its so stupid to me when someone goes up to somebody (recently in the inboxes of palestinians doing their damndest to share information about whats going on with the genocide of their own people and some of yall still cant take being spoon fed this as if its the worst thing to happen to you to just pay attention (but it happens also after any catastrophe yall just rock up to anyone you judge an affected minority be it someone of another race, culture, gender, sexuality w/e)) and you ask "well who should i vote for"

thats your choice

when you turned 18 in the us of a you gained the right to choose whoever the hell you want on the ballot for president. nobody can make you vote for somebody or withold it. you make that decision. you should be able to think for yourself. do some research and stop talking out of your ass because that is literally the least you could do.

and also you shouldn't be going to someone (especially someone who this is of he least concern of) and go "well what do you think i think i have to vote for x because *despite every atrocity they've ever comitted* theyre still better than the other guy!" because what do you want? forgiveness? you made a choice. you also just told somebody that this choice WILL AFFECT that it was the only choice available to you (even though it wasnt). and then act like they should be grateful. like you're doing them a favor.

Printed my first sticker. Turned out perfectly. Printed two more and made such stupid mistakes, truly truly brainless mistakes, that I will use this for decades as the reason to not believe anyone calling me smart ever again.

Sure was nice when a slice of Kraft American cheese actually covered the whole slice of bread. I'd already noticed that they've really shrunk up in size this past year, but it really hits hard when you just want to make a grilled cheese and you've got a half inch of nothing but bread all the way around to bite through until you get to the little square of cheese in the center. :(

Also, I used to love them. They were delicious just eaten plain. But then several years ago the taste seemed to change, and not in a way I liked. While poking around just now trying to find out exactly how much smaller the slices have gotten (they've at least dropped from 3/4 oz. to 2/3 oz.), that the taste change seemed to happen when they removed artificial preservatives from the product. That seems like a good thing, but...DAMN, I WANT THOSE TASTY ARTIFICIAL PRESERVATIVES BACK. I wonder if any other people switched to mostly buying fresh deli cheese instead when the taste changed? No wonder their sales went flat.

Rich boy! gojo getting all pouty because some guy hits on you at an event he takes you to and now you have a 6 foot GIANT leaning all his weight over you as he whines about not getting attention

[ WOUNDED PRIDE ] GOJO SATORU.

“satoru, you’re still pouting,” you hum, poking his cheek as he huffs.

“‘m not,” gojo mumbles, bitterly turning his head away from you. you can hear geto’s amused chuckle from the distance, making your boyfriend growl out a shut up, suguru under his breath, and because you’re supportive, you hide your own laugh.

“baby, he’s gone,” you cup his cheeks, grinning as he stubbornly refuses to meet your eyes, “you don’t have to be jealous anymore.”

“jealous?” he pulls away from you like you’ve insulted him—like the idea is simply too crazy to hear out loud, “me? jealous? what gives you that idea?”

“toru,” you snort, “you couldn’t be anymore obvious.”

“neither could you,” he accuses, narrowing his eyes at you, “you were trying to make me mad.”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you say with faux innocence, making his arms cross.

and now his lips are even further jutted in a pout, though you know saying something will only make him more upset, so you choose to keep your mouth shut for now. but gojo can still sense your amusement, glaring at you before turning his head away with a petulant hmph.

“flirting with other men is considered cheating, you know.”

“i wasn’t flirting,” you giggle, “i was just making friends. like you told me to.”

“making friends doesn’t include zenin naoya,” gojo glares at you, prompting out a supportive yeah, he sucks from geto. gojo nods, pointing a thumb at geto in agreement, making you roll your eyes.

“you never told me you hated him,” you defend, “but i wasn’t trying to make you mad,” you add softly, cupping his cheeks again.

“yeah you were,” he mumbles bitterly. his cheeks are squeezed together by your palms, and his voice is slightly whiny—and suddenly, you think you fall in love all over again.

“i’m sorry, toru,” you smile gently, “i just thought you looked cute all pouty. i didn’t wanna make you mad.”

“i wasn’t pouting,” he grumbles, “i don’t pout. i’m a man.”

“you cry during movies,” geto points out—and you’re glad there’s no wine in your vicinity, otherwise you think gojo might splash it on his best friend’s crisp, white button down. and you don’t think his father would take kindly to the scene—which would only further complicate things.

“i’m a man with a heart,” gojo scowls, “that’s why i’m not single.”

“okay,” you break up the bickering, distracting gojo with a kiss to his cheek—he grins at the gesture, giving you one in return even though he’s still slightly upset with you (though he won’t admit it.)

satoru gojo is not a jealous man.

that’s what he’ll tell you, at least—but you know better. you can see it in the way his lips alternate back and forth from a tiny pout to an irritated scowl, in the way his eyebrows furrow with irritation, in the way he huffs and tries to act like he doesn’t care when suguru elbows him in amusement.

and it’s not as though you enjoy attention from…whoever it was you were talking to (apparently zenin naoya according to gojo), but there’s just a small part of you that’s lightly amused. gojo is like a magnet—the girls flock to him left and right like a slice of bread left out for the crows to fight for. you’re used to it by now, have learned to ignore the slight creep of doubt and simply ignore the jealous glares sent your way as you take his hand.

but that doesn’t mean you don’t enjoy the change of pace every once in a while—the rare turn of tables that have him irritated instead of you.

naoya is a little too entitled for your taste. there’s too much expensive cologne sprayed on and you’re sure if he could without seeming tacky, he’d have left the tag on his suit to show its brand new. that’s the case with all rich people, you think, too busy watering the roots to pull for the weeds.

you don’t particularly enjoy talking to him—but you amuse yourself all the same. he’s far too cocky when he asks are you an intern for the gojo’s? i haven’t seen you before—

and before you can answer, you hear a familiar voice spit: actually, they’re my date. you don’t even hear gojo come up behind you, and you know as soon as his arm wraps around your waist, your stuck to his side for the rest of the night whether you like it or not.

“don’t talk to naoya he sucks,” gojo mutters. you nod, agreeing with him to console the bitterly wounded pride he seems to be sporting.

“he’s the worst,” you agree, “and his cologne smells gross.”

“i have that cologne,” he gasps, “it’s my favorite. you hate it?”

“no,” you say quickly, “it smells nice on you. everything smells nice on you.” geto snorts, and you shoot him a warning glance before he can make the situation worse.

gojo doesn’t look convinced—eyes narrowed and lips curled in that soft pout of his when he doesn’t get his way. it’s a bit spoiled, just a little bratty in its own right, but makes you melt all the same, pinching his cheek gently as you chuckle.

“if i were you,” geto turns to you, “i’d talk to naoya more. it might humble satoru just a little—”

“if i were you, i’d shut up before getting punched—”

“you wouldn’t land a punch on me if you tried—”

“you don’t know that—”

“actually i do because you can’t fight for shit—”

“i’m an excellent fighter—”

“alright,” you hiss, glancing at the few heads that have turned to watch the bickering between gojo and geto, making you glare at them in slight embarrassment.

“baby,” gojo whines, “tell him i can fight.”

and because his ego has been wounded one too many times tonight, you let him slump onto you, ignoring the heavy weight as you sigh and wrap your arms around him. you’re sure quite a few people are staring by now—but you suppose people always stare when you date someone like gojo.

“you could totally fight naoya,” you agree. you think you’ve finally said something right—because he seems to brighten at your words.

“i could, couldn’t i?”

“yes,” you nod, “and you smell better. and you have better hair.”

“and i’m cuter.”

“of course,” you sigh, eyeing geto for help. but he grins, sends you a small wave with mischief in his expression as he wanders off—leaving you all alone to nurse gojo’s ego back to full health.

© hanmas do not plagiarize, repost, translate to other sites, or recommend on platforms outside tumblr such as tik tok

Here’s a few drabble ideas for you for my fav couple you wrote as of date aka shy reader x mafia!simon ft the most cliche tropes in fandom ever but I eat every single one of these up anyways 🥰🥰🥰

-patching him up when he finally comes home after god knows how many hours/days from god knows where, covered in the blood of other men and his own. Bonus if this happens for the first time and it confirms your suspicions about the true nature of his job he tries to shield you from. You don’t ask questions bc you’re just happy he’s home and safe in one piece, but at the same time you’re worried sick and fear that you’ll live to see a day he may not come back home to you (the potential for angst!! Love to see it tbh)

-cooking or baking something together, trying to follow a recipe and failing to follow through bc simon keeps distracting you throughout the whole process. Just seeing you being all domestic, cooking/baking for him, providing for him in that way, and just how much warmth and love you bring into his kitchen, his home. It feels so right. You belong here. You are that missing piece that completes him, makes his life whole

-and just to add a little ✨spice✨, you know those couples games right? W the dice and the cards that lead from one thing to the other😽👀. ShyReader gets one of those from a friend as sort of a gag to “spice up things and maybe finally get past 2nd base” (since it was established that she’s a virgin) and at first she’s unsure of how he’ll react to it, but then figures well maybe just go for it?? Initiates, only to discover halfway through that of course everything this man does is intense, devoted and all consuming including a silly fun lighthearted game she wanted to play and she feels she’s maybe bitten off more than she can chew 🫨🫠

"maybe finally get past 2nd base" DID OUR GIRL DIRTY (but it's true)

but that second one? about them baking together? i'm??? (it turned out to not be as sweet and more devious but ya know)

"simon?"

"hmm?"

"you aren't being helpful."

and really, he wasn't. you had been in the middle of baking bread when your boyfriend had returned home from the gym, and instead of hopping straight into the shower like he usually did, he decided to lean against the counter and watch you work. at first it was fine. you loved his company, and it was nice to be able to chat while you gathered your ingredients to bake. however, the moment you had gotten the dough started and ready to knead, he turned into a menace.

Simon stood behind you with his hands on your hips, gaze peering over your shoulder as you worked at the dough, but his hands didn't stay still for long. they began to wander along your waist, across your stomach, and even up towards your chest where he let his thumbs graze the underside of your breasts.

"'course i am," he retorted.

"no you're not."

as if to prove you right, his hands shamelessly covered your chest fully before he gave your tits a firm squeeze. heat rose to your face as if you were a mercury thermometer, and you groaned as you leaned your head against him.

"Simon," you whined.

"alright, alright," he chuckled as he finally left you alone.

he moved a few steps back before he wandered towards the hallway, seemingly having finally decided to shower the sweat and musk off of him. before he vanished around the corner, he leaned in the doorway with a content smirk on his face.

"by the way, i like your shirt," he said.

confused, you stopped kneading the dough for a moment to glance down at your shirt. two flour stains in the shape of Simon's hands marked right over your tits, leaving behind proof of the way your boyfriend had groped you moments before.

"Simon Riley you are not getting a single slice of this bread, you dog."

Dads Ring

This is Brock and sadly his dad passed away last week. The passing had definitely taken a toll on him but him and his dad were never really close. They were totally different people as Brock liked to hang with friends go to the gym etc.. His dad on the other hand was totally different he mostly just sat in his recliner chair all day and watched football while drinking beer. He definitely started to do that a lot more after Brock’s mom’s passing. His dad was old had a huge beer belly with a beard and very out of shape.

His passing was kind of a blessing though to Brock as he is now moving into his dad’s old house. Arriving at the house Brock is filled with tons of different memory’s some good and some bad. But he’s just glad to be there. Brock quickly tried to unpack his stuff as he didn’t have much. All of his dad’s old stuff was still there so he didn’t have to bring much in the first place. Brock gets all of his stuff sorted out and put awake nicely. All he has left is a few boxes that need to be put into the attic. Brock hauled all of the heavy boxes up to the dark attic, surprisingly that was his first time up there despite being there so much times. Brock having nothing better to do takes a look around opening old boxes.

Finding nothing interesting Brock is about to head down but something catches his eye. His dad’s ring, what the hell was this doing up here in the attic his dad is always wearing his ring Brock can’t seem to remember the last time he saw him with it off. That’s odd what is it doing up here in the attic though. Curious Brock picks up the ring and slides it on his finger. Huh a perfect fit Brock thinks to himself. Looking at the ring Brock decides to keep it on I means it’s a great fit and kind of even looks good on him like it was meant to be.

As soon as Brock put on the ring his stomach could not stop rumbling. Damn I guess that means it’s time for dinner he thinks to himself. Going down and looking into the fridge there not even a single piece of food as he hasn’t even had time to stalk his fridge yet. So Brock just decides to order pizza instead as it’ll just be easier. Normally when Brock gets pizza he just orders a medium pizza. But the rumbling in his stomach said that he wants more so Brock settles on a large pepperoni pizza a side of bread sticks a two bottles of beer. Now normally Brocks not a big beer drinker but something about it tonight sounded good to him. The food arrived shortly after and Brock could barely resist he sat down in his dad’s favorite recliner chair and turned on the foosball game for the night. Brock dove in eating slice after slice of pizza and cracking open his cans of beers there was no holding back for Brock. After what just felt like minutes Brock was already done and letting out a big burp. Brock looked down at his stomach. Damn he looked huge he thought to himself as after that big meal he was definitely bloated. Brock to tired to get up and head to his bed slowly reclines back into his dads chair and drifts asleep.

Waking up Brock felt tired and sluggish two things he almost never feels while getting up. Brock noticed he still has his father’s ring on Brock reaches to try to take it off but the ring won’t budge. It’s almost like it stuck. Brock doesn’t really mind though as he think the ring kinda looks good on him. Brock’s stomach rumbles again as it feels like the worst pain Brock has ever felt he’s starving. Brock rushes to his kitchen but barely finds any food. The only thing he manages to find is a pancake mixture. Brock throws the batter onto the stove cooking up almost a dozen pancakes maybe even more. Brock can’t even think straight he’s so hungry, he digs in not even giving himself time to chew. He’s on auto pilot mode just eating pancake after pancake he’s so focused Brock doesn’t even realize his stomach slowly start to expand out there punishing against his shirt. After he’s done he finally gives himself a chance to breathe. He’s got a lot of work to do today though as he needs to get busy. After hours of long hard work getting the house together Brock thinks he deserves some lunch and he doesn't hold back cooking up three hamburgers as he went to the store after breakfast. He chowed down on lunch finishing it in less then five minutes. Brock things he deserves a break so he grabs a beer from the fridge and goes to sit down in his dad’s recliner. Brock wakes up a little while later still in the recliner tv still on. Brock gets up to used the bathroom while in there something caches his eye it was his stomach it was pushed out a little bit making Brock look a little chubby.

He brushes it aside as it’ll probably just disappear in the morning he thinks. Brock walks over to his bedroom and plops himself down onto his bed. Brock thinks it’s a little weird sleeping in his dad’s bed but doesn’t really mind that much the only annoying part about it is a huge indent in the mattress from where his dad used to sleep. Brock quickly asleep.

Waking up in the he hasn’t even realized how big he’s gotten. Damn I really need to cut back on the food he thinks to himself while getting dressed. Brock struggles to get his belt buckled as his stomach was in the way. Even though Brock knows he shouldn’t eat he can’t resist he’s starving. Brock rushes into the kitchen feeling like if he doesn’t eat something this instant he’s not gonna make it. Brock throws some bacon on the grill and heats up three big cinnamon rolls. Shortly after they were done and Brock plops himself down to eat them. Damn these cinnamon rolls are dry he thinks, he needs something to wash them down. Oh a nice glass of beer would be perfect for that he thinks. Brock is about dig in but his shirt feels really tight for some reason and not thinking much of it he slips it off and digs in. Bite after bite Brock just keeps getting fatter and fatter almost to the point where the bottom on his jeans is about to burst. One more bite could do the trick and so it did the bottom burst off flying across the room and Brocks beach ball belly rested on his legs. Brock panicked stands up and jiggles his belly watching it bounce in the process.

Damn he looks huge Brock’s thinks to himself. He needs to stop eating but no matter what he does he can’t. Also his dad’s stupid ring won’t come off his finger, speaking of dad Brock’s starting to look a lot like him really taking after his pops living in his legacy. No that’s not what he wants though Brock wants to look young I mean what are his friends gonna think of his gut. Brock brushes it all aside i’m not becoming my dad am I no that can’t be right I hated my old man. Brock pauses and looks down at his gut damn the six pack that he worked so hard for where has it gone same with his pecs now two moobs rest atop his stomach. And his nice pair of jeans ripped speaking of new clothes he needs a new pair. Looking around he can’t seem to find anything that’ll fit his new size. Looking in his dad’s room he finds tho perfect solution. His dad’s old clothes I mean no one else is going to wear them so might as well. Brock slips on a pair of his dad’s old jeans and a shirt. Both of the clothes feel a little big on Brock which is good he’s just glad to feel something that fits him.

The day went by in a flash and Brock found himself sitting on his dad’s recliner. I can’t do it he says as he gets up to kitchen opens the fridge and grabs two cans a beer and sits back down in his chair. Now that’s better he thinks to himself as he cracks open the first can. Brock chuckles and gives his beard a good rub. Wait beard Brock doesn’t have a beard, he jumps up out of his seat and runs to the nearest mirror. Oh my god there it is a thick beard resting right on his face what the hell is happening he doesn’t have a beard he doesn’t even really have any facial hair. Brock couldn’t take the stress and plops is butt back down to watch some football and drink his second can of beer. Brock didn’t even notice his stomach start to expand right in front of his eyes it started to push against the shirt and his legs started getting bigger and bigger thicker hair started to form on his body and even his beard was getting a little bigger. Brock rest his hands on his stomach not even realizing it pushing farther out, becoming huge. Brock worn out from all the work and growing he'd done today he headed to his bedroom. Sitting down on his bed getting a good look at himself damn he’s gotten fat what had happened did he really let himself go that hard.

Brock rolls over onto the indent in his bed almost fitting it perfectly. Waking up in the morning he struggles to sit up from all the extra weight put on him. This stupid ring, get the hell of my finger. The ring wouldn’t budge Brock’s fingers were far too chubby now for the ring to slide off. Brock makes a huge grunt trying to sit up barely being able to do it. He lets out a sign of relief as he’s already out of breath. Brock walks over to his dad’s closet and slips on some of his clothes still feeling tight on him. And waddles over in the kitchen for breakfast. Brock looks in the pantry finding a box of a dozen donuts that he had picked up yesterday. Brock hardly couldn’t wait sitting down at the. kitchen table and digging in bite after bite he was devouring those donuts. Brock was so concentrated in eating he didn’t even realize his beard start to grow bigger and bigger and becoming more of a salt and pepper color. And is belly starting to grow even more. Brock finished with his dozen donuts licks every finger one by one letting out a huge burp in the process. Waddling to the bathroom to release the hound he takes a look at himself in the mirror. Damn him and his dad could be twins, darn it he even looked a bit fatter then his old man himself. Brock takes one good look at the ring on his finger and gives his gut a good pat. I think I can enjoy this way of life Brock says as he walks to the kitchen to grab another beer.

Silly Squad Alignment Charts

Because I thought it would be fun and silly :)

Find out more about the Silly Squad here!

Of course, have to start with the classic:

Hunter will say they have food at home and it's literally like probably two slices of bread, a bottle of ketchup, and a head of lettuce

Viram KNOWS how to cook so you best be happy to eat her food instead of having Mcdonalds

Khea and Echo it depends on their mood whether they pull up and order a single black coffee before leaving (Echo would never do it if Omega is in the car)

Crosshair doesn't even like their coffee but he does it to be a little shit

Feel like Tech is also kinda in the middle because he'll be like "Technically we have food at home-" but he also needs his caffeine

Phee will ALWAYS pull up to the Mcdonalds, especially when Omega's with her. Then Omega always holds it over Hunter- "Well, PHEE takes ME to Mcdonalds!"

Tay is the definition of a bastard (no seriously)

Phee is bastard (affectionate) but would technically be more of "Badass" than anything

Khea, Crosshair, and Tech are the Bitch Trio and if you put them in a room together they WILL tear each other apart (emotionally most likely but Tech will goad Crosshair and Khea into physically fighting each other while he records)

Majority of the squad is Babey though

Echo is also "Bad Ass" but he could also be a Bitch if he wanted

Hunter is Bastard just because I think it's funny

Dumb Bitch Hunter my beloved <3

Echo is sad dick because he has no dick

I use dumb affectionately with Wrecker (not with Hunter and Tay)

Tech just has big dick energy to me idk

Khea's a sad hoe but she'll never admit to it (the being sad part)

If you've noticed, I really like making fun of Hunter that's why he's there in the dumbass squared category

Wrecker, Khea, and Phee are all smart as fuck but have more fun pretending that they aren't really

Tay is good at pretending that he is smart - he is not

Then of course, Tech, Cross, and Echo are all smartasses

This fit so perfectly I was dying

Hunter is laughing nervously because he's aroace lmao

Omega would be like "Thanks! :D" and just carry on

Jung would most likely do *thumbs up* instead of finger guns though

When you pair up the couples, it's funnier

If Tay said "I know" after Cross told him that he loved him, Crosshair would dump him on the spot

Khea tells Wrecker she loves him for the first time and he short circuits and probably would say something along the lines of "YEET!"

Viram and Echo both have issues and would not be able to comprehend why someone would love them - I'm sure Echo's got insecurities and Viram knows she's a workaholic and therefore difficult to be in a relationship so she apologies in advance

If Phee told Tech she loved him and he went "a horrible decision, really" she'd probably laugh

And of course, who doesn't love Phee? If you don't, get out of here.

Crosshair could care less, he ain't dealing with that shit

Tech would say this ominously as if he's seen the future and knows your death is imminent meanwhile Khea's is more of a - "you probably will because everyone close to me has already died" sort of way :/

I feel like Omega might also be "i'd die for you first" too

Hunter, Viram, and Echo don't want to deal with that shit either, they've already got so much loss, guilt, and other things on their plate

Tay's probably not listening when someone tells him they'd die for him while Phee's like, "Oh, neat. Anyways, as I was saying about my last adventure-"

Jung is ready and willing to put his life on the line and Wrecker would probably more like a "Nu uh" because he's got your back and would look out for you

Phee will also do it for some credits or a cool treasure

Tay is going to fight god (and he's going to lose)

Tech could do so much more than take down the government, but he needs incentives (him and Phee can take down the government together <3)

Khea is a bounty hunter, her job literally requires her to stab people sometimes in order for her to get money

Crosshair would stab without anyone needing to ask him

Echo's taking down the government no matter what, but especially if Rex asks him to come along

Jung is going to fight god if you ask them to (and he'll win)

Viram is the type of friend who is an excellent tutor and you end up understanding the concept after getting her help meanwhile Omega will explain what she knows and then the homework becomes a group project of figuring out what the fuck it's asking

You can copy Hunter's homework but there is no guarantee that the answers are right (most of them are wrong)

You can copy Jung's homework and there's a high chance the answers are right

Khea had better things to do than homework - like get frustrated over it and cry for a bit before giving up on it

Phee did some of the homework but she'll only help you out if you give her something in exchange

Wrecker and Tay, beloved himbos, they had no idea and even if they did do the homework, you wouldn't want to copy off of them

Crosshair also didn't do the homework but he also doesn't want to respond

Tech and Echo both did the homework and it's correct but they don't tolerate copying work to even have suggested it is offensive so now you're left on read

Why don't you just... Eat rice? Why bread?

It's a lot harder to turn on the rice cooker at 3am and wait half an hour for rice to cook than it is to just put two pieces of bread in the toaster.

I just had rice for lunch. And I had rice pasta for lunch and dinner the last two days. And I had rice for dinner-lunch-dinner last friday to saturday. And I had potato salad for lunch on friday.

The thing is that it gets a bit monotonous, and sometimes you maybe want some buttered bread to go with your pasta dish and sometimes you maybe just want bread.

Like, there are a lot of hacks out there for what to do when you can't eat bread. "make your sandwiches on rice cakes!!!!" "make a lettuce wrap!!!!!" "make a salad instead of a sandwich!!!!!!" "hollow out a cucumber and put your filling inside of it!!!!!" but also all those hacks kind of suck.

When I was a kid there was a tea parlor we used to go to that had this curry chicken salad with golden raisins and chopped onions and almonds. I made some to share with my dad while he was in town. The tea parlor used to serve it on warm croissants and it was wonderful. It is literally impossible to make gluten-free croissants (the dough won't be elastic enough to laminate properly) so I was hoping to just have some chicken salad on sandwich bread. And yeah it's fine to eat by itself and I mean okay I had it with potato chips but I didn't want chicken salad on potato chips (or rice), I wanted a chicken salad sandwich.

I can eat (certified gluten free) oatmeal and rice and rice pasta and potatoes and stuff but all of that takes a lot more time than putting some cream cheese and lemon curd on a gluten free bagel and also it's not my go-to so it took me a while to recognize that I was starting to get the low-carb brain fog.

But also because rice does not enable my depraved regency habits. Sometimes I want to eat off of a paper towel in my car, not out of a bowl, you know?

It's also super depressing to be locked out of your staple foods and the foods you grew up with. Last night Large Bastard had a grilled cheese with tomato soup for dinner. I had pasta. I've got a big jar of peanut butter that *yes* i can eat with yogurt and bananas and *yes* I can put into oatmeal (and I do those things pretty regularly) but it doesn't do me much good if I want to pack a couple PB&J sandwiches for a hike.

But also it's a bummer because I already did this. I already learned the discreet way to bring food I can eat to family events or what I can eat ahead of time that means I won't get hungry or which places I can go after an event to quickly get something to eat. Convenience food is convenient! Do you know what it's like to go backpacking when you can't eat any of the standard backpacking food? It's homemade trail mix for days, but I did also like to pack a single serving of spam and two slices of bread. If I go to a conference it's extremely standard for me to pack two loaves of bread that I can eat and a jar of peanut butter and a jar of jam so that there will be *something* in the room that I can eat quickly or pack quickly and carry with me. Bread is the easiest way to ensure that I don't end up living off mostly fruit and kind bars if I'm going out.

Hell, I used to bring my bread along to in-n-out because both the flying dutchman and the protein-style lettuce wrap are SIGNIFICANTLY INFERIOR to just using actual bread. (Lettuce wraps suck. I've been eating them for years and I'm ready to call it. Lettuce wraps are how you make a hamburger instantly cold and get it to taste vaguely like dirt. Could I eat lettuce-wrap tacos? Yes. Do I want 'the poor person's endive boat but put carne asada in it'? No. If I wanted something wrapped in leaves I would get dolmas like a reasonable person because at least those are soaked in oil)

And at this point I would prefer to have a proven gluten-free bread recipe that I can make reliably and that does not suck, but the last few times I've tried to make g-free bread (like, a loaf of bread, not flatbread or bannock or quickbreads) it has not gone well and I would *love* to experiment but at the moment my oven isn't getting hotter than 250fah so it's not really bread-capable at the moment. I have some recipes I'd like to try, but they will require a functional oven.

I know *how* to get enough carbs without bread, it just requires forethought and planning and I don't want forethought and planning, I don't want to get up an hour early to make good oatmeal, I want some cocoa almond spread on a piece of toast.

Also trader joe's recently discontinued the macaroni and cheese that I used to get and the version that Aldi has sucks and is more expensive and the version that Annie's has doesn't *suck* but isn't what I want and is MUCH more expensive and of course I can make macaroni (or, let's be real, penne or rotini because finding rice-only macaroni is a fucking chore) and cheese but it takes literal hours and also requires an oven.

IDK bud you caught me at a bad time because I'm extremely sad that the gluten-free diet fad is passing and that my local grocery stores got rid of their gluten-free sections in the past year and the foods that I was eating are getting discontinued or are out of stock and the thought of having to become an extremely good baker (because good gluten-free bread is HARD) or just eat rice forever is a downer. I already cook so, so much of the food that I eat from scratch that I don't want to do more hours of cooking each week - I spend probably six hours baking or cooking on on saturdays and sundays and then another one to two hours cooking on weeknights and you may recognize that as approximately equivalent to a part-time job *just to keep myself fed on a reasonable budget, and it obviously isn't all that reasonable a budget if I'm spending ten to twenty hours a week on it* and the thought of doing more of that because there's a shortage of corn-free baking powder or something is the kind of invisible disability burden that goes tremendously under-discussed and kind of makes me insane.

I mean fuck if we want to talk about the social model of disability accessible food options for people with allergies and autoimmune conditions is a great example that never gets brought up and it is really difficult to emphasize that "trader joe's $5 rice bread" versus "udi's $10 equivalent rice bread" versus "2-3 additional baking hours a week" versus "just change your go-to quick meals and accept that you eat hamburgers with a fork" has a lot of possible outcomes that reduce my quality of life.

And that sounds stupid to say. "A company stopped carrying a product and it reduced my quality of life."

But first off it's not one company and not one product and when it's not just "white sandwich bread" but it's "white sandwich bread, macaroni and cheese, frozen empanadas, chocolate chip cookies, lasagna noodles, rice cereal, sorgum beer, rice rotini, canned chicken, ginger cookies, almond flour muffins, split pea soup, vegetarian chili, mushroom risotto" and on and on it gets exhausting and depressing and losing access to a significant number of convenience food and easy meals DOES fuck with your quality of life.

You know what my easy "I'm tired because we're moving and I'm broke so I can't go buy fresh groceries" meal was for the last three years? Scrambled eggs and toast.

Until the last two months I probably had scrambled eggs and toast once or twice a week since the pandemic started.

You know what's not as easy as that? Any rice dish. You know what it got replaced with? Cereal. Or nothing.

I know that having chocolate rice crisps (or nothing) for dinner once a week isn't actually ideal. That's part of why I spend eight to twelve hours cooking on weekends - so I'll have a big vat of rice or potato based soup that I can have leftovers of for lunch through the week and probably get dinner out of for a couple nights too.

But sometimes you're a little tired of the chicken and rice soup that you are eating for nine meals out of twenty one and it would be nice to have some scrambled eggs and toast.

So, basically, the bread is load-bearing in terms of making me a quasi-functional human being and it isn't going to break me and I'm going to be able to put something else there to shore up the deficit but I am going to complain the whole time.

Hi Gerec! Do you have any fics rec where Erik fell in love with Charles at first sight? I just love reading Erik being absolute whipped for Charles.

Hi Anon! Here are a few of my favourites where they fall in love (or in lust!) at first sight. Hope you enjoy :D

Scenes from the Wild by nekosmuse

Erik Lehnsherr, world renowned wilderness survivalist, alongside his husband, Charles Xavier, survive the perils of the wild in order to bring you, Two Men, One Knife, an award winning reality survival series, available only on the Discovery Channel. Follow Erik and Charles as they travel to the world's most remote locations with only the most basic of supplies. Pitted against nature, this husband-husband team struggle to survive in some of the world's harshest climates while battling the planet's fiercest predators. Can they survive the Canadian North? Find out next season, on Two Men, One Knife

Note: Chapter 2 covers their first meeting :D

Other Life Challenges by professor (series)

“Why am I here again?” Erik groans.

“I need you to lift things and glower at people over my shoulder when I tell people that it’s not ‘politically correct’ or a ‘war on Christmas’ to have a non-denominational winter holiday festival,” says Theresa Pryde.

Well, at least those are two things he’s good at.

Trying to create the next world war by aesc

The voice's owner is a young man, maybe a handful of years younger than Erik, with the earnest expression worn by a boy who's never grown up. He's very correctly academic in a dark waistcoat and collared shirt, although the collar is very incorrectly unbuttoned to display a hint of throat – enough, Erik decides, to want to lick. [Or, the one inspired by this moment-inducing gifset, where for some reason Erik's decided to work for the CIA as a means to an end and gets sent to England instead of Moira.]

645 Riverside Drive by smilebackwards

Azazel clearly has yet to understand the shattering power of Charles' disappointment, so Erik takes one for the team, grabbing the cup and downing the remnants of the cappuccino like a shot while Azazel watches with morbid fascination.

Humane Society by smilebackwards

Once Erik finally allows himself to decide that Charles is pretty much the best thing since sliced bread, he spends the next week being incredibly bitter that he's Charles' cat and not his boyfriend.

An Unexpected Muse by RedStockings

Erik is an artist who is obsessed with the young man he by chance bumped into six months ago. Charles is the long-suffering brother being dragged to an art exhibition by Raven. There he spots the man he has been dreaming about for six long months and realises that he had been noticed after all.

Walling in or Walling Out by stlkrchck

Erik stifles a sigh. Of course this is Mr. C. F. Xavier. Of course.

For the prompt: Charles and Raven are throwing a holiday party. Erik is the grumpy neighbor who is annoyed by how loud they are being. So he goes to complain, and Charles makes it up to him.

Protect, Serve, Troll by keire_ke

Erik's fire department has a special relationship with the local university. They visit often. Sometimes, there even is a fire.

Immovable Object Meets Irresistible Force by ximeria

Erik is woefully unprepared for Raven's brother, who returns to the States for her 25th birthday party.

soul of my soul by ikeracity

You can imprint on your soulmate anywhere — school, work, on the street, in a restaurant, on the subway.

Charles and Erik imprint on each other just in time for the holidays.

Some Things Are Meant To Be by ikeracity

Erik is a famous singer. Charles is a closeted fan. When Raven drags him to Erik's concert, the last thing Charles expects is for Erik to single him out of the crowd, for Erik to look right at him as he sings. And the last, last thing he expects is for Erik to personally serenade him and pull him on stage and kiss him senseless, because some things are meant to be and Erik knows it.

Crosswalk by velvetcadence

Erik accidentally French dips a perfect stranger in public. Things go as you might expect it to.

Meet Cute by lachatblanche

Erik never expected to meet his soulmate in a public toilet.

Forelsket by melonbutterfly

Erik doesn't usually react to people like that, no matter how attractive they are, and Lord knows how many incredibly attractive people he's met. And anyway, even if he is attracted to someone, it doesn't… overcome him like this, never.

Defy the Stars by SomeCoolName

Charles can’t sleep that warm night in New York when he decides to get some fresh hair on his balcony. It appears he’s not the only one who can’t sleep as he meets one of his neighbors, smoking on his balcony from the building across Charles’. They meet again in the elevator a few days later and the neighbor, Erik, is not only incredibly beautiful but also charming and funny. But Charles is in a relationship with Scott and Erik is hiding something, so it’s best if they just stay neighbors.

Too bad it was love at first sight.

To Life by professor

Erik wants a Jewish wedding.

sashisu dynamics with you ☆

𓃠 › gojo

his overbearing nature led to your relationship with him being twisted to competitive love from the very beginning. you didn't understand how getou and shoko could put up with his condescending smirk, eyes looking down at you with a permanent sneer, the ease in which he could click his fingers and the enemies around you would drop dead, his face when he waits for you to beat that, or better yet, to praise him

"yeah whatever, good job, gojo."

"can you say that again? i didn't start recording yet."

competitions upon competitions, every small thing becomes a heated battle. who can get up earlier, who can throw a slice of bread into the toaster from behind this line, who can get shoko to smile first, who can steal getou's pen without getting caught, who can draw on yaga's face without getting detention, who can hit double-digit completed missions in one day, race you to the classroom!

but despite the insults you both exchange, you find yourself comfortably depending on him when the time calls, and vice versa. bodies thrown into a dance upon a battlefield, backs to one another holding down the forte with only trust communicated behind closed mouths.

and when the loss of a friend haunts closed eyes, you find yourself in gojo's rare silence, drinking in the moonlight and the what if's. he'll let you in without a word, without a single utterance of confirmation, simply letting you cry out your broken heart in his finite embrace

𓃠 › getou

you could be fooled by his nonchalant attitude and carefree posture, thinking him first to be a rather distant friend but discovering later that he was the most observant of the trio. whether it be the casual drop of your favourite movie or the mention of a pet, getou seems to remember every small detail. he'll be the first to offer you his jacket when the slightest shiver overcomes you, but also the first to tease you when tears fill your lashline during a sad movie

which is most likely why you and him were in charge of every birthday party, taking small dates to your local supermarket and picking apart every purchase, finding fun behind halloween masks and easter bunny headbands. sometimes, you'll find yourselves thrown out of the shop despite getou's attempts to woo the manager. eventually though, they'll fall for his caring charm like they all do, whilst you roll your eyes at his facade

"getou, i'm dead."

"put that skeleton back before we get kicked out again."

watching a cruel smile take over getou's face, you're unnerved at how unlike himself he seemed. no wait, perhaps you should be more concerned at how your dead friend was standing before you now, patient like how you knew him, but painted in unfamiliarity with the blood of friends. he doesn't immediately find himself at your side when his eyes search your figure and find the gaping wound at your hip, he wasn't there to cover you when curses had leapt at your vulnerable stance, no, instead he was the perpetrator

this wasn't the getou you knew

𓃠 › shoko

with your dorms right next to each other, its easy for you both to sneak into each other's rooms. muffled giggles behind trembling palms, walking on your toes, fearing the creak of wooden boards or the clatter of slamming doors. bated breaths lay dormant in your mouths and sometimes when your eyes catch in the filtering moonlight, they'll release in giggles

on the days you return from missions early, and the silence of the corridors feed the brewing uncertainties in your stomach, you'll find purchase in her room, comfort in the familiarity of cigarette smoke and fresh laundry. when she finds you curled up in her bed, it isn’t the words of disgust that leaves her mouth and instead, she simply asks if you want to watch a horror movie

it’s therapeutic, screaming away your worries in darkness, her face, usually expressionless now alit with mild fear and the glow from the screen, just enough to ground you in the present. the feeling of her hand in yours, holding on like she’s your lifeline, though she never gives up the opportunity to keep you on the edge. 

“... BOO!”

“shoko, what the fuck?” 

and when the sun rolls over to kiss the skies, you’ll realise you spent another sleepless night in shoko’s room. while you trudge to class, the lack of sleep catching up, shoko will appear as functional and sane as ever. she may watch and snicker, joining in on the teasing, but she’ll help keep you awake by picking up a pen and doodling on your arm, sometimes silly caricatures of gojo and getou, or outlandish comics and other shenanigans that’ll cause you to accidentally laugh out loud, and land you both in detention. but by then, your nighttime terrors will seem like only a blurry memory 

ℭ𝔞𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔞

note: I've decided to cross-post it on AO3, so you can find it there under the same name ;3

not proofread huhu

warnings: light cursing, reader panics

previous chapters: Introduction Chapter 1

Chapter 2: Survival Instinct

In any other situation you would even joke about Aether being way kinkier than you initially expected with all this sword-play that was going on… but the stern look that he was currently giving you made you reconsider resorting to humor.

Jokes aside, the idea of you having your throat sliced as a toast bread didn’t look very appealing. In all honesty, it was actually terrifying.

But why would Aether, the main protagonist that rushes to help basically any NPC you could meet in Teyvat whether they ask him to bring over a few apples or to clean the dirt near the Barbatos’s cathedral, hold you at a.. sword point? It just didn’t make sense. And in your dream all of the sudden? Was it quickly becoming a nightmare?

You were not much of a fighter, because why would a modern person leaving in the 21st century have a reason to become familiar with sword fighting styles?  And, honestly, even if you did know some basics, you had a sneaky suspicion that if you tried to fight him, you would have been fucked either way, albeit he was the protagonist in all its glory. So, mustering all of the diplomatic skills you had, you have finally voiced your indeed very eloquently worded reaction:

   - Aether, I do not know what has gotten into you, buddy, but I swear: I am not a threat and I would never harm you!

Was it an argument worth to go done in history of debate clubs’ best quotes of the year? No. Best argument of a month? Also no, but that was not the point! It should have been a decent conversation starter and that was precisely what mattered to you at the moment.

Yet, your words seemed to fall deaf on his ears as he hadn’t moved a single muscle in response.

And that was the moment it hit you. 

Did he even understand you? Earlier you were not able to decipher what Paimon was telling him, so does it mean that he just didn’t know the language that you were speaking? And how were you supposed to communicate now?! The stress was starting to overwhelm you at this point and his gaze paired with the sword right at your throat were not helping one bit. Well, the plan failed. So you squeezed your eyes shut, ready for your fate to come at you right then and there.

Worst case scenario – you would wake up in your warm bed, unharmed and slightly shaken from this meet up… Right?... Suddenly you were not so sure about that anymore.

***

You were.. a strange one.

Sitting on a rock Aether was reminiscing about the times he spent alongside with Lumine, his twin sister, when all of a sudden a bright flash lit up the beach. Cautiously, warning Paimon to stay on her guard, the man decided to approach the spot where was now laying something that vaguely resembled a body.

The person was sleeping peacefully, absolutely unaware of their surroundings. Glancing at the stranger, Aether came up with several conclusions: a) judging by the physical condition of their body, said person was clearly not a warrior; and b) judging by their appearance neither were they from Teyvat.

And the latter thought was enough for him to visibly tense. Who were you? Where did you come from? What were your intentions? Were you a visitor just like him? Or did you happen to follow him and his sister with ill intentions? At that he decided that the most reasonable solution would be to simply wait until you wake up, watching from the sidelines.

During the slime fiasco Aether has mentally expanded his list of conclusions: you seemed to not be able to speak or to understand Teyvatian and couldn’t (or didn’t want to, perhaps?) fight of the most primitive creature, opting to run in his direction instead. Being in his head he almost missed what you said after he was done with the hydro slime.

“ Ffght ghjfo fhjffj fht hhkkll Aether!”

Aether

The sword was in his hand in an instant.

***

Hands up in "I surrender, please don't kill me" position you have finally opened your eyes after a few minutes of nothingness.

1) You were still in your stupid dream that was starting to get on your nerves

and 2) You were very thankful that the blonde guy has seemingly decided that holding you hostage was a no-no, however, he was now looking at you expectantly.

You mentally cursed yourself for skipping all of the sign language classes your college provided and decided that the best thing you could muster at that moment were… charades.

Pointing at yourself and then at him you tried to replicate the handshake movement with both of your hands. Was it awkward? Yep. Did you have a choice? No. However the blonde seemed to understand what you meant.

In return, he pointed at you, then on himself saying a single word ‘Aether’.

Oh.

OOOH.

Suddenly everything seemed to have fallen into place for you. Of course he hasn’t introduced himself and you happened to address him by his name. No shit he got suspicious. He was yet to become the known Traveler in Teyvat. Bloody brilliant, mate, you have truly outdone yourself this time.

But why would it matter for a character in your dream? Or… what if it was not a dream? Yeah, well, no.

No.

Looking around you could feel the gentle breeze, hear the soothing sound of waves. Your ankle still stung in the place where the hydro slime attacked you. You could feel the coldness from the steel of a blade when it was at your throat. Paimon and Aether were speaking in a language you didn’t understand.

You could feel the gentle breeze, hear the soothing sound of waves. Your ankle still stung in the place where the hydro slime attacked you. You could feel the coldness from the steel of a blade when it was at your throat. Paimon and Aether were speaking in a language you didn’t understand.

Impossible.

Out of the question.

Just, no.

You were not dreaming of Genshin Impact, you were in Genshin Impact. And by the looks of it you were right at the beginning.  

Dvalin… the Rite od Descension.. Baal.. all the shit that was about to go down in Sumeru. No.

Entertaining the idea of visiting a game universe for a day, was very compelling. But the key words here are “visiting” and “for a day” not “experiencing” and “for God knows how long”.

How do you go back? Can you go back? How long will you be stuck here? What about your loved ones? Would they forget about you? Would they be searching for you? Would they need to hold a funeral… No, just.. No. It would break their hearts. And what if something happens to them while you are gone? And you will never know about it? Who is going to take care of them? And what about your sweet pet? What will happen to them? What about your job? Are you going to be fired? What about your taxes? Your rent? What will happen to your furniture, to your belongings?..

And all of a sudden, settling on a ground, you were breaking apart.

Survive. You would need to survive. No matter what. You would find a way back home. No “if”s and no “buts”. And, yet, being alongside the main protagonist reduced your chances of survival by approximately 99%.

So what were you going to do? You could probably lay low in Mondstadt as you were sure that you could find a job they wouldn’t require any communication on your part, you could even try asking for help from the Knights of Favonius when you have learnt the basics of a language, probably..  

But right now, the best course of action would be getting away from Aether who was already cursed with the “main character” trope.

Shakily getting up from a ground you noticed that the blonde, as well as Paimon, seemed a bit worried about your state. Reasonably, neither of them chose to intervene with your personal Mental Spiral Abyss, but, by the looks of it, they did understand that you have probably had your own realization about this ordeal.

Thumbs up on your part would reassure them enough, right?

Waving your hand at them, you decided to go in the opposite direction, hoping that they would follow the plot. It seemed that they should be heading towards the statue of Anemo Archon?

However, your plans were never destined to come true.

The moment you and Aether turned your backs on each other, several events happened all at once: a bright flash lit up the deserted beach while something yanked you and Aether back to the place that you've just left. Crouching down from the back pain that followed the unexpected landing on the sand, you noticed that your right arm had somehow become.. heavier?

Your gaze dropped to your wrist, which was now decorated with a huge, golden chain. The opposite end of was connected to Aether’s wrist, who also looked absolutely dumbfounded at this new acquisition.

In a blink of an eye the chain connecting your wrists disappeared as quickly as it appeared before.

    - What have you done to me?! , - Aether was justifiably furious. But, buddy, you too were not in the mood to talk right now.

    - Well, you get the same question in return, Golden Boy! I have no idea, you are the one who was travelling through millions of universes before, not me!

    - Sorry to interrupt both of you, but Paimon doesn’t get it: how are you suddenly able to talk to  each other?

and here comes one of the Twists ( ` ω ´ )

I never really understood why the protagonist would suddenly voluntarily drag along a stranger, and how a person who finds themselves in another reality could calmly realize that they may never return home again? so, being the genius that I am, I have solved this issue by.. chaining our heroes to each other

when will I post the next chapter?.. consistency? who is she

so my white co-worker was complaining about her (community college) field trip last weekend:

for lunch, her school had catered from a Thai restaurant. usually, if a university/school/workplace was covering pack lunches, they'd do sandwiches from Panera, or pasta from Olive Garden, or maaaybe burritos from Chipotle.

Her: I didn't even know the difference between the offered options. I ended up grabbing this weird, peanut-buttery, spicy noodle dish.

this was the most foreign she'd ever ventured with her food. i pointed out that her lunch didn't sound weird to me in the least, and she responded;

Her: So you'd intentionally serve foreign food to a bunch of people, not knowing if they'd like it or not, and it'd be their fault if they happened to find it weird or gross?

me, who grew up eating my homeland's food at home, and then American 'foreign food' every day at school? me, who mostly made friends with other Asian kids, so their parents fed me Vietnamese/Laotian/Burmese/Chinese/Sakha/Turkish food whenever i played over? me, who grew up in an international graduate student housing complex, so potlucks and gifts and Halloween and birthdays were a toss-up between Indian, Trinidadian, Ivorian, Russian, Ashkenazi Jewish, Norwegian, etc and so forth?

i told her that the majority of Americans are very much used to eating food from multiple cultures, especially us younger generations. we grew up eating from multiple cultures every single day, staring blankly every time someone told us that mac-and-cheese is a 'universally loved dish'.

it's fine to have food preferences. like, i personally hate asparagus and pineapple, and i prefer dry thin rice over the wetter, short-grain ones.

but never have i considered any deviation from my cultural cuisine be a huge undertaking. so what that a catered lunch was pad thai instead of turkey sandwiches? so what you came over to someone's house and they dare serve you pig ears instead of meatloaf? so what it's Japanese buckwheat noodles instead of spaghetti? so what you're handed a bowl of rice instead of a slice of bread?

and it's fine if that'd be a huge culinary leap for you. but don't try to convince me that it's humanity's "normal" to expect only (these) cuisines and not (those) at any given time.

(and don't get me started on how many times i'd recommend the mango-dragonfruit refresher to customers, only to be given an awkward smile and a "no thanks, i've never tried mango or dragonfruit".)

I used to work at a deli when I was younger and I feel like people might not know some of these takeaways so there's a list of strong opinions from a girl with quality meat.

Cutting lunchmeat thinner makes it harder to pull apart, but also increases surface area which makes for a "fuller" sandwich. You're still getting the same amount of meat but the flavor and texture is improved by this.

Cheese is the same, but is much harder to keep from sticking together or falling apart

The secret is to make sure the slicer is sharpened and cleaned regularly, slice SLOWLY, and rotate the block every 4 or 5 slices, then gently lay the cheese down.

Its a pain in the balls and can be annoying for the person slicing so be sure to appreciate them appropriately if you're like me and like stuff super thin.

Different cuts work for different sandwiches. Thick slices are better for frying. Thin is good for like cheese and crackers. Shaved is best for sandwiches but make sure you don't squish the bag.

For cheese, brands actually kind of matter because some cheeses use more cream while others use more oil.

This is especially true for American cheese. Please I am begging you just try the Clearfield or Land of Lakes cheese that they actually slice instead of assuming Kraft singles are all American cheese is it is so much better.

That said, more "oil based" cheese melt faster

Some delis let you call in your order ahead of time. For bigger orders especially I highly recommend this.

A pound of roast beef can be expensive but can make an easy meal for 4 with some long rolls, cheese, and beef bouillon. Just boil some beef bouillon til it to make a simple au jus and throw in the roast beef. Put it on the roll with some cheese and you're done.

You can do the same thing with sliced turkey and a can of gravy.

As a rule of thumb - local delis usually have better quality than grocery store delis OR they're cheaper. Sometimes you luck out and both are true. Shop around.

Seriously, call in your order especially if you like to get stuff shaved. Call before you leave or even tell them a time to expect you.

Another rule of thumb I have is that I will take good cheese over good bread, and good bread over good meat.

A little bit of vegetable oil, salt, pepper, and oregano all on the roll will make your sandwich amazing without making it too soggy.

Ham or bologna cut in 1/4 inch thick slices are perfect for frying. Add egg and cheese to the ham for a decent breakfast sandwich. If you're in the Jersey area this is how thick your pork roll should be too.

If a sale is going on, buy in bulk. Most lunchmeat can be frozen especially if you're using it for hot sandwiches

Remember, you should be nice, but if they won't cut to your specifications, you don't have to buy from them. You can stand up for yourself without being a dick.

I think that's all but I'll add more if i think of any. Thanks for reading!

DANIEL DAE KIM: BEACON OF FIRE

Daniel Dae Kim, a paragon of versatility in the entertainment industry, continues to enchant audiences with his rich and compelling character portrayals. Esteemed for his significant roles in landmark television series such as Lost and Hawaii Five-0, Kim has also made waves with his reflective insights on the finale of the Good Doctor, where he served not only as an actor but as an executive producer. As speculation mounts about his character's return in the show's concluding season, Kim's artistic reach extends further with his riveting performance as fire lord Ozai in the much-anticipated live-action adaptation of Netflix’s Avatar: The Last Airbender. In addition to his work on screen, Daniel Dae Kim's return to Broadway in the production of Yellow Face by David Henry Hwang is a venture into the comedic genre, offering a fresh perspective on relevant cultural themes with a timeless appeal. 

In the heart of Hollywood's ever-changing landscape, Daniel Dae Kim stands out not just as an actor and producer but as a visionary leader dedicated to reshaping the narrative around Asian American stories and beyond. Founding 3AD, a production company that underscores his commitment to amplifying diverse narratives within the industry, Kim ignited a movement towards inclusivity and representation, drawing inspiration from the overlooked and undervalued voices at the proverbial high school party of life. His mission, grounded in the belief that entertainment should both captivate and challenge, has already borne fruit with successes like the Good Doctor. Yet, Kim emphasizes, 3AD's scope transcends any single community, aiming instead to spotlight a mosaic of untold stories, thereby enriching our collective cultural tapestry.

Kim's commitment to portraying multifaceted characters that challenge stercotypes and his explorations beyond acting into producing reflect a continuous pursuit of artistic growth and contribution to the cultural dialogue. Beyond his on-sereen prowess, Kim's advocacy for greater diversity and inclusion in Hollywood has made him a pivotal figure in the push for a more equitable entertainment landscape.

With a career that spans critical acclaim and a fervent dedication to cultural change, Daniel Dac Kim remains a beacon of inspiration and a force for progress in the ever-evolving world of entertainment. Read on and get inspired by this slice of Daniel Dae Kim's thoughts on his life as a father, an actor, a producer, and more.

How's the Sunrise House Event at Sundance? How did it go?

They were really fantastic. We had some really informative panels with some industry leaders from every sector. We had a great fireside chat with Steve Yeun. And we had another one with Lucy Liu and that seemed good. 

The Fireside Chats seemed to go really well. The feedback was really good. We threw some banging parties. And so you know, it was a little bit of substance and a little bit of fun.

 

And it's really great and inspiring that you guys are doing this, because I'm seeing a lot more mainstream visibility, especially in Sundance as well for AAPI.

Yes. 

It's really cool. 

What's funny is that AAPI filmmakers have been on it for a while at Sundance, they just have never had a home, you know, somewhere where they can be celebrated and their achievements can be spotlighted. And also, I think there's just a broader movement toward multiculturalism. And that's an emphasis of our house as well. It's not just for the AAPI community, we took specific efforts to do outreach to other communities of color and I think that's really important.

 

That's amazing. Especially how you guys are extending your arms to the communities, building and growing it.

That's what it's about, that's what it's about. We had a dinner one night where we invited all the other major communities of color, and we broke bread together, we talked and hopefully, that's just the beginning of broader initiatives among our houses. 

How did you approach the complex character of Fire Lord Ozai?

As a dad. You know, I have two kids and just thinking about the ways that he's actually in his own way trying to guide his children to their best future is what I kind of keyed into. We may make mistakes as fathers, some intentional, some unintentional, but it doesn't mean... I don't think Ozai doesn't love his children. I think he does, but his love comes out in ways very different from the way I express it.

 

The intention is there. It's just expressed in its own ways.

Yes. And, they can be damaging. They are damaging- physically, in the case of Zuko, but we damage our children without knowing it. We've been damaged by our parents without them knowing it. It's part of the cycle of life and that's kind of how I found Ozai's humanity.

Now, speaking of Zuko and Iroh, and Ozai's family dynamics. How were you all able to explore this complex family relationship on screen?

One of the ways that we did it was to just get to know one another. I've known Paul Sun-Hyung Lee for a while, and I'm a big fan of his work. And so there was a natural bond between us right from the start, and I really enjoyed seeing Lizzie's work as Azula, and watching Dallas' work as Zuko was fantastic, and just seeing what they brought to the table allowed me to kind of see who my children were. Because we were coming together as actors, and we were seeing what each actor brought to the table. But I was able to use that to inform my relationship with the children. What are they good at? What do they need help with? Where do we want to guide their future? Where do I want to guide their strengths and their weaknesses? So things like that, and a little off-camera bonding was really important.

You played pivotal roles that defied stereotypes. How important is it for you to portray complex characters that go beyond just one archetype?

It's just interesting as an actor, you know. I never want to be doing one thing forever, I've been in situations where I played a character for six years, seven years, but, in the case of Lost, I'm so grateful that there was so much growth in that character. So it never became boring. But if I'm lucky enough to have the opportunity to work a lot, I want to use those opportunities to explore things I'm interested in as an artist. And part of that is just kind of finding a variety of kinds of people to play with.

And you've produced, you've acted, and you've explored all these other avenues in terms of creating art. What other things do you want to explore in the near future, aside from those realms?

Producing has been really interesting, the process of creation of television and film and theater has been something that has intrigued me for a while. Yes, I think, to have a holistic view of how one makes entertainment and how it affects us as a society and vice versa, I think it's a really interesting question. How entertainment reflects the cultures of our time and at the same time, pushes it in one direction or another.

What's the most valuable piece of advice you received from someone either in the industry or out of the industry that you always still carry with you?

That there's no room in show business for you, you have to make room. I keep that in mind because it encourages me to think that nothing is a given, nothing should be taken for granted and anything that I'm looking to do will probably require work because no one is asking me to do it.

What's the one thing people will  remember you after the credits roll? What do you want to be remembered as?

First and foremost, a good actor, because that's my life's passion, and I would say, second of all, someone who tried to use his platform to bring us together as a society.

What kind of book will Daniel Dae Kim be?

Well, I will tell you that I'm working on a project right now based on a book by Chang-Rae Lee, his first major novel - Native Speaker that came out in the 80s. And I have a real connection to that novel, because Chang-Rae and I are of the same generation as Korean Americans, and a lot of the issues he wrestles with in that book are issues that I've wrestled with my whole life. It's a beautifully written book. His prose is so eloquent and poetic. And it was the first time I'd ever read a book that kind of felt like he was talking to me.

Smoke In The Breeze, You In My Lungs.

The one where V/ash gives W/olfwood a gift, and W/olfwood gives V/ash a show. Feat. sneezy W/olfwood, and smitten V/ash. (Shipped, though not entirely ‘dating’, just more like ‘will be dating.’ Pre-dating. Also known as head over heels for each other, secretly). Also there’s totally a few not so secret moments about it~ 

First time attempting T/rigun S/tampede, so the characters voices are still new to me, hopefully this will be an acceptable addition to the AMAZING collection of V/ashwood fics already on here! For anyone bothering to read this, thank you~ Hope you enjoy~~

(References to smoking and swearing, incase you don’t like those) 

Characters: V/ash, W/olfwood, and a surprisingly cool desert night.  Word Count: 3.5k ~~~~~~~

The first time Vash remembered seeing Wolfwood smoke was almost immediately after meeting him. Since then, he seemed to always be either stuffing a cigarette between his teeth, crushing one on the ground, or somewhere in between. Despite this, cigarettes remain just as expensive as always, and Wolfwood remains the same short on cash grifter. Turns out addiction doesn’t pay for itself.  That’s why when Vash saw the pack of cigarettes sitting on the counter of a bar they had passed through on their last round of plant repairs, he had asked the man they were attached to where he’d found them. Turns out, there was a peddler in this town that sold rare and exotic types. Vash had gotten his money together and managed to afford a single pack. Tonight was the first time since then that the opportunity had presented itself to offer the gift without too much explanation needed as to its meanings.  “Hey, Nicho-” Vash starts, a light shove in response nearly sending him over the edge of the rock they find themselves balanced on. “Watch it Blondie, I told you, unless we’re alone, it’s Wolfwood.” Vash lets their eyes meet, before gesturing to the desert around them, barren aside from the car they’d ‘borrowed’ for this little trip. “Oh, yes, of course, I must have forgotten about the invisible forces watching us from- ouch! Okay, okay, sorry.”  The laughter in his voice doesn’t go unnoticed, a sharp smile in response forming on Wolfwood’s face. His smiles always had this edge to them, as if simply a touch from his lips would be enough to slice you open. Staring at him in the moonlight, Vash nearly thought about testing the theory. “Hey, blondie?” “Hmm?” “I assumed you had an end to that sentence you started before? Unless it was just a veiled attempt at getting yourself sent careening off a real high rock for the fun of it?” “Right, sorry. Yeah, I just… here.” Vash reached into his pocket, pulling out the pack of cigarettes and sticking them in Wolfwood’s hands, not missing the baffled look that slipped across the normally fixed features. “As payment, for that bread you spotted me the other day.” “You mean… the piece of bread that we got as payment for the job…?” Vash feels his hand graze the back of his neck before he even registers that he’s moved it. “W-well… I mean I guess… just consider it a gift then!” Wolfwood looks like he’s planning to say more, but once his eyes have finished tracing Vash’s face, he’s decided against it. Settling instead for flashing him a smirk, and pulling out the first one. Sticking it between his teeth, Wolfwood leans towards him. “Light me up, blondie.” A blush spreads like wildfire against Vash’s cheeks, and he pulls out the lighter Wolfwood had tossed him a few towns back, bringing it carefully to the cigarette. The glow of the flame lights up the mischief in Wolfwood’s eyes as he inhales, then gently blows the smoke right at Vash’s face.  “Hey-!” Coughing, Vash waves his hand in the air, giving Wolfwood a playful punch in return, laughing a bit at the grimace he receives. “Bit rough there, Blondie. Hm.. these taste a bit different than normal, are they the regular packs I get?” “You’re the one who blew smoke in my face! You’re lucky I’m wearing my sunglasses, or that would have gone right in my eyes! And um… I think they’re a different brand maybe?”  Wolfwood hums lightly, choosing to focus his attention on the first part of what Vash said. “Why are you wearing them at night? Are even the moons too bright for you?”  “Wha- no! I just got so used to the feeling of them on my face that…” Vash rubs his neck, offering a sheepish smile,  “It starts to feel weird without them. Not quite like being naked, more like walking around without a shirt on. Technically acceptable, but still quite weird. Feels vulnerable almost. Though sometimes if I- hey, you alright?” Wolfwood’s eyes have been captured by a far off look, his head slightly tilting back until- “hIH’ktsSHH’yue-! hAH’ZSHH’oo-!” “Oh, bless you!” With a rough sniff, Wolfwood brings his wrist back down from where it had assumed position under his nose. He gives Vash a sharp grin, taking another drag from the cigarette in lieu of a thank you.  “What were you on about then?” “Hm? Oh, it was nothing really. Honestly I don’t even remember where I was going with that.” “Alright.” And with that, they’re back to staring out at the desert sky. Not a cloud in sight, but somehow, it was darker than usual. ‘That wouldn’t normally be a bad thing, but… it makes it harder to see him’ Vash thinks, allowing his eyes to trace over to Wolfwood. The light of the cigarette glows faintly against the darkness of his clothes. His eyes though… they shine without any light at all. Somehow, despite being dark, Vash has always noticed the glow they seem to give off. “Hehh- hH’kttZSHH’yuee-!”  “Ble-” “Nohhht- not done Blondieehhhh-! hEH’ZZSCHH’OO-! hahh’ASHH’yuee-!”  “Triple bless you!” “Cute, needle-noggin.”  Vash smiles, the laughter dancing in Wolfwood’s eyes filling him with warmth, despite the cold air. “You alright though? Something setting you off?” Wolfwood gives a deep sniff before answering, apparently trying to see if he can smell anything unusual. Unfortunately, he’s already way too stuffed up to let anything pass, including air.  “Can’t tell. Doubt it though, likely just something irritating my allergies.” “In the middle of a desert…?” “You’d be surprised at the kind of flowering plants you can still find ‘round here. One time I walked into a town that had a full blooming cactus- flower- thing. Still don’t know exactly what it was, but damn it was potent. Was sneezing nearly the whole night, but it was too late to go find another place to stay.” Wolfwood seems to shudder a little at the memory, his hand coming up to rub at his nose as if even the thought of it was starting to irritate him.  “Pretty sure I woke everyone in that motel, got some real dirty looks the next morning.” Vash laughs, dodging a punch thrown at his good arm. Wolfwood gives him a glare, but there’s no fire in his eyes. Only warmth. The cigarette he’s been smoking has reached its last legs, and Wolfwood crushes it, before pulling out another, leaning in once again for Vash to light it. “Might as well treat myself to a few tonight, it’s a gift after all, right Blondie?” Vash obliges, lighting it up and letting his head tilt with a nod, partially to agree, mostly to hide the flush starting to fill his cheeks at the mention of the gift. Thankfully, he’s soon distracted, as Wolfwood lets out another itchy gasp, this time barely managing to turn away from Vash before the sneezes break free. “hihh’ZZSH’yuee-! heHH- hAH’ktSHHH’ooo-! hh’RRUSHH’ueee-! Fuck- hah’ASHH’ooo-! Hehh… ihhh’hEH’ZSHH’OOO-!”  “Jeez, Nico. Bless you, are you alright?” A shiver runs through Wolfwood, his cheeks slightly pink as he turns back to face Vash. “‘Scuse me. I’m alright. Just somethin’ tick-hhH’ZSHHH’OO-! Oh god, not doohhhne!”  Vash wants to turn away, give him some privacy, but something about the vulnerability of the display has him captivated. Wolfwood’s eyes are fighting to stay open, fluttering against the depth of the tickle. His mouth hangs open, breath hitching wildly as his nose practically trembles. “hHH’KSHH’yuee-! Huhhh- hEH’RSHHH-ISHHH-ZSCHHH’ooo-! Wheww~ Ohgod- iHh’NGXttt’shiew-!”  Desperate to stop the onslaught, he attempts to stifle the last one, Vash not missing the shivers it sends down his spine. Both of them know what a stupid choice that was, as Wolfwood can do nothing but gasp against the cold air, before ducking into his arm with another rapid, yet softer, fit. “hhH’ishh’iew-! tiSHH’iew-! hehh’ASHH’iew-! Hehh- hH’DTshhh’iew-!”  “Bless you. You really shouldn’t hold them in like that, you know it just makes you sneeze more afterwards.” A blush spreads across Wolfwood’s face, Vash not missing the way the dark eyes refuse to meet his own. “Yeah, yeah. Thank you Dr. Blondie, I’ll keep that in mind.” The tone is light and teasing, but there’s a deeper mood to it that Vash can’t quite put his finger on. This isn’t new to him, Wolfwood quite often uses humour or charm to mask deeper, actual emotions. Deciding to let him keep what dignity he has left after the fits, Vash just offers a sweet smile, and a tissue from his pocket. Wolfwood greedily reaches for it before pausing, and gently handing Vash the cigarette to hold before grabbing the tissue.  Offering a ‘thanks’ over his shoulder as he turns away, he roughly blows his nose, Vash wincing at the congested sounds. Turning back with his mouth still slightly hanging open, ‘likely to breathe’ Wolfwood gives Vash a tight smile, before taking the cigarette back. “Are you sure you don’t know what’s causing this? You’re not getting sick, are you? You could tell me if you were, ya know. It’s not a bad thing to admit-” “I’m not sick. Just itchy.” “And stuffed up.” There’s a pause, Wolfwood seemingly taking stock of his symptoms. Vash attempts to do the same.  “Yeah. Still, it feels like allergies. If I was getting sick I’d be feeling it in my throat by now.” “Hm… normally you’d be coughing by now too.” Wolfwood shoots him a look, and Vash blushes a bit, rushing through an explanation before he can stop himself. “We just spend a lot of time together, and I noticed that usually when you get sick you get a cough pretty quickly- not first though, first comes a sore throat- usually I can tell because you don’t talk as much- not that you talk too much! You just talk more than I do sometimes, and well, when you’re sick you don’t, and that’s how I can tell it’s starting- but yeah usually the coughing starts before the sne-” “Blondie, take a breath.” Vash chuckles nervously, aiming his gaze at the ground where the crushed cigarette lays, still slightly smouldering, so he grinds it a bit further into the rock. “hH’ZSCHH’ooo-! hehh’ktCHH’iew-! haHH’DNNGT’shhh-!”  “Didn’t we just go over th-” “hIH’ISHH’iew-! Tishh’iew-! hH’ZSHH’iew-! heH’ashh’iew-! HH’zshh’IEW-!” “-this. Bless you.” His tone is teasing, and Wolfwood shoots him an exasperated look, rolling his eyes dramatically, though Vash can’t quite tell if that was meant for him, or the sneezes that seemed to still be dancing through his sinuses. “Hehhh- hH’HDT- guhhh…”  “Still need to sneeze?” “Whaahhhht do you hehhh…. hH’IHH-uhhhhh what do you think?”  Vash blushes, the desperation in Wolfwood’s words simmering in his stomach in ways he’d rather not dwell on. Instead, he reaches over and runs a single finger down the bridge of Wolfwood’s pronounced nose, smirking at the way his eyes tear up immediately. He manages to keep enough wits about him to aim away from Vash’s hand, but doesn’t even attempt to cover as the sneezes blast out of him. “HH’ZSCHHH’OO-! hah’ASHH’ooo-! RRUSHHH’UEE-! HAHH’ZSHHH’YUEE-! Hehh… hehH’KTSHH’ooo-! hh’zzUSHH’ooo-! Jeez, ‘scuse me. Thanks for that, Blondie. They were really tormenting me there.” “Bless you. Seemed like you needed a little help, is all.” “Yeah. Damn, still itches something fierce. Really don’t know what’s got me so irritated.”  Vash glances around the desert once more. Nothing catches his eye, the vast open space still empty of anything more than sand and their car. “We seem to be the only things around. Unless you’ve suddenly developed an allergy to sand. Oh god, that would be- “hEH’KISHH’ooo-!”  “Exactly! Took the words right out of my mo- ouch! Okay, okay, jeez. No need to beat me up! I’m not the one causing this.” They pause for a minute, Wolfwood’s eyes watery and glossed over, but Vash’s suddenly wide and frantic. “Wait, you don’t think you’re allergic to me, do you?! I mean, I’m the only thing around, and you’re having an allergy attack, so it figures that you have to be allergic to something nearby, and since I’m the only thin-” “Blondie, you’re giving me a headache.” “Sorry…”  “Don’t worry so much. I’m not allergic to you. I’d be long dead by now if I was, what with how much you cling to my side.” “I’m pretty sure you’re the one who just decided to invite yourself along on everything I do.” “Regardless of the details, my point stands. I can’t possibly be allergic to you. Besides, it only started recen- hehH- hold on-” Wolfwood pauses, voice entirely air. His breath catches, then releases once more, stuck right on the edge of sneezing and hitching. Vash feels a pang of sympathy at the desperate look in his eyes as they flutter between closed and open. Wolfwood is stuck, mouth ajar, head slightly tilted. One hand is hovering in front of his face, lightly fanning, the other holding his cigarette as it burns closer and closer to his fingers. Noticing the pain that’s sure to occur soon, Vash knocks it down, crushing it beneath his boot, not missing the growl of protest Wolfwood manages to slip out between gasps. “You’re a bit too preoccupied to be smoking that right now, and I don’t think either of us want you getting burned by it.” All he gets are hitches in return, the groaning starting to air on the side of moans as Wolfwood tries frantically to get the sneezes to come out. Finally he reaches over, grabbing Vash’s hand, sending chills down his spine. He’s too far gone to speak, but he doesn’t need words. Vash knows what to do. Gently taking his finger, and running it down the bridge of his nose like he did before, Vash nearly faints at the deep and airy moan that escapes Wolfwood’s throat, before he lunges forward with a harsh fit, lightly misting Vash’s hand as he attempts to move out of the way. “hEH’ISHH’YIUU-! ASHHH’YUUE-! ZSSHHH-DTSHH-KTSHHH’OOO-! hehh- heH’kNXGT’SHOO-! heH’ISHH’iew-! hh’zzSHH’ooo-! What the fuck- RSHHH’ooo-! hh’ktSHH’ooo-! heH’RSHHHH’yuue-! Oh thank god.”  “Bless you Nicholas. Better?” He receives a desperate sniff in response, wet and heady, and Vash searches through his pockets for another tissue, handing over a pack he forgot he was carrying. “You been holdin’ out on me.” Wolfwood mutters, crushing his nose into them and letting out a harsh blow. “Forgot I had them, sorry ‘bout that, I woulda handed ‘em over sooner if I remembered.” Wolfwood comes up for air, his nose twitching in the cold night air, before pressing it back into the tissues for another blow. Finally, seeming to get enough relief to satisfy him, his watery glance meets Vash’s, an itchy sigh releasing from his chest. “All is forgiven, feels much better now. Except that you crushed my smoke before I was finished with it!” “Ah, sorry ‘bout that too, but it was for the best.” Already pulling another out, Wolfwood gives him another sharp smile, this time laced with something that makes Vash’s heart flutter before he has a chance to stop it. “At this rate I’m gonna finish the pack before morning.” As he reaches over to get it lit, Vash gently pulls it out from between his lips. Wolfwood raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t say a word, and doesn’t move back either, their faces close enough to feel the other’s breath. Vash places the smoke in his mouth, lights it, and takes a drag, ‘Hm, it does taste a bit different… what is this, I wonder.’ before letting Wolfwood remove it, and place it between his own lips.  Neither moves, Wolfwood breathing in too, Vash still holding his breath, though not by choice anymore. They stay like this for a beat, before Wolfwood turns to the side, blowing out, before turning back, eyes aglow. Vash finally realizes he’s still holding the smoke in his lungs, and goes to exhale, before pausing. ‘Time for a little revenge for the earlier smoke blowing’.  He lets his breath go, smoke drifting right into Wolfwood’s face. The reaction is instantaneous, Wolfwood using every fiber of his being to aim for Vash’s shoulder instead of his face as the sneezes burst out of him, forcing the cigarette to drop onto the ground where Vash crushes it. “hhH’zzSHH’ooo-! hh’ASHHH’ooo-! heH’ihhDSHH’ieew-! hUH’RUSHHH’yuee-! B- Blond- hAH’KTSHHH’ooo-! hihh’ZZCHH’OOO-! hH’EDDshh’yue-! RSHHH’ooo-!”  “Oh god, bless you Nico!”  Vash pauses for a second, before realization sets across his face, immediately replaced by panic as he turns over the pack in his hand, reading the label. “Shit- Nicholas, oh damn it-” Through congested sniffles, Wolfwood manages to shoot him a questioning gaze, before another desperate sneezes rips through him, this time giving him enough time to aim for the ground. “hEHH’KTSHH’shiew-!” “Bless you. I’m so sorry!” “What are you sorry for, I’m the one who just… juuhhhst… hhh’ISHH’yue-! ktSHH’ooo-! Scuse me- just sneezed against your shoulder.”  “Bless yo- huh? Oh, that’s nothing, don’t worry about it. It’s my fault anyways, I really should have seen it sooner, I was just… kinda distracted… I’m so sorry!” “Seen what…? What am I missing here Blondie?” Vash blushes, this time deep enough that Wolfwood can’t help but raise an eyebrow at the colour shift.  “T- the… the pack of smokes I gave you… you said they tasted different, and I thought it was just the brand, but when I had one I couldn’t quite put my finger on what it was- it tasted like more than just a different brand- I mean I should have smelled it in the smoke but I wasn’t paying attention- and you were too stuffed up to smell or taste it anymore- I’d heard of flavoured cigarettes before but I’ve never seen them around here so I didn’t even think to-” “Blondie, rambling again. Is there a point you’re gettin’ to?” “.....They’re cinnamon flavoured. Which means the smoke is cinnamon scented too.”  Wolfwood stares for a moment, before letting out a laugh that nearly startles Vash off the rock. “That’s all? Blondie, with the way you were goin’ on, I thought they were poisoned or something!” “B- but… you’re allergic to cinnamon..? That’s why you’re sneezing so much, and… and it’s all my fault…” Vash feels his face flushing again, tears starting to form in his eyes before he can fight them off. ‘Why are you crying, you’re the one who caused this, you don’t get to cry-’.  His thoughts are cut off by the feeling of soft hands against his cheeks. One hand wipes away the tears, lingering just a moment on his cheek, while the other runs up into his hair, eliciting a soft sigh that he can’t stop. “I’m not angry at you, Vash.” Vash manages to clear his head enough to recognize the hands belong to Nicholas. The voice that spoke up belongs to him too, and there’s a gentle tone in it he’s never heard before. The eyes staring back at him belong to the man as well, and the kindness seeping through them nearly starts Vash crying again. “Y… you’re not…?” A light chuckle breaks through, and Vash feels his heart drowning in longing. “It’s just some sneezing, Blondie. We both know I’ve had worse. Plus, I was still enjoying the smoke, even with the unfortunate byproduct.” Vash stares, head filling with thoughts he can’t ignore. ‘Why isn’t he angry?’ ‘He was still enjoying them?’ ‘Is he okay with this?’ and front and center, ‘His hands are still touching me, does he know that?’  One hand still cups his face, thumb running along his chin, while the other seems content to pet through his hair. Vash can’t help but gasp as Nicholas suddenly pulls back, both hands leaving his skin, prompting his own to reach out for them. “hihh’KTshhh’iew-!”  ‘Oh.’  With that, Nicholas lets Vash’s hands grab his own, returning the grasp. Neither of them pulls closer, but neither pulls away. They just sit there for a minute letting the contact send burning chills through their bodies, almost as if they were being electrocuted. And yet… it was the most soothing feeling either had ever had.  After a few minutes of this, Vash broke off first, barely catching the airy sigh that escaped between Nicholas’s teeth. Vash could see his nose was still twitching, a red sheen on it glowing in the moonlight. ‘When did it get so much brighter out here?’ “We should get you some allergy meds, or you’re gonna be sneezing the rest of the night. Neither of us will get any sleep if that happens.” “Right, Blondie. Lead the way.” Neither of them says a word about the contact, the electricity, or the burning urge to do it again that bangs against each of their chests. Somehow, an unspoken agreement has been made, one that both of them seem desperate to keep. ‘That didn’t happen, I didn’t love it, and it will never happen again.’  Of course, both of them also know it’s a lie, and are eagerly awaiting the next excuse to feel that softness again. Somewhere, in the middle of a surprisingly cool desert night, under a dark sky, one touch lights a spark, and two cold hearts start to thaw in the heat. 

Billy & Muse in the early days are so 'Superman' coded... I never realized that before.

"He puts papers in his briefcase and drives away / To save the world or go to work / It's the same thing to me"

It's his muse in the beginning before all the whole 'I hate you, we break up, you call me, I love you' shenanigans that ensue throughout the early days of the situationship (if you wanna even call it that/whatever ***That*** situation is called)

"I wonder if he knows how much that I miss him / I hang on every word you say"

Need I say more?

"Come back, I'll be with you someday / I'll be right here on the ground / When you come back down"

I feel like this can be taken as either when Billy leaves on tour and Muse stays behind for whatever reason.. or when Billy goes on a bender and the two fight, he tells her to leave, and eventually gets her to come back around when he's sober; gives 'when you come back down' a different meaning.

"He's complicated, he's irrational"

Poor tortured artist Billy :( (sarcasm) but since he has that duel complex of thinking he's some tortured artist but also the best fucking thing since sliced bread... and toss in his short fuse and well... complicated and irrational is he.

"'He's not all bad like his reputation' / And I can't hear one single word they say"

... so 'they' being Eddie... maybe Daisy too. But mainly Eddie. Mainly Eddie trying to convince her that Billy's no good for her (but simultaneously not being the best choice for her either—)

"And I watch you fly around the world / And I hope you don't save some other girl"

The heartbreak when Billy tells her for the first time that 'she's just some groupie' and that 'he has a lineup of girls who would be fine with just the bare minimum' and 'he's billy fucking dunne and she's just... a groupie'

And just that horrible horrible feeling Muse gets when she's away from him after he says those things to her because what if he really does 'save' some other girl after he kicks her out for a day or two...

But then here he comes with flowers and sweets and a half-assed verbal apology followed by make-up sex and...

Well, we know how the rest goes.

wait, you're so right

whatever is that he's doing is life altering for her, his music is life changing, he's an icon, so far above, and she's lost in the daze of it all. his songwriting, him playing the guitar, driving off to the studio before she started coming too. and he totally just starts consuming her thoughts from day one and then once she's got a taste she can't let go. every sweet thing he's ever said is engraved in her brain which is what makes it hurt so much more when he starts switching up.

yes!! he comes back down to reality, he sobers up and comes crawling back to her because he cares about her, he loves her, and he knows that when he's not letting the fame, the fear, take over. and it makes her realize he's much more than the rockstar she became infatuated with because he was endearing but also kind of an ass sometimes, but he can also fluctuate between being so caring to falling into a pit of ego. songs about not being enough (well thanks to daisy encouraging him to write that way) but then he's the shit and nobody can compare.

eddie, daisy, karen, her dad, I'm sure so many people have things to say about being in some sort of situationship with billy dunne. but she can't hear it when she knows at his best it just feels so right, so perfect.

okay and eventually she realizes there will always be groupies, but they're just sex to him (which makes the comments about that being her hurt more) but anyways when she's putting that aside it makes her feel more confident about her place, it's more than just physical. but god, when it's one of those rare times he's kicked her out instead of her leaving and then the thoughts of, 'what if he finds a new me? finds a new girl and then he won't need me anymore' and it's almost enough to make her call first (don't get me wrong there's a time or two when she does but that's for me to write about not in this blurb lmao) but then there's billy at her door and all those thoughts are shaken away because he's so sweet now. and the makeup sex would always be so good-

but we know the drill