#or even hamilton burger for that matter

[notmoreflippingelves]

After reminding myself yet again, that contrary to my wishes, Cosmo Brown/Lina Lamont ( both from Singin' in the Rain) does not in fact exist., my brain has frantically and bizarrely decided that it needs to find a way to make Perry Mason/Lina Lamont work.

[polyhexian]

Nate ranks every transformers thing ever

What:

- Eugenesis

i have no idea how i can ethically rank this as good or bad. its good. its bad. its canon. its fanfiction. it is what it is. dont read eugenesis. please read eugenesis.

God tier:

- Rescue bots

i am not joking. i am not memeing. rescue bots is the best thing to ever come out of the transformers franchise. its the only series to break the three season curse and get a fourth season. it has more episodes than any other series, over 100. it didn’t get cancelled because it wasn’t popular, it ended because they ran out of stories they wanted to tell. then they dropped a sequel series with TWO more seasons. they gave nicole duboc a mainline series for this.

- Mtmte/lost light

life changing. incredible. ruined my life. saved my life. jro is my enemy. jro is my best friend. jro is my dad. i met him once. i showed him my hard copy of eugenesis i paid 150 dollars for and had him sign it. he probably thinks im insane. he DID sign it tho. i think about whirl and cdrw every day of my life

- Cyberverse

I LOVE CYBERVERSE SO MUCH... I don't think any series has captured the pure unbridled chaos of the entire franchise so well. It has so many characters and all of them feel RIGHT. I love the art style. I Love this unhinged soundwave. I LOVE the fresh and interesting new ideas if brought to the table. Season 3 was incredible. The season 4 specials destroyed me. TARN??? TARN IS HERE???

- Rise of the Beasts

I think that Bumblebee is an objectively better film, I just had more fun watching ROTB lol

- Bumblebee movie

- Rescue bots academy

BABY GIRL MY BABY DAUGHTER BABY GIRL BABY BABY

- Earthspark

- Botbots

Yes I am in fact putting botbots this high. This show was so unrepentantly funny. The goof at the beginning show us like oooh space ENERGON crashed to earth the war... Anyway none of that matters lets go to the mall. That is SO funny. They did a chopping mall parody and a Hamilton parody. The protagonist is an unhinged megalomaniac burger.

- Beast wars

don't worry about the visuals you get used to them so fucking fast. beast wars is incredible. the storytelling has so much depth. tigatrons big episode about the cost of their war against the planet and defining what protecting the planet even means changed me. theres an entire episode about farting and rampage and depth charge wanna hate fuck SO bad its fucking unreal

- Recordicons

you WILL acknowledge david willis’s contribution to lgbt history and you WILL laugh at his very funny memes

Great tier:

- Transformers Prime

- Transformers Animated

waspy baby.....

- Idw shattered glass

IM UNHINGED ABOUT SG STARSCREAM AND SG STARFIRE IM ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED

- 86 movie (Bluray remaster)

-the five minutes at the end of earthrise when cog became the main character for some reason

This was the funniest shit I've ever seen. One of the worst most boring shitty tf shows I've sat through with characters I truly care nothing for suddenly lurched sideways as out of fucking nowhere and for no reason at all a random background character suddenly took over the plot and gave the most harrowing performance I've seen in awhile in this horrifically tragic death scene that had my jaw on the floor. And then we just moved on and never spoke of it again ckdhzhcjof. WHAT WAS THAT.... LITERALLY WHAT WAS THAT AND WHY DID THAT HAPPEN....

- Armada (the starscream and Optimus parts)

It is UNREAL how good the starscream and Optimus bits are in this show. When the rest of it is pretty terrible. I would say after starscream dies it's pretty meh but not outright bad, just sort of nothin. The first couple episodes tho are so funny because they're so bad they had no script and were all but ad-libbing the whole thing. They couldn't go two minutes without getting a characters name wrong. Incredible. Anyway this starscream is legendary for being such an interesting and dynamic character with the best design ever. And just like. The coolest character arc.

Okay but also just like do not watch this show in English. The English version is awful and it is More than just a dub!! The Japanese version was finished AFTER the American version despite being animated in Japan!! Because the show! Was not! Done!!! The Japanese version of the show is called micron legend and it's practically a different show. Do yourself a favor and watched micron legend subbed.

- Victory

STAR SABER IS MY DAD OK

also the plot hinges around the premise that current autobot commander star saber found a human infant floating through space and legally adopted him. That's incredible come on

- IDW windblade mini

saren stone could kill me with a brick and i would thank them

Good tier:

- Transformers RiD15 IDW comic

-Beast Wars 2 movie

- IDW2

- MMC mnemo/notif comic *

- Transformers go!

FUCK YEAH DRAGONS

- Funpub shattered glass

- Beast Wars uprising

DID YOU KNOW EJECT HAS A FUCKING SON?

Okay Tier:

- Wfc: Siege

- Zone

homosexual

- Challenge of the Go Bots *

Bad tier:

- The rest of IDW1

- G1

I'm not sorry for this. I don't like it. Boo

- Japanese headmasters

- Armada (the rest of it)

- Energon

- American headmasters

- Robotix *

im fucking unironically convinced when this flopped they just reused the plot for headmasters

- Wfc: earthrise

- Super god masterforce

- Beast wars 2

- Beast wars neo

- Beast machines

- RiD 2001

- 86 movie (pre bluray remaster)

- Cybertron

- Vanpires *

the wildest shit ive ever seen. ive watched every episode. imagine the cgi of beast wars season 1 with integrated live action. theres vampire cars and they "drain the gas from innocent cars" when cars??? not sentient???? the human children got irradiated and now they can turn into fucking horrible car beasts. why was this fucking made

- Bayverse

- Machinama’s Prime Wars

You know a series is bad when the first thing I want to complain about is the sound mixing

- Go-bots (transformers branded)

- Wfc: kingdom

Elite one my beloved I am so fucking sorry

Burn in hell tier:

- Rid15

Copaganda to rival paw patrol

- Exodus

This book called me a slur

- Hayato sakamoto’s Transformers Legends

- Kiss players

The worst thing transformers has ever done

??? (I still havent read/watched these) tier:

- Robot Masters

- Devastation

I played twenty minutes of this

- WfC

I’ve actually played a few hours of this but i got bored and didn’t finish so I don’t feel like i should rate it, but ultimately i just found it kind of generic and it didnt grab me

-FoC

-Wings Universe

-Unite Warriors

this is illustrated by hayato sakamoto and ive seen enough of like, the horny bathtub art and oversexualized female characters to assume its most likely shit tier, but i think he also brought breakdown back to life and canonized kobd? I do legitimately want to read this eventually

-Transtech

-Marvel comics

-GI Joe transformers crossover comics

-Dreamwave comics

-new energon universe image comic

-Q transformers

I have actually watched the subbed episodes of this but, there’s so few of them and its so clearly not intended for me since this is like a little silly flash cartoon specifically for japanese fans of transformers that its like, of course i dont really get the jokes or anything so even though i found this kind of boring i dont think its bad and i dont feel comfortable putting it on a tier

- TFP tie in games

- Bayverse tie in games

- Earth Wars

Energon enema though

- IDW MLP crossover

- Nezha

Nezha is lost media but it has toys and I have one so uhhhh I guess I'm acknowledging it theoretically exists

* don't act like this doesn't count, once you're deep enough to make a list ranking every transformers thing ever made you have to start counting this type of shit too

[lestappenforever]

Hello gorgeous! It’s timefor my brainrots:

So, you probably don’t know that, but here in Brazil most of f1 fans HATE max. Interlagos is a nice race but the environment is so TOXIC for Max and his fans, mostly because of Hamilton’s fanbase. Charles’ fans around here started to spread hate towards max too and they blatantly lie about Max and Charles’ relationship. They refuse to believe that max is a good person who doesn’t have a real heat with anyone on the grid (including Hamilton, Russell and ocon). They assume Charles despise max because he’s such a “despicable” man, awful driver and so on. I’m glad that he’ll clinch the title before my home race, I can’t stand the booing, the swearing, it’s so saddening.

More lap dance fics should be written in ao3, just read a carlando one and 🫣🫣🫣 really fucking good.

I’ve made an orange money piece in my hair. My best friend, fiancé and a few friends loved it, so I grew fond of it too. Pic to illustrate at the bottom 🫡

Anyways, I’ve caught a nasty cold and I’m annoyed because I keep sneezing. It’s so hot in here and that’s fucking annoying too. I’m on my pms so EVERYTHING IS ANNOYING!!! I want burgers.

Hope you have a nice day, I love you and you’re so special 🖤🖤

My goth girl look 🫣

Beautiful Evie, my love, my light, my universe. ❤️

I'm unfortunately aware of the hate Max tends to receive in Brazil, and I just find the whole thing so sad. It's so tragic that other drivers' fanbases can possess and express that amount of hate towards aother driver. But there seems to be a consensus among every Max hater out there, no matter who their favorite driver is, that they will do whatever they can to paint him as a bad guy even if they have no legitimate reason to believe that he is. It's especially bad with Charles fans and Max haters, because Lestappen is such a massively popular ship in the F1 fandom, and that part of the fandom are just desperate to create a narrative that doesn't exist in a desperate attempt to put distance between their favorite driver and their favorite driver to hate.

I just find the whole thing so sad, because what kind of life do you lead if you're that obsessed with trying to convince yourself and others that two people who clearly like each other, who genuinely respect and admire each other, actually can't stand each other? It's just really sad to watch, and kind of pathetic, if I'm being honest.

I agree with the lapdance fics, because there aren't nearly enough of them out there.

And Evie. Babe. Love of my life. Your hair (and you) looks absolutely beautiful! The color suits you so well, and you look stunning. 💕

I'm so sorry to hear about your cold, and that it crashes with your PMS. That and the heat is just a terrible combination. I hope you recover quickly and feel much better soon!

I love you, you're wonderful, and I hope you'll have a lovely weekend. 🤍

[mallowmaenad]

my new political ideaology is that I get a device called the dipshit detector that removes self-important white people’s ability to use cellphones for 1 month and I don’t fucking care if this is a fascist dictatorshit i actually would turn joe biden into joe woke and donald trump into pronoun trump if i see one more loud mouthed straighty act like their opinion fucking matters im introducing their shy 9 year old son to my little pony i cant fucking take this shit yes fuck it throw republicans in concentration camps they’re practically begging for it they wont shut the fuck up about how theyre gonna be hunted down and killed wish granted bitch blam blam its wabbit season bitch im sick of liberals im sick of voting im sick of norway if youre even slightly uncomfortable around gay people you should be set on fire black power asian power jewish power latino power and i fucking mean it im not just buying the stupid 30$ tshirt on fckhate.com the worst thing to ever happen in american history is abraham lincoln not publicly executing every confederate general and outlawing slavery full stop we literally live in starship troopers we are trapped in a shitty gmod half life dark rp server yeah I do think you’re basically a terrorist if you go to disney land and i also think that if the first words out of your mouth when the rustbelt gets set on fire is “those dirty rednecks deserve it” ill show you a fucking redneck you fucking yank prick you fucking racist i wish hilary clinton would explode on live tv charitys are fucking fake theyre as fake as those cardboard towns in north korea oppenheimer was a limpdick pussy and fallout is becoming a game franchise that fetishizes the mass genocide of asians and i want todd howard pinned under a large rock for it spec ops the line wasn’t ugly enough there is a conspiracy started by the cosmetics, nutrition and fashion industry in collaboration with the upper class descendants of fucking typhoid “moneybags” marys to fool the masses that fat people aren’t hot as fuck. My body and mind and soul degrade with the week because of yhe shit ass menial labor yhey made me do and the fucking lead in gasoline and world war 1 started a chain reaction of fathers beating their kids and wives because it’s cheaper to buy a gun than go to therapy because we’re fucking warhammer orks without any of the endearing mental stupidity we live in mordor. we live in fucking mordor. it literally does not matter who is president our two political parties are Nazis and Neo-Nazis bernie sanders was the closest thing to a centrist this country has ever seen. capitalism grinds up joy into a paste to divvy out on 500$ gucci toothpicks public urination should be legal rent is theft corporations are agents of satan who is jesus christ who is not jesus of nazareth jesus christ is the poster boy of white supremacy i fucking hate Hamilton white people should listen to MORE rap i want to get my dick sucked at a death grips concert. Laundromats and burger joints where you can get a meal for 5$ are far more important than police stations and walmart. pop anarchists want to personally confiscate your wheelchair uou fuckers treat yhis like a game fuckin e girls with hammers and sickles in their icons arguing about what form of communism or socialism or whateverism is right when bitch that is a pipe dream you are going to die in captivity arguing about which dragon ball z character is the strongest (girl broly) at least go punch a hole in your wall and fuck it to prove you’re human you facebook fetishist jesus christ every other day i want a biblical death just so my fucked up thouhhts mean something i need a fuckingjason vorhees bitch wheres the yandere tea party this is all so fucked up its not fucking real the christian god hates you whoever says otherwise is trying to make you a fucking slave. Mormonism and scientology should be wiped off the map any religion formed after the invention of the gun is a fucking pyramid scheme i wish i was a 9 foot toll shark lady with hugebrealssta so i could fucking knock over thechrystler building

DO 9/11 AGAIN

[frommybookbook]

This scene was FASCINATING. Burger offered Perry's client, in the glasses, a plea deal. Perry told his client he'd accept whatever the client wanted and they'd put on their best case possible, they'd discuss it after Hamilton left. But the client insisted he didn't need time to think it over, he didn't want a deal, he was innocent and he'd say so when he took the stand to testify.

Burger and Perry exchanged a glance and Perry asked his client if he'd ever been cross-examined before. The man said no, but that didn't matter, he had the truth on his side and nothing to hide, he was innocent.

So Burger basically started cross-examining the guy, right there in the holding cell. He did a masterful job, probably better than anything he's ever even shown doing in the actual courtroom. He pushed and pushed and pushed the client, until he completely lost his cool and jumped up and shouted, utterly destroying his calm and cool manner. A jury would have had a field day and all three men knew it.

Burger shared another glance with Perry and told the client that that was only a taste of what he'd receive if he went on the stand and he should really just listen to his attorney and then left.

Perry and Burger don't really cooperate with each other all that often, but when they do, it's really well done. It's pretty great to see William Talman and Raymond Burr get to act together in scenes like this.

[woahajimes]

Have you ever wondered how Damian would handle an instagram account? 

For starters, Damian doesn’t even know he has an instagram account. It’s until Bruce answers a question at an interview that Damian finds out he has an instagram account. Bruce had created it for him, for god-knows-what reason. Yet Damian has to act like he has known all along, that he has an instagram account. 

Once Bruce gets him settled into a username that very literally is just Damian’s name as the son of the billionaire, Damian does absolutely nothing. He doesn’t follow anyone, he doesn’t post anything. He doesn’t even  have a profile picture. For all everyone knows, Bruce Wayne could have lied and that account is just some rando’s. 

And months pass, Damian’s account is the literal same every single day, and trust me, people have checked. Damian couldn’t actually care less about his instagram account, the only reason he hasn’t deleted the app completely is because he rarely even uses his phone. He just carries it around in his pocket when he’s out as Damian Wayne. 

It’s almost a year, and Damian is out with Dick, they’re getting lunch or something. Dick has ordered a burger, Damian stuck with a veggie option. And they’re about to start eating and Dick takes out his phone, snaps a picture. 

“What are you doing?” Damian asks him. 

Dick stares at Damian. “It’s for my instagram story.” And then he starts typing some caption or something. 

And even though I, op, don’t have younger brothers, I do have a younger sister and I can tell you that little siblings copy like, everything you do. And I know we’re talking about Damian, but still. Damian took his phone out and he snapped a picture, Dick in the shot as well. He posted it in his story, he didn’t put a caption. 

And then later that day, Damian remembered that he hadn’t saved that picture he took. So he opened the instagram app and he saw a little circle around his empty profile picture. He decided that he liked it. It went from purple to pink to orange to yellow to orange to pink and back to purple. 

So this became a routine of his, after all, it would cost him next to nothing. To take a picture and post it on his story. It would keep the little ring around his profile picture. And he’d get replies to his stories and he’d get tagged in pictures and he’d get thousands of followers and he’d get tagged in comments and new requests and all those things that famous accounts get. 

And it’s not like the pictures ever made sense. The first week they were things like the cover of his sketchbook, or this plant he found in the garden. Maybe it was the map on his wall, or alfred the cat and titus. He wouldn’t even take time with these pictures. He’d just remember every day about the little circle around his default profile picture and he’d grab his phone, and  he’d take a picture of the nearest thing he could find. He never bothered to write a caption, nor put a song, anything. 

And as time passes, the logic of the pictures becomes blurry. Why would the heir of the richest man in gotham post a picture of a crack on the pavement? 

But sometimes, people doubt that Damian even takes these pictures. Because sometimes they’re pictures of gotham at night, when the sky is pitch black, starless. And this one time, Damian is out on patrol, the sun is rising, he still hasn’t gone home. The sky reminds Damian of the little ring around his profile picture. So Damian sets his phone to record automatically and so it records towards the sunset. And because Damian would place himself against the light, the figure would look pitch black, a plain shadow against the sunset. So Damian sets his phone and he takes his cape off, he has his grappling hook, but he’ll use it once he’s out of the camera shot. And then he gets the video going (his phone is leaning on a plant pot, there’s another building that ends nearly as the camera shot begins. So Damian swings from where he set his phone, to the other building, and he just. 

Jumps. 

He’s jumping headfirst and he’s whooping loudly, laughing almost. He’s done this so many times yet something is just nicer. 

it was awesome. 

And he posts the video, but silences it. Nobody can see Damian’s uniform, nor his mask. For all they know, Damian hired someone to jump, or maybe he even threw a mannequin or something.  

That was the only video Damian posted on his story. The rest, every other day, theRE were just pictures. 

We skip time a bit more and Damian was with Jon, when he still lived in hamilton. They were by the tree they were always at, and Damian was taking a picture of the bark of the tree. Because bark. 

And Jon just stares at Damian. “What the h are you doing?” 

Damian shrugs. "Just taking a picture.”

Jon snatches the phone from him. They’re close enough friends. He goes to the camera and holds the phone up straight, he sets it to the front camera.

“My mom does this all the time,” he says. “She calls them selfies.” 

Jon snaps a picture. Then he checks it. He’s smiling, Damian is not. “You’re so lame! Did nobody ever teach you how to smile?” 

Jon snaps a second picture, Damian’s still not smiling. Third picture, Damian’s expression moves a bit, but it's just him rolling his eyes. 

“Come on, Damian! SMILE!” Jon takes another picture, he checks it. Damian’s smiling dramatically, he looks like Jon looks in family pictures he doesn’t want to take. He’s not smiling with his teeth, his eyes are practically closed, his nose is scrunched up. If anything, he looks more disgusted than happy. “Ugh, we’ll just try another day, i guess.” 

This became a sort of routine. Every day they saw each other as civilians, Jon would take a selfie with Damian. Sometimes he smiled, if he was in the right mood. It didn’t really matter, Damian never posted those pictures on his story. 

Now we take Damian’s fourteenth birthday. This, Damian decides, is a much better way to spend his birthday than the last one. Bruce isn’t there, but his brothers are, his best friends also are. Alfred and Jon, Dick, Tim, and Jason. They’re eating strawberry cake, with the ‘happy 14th!’ in pink frosting and everything. It is now his first option, thanks to Alfred.

Anyways, they’re slicing the cake, Damian just blew out the candles. Jon takes his phone out, the one he got when he turned eleven. He doesn’t have an instagram account, Lois wouldn’t let him, but Jon still takes a picture of everything. 

Alfred asks Damian for his phone, so he can take a picture. Damian shakes his head, yet he takes out his phone. He’s at the head of the table, he puts his phone on the front camera. He hands it to Alfred. 

“Jon likes to call them ‘selfies’,” Damian explained. He showed Alfred. “Here, you take them like this.” 

Damian took his phone back from Alfred, he stretched his arm with the phone. He called out Tim’s name, and all of them looked up. 

“Smile!” Damian snapped a picture, he grinned. He looked at the picture, he liked it. Alfred was grinning, like in that picture in which he’s with Bruce when he was little, and they’re both laughing at something.

Damian decided that this picture was too nice for it to go on his 24-hour ring. Besides, he had already put a picture of Jason helping prepare the frosting. He didn't need two stories in the same day. 

So he drafts the post, and there’s the option to edit the image, but Damian skips it. It’s nice as it is.

He posts it, he doesn’t write a caption.

taglist: @hauntingsonofrobin @bikoncon @catxsnow @screennamealreadyused @thesporklecat @thesesickfics-justmakemesick andd i think i got it all idk 

[superherotiger]

Hi! If you're still doing the drabbles, could you do one with a theater nerd Peter? Preferably Hamilton but it doesn't have to be!!!!! Thank you!! :D

Did I get carried away with this? Yes. Do I regret it? No lol. Thanks so much for the prompt Anon, this was so much fun!

(Spoilers for Hamilton ahead)

~~~~~~~~~~

It took a long time for Peter to ease up around Tony.

The first couple months of their official lab sessions went by in awkward silences and stiff interactions, but as the weeks went by, the two geniuses began to find their footing. Unsure stutters became playful banter, and stretches of emptiness were filled with music and laughter. The more the two saw each other, the more relaxed they became, and Tony found himself enjoying the little details about his protégé that revealed itself with time.

The way Peter would run a hand through his curls when nervous, or how his leg would bounce rapidly when excitedly. How he liked to sit on the ceiling when his senses got too much, and that he thought pizza was better than burgers despite Tony insisting he was wrong.

But maybe most surprisingly of all was that Peter loved to sing.

It began with humming melodies under his breath as he worked, so quiet that Tony almost missed it under the clamour of machinery, only for it to grow over the weeks into a much more noticeable mumble. Like he wanted to put a true voice to his thoughts but forced himself to remain quiet. And no matter how many times Tony insisted he choose a song for their lab sessions, Peter would decline with an embarrassed shake of his head, saying, “You probably wouldn’t like anything I listen to.”

And so Tony gave up his attempts and left the mystery to unravel itself, forgetting about it entirely as lab days shifted to nights over, and eventually, entire weekends spent at the tower. And it was on one of those weekends when Tony heard it for the first time.

“…And all the years will melt away, and lights will fall much softer now…”

Peering into the guest bedroom -which really was just Peter’s room at this point with how often he used it-, Tony saw the boy hunched over his homework and swaying his head to whatever tune he was currently lost in through his headphones. His voice though, as soft and smooth as honey, echoed across the space, filling the air with a harmony that had even Tony entranced.

“For all the pain is gone, hope is what moves on,” Peter sung. “I will be there, as near as her next prayer, as merciful as sweet redemptio- oh my god!”

Tony blinked himself back to reality at the startled cry and realised that Peter’s eyes were now locked onto him in a mix of shock and unfiltered mortification. “Mr Stark! How long have you been standing there?!” he squeaked, cheeks bright red.

“Not long,” Tony tried to soothe as he stepped into the room, though he couldn’t help the fond smile that tugged at his lips as he added coyly, “So… good song?”

“Oh my god,” Peter groaned into his hands, desperately trying to hide his embarrassment. “This can’t be happening.”

A chuckle slipped past Tony’s defences at the teen’s over-dramatics, patting his shoulder in mock sympathy before ushering him out of the room for lunch. But as much as Peter tried to pretend it had never happened, it did open up a doorway into the boy’s world that had previously been locked shut. When he realised that Tony wouldn’t even dream of mocking him for singing, he began to do it more often, and even made some of the song choices on lab days. And when it seemed that his mentor was completely content with him doing so, Peter began to introduce him to a new genre, the world of musicals and Broadway.

Before long AC/DC and Led Zeplin -which Tony repeatedly had to remind Peter were two different entities- were replaced by Dear Evan Hansen and The Count of Monte Cristo. Razia’s Shadow and Heathers. And most crucially of all, Hamilton.

The kid was obsessed with it, and after a year and a half of growing closer together not just as mentor and mentee, but as family, Peter had absolutely no problem belting his favourite Hamilton songs as he cracked down on homework or trained in the gym. It was always a highlight of Tony’s day when Peter slipped into one of his performances, because it was never just his voice that shifted with the mood of the song, but his facial expressions and posture as well. It was entrancing, if not simply for the fact that Peter always looked so damn happy when he did it.

But even after months of hearing some select songs from the soundtrack, Tony had yet to fully understand the fascination with Hamilton, which quickly changed when he expressed as such to his theatre nerd of an intern.

“You’ve never seen Hamilton?!” Peter exclaimed in abject horror. “How- how are you a billionaire and you haven’t even gone to the best Broadway production around?!”

“Never had time,” Tony simply shrugged.

“Well you’ll have to make time, because we’re gonna go see it!”

And that’s how Tony Stark ended up seated beside his favourite intern the next night to watch the Broadway hit. He told himself it was only for Peter’s sake, who was about to vibrate out of his seat with pure excitement at this rate, but by the time the first song was over, Tony had to admit he was hooked. The energy, the atmosphere, the seamless transitions between songs and the sheer emotion that each singer projected into the air worked together to draw Tony into their world, their stories. It was spectacular, and suddenly Tony realised why Peter had gushed over it in such awe. Why he had such an affinity for musicals which were so powerful and raw in their emotions. Even Tony felt his chest swell with warmth during Dear Theodosia, and he couldn’t help but look over at the boy that had become his kid as the words echoed through his soul.

Pride is not the word I’m looking for, there is so much more inside me now…

The show continued to hold both of them captive to the music, and after chuckling at the quips and hilarious numbers of King George, Tony found himself enjoying the ecstatic gleam in Peter’s eye like stars glimmering against the abyss of space. The sight of his joy alone made the whole night worthwhile.

But then the world they had been drawn into grew dim with betrayal and shame, and Tony could feel his stomach twist during the seemingly upbeat Blow Us All Away, as if he could sense the air of death filling the room before it had ever entered.

“Look him in the eye, aim no higher. Summon all the courage you require, then slowly and clearly aim your gun towards the sky!”

“1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7-“

A gunshot rung through the air, and Tony felt the air leave his lungs when he saw Phillip suspended mid fall, sentenced to death without a moment’s hesitation. Tony had always thought he was a strong man, or at the very least a well guarded one, but as Hamilton burst onto the scene begging to see his dying son, Tony felt a grief so overwhelming and cold wash over him. Tearing through his every breath, seeping into his bones.

“I know, I know- shh… I know, I know, shh. Save your strength and stay alive.”

Leaning forward to get a better view through his misty eyes, Tony watched the pain etched onto both Hamiltons’ features -the terror, the guilt, the agony- and felt his muscles tense up like a bowstring. As if he were the one trying to comfort his son from a fatal bullet wound, struggling to realise that he was about to lose his child.

Phillip and Eliza sung one last melody together before the thud of a heartbeat trailed away with his voice, and Tony felt his own heart pound like thunder in his ears through the silence. The overwhelming sense of loss in the air and the iciness in his veins were too real, too painful to comprehend. It hadn’t been his child- it wasn’t even real, but Tony felt everything as if he had been standing right there in Alexander’s shoes. As if Phillip had been…

A warm, gentle hand entwined with his own, and blinking himself out of a trance, Tony glanced over to see those familiar doe eyes staring back at him in not just concern, but understanding.

“It’s okay,” Peter whispered as a new song began to play, squeezing Tony’s fingers in a silent reassurance of “I’m here, you’re here, we’re okay… we’re okay…”

And just like that, the darkness that had settled over Tony’s heart fell away like fog burning under the morning sun. The heaviness lingered on in his chest, but as he wiped away the wetness in his eyes and returned the encouraging squeeze to Peter’s hand, he knew that everything was alright again. That he was back where he needed to be; at a show with his kid, his kid who was very much alive and well.

And when the final song was sung and the cast came forward to take their bow, Tony and Peter’s cheers rose above all the other applause in a show of appreciation for the amazing production. A ‘Well Done!’ from Peter and a ‘Thank you,’ from Tony for helping him to understand another part of his kid’s world. And maybe, a realisation into his own as well.

That night as Peter was about to head off to bed for a much needed sleep, Tony threw aside his old hesitations and dragged the boy into a strong embrace, the final remnants of that heaviness abating as Peter coiled his arms around his back in return.

“Thanks for tonight kid,” he murmured into the boy’s curls.

“You paid for it,” Peter laughed.

“It was fun though.”

“Yeah?” he asked, sounding slightly nervous for the answer.

“Yeah,” Tony assured, pulling back to ruffle the boy’s hair as he added “We should go more often.”

“Really?” Peter gasped, eyes beaming with hope and awe.

“Yeah kiddo. You name it, and we’ll go see it.”

For the second time that night the wind got knocked out of Tony lungs, except this time it was from fondness instead of grief as Peter barrelled into his chest for another hug.

“Thanks Mr Stark! You’re the best!”

Smiling softly, Tony ran a hand through the mess of Peter’s curls and planted a kiss to the crown of his head, not even the slightest bit embarrassed to do so. And out of all the songs, all the beautiful melodies they had witnessed that night, only one echoed back to Tony as he held the boy in his arms.

We’ll give the world to you and you’ll blow us all away. Someday, someday…

Yeah you’ll blow us all away…

~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @joyful-soul-collector @lost-lunar-wolf @lbigreyhound13 @aixabi @zanderljones

[drawing-way-outside-the-lines]

Kristopher ‘Kris’ Bradford *Supporting character

Voice Claim:(Ansel Elgort) https://youtu.be/--0HU52H2RU?t=38

Partner(s): Single. Parents: Barbara Hamilton & Keith Bradford. Kids: None. Age: 37 (2021) Birthday: 3rd of April. Height: 177cm (5.8ft) Body type: Slim. Eye color: Pale light blue.

About: ~ Quiet, Introverted, Lonely, Melancholy, Reserved, Clumsy, Brooding, Absentminded, Mellow, Private, Skeptical, Lazy, Soft, Fair, Unfocused, Gentle, Loyal, Sensitive, Anxious, Observant and Selfless. ~ Unemployed musician. ~ Sexuality: Gay (Still in the closet) ~ Long blonde messy hair. ~ Great guitar player. ~ Even better at writing lyrics, but doesn’t believe in himself. ~ Low self-esteem on max! ~ Lives with an old partner, it’s far from ideal and rather toxic, but he has nowhere else to go and no savings. ~ Gets panic attacks. ~ Nervous around people. ~ Doesn’t open up easily. ~ Sad soul. ~ Outsider. ~ Has minor health issues which prevents him from feeling confident enough to allow people to come close. ~ Childhood Abuse. ~ Mostly sticks to himself. ~ Just call him Kris. ~ Wonders if he will ever get a chance to move forwards in life? ~ Longs for better days. ~ 12/10 needs to be cuddled. ~ Chain smoker. ~ Dislikes people telling him to speak more. ~ Smells like: Smoke and forgotten dreams. ~ Can’t cook anything beyond instant Ramen. ~ Will totally hold your hand while you cry. ~ Hates arguing. ~ Has had his heart broken. ~ Binge watches Netflix shows. ~ Hides in his room for days. ~ Often tired, no matter how much sleep he gets. ~ Night owl. ~ Sad puppy eyes. ~ Often wonders if anyone would notice if he was gone? ~ Longing to be loved again. ~ Puts mustard on a lot of things you shouldn’t put mustard on. ~ Hates when popcorn shells get stuck in his teeth! ~ Avoids large groups of people. ~ Straight up leaves when he gets too uncomfortable. ~ A bit of a mess. ~ Gets on/off anxiety and panic attacks. ~ Loves solitude, cuddling, being close to a loved one, someone playing with his hair, caressing, spooning, deep conversations, watching stars, warm blankets, soft kisses, playing guitar, burgers, fries, beer, cornflakes, the scent of pine, the scent of fresh cut grass, daydreaming, goats, foxes, dolphins, board games, amusement parks, licorice, mustard, long walks, anything minty, grilled chicken, watching the sea, dark chocolate and rain. ~ His style is casual, and not something he really thinks much into, he just wants to be as comfortable as possible. ~ Cries in the shower.

Kris’s tag Kris’s house/home Kris’s moodboard Handwriting/ask answer pic:

One gif to describe him:

One song to describe him: Stereophonics - It Means Nothing Personal Playlist: 1. Nirvana - All Apologies (MTV Unplugged) 2. Pink Floyd - Wish You Were Here 3. Guns N' Roses - Don't Cry 4. Poison - Every Rose Has It’s Thorn 5. Red Hot Chili Peppers - Otherside 6. The Beatles - Hey Jude 7. Saybia - The Second You Sleep 8. The Kills - Black Balloon 9. Staind - Outside 10. Fallulah - Give Us A Little Love 11. Puddle Of Mudd - Blurry 12. Radiohead - No Surprises 13. Pearl Jam - Jeremy 14. Dido - Life for Rent 15. Travis - Why Does It Always Rain On Me?

[uwu-boll]

Yesterday I consumed nearly 4 grams of mushrooms. Here is what that was like for me:

First, this isnt my first rodeo. I've consumed psychedelics a few times before; I wouldnt call myself necessarily experienced but I have an education background in psychopharmacology and I have a couple of trips under my belt already so I knew what to expect and how it was going to feel going into it. 2 months ago. my girlfriend and I purchased 7 grams of mushrooms to split for our anniversary weekend this past week. We purchased a hotel room - I wanted to avoid doing this at home due to a very stressful living situation - and situated our setting so as to be best prepared to go about our experience. This included water, music, videogames, some snacks, etc. The necessities.

Our day started following a night of several shared margaritas and burgers between us. We went swimming, had coffee and a light breakfast, went to therapy together, and then a healthy midday lunch. Following that, we gathered the supplies for the night and settled in at around 3pm. Starting then, I measured out the dosages for the both of us; 2.75g for her, 3.87g for me (the dosages were more or less arbitrary, but we had a ballpark of what kind of experience we were looking for). She ate hers straight up, while I prepared a 'lemon tek'; powdered shrooms soaked in lemon juice for some time. There is some science behind it, but the idea is to shorten the duration or the experience while making it more intense. This also helps with digestion to prevent nausea, although there will still be some present as your body tries to 'reject' the chemical.

My shrooms sat in lemon juice for 20 mins before I tossed them all in orange juice for me to take big gulps of. Disclaimer - I HATE the taste, smell, texture, EVERYTHING about mushrooms. This... isnt necessarily better, but it's the best way to consume them short of capsules, I've found.

3:25 PM: I start drinking my pulpy orange juice - mushroom cocktail. It tastes like sour orange juice, because of the lemon juice I added, but the thought of the mushrooms in there makes me gag before I even get the concoction in my mouth. I can already tell this is going to be an endeavour. I take one big swig, maybe a fifth of the bottle, and approximately a quarter of the dose. I wait about 5 mins before taking another swig

3:35: one more swig, followed by a dab, hoping that the weed will calm my tummy. It does, but not before I nearly puke coughing up a lung

3:45: I finish the cocktail. This whole time I'm watching my girlfriend - who is approximately 15 minutes ahead of me having already dosed - set up the Nintendo switch and design a character on Tony Hawks Pro Skater, the remastered edition. She finishes, we take a dab, and we start playing. We, for some reason, start with a VS game, first to 500,000 points. I dont know why we thought that was a good idea, but we did. From here on, times are approximate.

Approximately 3:50: We are mindlessly skating in complete silence, absolute fixated in this game. I'm pretty high from the dabs as it is, so I'm spacing out and having trouble coordinating.

Approximately 4:00: I'm focused entirely on how gross my stomach feels having drank the cocktail. My body feels heavy, and it's very difficult to coordinate in the game properly.

Approximately 4:15: We are probably 100,000 points into this game before we both realize how long it's going to take before anyone wins. Were both kinda over it, and clearly struggling with performing and we only know it's going to get worse. As the come up begins, I feel a profound sense of anxiety. Recognizing it as the comeup anxiety, I dismiss it, but it's quickly becoming pretty overwhelming. The lemon tek, in shortening and intensifying the experience, creates very powerful come ups. We stop playing THPS and switch to Super Mario 3D World, which makes me feel better

Approximately 4:30: We get through 2 levels before we stop playing for the night. We decide to cuddle and try to calm each other down. We put on Bo Burnham's 'Inside' to listen to while we come up, which was a great idea because we love him. Really got us talking about our pasts and the meanings behind each of his songs. My body is very heavy, but I feel at absolute peace within it - I'm not biting my nails compulsively or shaking my legs - despite the come up anxiety and the slight nausea. I feel attached to the bed, I didnt want to get up even if I had to. I am absolutely CHEESIN, smiling so hard my cheeks still hurt a day later.

Approximately 4:45: I am staring at the wall, looking at what appears to be a pattern overlaying the texture of the wall. I see the same pattern on the bathroom floor. I'm questioning as to whether or not it's really there. I quickly move to the ceiling - a popcorn ceiling - where I am blown away; the lighting in the room makes the ceiling look both purple and green. My pareidolia is going crazy and I see constantly shifting patterns in the white noise that is the popcorn ceiling. The crazy thing is knowing that there is no pattern to the nonsense I am seeing, but making out patterns regardless. I stare at this for awhile. The ceiling is flowing like water.

The exact order of events henceforth are kind of a blur. We lay in bed for the rest of the night, but the topics of discussion vary from point to point, mostly us complimenting each other and praising each other. At some point, Inside ended, and we listened to Hamilton. However, I hardly remember both the end of Inside nor the entirety of Hamilton, and so it's likely that around d approximately 5 oclock, began the Great Existential Breakdown (TM)

At approximately 5 oclock, I was peaking. Emotions were running high, and, in response to being hungry, I had a breakdown because I hated the fact that I was born into a world dominated by cruelty, inhumanity, and the insatiable drive for profit. I hated that I lived in a world where something as simple as hunger was a problem, and that food - a human right - is commodified. I hated that consumption was obligatory, and that to feed the endless gluttony that is the human need to consume, we exploit both our fellow humans, and the planet. I hated that in that obligatory need to consume, weve facilitated this social climate in which it's okay to pollute our world and exploit the human labor condition so as long as its convenient to the consumer and profitable to the corporation. (Now that I think about it, this may have been spurned by Bo Burnhams 'That Funny Feeling', which I feel like is his most powerful song on the album. ) This quickly evolved into how being born, and forced into a world without your consent where conditions like this exist in the first place is inherently a violent act, and that having children is immoral until we create an environment where those conditions are obsolete. Then to how bullshit it is that I am forced to take care of a meatsuit for the whole of my life, but I have to pay to upkeep all of it as if i had some choice in the matter. This lead to me talking about how I wanted to be a transient observer of the universe, untethered to any physical point in space. Not quite dead, not quite alive - still able to see things happen, but not be able to participate. I then went on to say how I didnt think suicide was the answer to my problems because that doesnt necessarily get rid of the conditions that lead to my despair, but rather creates new problems for my loved ones. I knew that the key was to live in despite of the despair and to continue on in search of my own personal meaning.

This breakdown lasted approximately 3 hours and was very emotional for both of us. We spent a lot of time crying and talking about stuff weve never spoken about before. The comedown was very gentle and helped me feel very cathartic and relaxed. Over the course of the comedown I took several dabs, a few of which brought me back to 'The Wonky Space' (TM). However, this was short lived. My girlfriend sat in the tub naked from the waist down, which quickly turned into a bath, and from there, after my breakdown, we started to relax, watch some Shameless, went downstairs, got some snacks, some drinks, and went to bed.

Before I fell asleep, and once I knew the experience was 100% over, I took some time to reflect and felt very satisfied with what happened. It wasnt at all what I expected the night to be, but I felt like I needed to do that, and experience that kind of existential pain. I felt very relaxed once I got control of my body again, and that peace - the general sense of wellbeing, happiness, lack of anxiety, connectivity to my partner and my fellow man - has persisted well into the next day, and will likely continue for at least the next week. 10/10 would do again.

Would I say I had a bad trip? No. Was it a good one? N...no. but I had a great time, it was fun, and enlightening, and helped me realize where I feel like I am struggling mentally.

[whatdidimissjm]

Talk Less

Alex is sitting alone at the bar, a glass of orange juice in his hand. Their entire department had decided to go to a bar and because it´s already quite late, everyone is in different degrees of drunkenness. He is watching Burr trying to flirt with a girl and can´t help but chuckle. He really hopes he will get her number.

“Seems like we are the only sober ones here, huh?”, a voice behind him says, and he turns around, looking up at Jefferson.

He hadn´t really seen the other man the whole evening, so he wasn´t prepared how amazing he looks in casual clothing. The striped pullover hugs his chest in all the right places and Alex had never thought someone could look so hot in jeans; it simply takes his breath away for a moment.

“Yeah…”, he gives back, his voice sounding off.

Jefferson laughs quietly and sits down beside him.

“Why are you not drinking?”, Jefferson asks, nodding at his glass of orange juice.

Alexander shrugs.

“Don´t like what it does to my mind. You?”

At that Jefferson shakes his head amused.

“That´s such a Hamilton answer.”

He huffs irritated.

“What´s that supposed to mean?”

But Jefferson just shakes his head, smiling slightly. They talk for a few minutes, their usual heated fighting turning to easy banter. Alex isn´t sure he´s liking it, because it makes not wanting to kiss the other man so much harder.

“I´m starving.”, Thomas says, after Alex has finished his drink. “Let´s head out and grab something to eat?”

For a second Alex just stares at him, before he nods. Thomas grins and gets up, Alex following suit. They head outside and Alex takes a deep breath, relishing the fresh air. It´s almost too cold for the pullover Alex is wearing, even though it doesn´t seem to affect Thomas at all.

“Do you know a 24/7 place around here?”, Thomas asks, and Alex nods.

“Yeah, there´s one just around the corner, actually.”, he smirks, bumping his shoulder into Thomas´. “But it´s probably not fancy enough for a snob like you.”

“Watch your mouth.”, Thomas warns laughing.

True to Alexander´s words, they arrive at the diner not even ten minutes later. They get into a booth and instantly start fighting for the one menu. Thomas wins, holding it triumphally above his head.

“Fucking asshole.”, Alex mutters, bit his mean words gets contradicted by the smile on his face.

“I´m simply better than you.”

Alex rolls his eyes dramatically, and gets up, slipping into the booth next to Thomas. Their shoulders bump together, and Alex grins up at him. There is something in Thomas´ expression that he can´t quite place, but before he can completely grasp it, he looks away at the menu in front of him.

“What do you think about sharing fries?”, Thomas asks, after having studied the card for some time.

Alex nods.

“Sure. What´re you getting?”

“A burger and either the strawberry milkshake or the Oreo one, I can´t decide.”

“Take the Oreo one! I´ll get the strawberry one and we can switch.”, he proposes, far too excited about his idea.

“How romantic.”, Thomas comments, nudging him with his elbow.

Alexander´s face flushes a bright red, and he is glad that the waitress decides to take their order in this moment.

“Good evening! What can I get you?”, she asks with a bright smile.

Before Alex can answer, though, Thomas starts speaking: “We´ll take the fries, a strawberry and one Oreo milkshake, with two straws each, please. And I´ll get the House Burger. Alexander, what else do you want?”

Alex feels his face burning even more, as he gives the waitress his order, and he doesn´t even know why.

“Are you alright?”, Thomas asks, after she has left.

He turns around to Alex, resting his arm behind his back.

“Yeah?”, Alex answers, but it comes out as more of a question.

Thomas laughs.

“Am I making you flustered, my dear Alexander?”, Thomas asks, his voice low and seductive, and wow if that isn´t doing stuff to him.

“Fuck off, asshole.”, he mutters, but Thomas just laughs more.

Before Alex can embarrass himself anymore, the waitress luckily brings them their order. He reaches for the strawberry milkshake, but Thomas snatches it away, taking a long sip from it.

“Hey!”, Alex says indignantly.

“You said we´re sharing.”, Thomas defends himself, but Alex can see the mischievous glint in his eyes.

“And you made fun of me for it!”, Alex protests.

Thomas rolls his eyes.

“No, I said that it´s romantic.”

Alex takes his burger and bites into it, so that he doesn´t have to reply to this. He can feel Thomas watching him from the side and does his best not to blush at the other man´s attention. He fails, obviously. The conversation flows easily, and Alex enjoys every minute of it. He knows that he shouldn´t get his hopes up, but there are moments, when he thinks Thomas might be flirting with him. After they are done with their burgers and fries, Thomas proposes to get something sweet as a dessert.

“I will literally die if I eat another bite.”

Thomas laughs.

“Don´t be so dramatic.”, Thomas says smiling, and then to the waitress: “We´ll take a piece of chocolate cake.”

“I knew you wanted me dead!”

Thomas just laughs again and Alex can´t help but think that it´s the most beautiful sound he has ever heard. When he thinks about it, he had never heard Thomas laugh so freely and often as at that evening. The waitress is back a moment later with their cake, and Thomas takes the fork and cuts a piece off. He takes a bite from the cake and closes his eyes in bliss. Alex watches him with a smile.

“This tastes amazing.”, Thomas says, loading another piece onto the fork.

He turns around to Alex and moves it into the direction of his mouth.

“Open up!”, he says grinning, and Alex flushes a bright red again, but does as he´s told.

Thomas hadn´t lied, the cake did taste amazing, but Alex was far too distracted by Thomas who keeps feeding him piece after piece of cake. His heart feels like it´s about to jump out of his chest, while Thomas seems to think this is completely normal behaviour for two work rivals.

Alex honestly isn´t even surprised when Thomas pays for their meal without even acknowledging his protests. He feels flattered even though he´d never admit it. Alex follows Thomas outside and stops him, his heart beating fast and loud in his chest.

“Okay, fuck me if I´m wrong, but this was like, a date, right?”, Alex says, and Thomas stares at him with a mix of fondness and amusement.

He takes a step closer to Alex, resting his hands on his hips.

“You are not wrong, but I would still very much like to fuck you.”, he answers, and Alex can feel his knees getting weak.

He lets out something between a moan and a whine and pulls Thomas´ head down, kissing him deeply. Thomas slings his arms around Alexander´s smaller frame, pulling him closer against his body. Alex lets out another undignified noise, and Thomas reluctantly breaks the kiss, resting their foreheads together. Alex can feel Thomas´ hot and rapid breath on his face and shudders.

“I´m flat´s only like a block away.”, he pants, and Alex nods enthusiastically.

“Yes.”, he practically moans, grabbing Thomas´ hand and pulling. “I don´t want Washington to have to bail us out of prison for indecent exposure.”

Thomas keeps standing, even as Alex tries to pull him with him.

“First: please don´t mention Washington while I´m about to have a boner. Second: you´re going in the wrong direction, darling.”

Alex feels his face growing hot again, but at the same time shudders at the pet name. He obediently follows Thomas down the street, still clutching his hand tightly. From time to time he pulls him down for a kiss, still in awe that he can do that. When they finally reach Thomas´ flat and step into the elevator, Thomas presses him against the wall almost immediately, giving him a rough kiss. They almost don´t hear the elevator doors opening again, and blindly stumble out into the corridor. While Thomas struggles with the keys, Alex keeps kissing his neck.

“Stop that, it´s damn distracting!”, Thomas curses, but the small moan that slips out contradicts his words.

He finally manages to open the door and drags Alex into the bedroom, pulling his sweater and t-shirt off on their way there. In the bedroom he turns around to Alex and cups his face with his hands, kissing him so slow and sweet that his head starts to spin.

“You´re gonna be the death of me.”, Thomas mumbles.

Alex just whimpers, and Thomas deepens the kiss. They keep kissing like that for some time their hands roaming each other’s bodies. They are reluctant to break their kissing, but the need for air forces them to. During one of their breaks, Alex pulls Thomas´ sweater over his head, moaning at the sight in front of him.

“God Thomas!“, Alexander pants, before pressing another open-mouthed kiss to the other man´s mouth.

He groans when their hips grind together, burying his face in Thomas´ shoulder for a moment. He starts leaving wet kisses along his jaw, before seeking out Thomas´ mouth again.

“You have no idea how long I´ve wanted to do this.”, Alex whispers into Thomas´ ear, before biting down on it, which causes Thomas to let out a surprised squeak.

“Knew you´d be the vocal type in the bedroom.”, Thomas says fondly.

He guides Alexander´s lips back to his mouth, swallowing his moan, as he slips one hand into his trousers.

“God, I never thought this would actually happen.”, Alex pants again.

Thomas chuckles softly.

“Why don´t you use that pretty mouth of yours for something better?”, Thomas suggests, taking a step backwards.

At that Alexander stiffens, his dazed smile turning forced. His heart skips a beat and he can feel tears starting to form in his eyes. It feels like a slap in the face, but still, he lets himself fall to his knees. He is about to undo Thomas´ trousers, but before he can do that, a hand in his hair stops him. He looks up hesitantly, fearing what he might find in Thomas´ face. He expects anger but instead there is concern written all over it. Before Alexander can react, Thomas is kneeling in front of him, his hand reaching up to cup his face.

“What´s the matter?”, Thomas asks softly.

Alexander drops his gaze again, but Thomas´ fingers curl beneath his chin and gently tilt his head back.

“Hey, talk to me, whatever this is, we can work it out. Did I do something wrong?”

Alexander swallows audibly and takes a deep breath, finally meeting Thomas´ eyes.

“It´s okay if I talk?”, he asks quietly, and he can see the confusion written all over Thomas´ face.

“What? Of course, why-“, he stops, as a sudden thought strikes him. “Wait, is this about me telling you that you should use your mouth for something better?”

When Alexander nods hesitantly, Thomas sighs.

“Sweetheart, that´s not what I meant at all. I love hearing you talk. I would never tell you to stop talking. Why would you think that?”

Alexander takes a few deep breaths, his hand searching for the other man´s. He still hesitates a moment, making sure that Thomas means what he said, before he clears his throat and starts speaking.

“My last… relationship was with a man who always said that I talk too much. He… he always said that I should rather be seen than heard, and when you said that, it just reminded me a lot of him, and I thought… I thought you wanted that too.”

Thomas feels his heart shatter at that.

“Of course not. Alexander, sweetheart, I promise you, I would never ask this of you.”

Thomas helps the younger man to his feet and guides him to his bed. They get in, and Thomas drapes the blanket over them. He pulls Alexander against his chest and presses a kiss to his hair.

“I´m sorry that I destroyed this.”, Alexander whispers after some time, and Thomas feels his heart break a little bit more.

“You didn´t destroy anything. I get to hold you in my arms and that´s enough.”

He can feel Alexander relax slightly.

“You really mean that?”

Thomas shuffles a bit away from him and lifts Alexander´s head with a finger under his chin. Then he leans forward and kisses him, slow and sweet and full of reassurance.

“I do. I could never lie to you. Not about this. Not about us.”

[breanime]

It’s California anon. I really should interact with you more than I do.

1. I’ve never watched bobs burgers (yes I live in shame)

2. Ooh I love billy Russo or Bucky Barnes. There are so many great writers in the marvel fandom

3. Pine then Evans then hemsworth. Hemsworth isn’t really my type but apparently that’s an unpopular opinion.

4. I would love time manipulation, or matter/energy manipulation

5. I do not watch the boys. Should I?

6. Billy is the then Logan

7. Tommy Shelby then Caspian (I have a thing for brunette boys with tragic pasts apparently. It’s a thing, I don’t know why)

8. Female, Demi-bisexual. I don’t know I’m pretty boring; I like reading, baking, writing postcards, playing with my dog, watching baseball, uhhhhhh idk I’m really boring. I really hope we’d be friends because you seem cool but interestingly we’re very different. I come from a VERY conservative background- southeast Asian and conservative Christian where the very thought of partying or even doing weed is very frowned upon (don’t even get me started on dating. Long story short if you don’t see yourself marrying a person you shouldn’t even go on a date with them). That being said, I hope we would be friends. You’ve definitely taught me a lot (I was the 19F female so I definitely have taken your advice). I am not high right now. I currently live with my parents so it’s not an option. And yes, I have terrible anxiety so I am always nervous.

Okay now it’s your turn:

Sexuality and pronouns?

Ethnic background/culture?

Favorite music?

Whose your favorite bre’s boy?

Favorite quote?

Favorite movie or tv show (or both)?

Favorite sport?

Is your family close? Do you have a favorite sibling?

Do you have any pets?

Do you have a favorite animal?

Are you in school? If so, what are you studying?

Are you working? If so, doing what?

Dream career?

If you reply with more questions I’d love to go back and forth with this q and a:)

Ah, yay! California anon! My friend! You should watch The Boys if you can tolerate a lot of violence and gore, it's all related to the plot, but it can get bloody. Also, I'm gonna need you to watch Bob's Burgers whenever you can because it's a masterpiece of a show. I like your superpower, and I am CERTAIN we'd be friend IRL! I really like learning about you and your family! So do you have siblings? Are you the youngest? How about pets? I told my Mom I smoke weed sometimes and she doesn't approve, but we're always open about stuff, thankfully, so it wasn't a hard conversation at all. We joke about it now, and I don't smoke in her house since she doesn't approve. But she does let me smoke outside while she scolds me haha.

Ok, to answer your (awesome) questions:

I'm a bisexual disaster, she/her

I'm Black, my family is from the South Side of Chicago, but my mom moved us to the suburbs, so I always feel like I've got a nice mix of hood and suburbia in me haha

Oof, music is hard. I love all music except screamer music, right now I'm really obsessed with early 2000s r&b cause it was damn near perfection. I also LOVE a good Broadway album. Say what you will about LMm, but the Hamilton soundtrack SLAPS!

My favorite Bre's Boy as a character is the LOML Johnny Tuturro, but my favorite to write for is Angel....or Coco.

My fav quote is a quote from Riley Freeman from The Boondocks "late to bed and late to wake keeps you long on money and short on mistakes".

Like music, my movie list is LONG. One of my favorite movies though is definitely Undrafted, it's such a fun and easy watch. I also LOVE Spirited Away. Fav TV show... hm, The Get Down is a classic masterpiece, and I also love Peaky Blinders (season 2 especially).

I guess basketball is my favorite sport (I like the way it dribbles up and down the court), I'm not really a sports person.

My family is kind of close, kind of messy. We're messy right now though, unfortunate 🙄 My favorite sibling is my big brother Brandon. He's only like 17 months older than me or something. When we were little, we pretended to have a show called the Brandon and BreAnn Show and we had a theme song haha!

I HAD a pet turtle named Speedy, but he ran away. No joke. I also had a cat as a kid that my Dad took and then gave to my step sister so... eh. My little sister has a Maltese named Jasper now who I tolerate haha.

Fav animal is the sloth. I envy their lives.

Not in school, but I graduated from Indiana University in 2015 with a BS in English Education. I also considered minoring in Sociology or Theater, but I never got around to it. I'd love to go back to school someday though.

Not working! I quit my job and have been kind of just bumming for the past 4 months, but I'm looking for a remote job (so if you or anyone else have any suggestions, please let me know!)

My dream career is a professional writer and an actor. Ugh, how I wish.

What's your dream career?

[masterhouse1]

How To Pick A Chinese Takeaway Cooking In Hamilton?

The historical backdrop of Chinese cooking extends back for a few centuries and created the two changes from period to period and assortment in what may be called conventional Chinese food. Now and again we as a whole get uninterested in cooking and agonizing about what to take care of the family.

As a matter of fact the pattern for eating out is surely rising. We are confronted with various choices for nutriment that it is regularly difficult to comprehend the best approach to settle on a genuine decision. little inquiry home-prepared suppers will in general be more beneficial - they're for the most part lower in fat and salt likewise as being higher in products of the soil. With the expanding pattern of choosing takeaway nourishments, it's significant that you basically remember your wellbeing while picking your supper. Some Takeaway food is frequently high in fat, particularly if picking alternatives like spring moves, won tons and seared noodles. Watch additionally for battered meats in sauces, similar to the lemon chicken or the prepared pork. Better alternatives incorporate sautés, steamed dishes, cleave suey, and dish. 

Chinese Takeaways Hamilton should be viewed as a treat, not your typical dinner schedule. For your family's wellbeing, don't have them once consistently - even a lower recurrence than this is regularly better. This incorporates school purchased snacks where decisions could likewise be franks, battered fish, chips, and so forth. Fried fish and French fries are the exemplary English remove food and are the typical public food of Britain.

Some takeaway suppers can push you over your suggested every day most extreme measure of salt and fat, which may cause a spread of medical issues, similar to heart condition and diabetes. Fried fish and French fries that are cooked in oil at the correct temperature taste better and retain less fat. So be cautious with spongy player and chips since this is frequently an image that the oil wasn't sufficiently hot and look at to keep away from dainty cut chips, pies like cheddar and onion pie or steak and meat pie, enormous wiener. However, you'll eat a fish covered in breadcrumbs, side dish, and thicker-cut chips without salt. Presently we see the preferences and downsides of Chinese Takeaway. 

Focal points: the principal obvious favorable position of Chinese Food Hamilton is that it spares time. In the present relentless life, there's nothing better than preparing a feast. Notwithstanding what extent the culinary experts acclaim the upsides of new nourishments, at the head of a dedicated day, when one gets back totally drained and ravenous, a pizza or a burger is regularly a blessing. Other than the time a private must spend inside the kitchen, preparing a feast additionally expects one to frame a visit to the grocery store to look for the elements for the dish. 

At that point there's the additional exertion and time devoured in washing and stripping the vegetables. This makes eating nutriment score all the more ideally over preparing a supper for a bustling person. Other than time, cost-sparing gives nutriment a traction over the feast arranged inside the kitchen. On the off chance that one carries on with alone, at that point it's less expensive to search for a supper at the grocery store instead of cooking it gathering. Likewise, certain quick nourishments like fries and burgers come pretty economically. Nutriment raises wellbeing concerns. Notwithstanding, if cautious, you'll discover a few choices on the menu of a fast food eatery that would be more beneficial. Plates of mixed greens are a reasonable decision. Pick bread items that are comprised of wheat bread. Pick lean meat.

On the off chance that you'll browse the singed and bubbled choices, request the bubbled arrangement. Abstain from requesting carbonic beverages once you are parched. Pick organic product squeezes, milk, and diet pop. You'll generally turn to the 'specially make' alternative that specific nutriment outlets offer, where you'll limit the usage of fixings that aren't sound. 

Weaknesses: the best detriment of nutriment is the antagonistic impact that it's on one's wellbeing. Nutriment is unhealthier than home-prepared dinners, as they contain higher measures of salt, fats, and calories. The more noteworthy the measure of people at a feast during a nutriment eatery, the bigger is that the bill. Eating at nutriment outlets is affordable only for one individual. Going bowed a brisk food eating joint with family once during some time won't make any difference much. Notwithstanding, incessant visits to such eateries with one's family can turn into a very costly issue, other than being unfortunate. 

For More Information:- Yum Cha Hamilton

[doctortreklock]

No Matter How Blessed You Are By Luck - December 26, 2019

Part of my Resolution19. Read it on AO3.

Prompt: Hands Made of Moonlight and Wind (x)

December is a month of remixes and sequels!!!

Fandom: Hamilton

Title: "It is impossible - no matter how blessed you are by luck, or the government, or some remote invisible deity gently steering your life with hands made of moonlight and wind - it is impossible not to feel a little sad." Welcome to Night Vale, Ep. 21

Words: 1887

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"This is never going to work, Dad," Philip hissed, leaning over the back of the bench seat.

Alex didn't look back at him. "It will, Pip," he assured his son. "Go look over the schematics again. Ask Theo what she thinks about using The Battle Hymn of the Republic for the timing."

"It's Philip," he corrected haughtily, before vanishing back into the rear of the van.

Alex could hear him and Theo talking in hushed voices behind him as he scanned the parking lot for the nth time. A glimpse of movement caught his eye, and he straightened up. Showtime.

He rolled down his window, ignoring the groans of complaint from the back as cold December air blew through the van. "Aaron!" he shouted. "Aaron Burr!"

Across the icy parking lot, Aaron Burr looked up and gave a wave of acknowledgement. He cut a dashing figure in a long coat, practically the dictionary definition of tall, dark, and handsome. As Alex watched, he turned from his original path toward the small French patisserie two shops down from the municipal parking lot and instead headed for Alex's van. He hurried, but stepped carefully, and even then Alex could see him slip once or twice in his smooth-soled dress shoes.

The grumbling behind Alex had gotten louder, but he'd been content to watch Aaron's approach, until Phillip's plea - "Dad, close the window; it's freezing back here!" - spurred him into action.

He quickly rolled up the window, then opened the door and stepped out of the van, shutting the door firmly behind him. "Aaron!" he greeted cheerfully.

A dozen feet from him, Aaron stopped, hunching his shoulders slightly against the wind and tucking his chin further into his scarf at the same time. "Alex Hamilton," he said, and his voice was a low, warm rumble. "I was hoping to run into you."

He'd expected Aaron exasperated, or even irritated. He'd expected Aaron polite, friendly, and distant. He wasn't sure what to do with Aaron warm and rumble-y. His grin faltered. "Aaron. I was just--" And while he was faltering, he suddenly remembered the Plan. The very good Plan. No, not the plan Philip and Theodosia were cooking up in the van behind him. No. this was a much better Plan that involved himself and one long-lost, recently relocated ex-boyfriend. His seduce-Aaron-Burr Plan. "I was concerned," Alex continued smoothly. "We need to keep a closer eye on Pip and Theo," he confided in Aaron, inching closer on the slick pavement. "I think they're concocting a scheme. I mean," he explained, "I know they're scheming: I've seen Pip's notebook and I swear that boy lays them out the same way I did." He barreled on before Aaron could interject. "Anyway, I think they're planning something big." He inched closer. "I've seen the schematics," he confided in Aaron, jamming his hands in his pockets for warmth.

Aaron sighed and hid his face behind his black leather gloves for a moment. "Alex," he said, his voice muffled before he let his hand drop to show a hint of warmth and good humor in his eye. Alex's heart skipped a familiar beat. "I don't know how you got Theo roped into this," Aaron continued, and his eyes were dancing, "but you and I both know that if Philip Hamilton is plotting anything, it's because you taught him."

"Well, I never--" Alex started haughtily, feigning indignation.

Aaron waved him off with an amused half-smile. "Now I don't have all day, so if you could just tell me what your harebrained scheme is so I can go buy a croissant, I would greatly appreciate it."

He looked warm and welcoming and like every good memory Alex had from his early 20s. A gust of cold wind blew across the parking lot and Alex shivered in his coat. Aaron braced his shoulders against the wind and Alex made a snap decision.

"Let's go get your croissant," he told Aaron. "And I'll buy you a cup of coffee." He'd meant it as a statement, but it turned into a question once it hit the air.

Aaron did a subtle double-take, and Alex tried to hold a confident smile. Yes, I did just inadvertently ask you on a date. You interested? Aaron had been his first boyfriend, his first real love. And then Aaron had gotten a different job and moved away like they hadn't been building something at all. And Alex and Eliza had found each other and gotten married and had children together and gotten divorced.

Meanwhile, Aaron had apparently gotten married himself and had a daughter before becoming a widower. And then two months ago he'd come back to the same corner of the world he'd left two and a half decades earlier. Why? Alex wanted to ask him. Why here? Why now? ...Does it have anything to do with me?

But of course he hadn't asked those questions, because Alexander Hamilton might have had a rambling tongue, but Aaron Burr was as silent as a tomb when he wanted to be. He'd yet to get up the nerve to say anything the half-dozen times their paths had crossed in the last few weeks. And Alex didn't know if he'd get the answers he wanted by asking anyway.

So apparently that meant he'd asked Aaron out instead.

"Okay," Aaron agreed slowly. "Coffee and croissants."

"Okay," Alex repeated. "Let me tell the kids we're going." He turned around and stepped carefully back to the van. He knocked on the window twice and loudly announced, "We're going for coffee. Don't get lost."

When he turned back, Aaron was watching him, an amused, heart-meltingly familiar half-smile lurking around his lips. Alex beamed at him. "On to the bakery."

The pair slipped and slid their way across the blacktop to the sidewalk.

"What's the scheme anyway?" Aaron asked, his breath steaming in the cool air.

"What? Oh, yes. Well," Alex said, getting more animated. "You're going to love this, Aaron. Hang on, wait up." He tugged lightly on Aaron's arm to stop him a few feet down the sidewalk.

"What?"

"I have to tell you before we get to the cafe," Alex explained, ignoring the traffic at his back.

"You're going to freeze to death before then," Aaron said, pointedly looking at Alex's bare fingers.

"It's fine," Alex said dismissively. "Anyway, you'll never guess who owns that French bakery we're going to."

Aaron hummed distractedly in response, tugging off his own leather gloves and tucking them in a pocket.

"It's George LeRoi, Junior!" Alex told him excitedly.

"Really?" Aaron asked. He reached out to pluck Alex's hands out of the air, warming them between his own palms. "The LeRoi from Royal Burger?"

Alex faltered. The gesture was familiar and caring and so instinctual, Alex wondered if he'd done it for his wife. If Theodosia had perennially forgotten her gloves the way Alex so often had. Or if she'd been prepared and practical the way Aaron was, and this muscle memory was reserved for Alex alone.

Aaron looked up at his uncharacteristic silence and gave Alex a small smile that warmed his eyes and told Alex everything he needed to know about Aaron's intentions.

"LeRoi?" Aaron prompted.

"LeRoi," Alex echoed breathlessly. "Right. George LeRoi's only son and heir. He didn't want the burger chain, but he did go to culinary school and opened this patisserie."

"And the heist?" Aaron asked. "Elaborate and over-complicated as usual?"

A cough and a "'Scuse me!" broke through the warm bubble they were standing in as Alex realized the pair were talking up the lion's share of the sidewalk. It wasn't a busy street, but that was no excuse to be rude. Aaron flashed a polite smile at the disgruntled woman trying to get past and stepped forward into Alex's space, never letting go of his hands.

Alex took a sudden breath at Aaron's closeness. He'd forgotten how close they were in height, how a couple inches either way made up the difference. He could feel the warmth emanating from Aaron all down his front, a sharp contrast to the chill up his spine. He hadn't been this close to Aaron since...since their last kiss, just before Aaron had broken up with him and driven away.

"I--I let Pip do a lot of the planning," Alex told him, trying to keep his voice normal. "So it's not as elaborate and over-complicated as, say, the great Christmas Waltz Caper, but it's not bad."

The skin by Aaron's eyes crinkled when he smiled. Oh, those crow's feet were going to be the death of him, Alex thought desperately. "Christmas songs in August," he reminisced, lightly rubbing the backs of Alex's warmed hands with his thumbs. "What do you have now that it's December? Love songs for Valentine's Day?"

"The Battle Hymn of the Republic," Alex told him absently, trying not to melt into him like a Hamilton-puddle. Even if that's totally what he felt like. Somewhere in here, his plan of seducing Aaron seemed to have gotten turned around. He couldn't honestly say he minded.

Aaron laughed, and Alex hadn't remembered how much he had missed the sound. He pulled a hand free and wrapped it around the lapel of Aaron's wool coat. He was just about to pull Aaron forward into a kiss - polite manners be damned, the man had warmed his hands - when Aaron was jostled and pushed forward, just catching his balance on the ice before he and Alex would have fallen into the street.

"Sorry, Dad!" Alex heard, and it took a second to register that that wasn't his child's voice.

He looked at Aaron in alarm, only to see the look mirrored back at him. A second pair of running feet caught his ear and Alex twisted to look around Aaron, only to see his own son skidding intermittently down the sidewalk past them. A glance further down showed Theo, almost back at the van already.

Slowly, Alex turned toward where the pair had come from, still clutching Aaron's lapel, ignoring the low swearing coming from the other man's mouth, to see George LeRoi, Jr himself cursing a blue streak in the door of the patisserie, literally shaking a broom like a cartoon caricature of an angry shopkeeper.

Alex could faintly hear the chorus of The Battle Hymn of the Republic echo down the street. Glory, glory, hallelujah. His truth is marching on...

He wasn't sure if the proper response here would be to laugh, to cry, or to call Eliza and preemptively claim ignorance.

"I'm going to kill you," Aaron told him calmly. "I'm going to pay bail for my sweet little girl whom your son has corrupted over the span of two months, and then I'm going to kill you."

"And then let me kiss you?" Alex asked hopefully, his attention snapping back to Aaron.

The smile that spread across Aaron's face was blinding. "If you like.

Screw later, Alex thought. If Aaron wanted this too, he was damn well going to make sure they got it.

So he tugged on Aaron's lapel and wrapped his other hand around the back of Aaron's neck and pulled him unresisting into a kiss.

Alex's lips were cold, but Aaron's were warm, and they would warm his soon enough. They always had before.

[sunshinepeter]

christmas eve car-rides

ao3

“Hey, Tony. It’s May.”

“As if I wouldn’t have my favorite aunt as a contact already.”

“Whatever. I am so sorry to call so close to the holidays, but I… Well, I kinda need a favor. And you still haven’t made up for the fact that you hid Peter’s Spider-Manning from me for such a long time, so you can’t say no unless you want to be seen as a real douche.”

“May, that was when he was fifteen. How many years ago? Four?”

“Tony.”

“Fine. What do you need?”

--

MIT and May’s apartment in Queens was an exact 3 hours and 17 minute drive.

As Tony pulled up outside the dorm building May informed him that Peter was in, Tony sighed, glancing at the clock and back at the door. Christmas Eve, and traffic was going to be a bitch. Tony was on the road from his own home at almost seven in the morning, and just arrived then, at almost noon. Which meant a stop for lunch before they even started going, and by one PM, the road was going to be awful.

But Tony couldn’t complain when he saw Peter Parker himself emerge from the dorm, inter coat wrapped tightly around him, timbs crunching snow beneath them, waving goodbye to someone else who had left the dorm. Tony was surprised to find people still at the dorms on Christmas Eve despite Peter.

Peter was supposed to get a flight out from Massachusetts the day before, but since the bad snow storm caused planes to be cancelled, couldn’t get onto another flight. And, May had to work until six that night, thus Tony Stark was picking Peter up for a mini road trip back to Queens, and back to Christmas.

“Hi!” Peter said as he opened the backseat and threw his duffel bag and backpack back there, before scurrying to get into the front seat. It had been a long time since the awkward teenager Peter Parker sat in the backseat while Happy or Tony was driving him. Now he shimmied down into the heated seat and smiled widely at Tony. “Thanks so much for driving all the way out here. I know it was probably really annoying and—”

“And completely worth it since I haven’t seen your chubby little college face since, what, October?”

“You literally saw me, like, two weeks ago, Mr. Stark.”

“But I didn’t see you, see you. Saying hi backstage for five minutes after a lecture? Not seeing you, kid.”

The kid smiled smally, buckling his seatbelt as they started driving, and instantly Tony broke the silence by saying, “I used to live there, in Next House when I was a kid here.”

They chatted aimlessly (Tony’s projects, Peter’s schoolwork, how much he misses Spider-Man patrol every night, etc.) until it was fifteen minutes later and Tony makes a sharp turn into McDonalds, which he would only allow on roadtrips.

Tony got a burger, fries, and a diet coke. Peter got an eight piece chicken nugget with a large fry and a kiddie meal cheeseburger and fries. And a vanilla milkshake.

“Look!” Peter held up the little toy that had come with it. Tony laughed openly, and Peter looked pleased with himself.

“So, besides schoolwork being a pain and missing Spider-Man, how are you adjusting to college?”

“Good. Boston is a lot slower than New York, but it’s still fun. My roommates are nice and all, but I still mostly hang out with Ned.”

“How’s Fred doing?” Tony asked, merging onto the highway.

“Ned is doing great, thanks.” Peter turned, looking out the window. From the major storm almost two days ago now, there were still piles of dirty snow piled on the side of the road. Some small snowflakes still fell softly around them, causing a gloomy grey atmosphere to surround them. Peter smiled to himself, breathing in deeply. The car smelled like Tony. He wasn’t sure what that exactly meant, it just did. It reminded him of his high school days, where he would spend days at a time with Tony, tagging along to science conferences, working in the lab, those few times he even stayed with Pepper and Tony. “How’s Morgan been?”

The three year old had a liking to Peter. Peter always babysat her when she was younger and he still lived near. She asked Tony on too many occasions if Peter was her brother.

“She’s good. Missing you a lot. Especially when you used to play with her upside down.”

Peter laughed, and nodded. “I miss her, too. Can I visit while I’m in New York?”

“I think Mor would be honestly offended if you didn’t, kid.”

Peter sipped his milkshake, still fiddling with the toy in his hand. Tony noticed his fingers had red nail polish chipping off them.

“When did you do that?” Tony reached over and grabbed his hand, examining the maroon. Peter pulled his hand back, self conscience.

“My roommates girlfriend did it one day while she waited for him to get back to the dorm. I didn’t really have a choice in the matter. Also nail polish remover smells super bad, especially someone who has intense smell.”

“It looks good.” Tony nodded.

“Thanks.”

The first hour was fine. A bit of traffic as they left the city, which was reasonable, but nevertheless okay.

Peter had, at some point in that first hour, plugged in his phone to charge and in doing so realized he could play music. So they were contentedly listening to Hamilton.

“How do you know all the words?” Tony asked, laughing as he watched Peter try to dance along (key word try) to the upbeat parts (it was him moving his head around and bouncing a little in his seat).

“Jus’ do. Listen to it too much, I guess.”

Two songs later, they were in a brief bumper to bumper traffic stop due to a crash, and Peter was furiously texting someone.

Tony suddenly felt like he couldn’t talk to the kid. It had been so long, and the kid had a new life in Massachusetts. The kid doesn’t need Tony anymore. Well, he never needed Tony in the first place, but it was nice for Tony to spoil him when he was in high school.

One hour, then two, and even after driving for almost three hours, they hadn’t even gotten halfway home. The snow was getting heavier, though not intense, and though there weren’t that many cars on the road, everyone was driving slowly, scared to spin off the road on ice or a frozen engine or brake.

“...Then, Ned completely downed the water, and made the face pretending it was really awful. It was so funny.”

“Sounds hilarious,” Tony smiled contently at the road, then glanced over at the boy, unsure. “Have you… Have you been drinking? Not water shots, but real shots?”

Peter looked to his lap, and before he responded, Tony quickly added, “It’s not a big deal if you are. I just… I want to make sure you are doing it responsibly. When I went to college, not that our experiences are in anyway the same, of course, I drank a lot. Too much. It was… I wish I had someone, an adult I mean, not just Rhodey, to tell me to hold it a little bit, and that the soft buzz from one was enough and the lifelong regret wasn’t worth the blackout.”

“I’m not drinking, Mr. Stark. I mean, at the start of the year I went to this party and decided to have one, but… it was disgusting,” Peter said, looking at Tony earnestly, then cracking a smile. “Alcohol isn’t for me.”

“Okay. That’s… alright. That’s good,” Tony smiled, glad his Peter wasn’t continuing down the same destructive blackout alcoholic path he had been on for so long. “That’s really okay. A lotta people don’t drink. I barely do anymore.”

“Do you think Morgan is going to like alcohol?”

“That girl is hyperactive enough, kid. And… Pep is most likely already preaching the badness of alcohol to her. I doubt she will, what with having to grow up with my past haunting her.”

It was a deep seeded fear of Tony’s, one that he rarely expressed to anyone other than Pepper, but also one that was no doubt going to come true at least a bit. Hell, it already had begun. When Morgan was born, it was almost instantaneously that Morgan was thrown into the spotlight, with articles and online news sites writing about the newest Stark, and how she will have to inherit the company, etcetera. Which wasn’t true in the slightest. If she went down the same path as Tony with mechanical engineering and showed an interest in wanting to run the company, then she would inherit it. If not, Tony would find someone else. He would never force her to inherit if she didn’t want to. Maybe Peter would be able to take it over. Or he could leave it to Harley. Who knows yet.

“That’s also kinda why I’m not gonna drink,” Peter said softly, suddenly looking sheepish and a bit nervous. “I mean, I get that it’s my choice and beer is honestly disgusting. But even if it wasn’t… I don’t want to let you down.”

“Peter…” Tony clapped his shoulder in a fatherly manor, then ruffled the boy’s curly hair. “You could never let me down.”

--

They finally arrived at the apartment at half past six.

“Thank you so much, Mr. Stark.” Peter had said this about four times on the road, but apparently felt the need to say it once more as they pulled up. Tony put the car in park, and smirked.

“Like I said, no issue. Lemme come up and say hi to May.”

Tony carried Peter’s backpack for him (“God, kid. How much does this weigh?”), and followed him to the stairs then to the apartment. He waved at someone outside a different apartment, who smiled back.

“Merry Christmas, Parker! Dile tu tia feliz navidad, yeah?”

“I will! Tell Alberto for me!” Peter held up a hand in respect, then knocked on his own apartment. He turned to Tony and sighed, “I think my key is buried in my bag.”

Tony just chuckled.

The door swung open, and May smiled widely, opening her arms widely. “Hello!”

Peter hugged her tightly, dropping his duffel ont he ground. Tony picked it up, and stepped inside past them.

“Hey, good you came up!”

Tony raised an eyebrow and turned to find Pepper sitting on the couch in the Parker’s living room, Morgan sitting on her lap chewing on something.

“Why are you here?”

“May’s car broke down at work. Wouldn’t start when she went on her lunch break. She called to ask if I could call a tow truck for her, and then I, sorry we…” She gestured to Morgan, who had perked up at Tony’s voice and was trying to climb off the sofa to get to him. “Picked her up. Just got here like, ten minutes ago. I decided to stay to see Peter!”

Peter had looked over at this point, and beamed.

“Hi, Pepper!” He said, jogging over quickly to give a tight hug. “And hi Morgan!”

“Petey!” Morgan screeched, now sidetracked from her quest to get to Tony and instead waddling her way over to Peter, grabby hands in his direction. “Up, up!”

Peter scooped her up, and planted a kiss on her cheek, which she giggled to. “Hi, Mor. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas!” She yelled, but it sounded roughly like, “mewwy chrimmas”. Still adorable.

“Good to see you, Tony,” May said, also giving Tony a quick and light hug.

--

Pepper, Morgan, and Tony left two hours later, after eating dinner in the apartment and Pepper and Tony getting to watch Peter and May open the presents they had gotten them (an Apple watch for each of them, because that is a good gift even if not StarkTech goddammit).

Before they left, however, Tony made Peter come all the way downstairs to the car to get one other present he had for Peter.

Tony retrieved it from the trunk, and held it out to the boy. It was a faded red sweatshirt, with grey block letters of MIT on the front, outlined in black.

“This was a sweatshirt that Rhodey actually got for me the first Christmas I knew him. It doesn’t really fit me anymore, but… I thought you might want to have it. You know, since you go to the school and all. Plus, it could be like a sorta tradition. I got it my first Christmas at MIT, now you got it your first—”

Peter almost tackled Tony to the snow covered ground in a bone crushing hug.

“Thank you, Tony. I love it,” He said, holding it to his chest when they broke apart.

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony waved off the kid with a smile. He saw Pepper emerging from the apartment building with Morgan behind Peter. “You can wear it over your Spider-Man suit when you go patrolling in a few days. In case you get cold.”

Peter gave one last hug to Tony, then another one to Pepper and Morgan, and with one last wave darted inside.

Tony smiled softly, picking up Morgan, who was staring at the door Peter just went in.

“Where’s brother going?” She asked sadly.

“Don’t worry, Mor,” Tony said quietly, grabbing Pepper’s hand with his free one. “You will see him soon.”

[caveartfair]

What Andy Warhol Really Ate

Image courtesy of Burger King.

Andy Warhol was known to eat hamburgers, but they weren’t exactly his go-to meal. In his 1975 book The Philosophy of Andy Warhol (From A to B & Back Again), the Pop art pioneer wrote that he was not too keen on protein.

“I’ll buy a huge piece of meat, cook it up for dinner, and then right before it’s done I’ll break down and have what I wanted for dinner in the first place—bread and jam,” the artist wrote. “I’m only kidding myself when I go through the motions of cooking protein: all I ever really want is sugar.…People expect you to eat protein and you do so they won’t talk.”

But after watching the latest Burger King commercial, which premiered during Super Bowl LIII and declared in its slogan to “#EatLikeAndy,” you wouldn’t guess that the artist had tepid feelings toward meat. It features a clip from 1982 by Danish filmmaker Jørgen Leth in which Warhol slowly unwraps a Burger King delicacy, then sinks his teeth into it. As many outlets reported following the ad spot, Warhol actually preferred McDonald’s—but for its design, not the food. According to Warhol’s diaries and accounts from his friends and employees, he was not a die-hard burger fan. Instead, for much of his life, Warhol was known to eat very little, indulge in decadent desserts, and in his final years, avoid meat per doctor’s orders.

Campbell's Soup I: Vegetable II.48, 1968. Andy Warhol Hamilton-Selway Fine Art

Campbell's Soup I (Pepper Pot), 1968. Andy Warhol Collectors Contemporary

Warhol typically started his day (which often began in the early afternoon) with a bowl of Kellogg’s Corn Flakes or, later, peppermint tea and a toasted English muffin with marmalade. Unsurprisingly, he also frequently consumed Campbell’s soup, the subject of some of his best-known paintings. In the 2015 BBC Four documentary A Day in the Life of Andy Warhol, BBC correspondent Stephen Smith explained that Warhol’s love for the soup went beyond the aesthetics of the can; he saw it as “the food of life,” Smith said, “a square meal you could depend on.” And Warhol did, regularly.

He enjoyed fruits, too, like bananas (also unsurprising) and cherries. He once recalled eating so many cherries that he had to hide the bowl of pits from his sight. “That’s the hard part of overdosing on cherries—you have all the pits to tell you exactly how many you ate. Not more or less. Exactly,” he wrote. “One-seed fruits really bother me for that reason. That’s why I’d always rather eat raisins than prunes. Prune pits are even more imposing than cherry pits.”

Warhol also had an insatiable sweet tooth. “When I was a child I never had a fantasy about having a maid, what I had a fantasy about having was candy,” he wrote in The Philosophy of Andy Warhol. “As I matured that fantasy translated itself into ‘make money to have candy,’ because as you get older, of course, you get more realistic.”

RARE NEAR MINT, "Andy Warhol", Velvet Underground & Nico, UN-PEELED Banana Sticker Cover, Album LP, RARE NEAR MINT CONDITION, 1967. Andy Warhol VINCE fine arts/ephemera

NEAR MINT- "Velvet Underground & Nico", 1967, "PEELED" Torso/Black Banner Sticker, USA Mono Copy, MUSEUM QUALITY, RARE, 1967. Andy Warhol and Lou Reed VINCE fine arts/ephemera

In the book, Warhol also described his recipe for “cake”: “You take some chocolate…and you take two pieces of bread…and you put the candy in the middle and you make a sandwich of it. And that would be cake.” In the 1960s, he frequented the Upper East Side restaurant Serendipity for its speciality, a glass of frozen hot chocolate, which he indulged in at lunchtime.

Other days, however, Warhol skipped lunch entirely. Famously image-obsessed and known for having a daily speed habit, he would take the amphetamine Obetrol (which was branded as a diet pill) and regularly worried about his weight fluctuations in his diaries. In order to stay thin while eating out at restaurants constantly, he developed a strategy for maintaining his figure, which he called “the Andy Warhol New York City diet.”

“When I order in a restaurant, I order everything that I don’t want, so I have a lot to play around with while everyone else eats,” he wrote in The Philosophy of Andy Warhol. “Then, no matter how chic the restaurant is, I insist that the waiter wrap the entire plate up like a to-go order, and after we leave the restaurant I find a little corner outside in the street to leave the plate in, because there are so many people in New York who live in the streets.…So I lose weight and stay trim, and I think that maybe one of those people will find a Grenouille dinner on the window ledge.”

Torte a La Dobosch (from Wild Raspberries) (see Feldman & Schellmann IV.130.A), 1959. Andy Warhol Forum Auctions

Ice Cream Cone, 1959. Andy Warhol Susan Sheehan Gallery

While working, Warhol often ordered in from the health food store Brownies on East 16th Street near Union Square, when the Factory was there in the late 1960s and ’70s. (He wrote in his diaries in 1980 that he once sent singer Carly Simon to the store to pick up “health sandwiches.”) When Warhol moved the Factory to East 33rd Street in 1984, he wrote: “I’ll miss ordering out from Brownies, all the carrot juices and stuff. What’re we going to do for food in this new neighborhood? I’ve only seen greasy coffee shops.”

Beginning in the late 1960s, Warhol’s health declined due to the serious gunshot wound he suffered from Valerie Solanas in 1968, but also because of an unhealthy gallbladder—an affliction he inherited from his father. He was told he needed the organ removed in the ’70s, but due to his fear of death and hospitals, particularly following the shooting, he pushed it off until 1987. By the mid-1970s, Warhol was taking pills for his gallbladder before each meal, and he was also given diet advice from his doctors.

Dietician Amy Shapiro notes that people experiencing gallbladder issues are advised to avoid foods high in fat, and should instead seek out “low-fat, easily digestible foods such as simple carbohydrates,” as the gallbladder produces the bile the body needs for digestion. That Warhol was content to eat jam sandwiches for dinner makes sense, she said, because such foods will “more likely than not prevent a flare up.” Fat cuts of meat, she added, could cause the gallbladder to become inflamed.

Life Savers, 1985. Andy Warhol Collectors Contemporary

But Warhol often ignored his doctor’s advice. In April 1980, he wrote: “I’m eating the nuts and chocolate and all the things that I’m not supposed to eat because of my gallbladder, because I think the gallbladder pills are helping so that I can eat them. But I’m getting fat so I’ll have to stop.” And years later, in September 1984, he recalled eating chicken for lunch with his friend Benjamin Liu outside of the Whitney. “And a woman came by and saw me eating chicken and said ‘That’s a no-no,’ and she was right,” he wrote. “I’m not supposed to eat meat. But I’m trying to be more normal.”

Warhol reached a breaking point one evening in February 1987, after dinner with friends at the Japanese restaurant Nippon. He felt sharp pain and went home; he guessed it was “a gallbladder attack” and threw away his junk food. Two weeks later, he was admitted at New York Hospital to have his gallbladder removed, and died shortly after. The surgeon found that his gallbladder was full of gangrene, his body had never fully recovered from being shot, he was dehydrated, and had eaten very little in the month prior, as Dr. John A. Ryan told the New York Times in 2017.

So while these anecdotes only offer a few glimpses into Warhol’s diet, it’s safe to say that the slogan “#EatLikeAndy” certainly comes with more baggage than Burger King’s ads let on. And though it probably wouldn’t be wise to emulate these eating habits, they serve to remind us that the endlessly influential and legendary artist was only human.

from Artsy News

[wwonder-landd]

From Kitchen to Couple

PART THREE 

Pairing: Anthony x Female!Reader

Warnings: None :) read on buds

Preview: The reader recieves a package with important information in it, while Anthony, Jasmine and Pippa have a surprise of their own. 

Masterlist | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four 

Tuesday, the wake up, 7:30am

Waking up today was not easy at all. You had stayed up most of the previous night finishing your music history paper. It was roughly two pages, you decided you’d check it over at lunch today. 

Getting out of bed and seeing that your roommate actually was here today, Phillipa was her name, and she frequently went home to Illinois to see her family. 

“Hey Pip, how was your family?” 

“Good, you know, as good as they can be.” She replied as she rubbed her eyes and sat up in her bed.

Recently she’d found out that her grandma’s now has Alzheimer’s.  She had developed Dementia when Phillipa was seventeen, and that’s what pushed Pip to want to join the theatre class. She had one year left in high school and she was taking a freshman level theatre class. She said that one act was the thing that her grandmother had ever come to see, and well, recalled. 

It was very hard for Phillipa, as she was very close to her grandmother. As time went on, Pip’s love of theatre did grow, that’s even what she studies in college now. For all of that, she is very thankful and she calls her grandma after every show. 

“I did it grams,” she’d say as you sat across from her at a local diner or in the taxi, wherever you may be at the time her newest production ended. 

You had met Phillipa’s family once, at one of her birthday parties, well her twenty-first you were there. Her family thanked you for being in Pippa’s life in such a positive way and always being there for her. To which you reminded them that she was your best friend and that no matter what you’d always be right there for her. 

“Do you wanna go get breakfast before class?” Pippa asks you.

“Yeah sure thing, just let me actually get ready instead of sitting with my thoughts.” 

“Oh, there was a package delivered to us today. Rodger said it’s from your mom and she said it was urgent.” 

“Go on and open it Pip.”

“It’s your journal, and an application?” She replied while brushing through her hair.

Finally emerging from the bathroom, you grabbed the package. “It being my journal makes sense, but what is this?” You grabbed your phone to text your mom.

The Confusing Text, 7:42am

Y/N What is this application with the journal?

You and Pippa then waited for your phone to buzz again.

Mom Look closer, it’s not an application. More of an acceptance!

Finally getting a good look at it, you realized it was addressed to you.

Hello Miss. Y/N L/N We are happy to inform you, that your video was taken into much consideration in our judging.

Video taken into consideration? What video and what judging?

We are delighted here at the Richard Rodgers to host you as a music director, with our very own Alex Lacamoire.

Oh my God, the Alex Lacamoire..

We hope to see you on the evening of Tuesday, December 19, 2015 at 7:30pm for the conference of casting. No worries, we have told your professors and family of the occurrence. We realize at the ripe age of twenty-one this is very new and foreign, please have no hesitation to contact us at  Hamilton@broadwaybusiness.org  Again, we hope to see you there! Thank you for your cooperation. Lin-Manuel Miranda and Crew

Did Lin-Manuel Miranda really just send me his work email, so I can.. Work with him?

The Realization, 7:50am

“Pippa oh my God, do you realize what this means?” You say clutching the letter tighter.

“It means you’re going to meet Lin-Manuel Miranda. You love him!”

“We still have to get ready.”

“Of course, leave it to you to jump right back to the real world in two seconds after receiving the best news!” She says with a laugh.

“We still have morning classes.” 

The Class Must Go On, 10:09am

So you’ve heard of “the show must go on?” but “the classes all must go on,” was a whole other concept, especially today. In just nine hours you would be standing in the same room as Lin-Manuel Miranda and Alex Lacamoire.

Through a music history test and many notes about why music is the way it is and how many different styles have come to be over the span of many centuries, it was finally time to do something you usually despised, Group Theory.

Granted Group Theory wasn’t that bad, it was actually interesting, but grouping up was always hard. It was always you and Pippa and two other random people.

(917) 304 - 8604 Hey girl! It’s Jasmine, Ant and I thought you and your friend might wanna be in our group? Her name’s Phillipa right? Come on over if you wanna!

“Come on Pip, we can be with Anthony and Jas!” You say while you grab her arm and pull her over towards their seats.

“Who?”

“Hey Y/N! Hi Phillipa! I’m Jasmine and this is Anthony. We met Y/N last week in the dorm kitchen. I hope you’re okay grouping up, we don’t like grouping up that much.” Jasmine says with a radiant smile on her face.

“Yes of course it’s okay!” Phillipa replies with a smile on her face, of course she would say yes to Jasmine and Anthony, they’re so smiley and nice, and she trusts your thoughts on people.

Off to Lunch, 12:55pm

It was the four of you. All of class. All out the doors. All somehow, quite magically, fitting into one cab. All huddled in a booth at Jimmy’s, a local diner. Ordering one veggie burger with fries for yourself along with a milkshake, but how could you resist. Pippa laughed at how you the meal was, “of course you’d order that,” she whispered to the three of you. 

You all got along good, all said random jokes and talked about a little bit of everything while you ate. 

“Y/N got a letter about Hamilton today.” Pippa said.

“You got a what!” Anthony said, his voice very loudly and full of energy.

“A letter,” you say, pulling it out of your purse, “here, read it.” You say as you hand the letter to their side of the table. You watched the two of them as they scanned the letter, reading with anticipation. 

“Y/N that’s fantastic!” Jasmine says, handing it back to you.

“Yeah, I’m really happy for you.” Anthony says with a smile on his face, but you can tell that he wished he had gotten one. 

“Hey Anthony, stop that! I’m telling you, maybe you’ll get one!” You say grabbing a fry and giving him a smile before popping it in your mouth.

“Yeah, maybe one day.” 

Preparing for the Meeting, 6:09pm

“Y/N if you would sit still and calm down I could do your hair!” Pippa says, for what seemed to be the thousandth time tonight. She was curling your hair before you had to go to the cast meeting in an hour.

Half your hair curled, flowy maroon shirt on, with some skinny jeans and some ankle-high boots, you hoped it looked nice. Pippa told you it did at least twenty times in the last hour and you still asked.

Jasmine has created a groupchat

Jasmine Hi Y/N, it’s Jas & Anthony in this. You’re gonna do great tonight!! We believe in ya! :) 

Jasmine was always incredibly nice and supportive of you in all that you did, and it really showed at times like this. You read the text to Pippa before responding.

Y/N Thank you Jas, and Ant, you’re both incredibly supportive, I couldn’t thank you more!

Ant Trust us when we say you’ll be shocked tonight, I hope it all goes well for you :)

You had meant every word, they were both so nice, Pippa too. You loved them all with your whole heart. 

“Okay Pippa, I’m off to one of the scariest things I’ve ever done!” You said as you grabbed your bag and headed for the door.

“Oh hush girl! You’re gonna do great!”

The Meeting, 7:30pm

You were really there, Lin-Manuel Miranda in your reach. You even hugged him. Not without telling him you were one of his biggest fans, aside from Vanessa and Sebastian of course. 

Unbeknownst to you, Pippa was walking in the door, followed by Anthony and Jasmine, all three of your friends filing in the doors of the theatre. 

“Anthony! Jasmine! Pippa! Like we would start without you!” You heard Alex say behind you a row. 

Turning and seeing them all there made it that much more real. 

“Y/N! My woman! You didn’t really think I was too bummed today did you? Or am I just that good of an actor?” Anthony says, as he flops in the seat beside you, arm around your shoulders, after shaking Lin’s hand. 

“Oh trust me, you’re really that good.” You replied, as Lin called roll to make sure everyone who was set to come, had arrived.