitting.  They returned last week.   She’d given me a restaurant gift card as a thank you for watching their kitties, so I did the same but also used my gratitude as an excuse to make my favorite fall cookie - gingersnaps!  I figured I’d take a batch over with the gift card so they’d have dinner and dessert. Pulling that bottle of molasses out of the top cupboard felt like a homecoming. I uncovered the ol’ KitchenAid mixer and had one of the best afternoons I’d had in ages.  Playing music, baking cookies, and watching leaves flutter to the ground through the kitchen window - it just doesn’t get much better than that.  Of course I kept a baker’s dozen on a plate for us and they were gone in no time.  The floodgates are open. I did it.  I sabotaged myself.  And I loved every minute of it.  Please do not suggest that I could enjoy the same magical experience by whipping up a batch of bran muffins or tofu brownies.  That’s just crazy talk. Bustling around the kitchen and filling the house with delicious aromas - it’s such simple comfort.  My sister and I have had conversations recently about how, now more than ever, it’s important to keep sweetness and simplicity in our lives.  I actively seek out the whimsical side of life - enchanting art, silly poems, looking for clouds shaped like animals, all of it.  I’m drawn to fairy tales and their illustrations. I love a happy ending.  Remember when I mentioned that I’d picked up a watercolor by Maine artist Marvin Jacobs?  I didn’t choose a seascape or a harbor painting.  I picked this guy.

 It’s so important to keep sweetness in your life, otherwise the daily news will drag you under.  Be aware, be informed, work diligently for change, but leave room for lightness.   I’m saying all of this so that you’ll know why my heart cracked open and I cried when my sister sent a box full of joy straight to my mailbox.  Seems that she caught wind of a woman clearing out some treasures and she picked up a batch of Royal Albert Beatrix Potter figurines for a song!  She picked out three for me as a surprise and I can’t tell you how happy my heart is when I look at my kitchen window sill.

Jemima Puddleduck,  Mrs. Rabbit & Bunnies, and Old Mr. Brown.  Oh, my heart!  My sister told me that she knew I needed the Mrs. Bunny figure because she’s cuddling her two babies - like my two babies! 

Add to that the reminder that my Grandma Ethel called me Cuddlebunny, sewed bunny patches on my jeans during the summer that I chased her sheep and named all of her chickens, and I’m a puddle.  My sister and I love Beatrix Potter’s sweet (there’s that word again) stories and illustrations.  When the mister and I went to London I scoured the stalls on Portobello Road to find an old Beatrix Potter illustration to bring home and frame.  It hangs in the sweetest room in our house, the grandgirl’s room!

Can you imagine what it meant to me to open that box from my sister?  That was a box of love, my friends.  Now I need to add to my collection.  My sister is a fan of Hunca Munca, the busy little mouse.  She kept this figurine and said she identified with it.  I think she’s spot on.  I’ll have to look for more Hunca Munca for her.

I think we both agree that something about these little statues reminds us of time spent in Weiser.  Being at our grandparents little pink house was paradise.  My sister stayed at Grandma’s elbow, watching her sew and cook.  I stuck to her like glue outside learning about her chickens and flowers.  Her gardens were so lush.  Once when I was pretending to be outlaw Belle Starr, western rule-breaker and heartbreaker, I used one of her giant snowball bushes for my hideout.  It was so big and full that I could crawl under the lowest boughs and sit up inside.  It was beautiful and smelled good, just the sort of spot Belle would choose.  We were always so carefree in Weiser - my brother and I taught the sheep to play hide ‘n seek (really!).  If you’ve never seen a sheep hide behind a tree and peek out at you, you haven’t lived.  We named chickens after characters from Robin Hood.  My Grandpa Carl thought I was a hoot.  He spoiled me and I was his favorite.  Turns out that every one of his grandkids could say the same.  We were so safe and loved on their patch of Idaho.   I tried to put plenty of magic and whimsy into my kids’ childhoods.  They probably aren’t even aware that some of their silliest thoughts were planted there early.  I’ll bet when they see birds lined up on a wire and their first thought is “bird meeting” they don’t remember the dialogue I’d make up when we saw things like this -

Bird meeting!  #1 on the agenda is cat location...new orange tabby moved in on corner of Elm and Oak, so be aware.  Worm of the Month award goes to Maurice for the whopper he pulled out of a garden on May 5th. Way to go!  Congratulations to Stanley and Mary on hatching 4 eggs last Wednesday. That’s a lot of mouths to feed, so if anyone has extra bugs, slugs, or worms let them know. You get the idea.  They were little, Mom was just rambling at a red light, but I’ll bet that BIRD MEETING pops into their heads when they a feathered gathering.  Besides, when you anthropomorphize creatures I think kids are less likely to harm them and more likely to empathize. Whimsy with a purpose. Wow.  I apologize.  This blog post is all over the place and as usual I had no plan.  I just sit down at the laptop and empty my brain.  It’s therapy for me and a sleep aid for you. Win-win! On that note I will wrap this up and go dance around the kitchen with a broom.  I used panko when making last night’s eggplant dinner and based on the crunch I heard under my slippers this morning I didn’t sweep it all up.  Your assignment for today is to seek out sweetness.  When you find it, hold on to it.  Take it like a vitamin every day for a healthy soul.   Have a cookie too, can’t hurt might help. XOXO

[nflfanpointii]

40 is the new 35 when it comes to NFL quarterbacks like Tom Brady and Drew Brees

Back in the day, it was less common for quarterbacks to excel past their mid 30’s. Sure, there was Warren Moon, Vinny Testaverde, Brett Favre, Kurt Warner, and John Elway. But that short list is dwarfed by a painfully longer one filled with Hall of Fame quarterbacks who seemed to crap out well short the 40 year marker.

Even these all time greats experienced precipitous drop offs in their mid to late 30’s. For Roger Staubach, Steve Young and Fran Tarkenton, it came at 37. For Bart Starr, Jim Kelly, Dan Marino and Dan Fouts, 36. For Johnny Unitas, George Blanda, Bob Griese, Joe Montana and Terry Bradshaw, 35. For Otto Graham, Joe Namath, and Troy Aikman, 34.

This makes it all the more amazing that so many older quarterbacks are still playing at an elite level in today’s NFL. There might very well be five to seven future Hall of Famers starting in the league right now. Tom Brady and Drew Brees are officially in their 40’s. Philip Rivers and Ben Roethlisberger are both 36. Aaron Rodgers is 34 and Matt Ryan is 33; and both signed extensions in the past couple years at times in their careers when former quarterbacks usually retired.

It’s true, quarterbacks are more protected by the rules of the NFL than ever before, and this certainly has played a part in their new found longevity. In 1978, the league restricted contact between defensive backs and receivers to within five yards of the line of scrimmage. This resulted in a dramatic increase in passing attempts per game, which in turn suddenly made the quarterback position more valuable.

Since 1993, quarterbacks could simply escape the pocket and throw a pass out of bounds without incurring an intentional grounding penalty. This made it harder for pass rushers to get to them before they got rid of the ball, therefore avoiding a sack or quarterback hit.

Roughing the passer penalties have become more and more common as the definition has broadened to include late hits, forcible hits below the knee, hitting the helmet, and landing on the quarterback with one’s own body weight.

Last year, former Packers linebacker Clay Matthews was flagged twice for roughing the passer while making what seemed to be perfectly executed sacks. Ironically, it was probably a hit on Packers quarterback Aaron Rodgers the previous season that may have led to the rule change that cost the Packers two victories a season later.

One would think that with these modern day quarterbacks dropping back more times throughout a game than ever before, their careers would be shorter, not longer. That’s why I think there’s more to it than the implementation of more rules that inherently protect the quarterback.

Because they played before GMO’s and modern day fast food chains, many old school players of the past had access to better food. But that doesn’t mean they took full advantage of their timely access to healthier lives. Joe Namath smoked cigarettes on the sidelines for god’s sake.

I doubt they were paying attention to the pH of their foods like Tom Brady or paying upwards of $200K a year like James Harrison did on therapy treatments like massage and acupuncture. The modern day athlete has to be almost obsessive in their quest for success. Talent alone won’t cut it anymore if you want to stick around in today’s NFL.

Extremely strict diets, fitness, and recovery programs have taken the place of binge eating like Babe Ruth, snorting cocaine like Diego Maradona, and binge drinking like Lawrence Taylor. The two oldest current quarterbacks in the NFL also happen to keep two of the strictest diet and fitness regimens across all sports.

Drew Brees has been working with Todd Durkin in San Diego, CA since his days with the Chargers. Brees loves working with Durkin every offseason. “Whenever I come back for the summertime to get in the best shape of my life for training camp, he’s always got something new or a few new things that make me feel like we’re way ahead of everybody else.”

What’s interesting to me, however, is that even though Brees isn’t Durkin’s biggest, fastest, or most agile athlete, he may have benefited the most simply because he’s willing to work harder than everyone else. And that’s saying a lot considering Durkin’s vast client list also includes Carson Palmer, Aaron Rodgers, Darren Sproles, LaDainian Tomlinson, Mark Sanchez, Alex Smith, Brandon Cooks, Reggie Bush, Charles Tillman, Zach Ertz, John Brown, Dontrelle Inman, Malcom Floyd, Ryan Griffin, Chase Daniel, Sean Canfield, Josh Freeman, and my fellow Saints Ignatius College Prep alumnus, Igor Olshansky.

”Drew Brees, first and foremost, is a special person. I will probably not have the opportunity to work with a guy like that in the next 20 years. His concentration and focus are amazing, and he works extremely hard. He’s not the biggest guy or the fastest guy, but he’s going to beat you with his athleticism, his smarts and because he’s such a competitor. I don’t care what it is, the dude wants to win at anything. He’s always restless and never satisfied,” said Durkin.

Brees is absolutely methodical in his training and game preparation. “I know where I’m going to be at a specific time,” he says. “I know what I’m going to be doing; I know what needs to be accomplished for me to feel confident and go out there and play at the highest level.”

His focus has shifted from the archaic meathead approach to training he learned in college at Purdue to a more functional and efficient approach. “I think maybe those [exercises] served the purpose at the time.” Drew says. “But now I’ve wised up to the things that I need to do in a position-specific and functional fitness kind of way to benefit me as a quarterback.”

If you have 30 minutes to kill, watch this video of Brees’ workouts with Durkin.

I’ve been a fitness trainer and instructor for 12 years and I’m telling you, Durkin is the real deal. I love his approach to fitness. I stopped lifting heavy weights years ago and have focused more on agility ladder work, TRX training, yoga, and generally maximizing my strength and endurance gains while also minimizing sheering forces on my joints, tendons, and ligaments.

Tom Brady takes his fitness protocol in an even more holistic, and dare I say, Eastern direction. He and his trainer/business partner Alex Guerrero founded the TB12 training facility next to Gillette Stadium in 2013. Guerrero, though highly controversial, isn’t a total quack in my opinion.

Of course claiming his supplements could curemultiple sclerosis, AIDS, concussions, and other diseases with no shred of testing or evidence based proof was incredibly disingenuous and downright dangerous. Settling with multiple investors out of court for defrauding them is no better either.

But I have to hand it to him: he has kept Tom Brady in phenomenal shape to survive and thrive in the NFL past the age of 40. Guerrero earned a Masters Degree in traditional Chinese medicine from a school in LA that closed after losing its’ accreditation. He is not a physical therapist and does not hold any Western degrees that would qualify him to do a lot of the work he does with his clients.

Yet, Guerrero is highly respected and retained by many professional athletes including Rob Gronkowski, Julian Edelman, Wes Welker, Danny Amendola, Willie McGinest, Jimmy Garoppolo, LaDainian Tomlinson, and Chris Hogan. Instead of focusing on lifting huge weights and tearing muscle fibers, Guerrero prescribes more body weight moves and exercises with resistance bands that are designed to increase the muscles’ “pliability.”

Brady often sees Guerrero twice daily and receives intensely specific massages in which he tenses the muscles while Guerrero massages them. The goal is to lengthen the muscles and increase their flexibility so that Brady can withstand the weekly car crash that is an NFL football game.

The other main focus is to reduce inflammation in the body by maintaining a strict diet. Brady does not eat white flour, white sugar, MSG, iodized salt, coffee, caffeine, alcohol, fungus, dairy, nightshade vegetables and most types of fruit. This diet may sound strange, but it’s most likely derived from the Ayurvedic tradition which is over 5,000 years old and trusted throughout Asia as much as we trust Western medicine.

The part where Brady and Guerrero lose me is by making sweeping statements like everyone should drink 25 glasses of water a day, or eat this exact diet, or that everyone needs to consume TB12 branded electrolytes or wear TB12 branded muscle recovery pajamas.

I’m not 6’4” and 230lbs; I’m 5’6” and 130lbs, so I don’t need more than 65 ounces of water a day, unless Tom wants me to get hyponatremia and die of brain damage. Don’t just replicate a professional athlete’s diet and fitness regimen. These have been specially tailored to them. If you work for Google and sit at a desk for eight hours a day, you probably shouldn’t eat and drink exactly what Tom Brady does.

It’s okay to be skeptical too. Brees isn’t much more trust-worthy with his shameful peddling of Advocare products. It’s important to rely on evidence-based research conducted by independent bodies without a financial stake in the products they test. Even more important, think for yourself and do your own research before listening to athletes that have a financial stake in the health philosophies they are sharing with the public.

If you aren’t hip to eating according to your Ayurvedic dosha (My dosha is roughly 70% Pitta, 20% Vata, 10% Kapha) like Brady seems to, you can go the Western route and still learn something about how to function at a higher level, no matter what your lifestyle is. Drew and Brittney Brees got food sensitivity blood tests done back in 2004. That’s when Brees found he had significant sensitivities to gluten, dairy, and certain nuts.

“As you can imagine, I was shocked because I was consuming most of these things every day. And just to think how long I’ve had these sensitivities and had continued to feed them. Guys coming in fresh out of college are used to going to the training table and eating and drinking whatever they’re given.”

“In many cases, I see myself as a veteran player – pulling those young guys aside and, as part of teaching young players how to be a pro, talking to them about their diet, their sleep habits and their recovery. They’ll start to ask questions like, ‘Hey Drew, what do you do?’ That’s when I explain to them that I use coconut milk and almond milk products.”

It’s not just Brees’ direct teammates like Reggie Bush, Sean Canfield, Chase Daniel, Brandin Cooks, and Ryan Griffin who have followed his lead when it comes to diet and fitness. “It took the fourth or fifth time hearing, ‘You need to do this,’ and then reading about Drew Brees and Tom Brady and others who are your peers doing it,” Kirk Cousins said. “I realized, ‘If I want to hang with these guys, then it’s time to stop playing around.’”

18 of the 32 quarterbacks starting in the NFL are over 30 years old, and by September that list will grow to 21 with the 30th birthdays of Cam Newton, Tyrod Taylor, and Andrew Luck. Even though five quarterbacks were drafted in the first round last year, there’s a good chance less than a third of the starting quarterbacks in the league will be younger than 30 years old.

40 might be the new 35, and it’s not just because of some changes in the rules. Players are spending highly on optimizing their health and performance through a multitude of practices both new and incredibly old. Cousins is right, it’s time to stop playing around.

[carrowe]

AMYCUS CARROW is A DEATH EATER in the war, even though HIS official job is as A CURSE BREAKER & HIT MAN. the TWENTY SIX year old PUREBLOOD is known to be PATIENT and RESERVED but also VIOLENT and TWO FACED. some might label them as THE DEVIL IN DISGUISE. fc: ryan gosling 

        hey it’s lizzie back at it with being a fucking idiot ( aka i can’t write good, wholesome characters that are not james to save my life so even though i love mae... she gotta go :/ i’m sorry!!! ). so bringing back my favorite sociopath but... revamped 2 be darker because was inspired ♥ !!

ANTHEMS:

rail road track - willy moon // blood on my name - the brothers bright // shakin - willy moon // dogs of war - blues saraceno // feel it still - portugal the man.

full playlist: (x) pinterest boards: v1. v2.

BACKGROUND / FAMILY ( bound to change probably ):

Amycus Abigor Carrow is the first born child of the Carrow dynasty. His father named him after the prince of hell, in the hopes that his son would prove himself worthy of the name. Amycus would, but not in the way his father had hoped.

As a child, Amycus was very quiet. Mostly kept to himself and his sister. Never harmed a fly. 

Amycus was the product of a loveless marriage, based on pureblood politics. His parents couldn’t stand each other, and were each other’s polar opposites. Amycus would later realize that they were doomed from the start.

child abuse tw:// Amycus’ father was a cold business man, and was not very interested in being a father to Amycus. He mostly made excuses to be as far away from the family life as possible. 

So Amycus was left to his grandfather, a man that put great emphasis on pain ( believing it was the only way that Amycus would learn and become stronger ). Lessons were drilled in with corporal punishment, and the emotional and physical abuse he suffered at the hands of his father would eventually break him down into something colder and darker. Feelings were deemed weak, and had to be firmly repressed - which would leave behind a shell of a boy. 

Gained a definite rebellious streak during his teenage years, and would do EVERYTHING and anything to fuck with his dad.

Eventually moved out, at the age of 15. Figured either he’d move out or kill his father, and settled on the former.

Remaining summers were spent living at the Hog’s Head Inn.

The Carrow family did not want to air their dirty laundry to the world, so they never formally denounced Amycus. Most other pureblood families know that they had a falling out though.

Alecto is his other half, and they come as a matching set. Without her, he feels incomplete, and she’s also the only person who truly knows him. 

MAIN CHANGES FROM THE PREVIOUS AMYCUS’ TIMELINE:

Main thing probably is that he is more refined. More dangerous. Still pretty fucking dumb, but less rough around the edges. Also has more self control which is good for him!!!

Still a brickwall in terms of sharing (always so private), but way more polite? More controlled, less crude. Instead of just grunting in reply, homeboy might try to actually act like a human being. So definitively less gruff.

Also can’t just typecast him as ‘ hm this is probably a pretty bad dude ‘ when first meeting him anymore so that's kinda problematic :/ May cause some issues :/

AESTHETIC / VIBES:

old gramophones, blood stained polaroids, broken glasses, bleeding fists, standing in silence for hours, chipped teeth, unwavering loyalty, unhealed scars, getting home at the crack of dawn, red wine, long showers, god complexes, the color of the sunset, messy hair, blood soaked suits, always cheating death, a rebel just for kicks, half smiles, just beating and beating until the world stops, no conscience, half empty wine bottles, impersonal offices, a face that doesn’t quite match his demeanor.

HOGWARTS YEARS:

Was a hat stall between Slytherin and surprisingly enough, Hufflepuff. But his sister was sorted into Slytherin, and Amycus won’t go anywhere without his twin.

With the Slytherins, he found a new home, far away from his grandfather.

I would say that he is not exactly book smart, and he got pretty shit grades while at the school. The one subject where he really excelled was charms, but he also did all right in transfigurations and herbology.

Is more muscle than brains, most of the time tbh.

At the age of fifteen, Amycus stopped going back to his family home. He was becoming strong enough (from years of fighting) to challenge his father, and decided to just drop all contact. Today, he only sees his dad at the occasional pureblood party / event, where he ignores him.

torture tw :// Violence breeds violence, and the pain and suffering he had endured at home soon translated into him torturing fellow students.

Did not spend a lot of time in detention, despite all the fighting? Was that prick who got away with a lot because of his angel face. Eventually, teachers caught on though and Amycus got into his fair share of trouble as well ( most definitively became viewed as a Disturbed Child™ ).

During his time at the school, he earned some extra cash from doing odd jobs ( which mostly entailed torturing specific students per request ).

His electives at the school were: alchemy, care of magical creatures and divination. He was in no clubs at the school.

AFTER HOGWARTS:

Became a curse breaker soon after graduating.

First few years were spent abroad, working in tombs for Gringotts, recovering lost artifacts and breaking ancient curses.

Eventually, he made his way back home, and found work for the ministry. He works at the office for the removal of curses, jinxes and hexes, which is a subdivision of the improper use of magic office.

Unfortunately for him, this means that he has to work with a lot of other divisions. He hates it.

His day job as a curse breaker is sort of a disguise for what he considers to be his real job? He’s sort of a gun ( wand ) for hire, and will kill anyone who needs to be killed, for a price. Though the money really doesn’t matter all that much to him? 

Most of his clients are members of the sacred 28, who always want SOMEONE dead.

Kind of just aligned himself with the Death Eaters because 1. they have a more violent agenda 2. his sister.

Amycus isn’t the most invested in the whole pureblood supremacy thing ( though he’d never admit that ), but overall likes Voldemort and what he stands for.

Definitively fears Voldemort, and is quite happy that he’s not directly reporting to him.

Amycus mainly works for the Death Eaters as an information gatherer, which basically is just a nicer way to say that he tortures people until they tell him whatever they know. He’s disturbingly good at it, and usually works together with his sister.

Currently living in a large townhouse in London, with Alecto.

AS A PERSON:

Doesn’t give a single fuck about anyone that isn’t himself or his sister.

NEUTRAL EVIL. 

Doesn’t even have a moral compass, just does whatever is best for him. Has no interest in your righteous bullshit.

Looks a lot nicer than he is, which works to his advantage most of the time? Like he just looks like a nerdy, good dude. Couldn’t be further from the truth but... that’s besides the point. His face really doesn’t match the way he behaves.

Probably the most private person you’ll ever meet? He seldom reveals anything about himself, and when he does, it’s usually not true.

100% petty enough to lie about the smallest, most meaningless details.

SO self disciplined. Always in complete control, and it’s very hard to get a genuine reaction / rise out of him. Also so so so patient, and is happy to wait for whatever his current end game is.

Drinks and smokes heavily, but doesn’t personally think that he has a problem.

Mostly just a dumb asshole.

SO COLD.

Thrives off violence and is a total brute tbh.

Pretty good at hiding his death eater ties since he's... paranoid as FUCK. And also very private. Always wears a mask. But some people probably suspect... stuff anyways, if they've like. Spent longer than two hours with him. Listen if Amycus wasn't such a fucking asshole he probably could get away with it (/scooby doo villain voice). But then again, others will probably think he's just cold as shit.

Is a total demon, but looks like an angel. Helps a lot !!!

STYLE / FASHION / APPEARANCE:

This version of Amycus wears glasses, but fucking breaks them ALL THE TIME. The only thing keeping them together is magic.

Wears mostly suits for work ( bc he has to :/ ) but will wear those long black robes on his free time. Think a vampire cape, flying in the wind. That’s right, he really is THAT guy.

Will also wear stupid band tshirts a lot when not working.

Keeps his hair short.

Like 70% of his money is probably spent on buying new suits / robes / t shirts because he keeps either getting blood on them, or having them ripped to shreds in a fight.

Looks like he’s wearing the exact same shoes everyday but actually has like... 100 different pairs.

Eyes appear either blue or grey depending on the lighting.

Has some tattoos, and a half sleeve on his right arm, going from his shoulder down to his elbow.

CHARACTER INFLUENCES:

caleb haas ( quantico )- the snark. the assholery. the background. the black sheep.

clay haas ( quantico ) - just the right amount of polished. the style. the general aesthetic. the hair.

angelus ( btvs )- the disregard for human life. the darkness. the occasional brooding. the quips.

holden ford ( mindhunter ) - the scheming. the hidden ambition. the slyness. the resolution.

lucifer morningstar ( lucifer ) - the smile, the general vibe, the quips, the mannerisms, the darkness.

eric northman ( southern vampire mysteries ) - the confidence. the general dumbness. the stubbornness.

demon dean winchester ( supernatural ) - the occasional charm. the being an actual demon-ness. the blood lust. the bad jokes. the weakness for a pretty face.

wolverine ( x men ) - the violence. the moodiness. the hatred. the occasional gruff demeanor.

dexter morgan ( dexter ) - the serial killer vibe. the lust for blood. the violence. the loyalty to his sister. the sociopathy.

takeshi kovac ( altered carbon ) - the violence. the fucked up moral compass. the buried anger. the instinct to fight.

[aniallstory-blog]

Chapter Fifteen

Note: I’m so sorry! I meant to post this chapter on Thursday night before I went away for the weekend and I forgot. Here it is now though and I’ll post another tomorrow to make up for the long wait! Enjoy :)

“So we have the invitations,” I told Niall as we Skyped the week after his BBC performance. He was in Australia doing promotions, but as he said he would he'd been very dedicated to the wedding whenever he had his free time. “The first batch said Neil so I had to get them changed, but I'll send them out tomorrow.”

Niall frowned as he sipped a can of Fosters.

“Are ya jokin'? Ya spelt my name wrong on our wedding invitations?”

“I didn't spell your name wrong!” I giggled as I shook my head, I knew how much he hated being called Neil and I had laughed a tad longer than I probably should've when I first saw the mistake. “They must have thought Niall was a typo and changed it when I sent it to the company.”

“S'disrepecful,” He mumbled to himself. “Lots of people are named Niall.”

“I know, hun, but I got it changed so it's all sorted now,” I assured him even though I had kept one of the original batch just for my own amusement. “Have you picked out your best man and groomsmen yet?”

“I have indeed,” Niall smiled. “Gonna ask Greg to be me best man even though I'd rather have Willie if m'honest.”

“Then ask him instead,” I interrupted with a frown. “It's our wedding, Ni. Greg will get over it eventually, do whatever you want.”

He shrugged.

“It's not worth the drama. Willie can still be one of my groomsmen. Deo, Martin and Eoghan too.”

“That's perfect,” I smiled. “Gemma's going to be my Maid of Honour and then Charlotte, Abby, Sarah and Lucy are going to be my bridesmaids so they can partner up evenly.”

“Everything's comin' together!” Niall grinned. “Told ya we wouldn't need more than four months.”

I stuck my tongue out playfully and rolled my eyes.

“Yeah, of course. Those people who take at least a year to spread out all the stress so they're not scrambling to get everything done on time are so lazy,” I said sarcastically, knowing it would be a very hectic few months for us.

“It'll be fine, love,” Niall insisted. “I'll handle the catering since I know all about me food and bevvies and the honeymoon 'cause I wanna surprise ya. You handle the decorations because that's more yer area of expertise and m'sure ya can find us a photographer in no time so that's all there is to it.”

“I suppose you're right,” I sighed. “We have to find someone to officiate the ceremony too. Can priests even do it if you're not at a church or official venue?”

“Don't see why not, but I can look into it if ya want,” Niall offered. “I'm sure someone in London would be happy to marry us.”

“It's okay, I can ask around and see what I can find out,” I shrugged. “I know you're pretty busy over there. I've been watching some of your interviews, what's all this about you going after Katy Perry?”

Niall laughed and rolled his eyes.

“It's just a joke,” He insisted. “She keeps tellin' everyone m'tryin' ta get her number and m'flirtin' with her, but it's all good fun. I promise m'not.”

“I know,” I laughed. “We all know she'd be powerless to resist if you did start trying to charm her.”

“Not so sure about that, love,” He chucked. “But I should probably try and get some sleep. This jet lag is killin' me, but I got an early start tomorrow.”

“I'm sorry, Ni. I wish I could curl up with you, I could use a nap today too.”

“Yeah? Mean Marge workin' ya too hard?”

“No, Niall,” I laughed at his nickname for my boss. “I was just up late editing some pictures for the orders I've been getting. There's been a lot lately.”

“Glad to hear that!” He grinned proudly. “But make sure ya take care of yerself too, alright?”

“Of course,” I smiled at his protective nature. “But I'll let you get some rest. Chat tomorrow?”

“Absolutely, I'll let ya know me schedule as soon as I wake up,” I nodded and blew him a kiss, but just as I was about to say goodnight and hang up, he stopped me. “Wait! There's another thing ya gotta do before the wedding! Ya need to pick yer dress. Me Ma was hoping you'd let her help? She'll fly in whenever ya want her to. She just wants to be a part of it all.”

I smiled at the fact that my future mother-in-law wanted to help me pick out such an important part of my wedding, but my stomach dropped at the same time. It was the part that I wasn't ready to discuss yet. I was quiet for a moment before I realized Niall was still waiting for my answer so I pushed my worries to the back of my mind.

“Of course she can, it's very sweet that she wants to,” I told him. “I'll text her soon once I figure out when I can fit that in.”

“Alright, love,” Niall smiled. “Have a good day.”

I blew him another kiss before saying goodbye and disconnecting the call.

-

“Hiya, love,” Niall said cheerily when he answered my call about a week later. “Ya alright?”

“Yeah, are you?” I asked smiling proudly. “I saw that reception you got at the airport. That was insane. Just wanted to make sure you made it to your hotel alive.”

“'Course I did,” Niall chuckled. “Bas does his job well. Was wild though, definitely wasn't expectin’ it. Felt like the old days with the lads.”

“Well everyone loves the new single, Ni,” I reminded him as I curled up on the couch with my morning tea, my laptop perched on the coffee table in front of me. “You deserve all the attention you're getting. I'm so proud of you.”

“Thanks, Ava,” Niall sighed happily. “M'so grateful for it all, ya know? Never thought the response would be this big to me going out on me own.”

“I did,” I scoffed. “All four of you are talented. Being in a band together made for some really great music, but being apart really showcases your skills as individuals and I'm not even a tiny bit surprised at the success any of you have had.”

“Still very surreal when hoards of teenage girls are screamin' at me,” Niall pointed out. “Not the kind of reaction I'll ever get used ta.”

“No, I bet not,” I giggled.

The conversation moved on to how his flight there had been, his schedule for the next few days and how things were going for me in London, but it didn't take long for Niall to get back to the topic I was trying to avoid.

“I heard from me Ma yesterday by the way and she said ya still haven't gotten in touch about picking yer dress,” He told me, causing a knot form in my stomach.

“Oh yeah, sorry. I've just been really busy with everything else, I still haven't picked a time for that yet.”

It wasn't a lie, I had been busy with everything else, but I had been prioritizing those things for a reason. Something Niall copped on to faster than I had expected.

“Picking out yer dress is supposed t’be top of the list for most brides, isn't it?” He asked, his tone conveying it was more of a statement than a question. “You've found a photographer, made the invitations, finalized a guest list, started lookin' for someone to officiate, but ya haven't put any thought into yer dress yet?”

I hesitated for a moment before I answered.

“Yes?”

My voice was quiet and questioning and I heard Niall sigh.

“The tables have turned now, haven't they, love?” He asked. “There's somethin' yer not tellin' me, some reason you don't want to talk about this. You've brushed me off every time I've asked. If ya don't want me Ma to help pick yer dress, I can just tell her. She won't be offended.”

“No, Niall! That's absolutely not the issue,” I rushed to assure him, not wanting him to think for a minute that I didn't appreciate his mum's interest in helping. “It's not a big deal, really.”

“But there is somethin'?” He questioned. I could practically hear his brain working as he tried to figure it out. “It's not what ya said about needin' to lose weight first, is it? I know ya have to try not to lose weight once ya get yer dress fitted, Denise was all stressed out about that before their wedding so is that why yer putting it off? Honestly ya don't need to lose a pound. You're beautiful just the way ya are and if anyone says otherwise they can fuck right off. No real fan of mine would say a bad thing about ya, 'specially not somethin' like that.”

That wasn't exactly true, 'real fans' of his had said horrible things about me plenty of times, but that was beside the point. I wasn't worried about my weight.

“It's not that either,” I said quietly, nervously biting my lip. He was worried and I knew I had to be honest with him, but he would probably think I was being stupid. Even I thought I was.

“Yer not still mad about the time restraint and doing it all on my schedule, are ya?” When I denied that as well, he let out a frustrated sigh. “Well then m'out of ideas, love. Yer gonna have to tell me what's going on in that head of yers if ya want me t’help ya through it.”

I felt tears prick my eyes, but I blinked them back and cleared my throat, hoping he wouldn't be able to tell how upset I was.

“I want my mum to be there,” I mumbled so quietly I wouldn't have been surprised if my laptop's microphone didn't pick it up. But once I'd made the confession everything came pouring out. “Picking out a wedding dress is something you're supposed to do with your mum, you know? She's supposed to be there to give me suggestions, tell me what suits me and what looks awful because she totally would have,” I smiled through the tears that were blurring my vision. “She had a habit of not sugarcoating anything. She wouldn't have let me walk out there in anything that was less than perfect even if it meant giving me some tough love. I want her suggestions on what style. I want to see the look on her face when I find the perfect one. I want her to be there.”

Niall was quiet for a moment.

“I'm sorry, Ava,” He sighed. “Didn't even think about that.”

“It's alright,” I sniffled, wiping my eyes. “It's silly, I know. But this whole process is making me miss her a lot. I think about her every day, Ni. I get so mad about it sometimes. It's not fair that she won't get to be there and see me get married, she'll never get to meet you and see how amazing you are and how happy you make me, she won't get to meet any kids we have or teach me how to be a good mum like she was, I'll never get to know if she's proud of who I am and what I'm doing.”

“'Course she's proud of you, love,” Niall insisted. “It isn't fair and I wish I could change that for ya, but she's watching ya and looking out for ya and she knows what an amazing woman you've turned out to be. Probably wishes ya'd fallen for someone who could be around for ya more than I am, but I like to think she knows how much I love ya and how hard I try to look after ya for her.”

I smiled, my heart swelling at his words.

“She wouldn't have wanted me to be with anyone else,” I assured him. “She would have loved you. She always had a thing for Irish accents, she probably would have been pretty jealous that I found myself such a good looking Irishman.”

“I wish I could have met her,” Niall laughed. “And I know it's not the same and no one could take her place, but me Ma will never let ya pick out a dress that doesn't suit ya either. I know she seems nice, but she can be brutally honest too. She really wants to be there for ya and help with it all.”

“I want her to, I swear,” I insisted, smiling at the thought of Maura telling me how horrible I looked in an unflattering dress. “It's just taken a bit of the excitement out of it, you know? Everything else has been fine, but doing this without my mum just won't be the same. I'll get over it though and pick a date soon.”

“Ya don't need to get over it,” Niall said gently. “Yer allowed ta be upset, yer allowed to miss her. Just don't let it ruin things yer supposed to be excited about too much, yeah? She wouldn't have wanted that. She'll be there with ya when yer picking out a dress anyway even if ya can't see her.”

“You're right,” I smiled, wiping my eyes on my sleeve. “Thanks for the pep talk, hun.”

“Anytime, Darlin'. S'what m'here for,” He assured me. “Wish I could give ya big hug though. Don't like being away from me girl when she's sad.”

“You're too sweet,” I giggled. “I wish you could give me a hug too, but I'll be alright. I'll pick a date at some point today and talk to your mum later.”

“Sounds good, love,” Niall agreed. “But I gotta run, have another interview coming up in a few minutes. I'll text ya later, alright?”

“Alright. Good luck with your interview. I love you, Niall.”

“Love you too, Ava.”

I blew him a kiss, we said our goodbyes and hung up the phone. It felt good to get my sadness off my chest, but it didn't make it disappear. Nothing in the world would change the fact that my mum wouldn't be able to help me pick my wedding dress or see me on the big day.

I felt more tears well up in my eyes and before I knew it I was sobbing right there on our couch. I let it all out. All the fear of not having her guidance, the anger at the unfairness of it all and the sadness that after all those times we'd talked about what my wedding would be like when I was younger, she wouldn't get to share it with me now it was actually happening. I cried and cried until there were no more tears left before grabbing a tissue off the coffee table and blowing my nose.

Sometimes there's pain in life that you just need to feel and despite the fact that no amount of tears or tantrums would bring my mum back, this was still a pain that I had to get out of my system every once in a while even six years later.

[technato]

Elektro the Moto-Man Had the Biggest Brain at the 1939 World’s Fair

This voice-controlled robot could walk, talk, and smoke, and it captivated crowds

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Photo: Bettmann/Getty Images

“Ladies and gentlemen, I’ll be very glad to tell my story. I am a smart fellow as I have a very fine brain of 48 electrical relays.” This is how Elektro the robot introduced itself to crowds at the 1939 New York World’s Fair. Standing 2.1 meters tall and weighing 118 kilograms, Elektro performed 26 different tricks, including walking, talking, counting, and singing. It had a vocabulary of approximately 700 words, although its responses were all prerecorded and played back from 33⅓-rpm records. One of Elektro’s pet lines was, “My brain is bigger than yours.” At 25 kg, it certainly was.

Elektro was one of a family of robots that evolved out of Westinghouse’s switchgear business. By the early 1920s, the company had succeeded in developing fully automatic electrical substations, and its engineers were looking for ways to improve them. One operator requested a way to call the substation system remotely and initiate a change in the normal operating routine. Thus was born Televox, a set of control units that started Westinghouse down the path to developing robots.

Roy J. Wensley designed Televox to change switches in a substation in response to sounds it detected. One half of the Televox unit sat on the desk of a dispatcher at a central power station and the other at the substation. The Televox at the central station used tuning-fork oscillators to create different frequencies, which formed a code that the receiving Televox could interpret. The operator would send the code to the substation over an existing phone line. The receiver unit had to raise the telephone receiver, process the incoming codes, and then respond with the appropriate action, such as opening or closing a particular switch.

Wensley saw plenty of potential uses for the device in the public utility field. He asked the advertising department to help with publicity but was turned down. He did, however, have enough in his discretionary project budget to build a portable demonstration model of the Televox. A 1928 advertisement promoted the Televox as “a new instrument which is to become the servant of the future.” But Wensley had the intuition of a salesman and knew his box of relays and wires wouldn’t appeal to nontechnical audiences, and so he decided to dress it up a bit.

On 21 February 1928, Herbert Televox made its debut at the Level Club in New York City. This “robot” was simply a crude humanoid form (head, articulated arms, and legs) made out of wallboard with the Televox control unit forming the body. Herbert Televox’s great trick: unveiling a portrait of George Washington in honor of Washington’s Birthday. Giving a name, face, and personality to a control unit turned out to be a stroke of genius, capturing the popular imagination for the possibilities of robotics.

Photo: Mansfield Memorial Museum

Robot Family: Herbert Televox [left] was Westinghouse’s first human-form robot. The more famous member of the Westinghouse robot family was Elektro; a copy is shown in the middle, while the original is on the right.

Enthusiastic reporters exaggerated Herbert’s skills, claiming it could manage an entire home by remote control. Wensley spent a great deal of effort correcting the record about Televox’s actual abilities. Nevertheless, the publicity spurred further research. The U.S. military, for instance, investigated using Televox to fire guns remotely. Rural airports that didn’t maintain staff around the clock considered using it to automatically light up runways when planes approached at night.

In 1929, Wensley was serendipitously assigned to coordinate the engineering and marketing of refrigerators. This led him to the Westinghouse Appliance Division, in Mansfield, Ohio, where he met several likeminded engineers. They soon rolled out Katrina van Televox, Rastus, and a few other robots. With each iteration, the engineers worked to refine the machines’ movement, sound, control, and skill set.

Elektro was their ultimate creation. Built by J.M. Barnett, Jack Weeks Sr., Harold Gorsuch, and other engineers at the Mansfield plant, the robot had a torso, arms, and legs made from aluminum sheeting. Its head and hands were cast aluminum. Other parts were pilfered from the factory—power cords from irons, coffee pots, and waffle makers, wheels from vacuum cleaners.

Elektro wowed audiences, first at the World’s Fair and then on tour across the country, and it hawked appliances for Westinghouse. But you’d be wrong to dismiss it as simply a publicity stunt. The engineers who developed Elektro were pioneers, attempting to turn science fiction into reality by developing a voice-activated robot.

Everybody Loves Robots

Gif: IEEE Spectrum

Robots continue to captivate crowds, but they have changed a lot since Elektro. Check out the latest, most advanced designs in our new Robots website.

An operator gave voice commands to Elektro through a microphone, but the robot didn’t actually understand the words. According to an article in the August 1939 issue of Radio-Craft magazine, the voice commands were carefully timed syllabic codes, which were turned into electrical pulses by a grid-glow tube [PDF]. The pulse opened a shutter in front of a lightbulb, sending a flash signal across the room to a photoelectric tube in the robot’s control unit, located offstage. This “electric eye” translated the signal into an electric current and transmitted it through telephone relays to start Elektro’s gears whirring.

According to C. Bruce Hardy, who toured with Elektro in 1942–43, all of the commands that started or ended a trick followed a 3-1-2 syllable pattern, with pauses between the phrasing. For example, “Will you come / down / front please?” would start Elektro moving forward. “You have come / far / enough” would make the robot stop. Operators could vary the wording as long as they kept to the pattern. “Tell us how / old / you are” and “Count your age / with / fingers” both could trigger the same trick. But operators stuck to an orchestrated script; they didn’t jump around in the program.

Although walking was one of Elektro’s trumpeted tricks, the robot didn’t really walk. Its left knee bent, with the right leg dragging behind, as it moved on wheels along a track in the stage.

Like the other Westinghouse humanoids, Elektro smoked cigarettes. An assistant would helpfully place a cigarette in a hole in the robot’s upper lip and light it. Elektro would take a few drags, exhaling the smoke in short puffs before the assistant extinguished it. After each performance, operators had to clean the tar out of the smoking mechanism’s tubing. Cigarette-smoking robots still exist today, but instead of casually lighting up, they puff away in laboratories to aid research on lung disease.

Photo: Bettmann/Getty Images

Robot’s Best Friend: Westinghouse introduced Sparko the dog as a companion for Elektro.

In 1941 a second hole was added to Elektro’s upper lip, but this one was for a more innocuous party trick. Elektro liked to challenge audience members to balloon-blowing competitions, seeing who could burst the balloon first. Equipped with an air hose and compressor, the robot almost always won.

Elektro’s dog, Sparko, was added to the World’s Fair show in 1940. Sparko could move forward and back, sit down, turn its head, wag its tail, and bark. Don Lee Hadley designed Sparko based on his own Scottish terrier, Bonnie. Westinghouse commissioned three dogs (the prototype plus a companion each for Elektro and another Westinghouse robot, Willie Vocalite), but none are known to survive today.

Recently, I created a biography page for Elektro on IMDb, where it now joins other robot movie stars like Alexa, Siri, and Robby the Robot. Elektro starred in The Middleton Family at the New York World’s Fair, a 1939 film produced by Westinghouse to help promote the company’s appliances.

https://spectrum.ieee.org//www.youtube.com/embed/Q6TQEoDS-fQ

It also appeared on the television show You Asked for It hosted by Art Baker in 1951, returning the following year as a finalist for the most popular episode of the previous year. And for several years after the World’s Fair and again after World War II, Elektro toured the country doing live performances, mostly in the housewares sections of department stores.

In 1958, a talent agent spotted the aging robot in a Westinghouse exhibit at Pacific Ocean Park, near Los Angeles, where it was playing second fiddle to a one-third-scale model of the nuclear-powered Nautilus submarine. That sighting earned Elektro a role as S.A.M. Thinko in 1960’s Sex Kittens Go to College. The Sequential Auxiliary Modulator blew a few fuses when confronted by the brilliant mind of Mamie van Doren’s Dr. Mathilda West, or possibly it was some of her other features. I suppose there’s humor in the blatant sexism of this B movie, if only the reality didn’t exist to this day in so many academic settings.

After its brief time in Hollywood, Elektro was packed into crates, sent back to its birthplace, and all but forgotten. The robot managed to survive the scrap heap and found a home at the Mansfield Memorial Museum, in Ohio, where it is now on permanent display. The museum’s director, Scott Schaut, has accumulated a tremendous archive of material related to the development of robotics at Westinghouse. He’s always on the lookout for more, although he says it saddens him to know how much history has already been destroyed. “Every day, historical artifacts are discarded or thrown in the trash without any regard to their significance to the community and the posterity of history,” Schaut writes in his book Robots of Westinghouse, 1924–Today, which reproduces numerous photos and promotional materials documenting Elektro’s history.

The book concludes with an intriguing scenario: What if Elektro had a female companion? Schaut knows of six sketches of women robots, created by Westinghouse’s robot team. They have some of Elektro’s features, such as the circular light in the chest, but they differ in hairstyle, facial expression, and bust and hip measurements. Plus, all of the lady robots are wearing dresses. Sadly, an Elektra never seems to have been built.

An abridged version of this article appears in the October 2018 print issue as “Elektro the Moto-Man.”

Part of a continuing series looking at photographs of historical artifacts that embrace the boundless potential of technology.

About the Author

Allison Marsh is an associate professor of history at the University of South Carolina and codirector of the university’s Ann Johnson Institute for Science, Technology & Society.

Elektro the Moto-Man Had the Biggest Brain at the 1939 World’s Fair syndicated from https://jiohowweb.blogspot.com