What to do if you suddenly find yourself homeless


  • Find your nearest food bank or mission, for food
  • grocery stores with free samples, bakeries + stores with day-old bread
  • different fast food outlets have cheaper food and will generally let you hang out for a while.
  • some dollar stores carry food like cans of beans or fruit


  • Sleeping at beaches during the day is a good way to avoid suspicion and harassment
  • sleep with your bag strapped to you, so someone can’t steal it
  • Some churches offer short term residence
  • Find your nearest homeless shelter
  • Look for places that are open to the public
  • A large dumpster near a wall can often be moved so that flipping up the lids creates an angled shelter to stay dry


  • A membership to the YMCA is usually only 10$, which has a shower, and sometimes laundry machines and lockers.
  • Public libraries have bathrooms you can use
  • Dollar stores carry low-end soaps and deodorant etc.
  • Wet wipes are all purpose and a life saver
  • Local beaches, go for a quick swim
  • Some truck stops have showers you can pay for
  • Staying clean is the best way to prevent disease, and potentially get a job to get back on your feet
  • Pack 7 pairs of socks/undies, 2 outfits, and one hooded rain jacket


  • first aid kit
  •  sunscreen
  •  a travel alarm clock or watch
  •  mylar emergency blanket
  •  a backpack is a must
  •  downgrade your cellphone to a pay as you go with top-up cards
  •  sleeping bag
  •  travel kit of toothbrush, hair brush/comb, mirror
  •  swiss army knife
  •  can opener

ICYMI: Angela Dimayuga is the queer executive chef of Mission Chinese Food. She recently received a request to be featured on IvankaTrump.com, a “non-political platform of empowerment for modern working women.” (Okay.)

Here’s the badass way she responded. Full text:

Hi Adi,

Thank you for thinking of me. I’m glad you are a fan of my work so much that you want to provide more visibility for my career to inspire “other working women.” However, I’m for women who actually empower other women.

I don’t believe that IvankaTrump.com is truly “a non-political platform of empowerment for [women]”. So long as the name Trump is involved, it is political and frankly, an option for the IvankaTrump.com business to make a profit.

I don’t see anything empowering about defunding Planned Parenthood, barring asylum from women refugees, rolling back safeguards for equal pay, and treating POC/LGBT and the communities that support these groups like second class citizens.

As a queer person of color and daughter of immigrant parents I am not interested in being profiled as an aspirational figure for those that support a brand and a President that slyly disparages female empowerment. Sharing my story with a brand and family that silences our same voices is futile.

Thank you for the consideration.

Oh, HELL yes. (via the Huffington Post)

Stark’s Girl (NSFW)

Pairing: Peter Parker(Spider-Man) x Reader

Summary: Reader is Stark’s daughter and has a crush on Spider-Man AND Peter Parker. What happens when Spidey shows up in her room?

Words: 2972

Warning: SMUT and fluff and language

  Being Tony Stark’s daughter has its perks, the biggest one being that you know the Avengers. A lot of your classmates, girls and guys alike, always bombard you with questions ranging from “Are they really as nice as we think” to “Is Thor’s ‘hammer’ as big as we think. You have no answers for the latter kind. Even if you were legal age, they’ve become your family: it’d just be weird
However, there’s one Avenger that you’d jump at the chance to get with; Spider-Man. You’ve never actually met him, you don’t even know his age, but at this point of your crush, it didn’t matter to you. You’re too far down that rabbit hole.
Which is why you’re in your current situation: some asshole jock trying to ask you out. You’ve already done the polite refusal, but he won’t give up. Time for plausible excuse now. You glance around for any help and see your second crush, Peter Parker.

  There are a couple reasons for this one. One, he didn’t ever try to pursue you like many others did. Two, he’s shy and pretty sweet. Three, he’s smart and not afraid to show it.

  You couldn’t use him as your excuse. He gets bullied enough, no need to add to it. So, you went with your second choice.

  “Sorry, but I already have plans with Spider-Man tonight. My dad set it up for me.”

  Everyone’s attention turns to you, which only makes a faint blush crawl up your neck. Pressing your books tighter to your chest, you hold yourself higher just like Tony had taught you when you go to galas. When you turn to leave for your next class, you see Peter looking at you with slight surprise and something else that you can’t recognize.

  Choosing to ignore it for now, you walk past everyone who’d been staring at you, though they’re still staring since you turned down one of the most sought-after jocks on the team. Some of them understand because who would pass up a date with Spider-Man? Others wonder if you’re mentally ill.

  Ned elbows Peter hard after people start scattering. “Dude! Y/n Stark and you?”

  Peter feels his cheeks flush as he rolls his shoulder to relax his arm from his friend hitting him. “Actually, no. That never was set up, so no. I, nor Spidey, have a date with her.”

  Ned furrows his brows, leaning against the lockers. “But…what’s keeping you from showing up at her place later?”

  Pausing, Peter stares into the empty space of his locker. What is keeping him from showing up and just…hanging out with her as Spider-Man? He didn’t have a chance as Peter Parker, but apparently Spider-Man does. So, with a slam of his locker, he sets a plan in his head.

  And boy are you in for a surprise.
  You groan out loud as you fall face first onto your bed, your backpack forgotten by your bedroom door. The Avengers are out on a mission, but there’s food in the fridge from last night so you aren’t stranded on your own. It’s kind of weird being on your own after the Avengers had taken a break. Well, it isn’t their choice, but now they’re allowed to go out again and fight. You’re happy they have their jobs back, but ever since the team pretty much split in half, it’s been weird to get used to.

  Rolling onto your back, your hair splaying over your bed behind you, you close your eyes with a heavy sigh. You’re alone for an undetermined amount of time with hardly any homework left because you used your study hall to do it instead of getting a guy to make out with and no one to call because you really don’t make friends in your classes, so you’re stuck.

  A tap on your window makes you jump in surprise. Who could be at your window when you literally live in a skyscraper? So, being the curious girl you are, you pad silently over to the window and pull the curtains back, nearly screaming when you suddenly see Spider-Man’s face. Well, masked face, but it still counts. You somehow keep yourself from falling backwards before you open the window to let him in. You didn’t want him to fall off the side of the building!

  “What the hell are you doing?” you ask, your voice squeaking in surprise.

  A muffled chuckle comes from him. “Sorry to scare you, but someone told me we had plans together. Why didn’t I get wind of that?”

  You turn red, but shrug playfully. “Well, maybe word didn’t get around to you fast enough, mar busy-body. Though…since you’re here…”

  He tilts his head. “Since I’m here…”

  “We could hang out.”

  You can’t tell what his expression is under his mask, but you do see the eyes on his mask widen slightly. It’s actually a little funny to watch his mask move with his expression. You smile cheekily at him as you move to sit on the small couch in your room, which is in front of your TV and gaming stand. You pat the seat next to you.

  “Are you coming over here to talk to me or what?”

  He nearly jumps clear across the room to land on the couch next to you, making you giggle at him. Who knew Spider-Man was such a goof?

  “So, uh…y-you wanted to talk? Or hang out?”

  “Isn’t that kinda what we’re doing?” You ask, leaning your elbow onto the arm of the couch behind you and laying your head against your fist.

  He nods quickly, folding his hands in his lap. He’s bending forward a little bit, obviously nervous, but also excited to be here with you.

  You grin. You’re already having fun with him and you can’t wait to see what happens with this.

  He clears his throat. “So, uh, wanna know anything about me?”

  You hum softly as you think. There are several things you really wanna know, but you don’t wanna scare him off. As a Stark, you’re not very…censored, so it’s easy to scare people who aren’t used to it and you don’t know what all Spidey can take of your brashness, so you go with the first, logical choice.

  “Who are you under that mask, Mr. wallcrawler?”

  He chuckles, nudging your arm with his elbow. “You know I can’t tell you. You should know better than anyone that I can’t.”

  You roll your eyes, turning to sit facing him, meaning that your back is to the arm of the couch. “Well…what can I see of your face?”

  He sighs softly, giving in to you a little as he pulls his mask up just over his nose. You keep yourself from blushing when your eyes glance down to his pink lips and back up to the white eyes of his mask. You bite your bottom lip as you think more in your head, trying to keep all the thoughts you know are just plain awful that you really want to do with him down out of your mouth.

  Oh, the things you wanted to do to him with your mouth.

  “You okay? You haven’t said anything in a while,” he says softly, getting nervous since you hadn’t said anything after he pulled his mask up slightly.

  “Huh? O-oh, no! I’m fine! Promise.”

  “Hey, Y/n!” your father calls from down the hall. “Me and the team are heading out for a bit, you gonna be okay on your own?”

  Your thoughts run faster with this. “Yeah, Dad! I’ll just study or something!”

  Spider-Man watches you as a huge smile spreads across your lips and you scoot to sit closer to him. “So, Spidey, do you…wanna do anything fun?”

  He smiles softly, scratching the back of his head. “Um, yeah. That’d be awesome.”

  You lean towards him, trying to keep your eyes on his instead of his lips. “Do you trust me? To do something fun with you?”

  He nods slowly, glancing down at your lips even though you can’t see it. “Yeah…I do.”

  You grin before you crash your lips onto his, one of your hands moving to cup his cheek, keeping him close. His hands immediately grab your waist, pulling you closer than you were a few seconds ago. Smirking to yourself, you pull away from his hands and his lips, standing up and walking to your bed with a sway in your hips. He turns to watch you, licking his lips as he tries to process everything. Are you serious about this?

  You rest your hands on your hips. “You coming or am I doing this on my own?”

  Again, he jumps across the room to you, his arms wrapping around your waist again, hands playing with the hem of your shirt. You giggle softly, curling your arms around his neck to play with the small curls that slipped out the back of his mask. You feel a little weird to be doing this, after all you have another crush on an amazing boy from high school who’s the sweetest ever, but…

  It’s not every day you get a chance to be with Spider-Man.

  You press your lips to his again, only this time he’s ready for it and he moves his lips with yours languidly. You could do this all day, you’ve never kissed anyone that makes you feel this way. As heat starts to build within you, his tongue flicks across your lips before slipping into your mouth. He seems cautious to do anything with you, so you have to take the lead.

  Tugging at his curls, you nip his bottom lip gently and step back towards your bed, pulling him on top of you as you fall onto your bed. You both end up laughing softly as he pulls himself up to hover above your body, dipping down again to kiss you. He would probably only keep doing that if you let him, just kissing your lips over and over and over…

  But you have other ideas.

  You press the small spider on his chest to loosen his suit. You helped your uncle design it, so you know how it works, even though that surprises him that you do. Helping you out, he pulls his gloves off and slides his suit off his body, revealing all the muscles he’s gained from his job. Man, is he built, but he’s still lean. Definitely not as big as Cap, but built more than guys at school are when they brag about their muscles.

  “Eight pack?” you ask with a smirk, dragging your fingers down his abs, making him tense them in surprise.

  “Uh, well, you know…climbing walls and swinging around New York takes a lot of…core strength.”

  Not boastful. Good trait to have.

  You pull your shirt off with an arch of your back. The white eyes on his mask seem to widen as you reveal more of your bare, flush skin to him. He licks his lips again before he starts pressing wet, open mouth kisses to your jaw and down your neck. You let out a soft gasp of surprise before you end up whining when he nibbles at the spot right above your collar bone, which only makes him grin and suck on your skin. You have a feeling he really doesn’t care about leaving marks or is even thinking about the consequences of what could happen if anyone sees them. Not that you are, either.

  His hands run down your stomach to the hem of your pants, his fingers hooking into the belt loops of them. He tugs and you lift your hips, letting him pull your pants down which also pulls your underwear down a little, just enough to make it obvious that he’s getting very excited.

  You giggle softly, pulling his suit off his hips and down his legs, showing off his plaid boxers. He picks you up to lay you down on your bed again, your head on your pillows as he kicks his suit off, climbing over you. You wrap your arms back around his neck to crash his lips back to yours, your tongue immediately invading his mouth again. His hips press down against yours and you whine, wanting both of your underclothes gone so you can just feel him. God, did you want to feel him.

  He must feel the same since he hooks his finger into your panties and pulls them down, followed by his boxers. You quickly pull away from him to twist your body and fumble for your bedside table drawer. He smiles as he starts placing kisses on your back, sucking and licking every now and then, gently biting your shoulder blades when you stretch them. You whimper as you tug a small packet out of the drawer and hold it in front of his eyes.

  “What’s this?” he asks with a tilt of his head.

  “Did you never go to sex ed?” You let out a soft laugh. “It’s a condom. You put it on your dick so I don’t get pregnant.”

  His cheeks flare red as he gently takes it from you, tearing it open carefully so it doesn’t rip before rolling it onto himself, biting his lip as his eyes drag along your body. You smile, tracing your fingers over the lines of his muscles. He shudders and ducks his head down to leave kisses along the tops of your breasts, only being stopped by the bra you hadn’t slipped off. He growls and nips at your skin as his hands travel behind you, fumbling with the clasp as he can’t keep his mouth off your skin. You moan softly when you rock your hips up against his and his cock presses against your clit. He smiles as he finally frees your breasts from the confines of your bra and finally takes the nipple of your left breast in your mouth to tongue over and suck.

  You rock your hips up again and the tip snags slightly at your entrance, making him push his hips forward at the feeling, wanting to just wreck you completely.

  “Spider-Man,” you whisper breathily against his ear, tugging at the curls on the base of his neck. “Please, take me. I need you.”

  His hand goes to your neglected breast and gently kneads it as he presses into you, making both of you moan and you to hiss softly in his ear. He lifts his head from your chest and captures your lips sweetly, passionately.

  Then, you realize it’s more than just two bodies having sex.

  His thrusts start slowly, gently just rocking your body with his hips. It starts driving you crazy as he keeps his steady, slow, hot pace. So much that it makes you whimper his name in his ear, which only makes him grin as he moves his lips to your neck again, sucking on the mark his already left. When you whimper again, his hips jerk forward quickly and hard.

  “Shit!” You squeal, hips bucking with the thrust.

  He chuckles breathlessly against your neck, starting up again with that same pace now, hard and quick thrusts mixed in with his former slow and steady. Each one making a different sound leave your lips, sometimes a squeal or high moan, sometimes a yell of his name. Each sound you make drives him on, soft groans and your name leaving him.

  “Spidey, oh, god…” you murmur into his ear, your arms wrapping over his shoulders to pull him closer, your nails dragging across his skin to leave marks that would definitely be there in the morning.

  “Close, baby?” he whispers into your neck, gently biting at your neck. “Wanna cum on my dick?”

  You whine, arching your back. “Please, please, harder…”

  He lifts himself up, hands on either side of your head before his hips suddenly slam forward, making you cry out loudly as you clench around him, your entire body going rigid under him. He smiles softly, watching you come undone as he keeps slamming into you until he moans loudly, filling the condom. You pull him back down and leave gentle kisses along his shoulder and up is neck, sucking at the skin right under his jaw.

  He pulls out of you slowly after you both calm down from your orgasm and falls onto his side next to you. He pulls the condom off and ties it off before throwing it away in your trashcan and burying it in tissues and paper balls. He finally collapses next to you, groaning softly.

  “This…might just be…the best day…of my entire life,” he whispers, just loud enough for you to hear.

  You giggle, curling up next to him and slinging your arm over his stomach. “Wanna cuddle for a bit?”
He nods, pulling you against his body. “Honestly…I’ll probably pass out soon. Sorry in advance.”

  You nod, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “Go ahead and sleep, my hero. You did a lot of work today.”

  He smiles and you watch as the eyes on his mask close. You wait a while until his chest rises and falls evenly, only then daring to mess with his mask. His entire body is still sparkling with sweat from the sex you just had, so wouldn’t it be better if he could breathe easier without the mask?

  You gently, carefully, pull the mask off his face, watching as loose, sweaty curls drop onto his forehead, a grin spreading your lips. No reason to feel guilty about sleeping with Spider-Man now.

  Peter Parker lays next to you in your bed, curls in his face, eyes closed, breathing softly, after you had just had sex. You cuddle close to his chest, your legs entangled with his own.

  It’ll be fun when you wake up later.

tags: @captainswriting @caitsymichelle13 @384-chubby-dumpling



Here’s a classic big city dilemma (sorry suburban folks): It’s late at night, the weather is bad, and you’re hungry. Your favorite restaurant is less than a mile away, but you don’t want to leave the house, and you don’t want to pay a $5 delivery fee — plus tip — for a $10 meal.

So, what do you do?

Back in the old days, you would have braved the elements — or learned to plan ahead. But those days are coming to an end, at least in Washington, D.C.

A fleet of about 20 autonomous, knee-high robots recently has appeared on the sidewalks of the nation’s capital, and they’re out to revolutionize hyper-local delivery in big cities. Their mission? Bring takeout food from restaurants to hungry customers at home — while keeping the delivery cost to around a dollar.

Hungry? Call Your Neighborhood Delivery Robot

Photos by Meg Kelly/NPR

Son of Haggar part 3

Shiro watched his team with tired eyes. He haven’t had that much sleep. Lance wasn’t there. It felt lonely, and quiet. Without Lance, it was hard for the team to even relax. Lance only came out, for missions, to get food, and training. He wore sunglasses and a winter hat.

Lance just wanted to be alone. It hurt..

Shiro decide to head over to Lance’s room, hoping maybe if Lance talked to him. Maybe he’s homesick, or having his insecurities. Shiro took a deep breath as he stands infront of Lance’s door.

1 knock


2 knocks


Shiro though was determined to talk to Lance, Shiro was lucky enough to know how to unlock the biolock from Pidge. And walked into the dark room, only the pale blue light shine the room. Shiro spotted Lance, or Lance cover in his blanket. He could hear the slow and soft breathing patterns of sleep coming from Lance. Shiro couldn’t help but feel sadness wash over.

He walked over to the sleeping Lance, and slowly pulled the covers. His eyes widened as he stared at the peaceful sleeping Lance. His ears were longer, altean like. He had… he seen those altean marks before.. from Haggar. But they were a dark blue.

Lance slowly opened his eyes, they fluttered for a moment. As Lance looked up at Shiro, his eyes weren’t the same. The black pupil was replaced by a pale blue pupil.

Lance’s beach ocean eyes widened with fear, tears were crawling they’re way out. He quickly sat up as he pulled the blanket over himself, hiding himself.

“Don’t look!” He shouted. It was shaky, Shiro could hear him crying just by his voice. Shiro felt guilt wash over him, he must of given Lance the look of terror.

“Lance..” He slowly pulled the cover off of Lance. His ears were down and eyes shut, and tears were falling off. Shiro with his galra arm wiped away those beautiful tears. “Lance, look at me. Please.” Lance opened is eyes and looked up at him. Shiro couldn’t help smile at him softly, with those eyes. He couldn’t hate him, he loved him to much.

“I’m a monster… I’m ugly.. I don’t want to be like her!” He cried as he gripped the grey sheet. Shiro sadden as he pulled Lance into a warm hug. Lance cried harder onto Shiro, repeating those words over. Shiro couldn’t help but glare, thinking of what Haggar said or even done to him.

Shiro pulled Lance’s face to look at him, again with his galra hand wiped the tears away. Lance slowly calmed down as he looked into the grey stormy eyes.

“Your not a monster. Your still our paladin. My- Our heart of Voltron.” Shiro paused but went on.

“You beautiful Lance.”

Lance blushed and smile softly, “Thank you Shiro..” he looked down and whispered, as if it was a secret not to be told by anyone. “Will you stay with me?…” Shiro smiled softly and nodded, and laid down with Lance. Holding him close, Lance gripped his vest. Shiro closed his eyes, sleeping soundly with dreams of both him and Lance at the beach.

Shiro couldn’t help but wanting to protect Lance more, from her.

Part 1 -> https://bijellyfishy.tumblr.com/post/161494201907/the-son-of-haggar-part-1

Part 2 https://bijellyfishy.tumblr.com/post/161513357287/son-of-haggar-part-2

part 3 https://bijellyfishy.tumblr.com/post/161570670327/son-of-haggar-part-4

The Man in the Tower Part Two (bucky x reader)

Summary: Bucky escapes his handlers and runs through a forest, finding safety in an abandoned tower. What happens when a town girl finds him? Can he trust her enough to finally set foot on ground level again?

Word Count: 1.3K

Warnings: N/A

The Man in the Tower Masterlist

A week had passed since Bucky had found himself in the tower. He’d hardly moved. He hardly slept. He hardly ate or drank anything.  He mostly stayed in the fetal position, scared to move even an inch away from the wall he had placed himself near. The seldom times he had moved from his curled up position, it was to peer cautiously over the ledge from which he had stumbled in. All the time in the world could have passed by him, and still, he would never relax from the fear of having HYDRA trailing behind him. They’d find him. And wipe him just as they had done plenty of times before. He was prone to falling back into his handler’s arms. It’s not as though he mad much choice in the matter. They knew his words. They knew those key phrases to form him into a maniacal machine.

Keep reading

Concept: Mika used to leave things for the livestock children when he was in Sanguinem in between missions.

Not food, because he has no reason to eat, so being caught would incite suspicion. But other stuff- old clothes, blankets, colourful books, essential supplies. Maybe, to prevent vampires from thinking the kids stole stuff from them, he’d tear up some of the blankets then stitch them roughly back together so it looks like something they might have made. I mean, the vampires have way too much stuff anyways, right? He’d sneak out the backways of the castle and into the depths of the human district to hide them where people would find them, then he would work detours into his patrols to make sure that they took them. Maybe he’d get a few odd looks from vampires who saw him toting around some of the items, but they’d probably shrug it off, since Mika was always a bit of a weirdo.

Of course, none of the kids actually knew it was him, because he always made sure nobody saw him so he wouldn’t scare them, or so his old neighbors would reconize him and be horrified by what had happened to him. But maybe he would see some kids with fresher clothes and thicker blankets, and it would make his day a bit better, even if only a little.

Baby Makes Four

Imagine the boys learning that you are expecting.

Relationship: Lovers

Fandom: DC Comics

Character: Roy and Jason

You sat in an examining room waiting for the doctor to come back. You felt a buzz in your pocket and pulled out your cell to see you had gotten a text from Jason asking where you were. You told him the doctor and nothing more, as another text from Jason came through as the doctor walked into the room. You quickly shoved your phone in your pocket and as the doctor started to talk

The talk was short as he handed you the results of the medical test you had him take on you. You sigh as your folded the paper and put it in your purse before heading out of the office. You tried to rack your mind on how to tell both Jason and Roy. You had only gotten back into your hero work a few months again and this was most definitely going to stop all of it. As you got into the car you pulled out your phone to check your text. Both Jason and Roy had sent text after text asking if you were ok. You smiled lightly at the text as you sent back that you were fine and you were going to get takeout for dinner since there was no food in the house.

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anonymous asked:

sick shiro? hell yes. maybe hunk made some space food that actually tastes like something that Shiro really liked at earth so he stuffs his face with it and he realizes too late that this stuffs makes him really nauseous...end off the story Shiro is just really stuffed and nauseous because it really doesn't agree with him and hunk feeling bad tries to comfort and take care of him?

A/N: @bosstoaster for the Shiro hunger headcanons. Plus, I love this pairing, okay?

As the team’s unofficial chef, Hunk is very aware of everyone’s individual eating habits; likes, dislikes, specific allergies, and so forth.

For instance, he knows that Lance won’t touch anything that even remotely resembles a brussels sprout with a twelve-foot pole. He knows Pidge has a quirk about different foods interacting on the same plate; everything has to have its separate, designated space. Keith has to be coaxed, (sometimes forced), into eating even a little breakfast and he blatantly refuses food when he’s anxious before missions.

It took Hunk a little longer with Shiro. The night they had rescued him from the compound he hadn’t realized the extent of the damage; he’d assumed the poor guy was still suffering nasty side effects as a result of being drugged, not to mention starved for over a year.

Hunk had whipped up an impromptu dinner for everyone in Keith’s little shack, taking solace in the comforting sense of control the process of stirring, chopping, and searing had allotted, if only for a fleeting couple of hours.

Long after everyone else had cleaned their plates, Shiro had continued to eat. He’d mechanically shoveled food into his mouth like a ravenous robot, oblivious to his companion’s bafflement. At the time, Hunk hadn’t understood; hadn’t really thought anything of it. He’d seemed hungry, so Hunk had continued to feed him. And Shiro had kept eating. It was the grim concentration that had really freaked Hunk out. Shiro hadn’t enjoyed the food, either. In hindsight, Hunk realized his objective had been to inhale every scrap of nourishment as quickly as possible. He’d quite literally eaten himself sick.

Halfway through his fourth bowl of stew, Shiro had abruptly spun away from the table and vomited it all back up onto the floor, nearly giving Keith a heart attack.

Shiro never talked about his year in captivity. But Hunk was willing to bet his ass that food - if you could call it that - had been scarce and Shiro had been forced to fight for every morsel. He also guessed that prisoners were never fed regularly or sufficiently. Hunk had no idea if humans were even meant to ingest whatever the Galra considered food. It couldn’t have been especially pleasant. He couldn’t imagine forcing yourself to eat for the sole purpose of fighting to stay alive, not knowing when or if you’d ever be fed again. It made his chest ache when he thought about Shiro trapped in such a monstrous hell.

Shiro’s brain had undoubtedly been conditioned to consume every bite of whatever he was given, solely fueled by the most basic human instinct: survival.

Since they’d all been tossed together, Hunk’s taken it upon himself to meticulously monitor Shiro’s meals. The man has absolutely no concept of hunger or the parameters those triggers entail. Essentially, it boils down to making Shiro eat and then ensuring Shiro stops if he’s distracted. Hunk isn’t positive Shiro is ever going to be able to enjoy food like a normal person ever again. That realization makes him incredibly sad.

One of Hunk’s favorite pastimes is cooking for the team, (when Coran hasn’t beaten him to it). He’s grown exceptionally skilled at experimenting with the various foreign ingredients and creating dishes that taste nearly identical to some of his favorite foods back on Earth.

Still, he’s never seen Shiro actually enjoy a meal. Sure, their leader enjoys the company, the camaraderie and routine of sitting down to do something so mundane and familiar in the midst of their crazy lives. But from what Hunk can deduce, Shiro eats because he knows his body requires the nutrients and energy in order to function properly, not because he relishes the flavors or textures of whatever’s placed in front of him.

So the night he makes something vaguely similar to chicken spaghetti, (it’d been a rough mission; Hunk needed comfort food), and presents it to the group, he isn’t surprised when everyone digs in. What does surprise him is Shiro’s reaction after his first bite.

Oh,” Shiro pulls back for a moment, chewing slowly and giving a curious tilt of his head. He swallows, a strange smile playing at the corners of his lips. “This is…”

“Oh,” Hunk echoes, disappointment weighing heavily as his shoulders droop. “You don’t like it.”

Shiro shakes his head, “No, I…this is really good. It tastes like…I don’t know. Something my mom used to make, I think.”

Shiro’s never bothered mentioning his family. The comment sends Hunk sputtering while the other paladins gape at Shiro, noisy sounds of chewing abruptly halting as forks poise listlessly in the air.

“I, uh,” Hunk stammers, still taken aback by Shiro’s compliment. “I was going for chicken spaghetti?”

“Yeah,” Shiro hums after a thoughtful moment before digging into his meal with renewed enthusiasm. “That’s it. That’s what she used to make.”

Shiro moans around another mouthful, closing his eyes as he swallows. “Hunk, this is incredible. I don’t know how you do it.”

Hunk beams with the praise, smiling from ear-to-ear as he watches Shiro reach for the serving bowl to ladle out another helping. He’s eating with gusto, relishing every bite.

“Well, it’s not exactly spaghetti, but I guess it had the general shape,” Hunk chuckles, swirling a bite around his own fork. “So I figured I’d give it a try.”

“It’s awesome, Hunk,” Lance agrees, cheeks ballooning as he struggles to speak through an obscene amount of…space spaghetti?

Shiro nods, barely pausing to breathe as he practically inhales his second plate.

Pidge and Keith contribute their own compliments, quickly finishing their portions and heading to the showers to wash off the day’s grime. Lance lets out an unapologetic, thoroughly satisfied belch before announcing he’s wiped.

“You want some help?” Lance offers lazily, slurring around a sleepy yawn.

Hunk rolls his eyes, “No, no. I’ve got it. You’d only screw up my system, anyway. Yes, there is a system, Lance.” He begins gathering up the empty plates, feeling the grueling exhaustion beginning to take its toll. That’s when he notices that Shiro hasn’t moved. Come to think of it, he hasn’t moved for a good five minutes.

The older boy is hunched over the table, head bowed, arms braced against the surface and hands clenched into tight fists. His eyes are squeezed shut, upper body swaying gently as his throat works with convulsive swallows.

“Shiro?” Hunk frowns, crossing over to place a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Are you all right?”

Shiro jerks upright, blinking at Hunk with hazy, unfocused eyes as his throat bobs with another thick swallow. He’s alarmingly pale, skin clammy with sweat and hair matted to his forehead.

“Yeah,” he pants, tongue slowly licking over his upper lip. “‘M fine. Jus’…just tired.” His slurred words end with an audible shudder that visibly ripples down his spine. His hand strays to hover over his abdomen, lips parting to pant softly as he struggles to stand.

“You sure?” Hunk glares skeptically, keeping his hand on Shiro’s shoulder as he rises. “‘Cause you look kind of -“

Hunk is abruptly cut off by an odd gurgling sound. Shiro’s eyes widen as he frantically presses a fist to his mouth. A wet burp rumbles in his throat, causing his chest to jolt.

Hunk takes an involuntary step back as Shiro cringes, suppressing another deep belch. “Um, Shiro?”

“E-excuse me, I -” Shiro blushes furiously, hand rubbing over his stomach as he takes a few steps away from Hunk. “My stomach feels…sorry. I don’t know what’s -“ he cuts himself off with another gurgly burp, cupping a hand firmly over his mouth before stumbling away from the mess-hall, breaking into an awkward jog. “I’ve..gotta go.”

Baffled, Hunk really has no choice but to follow. Something is seriously wrong and he has the sinking suspicion that it’s his fault.

He catches up easily. Shiro’s hunched over in the hallway, one arm gripping abusively around his stomach and the other bracing his weight against the wall. He’s panting, broad frame jerking with sharp hiccups that he’s obviously desperate to stifle.

Hunk can’t help resting a hand on his friend’s shoulder. Shiro flinches, but doesn’t push him off, just curls in harder on himself.

“You’re sick,” Hunk says matter-of-factly, leaving little room for argument. “You should have said something.”

“I’m not -“ a muffled retch interrupts his protest. Shiro presses his fist against his mouth so hard Hunk’s afraid he’s going to crack his jawbone. “I’m just…so full. I can’t remember ever feeling so…oh, my stomach -“ Shiro’s voice catches on another hiccup and Hunk braces his palm against the other man’s chest, attempting to steady him.

“I know,” he says, voice gentle. “Don’t worry. You’re okay. It was just a little too much, I guess.”

Shiro grunts, trying to detangle himself from Hunk’s grip as another violent gag erupts from his throat. He staggers into the shared bathroom, knees bruising against the floor as he drapes himself over the toilet. He clenches the edges of the bowl, legs writhing as he struggles to regain control of his rebelling body.

“What the hell is - ulp - wrong with me?” Shiro demands, shoulders shuddering brutally as saliva drips over his bottom lip.

Despite his own mounting nausea, Hunk squats down behind the older boy, placing a warm hand against the center of his back. He begins rubbing slow, methodic circles, hoping to help in one way or another. He has no idea what he’s doing, but Shiro isn’t pulling away, so it must be all right.

“Your body isn’t used to so much,” Hunk reasons, wincing sympathetically as Shiro convulses wretchedly at the mention of food. It’s true; he hasn’t seen Shiro eat that much since their first encounter and he feels awful for allowing it to go so far. “I think you may have overdone it a little. I’m sorry. I should have -“

“Don’t be,” Shiro gags, spitting uselessly into the bowl. “Wasn’t your - urp - fault.”

Of course it wasn’t. Nothing is ever anyone’s fault but Shiro’s. Goddammit.

Hunk takes a deep breath through his nose, wrapping his arms in a sturdy embrace around Shiro’s waist as he muffles the shaky words, “Yes it was. Don’t be such a fucking hero.”

It’s angry and stupid and selfish but it gets Shiro’s attention.

Shiro glances up from the bowl, eyes momentarily softening as he regards his friend.

“Hunk,” Shiro barely manages to choke out the name before he’s curling forward with a full-bodied heave, burping up a stream of brown bile. Hunk winces, automatically increasing the pressure of his hand against Shiro’s back. His other unconsciously presses against Shiro’s contracting stomach.

“Don’t worry,” Hunk reassures, tightening his grip as he feels the other boy’s determination waver, muscles bunching and coiling in desperate anticipation. “I’ve got you.”

Hunk feels like his insides are disintegrating when Shiro’s self-control finally gives out, sending him lurching over the bowl with a belching gag that results in a flood of pre-digested liquid spewing from his mouth. Shiro coughs and wheezes, desperate for a breath of air as crippling waves of nausea threaten to suffocate him.

“Take it easy,” Hunk coaches. His nose brushes weakly against Shiro’s right shoulder blade as the older boy hiccups pitifully, grasping onto the supporting arm that Hunk’s encircled around his waist. “Breathe.”

Shiro tries to follow the order and ends up retching, another harsh belch ushering up a watery flood of sick. He slumps over the toilet, panting raggedly as the fit eventually wears off.

Hunk is kind of freaking out. It’s almost as bad as the first time it happened. Except this time, he knows it’s his fault.

Shiro coughs, tainted drool dribbling languidly over his bottom lip as he struggles to regain some semblance of control over his own body. Then his hand strays to Hunk’s, long fingers brushing against his skin.

“Hunk,” he slurs, voice breathless. “Wasn’t you. Stop…stop thinkin’ so hard.”

“W-what?” Hunk stammers, voice catching.

“I can hear you,” Shiro chuckles, a little deliriously as he slumps against Hunk’s chest. “So loud.”

“Well, stop it,” Hunk demands, readjusting Shiro’s weight against him. “It’s weird, okay? Reading people’s thoughts isn’t normal.”

Shiro simply nods, offering a woozy smile as he goes limp against Hunk’s chest, exhaustion sluicing through his body. He slides down onto Hunk’s thigh, nuzzling contentedly as his labored breathing evens out.

“Ah, geez,” Hunk groans. In spite of his initial irritation at being reduced to a human pillow, Hunk continues to drag his fingers over Shiro’s back, humming soothing sounds whenever he stirs.

“You’re all right,” he whispers when Shiro whimpers softly in his sleep. “You’re gonna be all right.”

Kuelap, Peru - The Ancient Cloud Fortress of the Amazonas

The fortress of Kuelap is a walled city associated with the Chachapoyas culture built in 6th century AD. It consists of more than four hundred buildings surrounded by massive exterior stone walls. The complex is situated on a ridge overlooking the Utcubamba Valley in northern Peru at 3000 metres above sea level, judging from its sheer size, Kuelap’s construction required considerable effort, rivaling or surpassing in size other archaeological structures in the Americas. The structure is almost 600 metres in length and its walls rise up to 19 metres in height. There are multiple levels or platforms within the complex. Because of its extension, these flat elevations support about 400 constructions, most of them cylindrical. It could have been built to defend against the Huari or others, but evidence of hostile groups at the site is minimal.
Radiocarbon dating samples show that construction of the structures started in the 6th century AD and the complex was occupied until the Early Colonial period (1532-1570). Through the pre-Columbian, conquest and colonial periods, there are only four brief written references to Kuelap.
It was rediscovered in 1843, when Juan Crisóstomo Nieto, a judge in Chachapoyas, made a survey of the area and took note of Kuelap’s great size; he was guided by villagers who had known of the site for generations. Subsequently, Kuelap gained the attention of explorers, historians and archaeologists.
Regarding the function of Kuelap, there is not a scholarly consensus. Popularly it is thought of as a “fortress”, because of its location and the high walls which support its primary level. Adolf Bandelier and especially Louis Langlois tried to demonstrate that Kuelap might have been a fortified place destined to serve as a refuge for the population in emergency situations. They attributed to it, probably by analogy, the same function as medieval European boroughs.
The high walls that cover the outer surfaces of the platform, and the tightness of the access to the citadel in its final stretch, suggest that the monument of Kuelap could be constructed as having a defensive character, or at least that it provided a refuge that was protected against intruders. It likely also had religious or sacred function.
This way, taking into consideration the function served by the monumental architecture in the Peruvian archaeological past in general, the same one that was related to the socioeconomic needs, it can be concluded that Kuelap could be basically a pre-Inca sanctuary. A powerful aristocracy lived in it, whose primary mission was to administer food production and provide religious leadership. [x]

anonymous asked:

What about Young Anakin and Obi-wan discovering that they're both half-starved, Anakin from slavery and Obi-Wan from thinking food isn't important

To be honest, he had expected it, it was only natural with Anakin coming from such a situation that the boy would be skinnier then the Healers appreciated and he’d get a stern lecture on the dietary needs a boy Anakin’s age should have once he was at a healthy weight.

But first a dietary need to actually gain weight at first was given, a chart of diet plans he would have to ensure Anakin ate with an even spacing of time and snacks were encouraged.

Obi-Wan honestly did not see a problem with getting Anakin to eat as long as he was reminded.

Anakin however had not expected it when the Healers were done with him to basically strong arm Obi-Wan into undressing to his leggings and get him on the scale too.

He had certainly not expected the poking ribs of the older Jedi despite the layers of muscle he could see in the others arms as Obi-Wan argued that he was eating just fine and would the healer please stop poking at him.

“You’re really thin.” He offered up from his seat on the examination bed, eyes wide in surprise even as he held the fruit leather he had been given as a form for reward.

That got Obi-Wan’s complaints silent as he looked to Anakin in surprise, his eyes equally wide. “I-I’m n-”

“Your ribs are poking out like moms did during bad periods.” Anakin pointed out. “And that only happened because she was making sure I went to bed fuller then her.”

Obi-Wan went a bit silent, shifting a bit on the scale as he allowed the Healer to finally do their job.

“Why are you so thin? Are all Jedi starved?” Anakin’s eyes were wide.

The Healer gave Obi-Wan a long look then stepped back and crossed his arms. “Well Kenobi?”

“…I’m not having this conversation in front of you.” He glared at the healer then looked at Anakin, softening his face. “We can talk about it back at our quarters Anakin, but to start off, no, not everyone is like me, its…we can speak about it in our quarters. I promise.”

The blond hesitated then gave a slow nod.

Obviously it wasn’t normal for Jedi to be like Obi-Wan was.

That was…worrying.

Was the other sick?

He was pale and thin but he didn’t seem sick beyond that.

And being pale seemed to be a natural state for Obi-Wan along with freckles covering him everywhere so Obi-Wan was…was…what?

He bit his lower lip and twisted his hands in his lap.

He’d have to wait and hear once they were in their quarters, it was clear Obi-Wan didn’t want to talk about it with the healer around, not that Anakin blamed him.

Eventually they got to go and Obi-Wan gave a relieved sigh and settled his hand on his padawans shoulder. “…I dislike being in the Healer halls, I once spent a full month here after I contracted Twi’lek mun fever. Couldn’t walk at all, needed help to…everything really because I couldn’t grip with my hands properly.” He offered.

Anakin stared up at him at that. “…That sounds horrible.”

“It was.” Obi-Wan gave him a crooked smile that drew out his dimples. “I’ve had a dislike of medical areas since then, I prefer dealing with my injuries myself if I can.” He breathed out as he guided Anakin along to their quarters.

He soon had Anakin in their quarters and making a pot of tea for both of them.

“…I think the best explanation is that I forget.” Obi-Wan started. “It sounds strange to you but…I forget because I don’t prioritize myself as I should.” He shifted the cup in his hands and glanced at Anakin.

He wasn’t sure how to explain to Anakin that the way he had been raised had contributed to a few deficiencies in his personality…nor how not to taint Qui-Gon’s memory.

“You…oh…that’s weird.” Anakin looked down at his half full cup then back up at Obi-Wan when the other chuckled. “What?”

“You’ve never been so hungry you eventually forgot you were?” The older man questioned gently.

“…Oh.” Anakin seemed to understand then leaned a bit. “But then you get really hungry after, right?”

“Yes but when I get hungry there’s sometimes no food on missions. I sometimes forget. Or I’ve lost my pack so I don’t have even ration bars.” He explained gently. “But don’t worry. I’ll make sure you gain the weight you’re suppose to do.”

“…I guess then I have to make sure you gain the weight you need.” Anakin said, tone firm. “Someone has to look after you too.” He smiled up at him.

That got a blink out of Obi-Wan. “Anak-”

“Someone has to look after you too Master. I guess that means me, we can look after each other.” The blond was beaming now.

A tiny breathless laugh escaped Obi-Wan. “…I guess it is. We’ll look after each other then.” He agreed gently, chucking faintly when Anakin basically bounced on the seat cushion.

The only acceptable use for chopped/powdered tea leaves (+bonus)

Q wakes, sore in the most gorgeous way.  His ear feels bent from resting on Bond’s shoulder all night; the fingerprint-shaped bruises on his hips call the press of his own against their shape.  Bond is snoring, and that in itself is flattering: Bond–James–sprawled like a starfish in the bed, so unconcerned for his own safety.  There are weapons within a hand’s range of the bed, he’s sure, but Bond’s palms lay curled where Q’s head had been, draped over the dent left by Q’s hip in the feather coverlet.  Q staggers on coltish legs just this side of achy–they burn in the pleasant memory of stretching just a bit past their limit as Bond held him open and–a delicious shiver works its way through him.

Bond’s kitchen is spartan.  There’s not a lot beyond the staples in the fridge–a little cream for coffee, cocktail onions–and the cabinets are nearly bare, as well.  A sad box of Twinings and sugar, some flour and the usual spices; there’s butter and eggs on the counter, and Q’s not surprised to find takeaway menus in the drawer by the fridge.  A thought occurs–grabbing the necessaries, it’s a matter of moments to whip up a treat, and scarcely ten minutes later he’s sneaking back into bed.  Cooking can happen later.

–The Recipe–

Tea Shortbreads

  • 4 tea bags or 2T tea, any flavour (Earl Grey is good, as are chais and other strongly-flavoured black teas)
  • 250g or 2 c plain flour
  • large pinch of salt
  • 60g or 1/3 c sugar
  • 225g or 1 c butter
  • orange zest, vanilla, or other flavourings to complement your tea, if desired
  1. Mix tea, flour, and salt with a whisk or sift together.
  2. Mix butter, sugar, and flavoring with a whisk or electric mixer until light and airy
  3. Add dry ingredients to wet and fold until just combined
  4. Portion dough into logs and wrap with baking paper or wax paper.  Freeze until firm.
  5. Preheat oven to 176 C or 350 F 
  6. Slice into disks .5 cm or ¼ in.
  7. Bake until just barely golden at the edges (about 12-15 minutes)
  8. Let cool completely before removing from the pan or they will crumble

The bed is still warm when Bond wakes, for all that he’s alone in it.  In the other room–probably the kitchen, Bond presumes–he can hear Q pottering about, humming tunelessly, and yes, the kettle Bond has more because he’s British than out of any particularly keen like for tea is burbling away.  There’s a rich, nutty smell in the air, and when he finally manages to get his pants on and wander out, the Waitrose bag on the counter belies the cheeky nymph wearing nothing but an apron.  There are tomatoes on the cutting board and sausages waiting patiently for frying, corners of toast standing dripping golden butter, and a veritable mountain of little biscuit coins that smell rich and buttery and sharp with bergamot.

“You’ve been busy this morning,” Bond says, and Q’s laugh is bright.

“Your cabinets looked like a uni student’s.  I was surprised not to find curry beanz and cup noodle,” Q scolds with sparkling eyes.

“Are you looking to fatten me up?”  Bond grins, snagging a tomato slice and popping it into his mouth before Q can threaten him with his paring knife.  Q snorts.

“Who says you’re getting any of it, you lieabed?  I’ve already been to the shops and back and you’re only now getting up at the crack of ten!”

Bond’s laugh stirs the curls at the nape of Q’s neck as he wraps himself around him.  Q is a lithe furnace against Bond’s front; he goes for another tomato and Q sighs, put upon.  “Let me spoil you, then–I’ll take it from here.”

It’s a favourite, something he always has at hand.  It’s after-mission food for when he’s looking for familiar, for cozy.  He’s never had someone over in the morning to make it for–a frission of something that hasn’t shaped itself yet dances up his spine and Bond coughs, fetching out the saucepan and turning on the hob before he can do something ridiculous like asking Q to stay for breakfast tomorrow, too.

He could do this in his sleep: a knob of butter, chilled from the fridge, and Bond casts a gimlet eye at Q for using the whole dish from the counter, though honestly it doesn’t matter whether it’s soft or not.  He drops the butter into the saucepan to melt and checks again the heat is set to low.  Then eggs: two for each of them, whole in the pot.  He beats them into the butter and when they’re starting to thicken, he pulls the pot from the stove to even out the lumps.  Back onto the hob, he stirs until it curdles, lumps of scrambled egg forming beneath his spatula.  Off the heat again, then when it’s even and creamy again, back on.  He does this again until the egg is cooked through, then just a splash of cream–back on the hob until the chill is off–and salt, pepper.  He dishes it up with a flair.

He ends up watching with bated breath as Q takes his first bite, grinning helplessly at the groan that follows.  It’s breakfast.  Just breakfast: eggs and tomatoes and toast and tea.

It’s still somehow more than breakfast.  Bond wipes a stray smear of egg from Q’s lip and Q smiles.

A Web Hammock?

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!reader 

Summary: Peter has a surprise for you, as well as a confession. 

A/N: Hello!! This is Part 3/? of the Close As Strangers series, but can also low key be a stand alone lol. This chapter is extremely angsty, hope you enjoy!!! 

Close As Strangers Pt: 2 - Falling For You (literally)

You were following Peter to his next surprise and you couldn’t be anymore nervous but excited at the same time. The cool night air was blowing against your face as you were being pulled by Peter to a seemingly familiar destination. A few minutes later you were at the back lot of Stark Industries. “Peter, what are we doing here?” Peter then went behind you and put a blindfold over your eyes. “Peter…what are going to do to me. Please don’t lead me into an underground strip club, or worse another disco skating rink.” “An underground strip club at Stark Industries? Really?” “How would I know?! People unwind in different ways, don’t judge.” “It’s not a secret super soldier filled strip club don’t worry.” “You didn’t deny the disco themed skating rink, I’m not ready to fall flat on my face again, Parker” “Can you just stop with the questions for a few more seconds, we’re almost there.” “But-” You suddenly felt Peter lifting off your blindfold.

All of a sudden, you were faced with a giant hammock looking thing that was dangling in mid air spread across a tiny portion of the back lot. “Ta-da!” “What is it?” “It’s a web hammock!” Peter said proudly as he carrying you onto it. “A web hammock? Aren’t we going to fall through?” “Yes a web hammock, I feel like we’ve exhausted the term now. And no, well at least not until the web fluid dissolves.” “And that’s for what, 2 hours?” “Exactly, so now lay on your back and enjoy my hard work while it lasts” “Okay one more question, Parker” “Yeah?” “Why a web hammock?” “Well I know how much you love the night sky, I thought we could go star-gazing tonight.” Stargazing? Really? He has you wrapped around his finger with all these gestures he’s been making lately, and he doesn’t even know it. 

You don’t really remember if  there was a specific moment that made you like Peter in that way. Maybe it was the time the two of you were doing homework in his bedroom and you just kinda looked up and you saw him working, his nose was scrunched up from concentrating and his hair was a mess from him combing his hands through it over and over again. 

 You looked at him longer than usual and you were just overcome by a wave of emotions. You were suddenly aware of your feelings for Peter. You’ve loved him for a long time, there’s no doubt about that, he was your best friend. But that one afternoon suddenly changed everything for you. You suddenly realized that Peter did things for you that he never did for anyone else. 

He would call you early in the morning to wake you up if he knew you had something important to get to. He would text you every few hours when you’re up studying to make sure you’re still drinking water and eating on time so you don’t pass out, and if he found out you hadn’t, he’d be by your side within a few minutes with a huge  bag of food.  After missions he’d sneak up to your room and talk to you about his day and all the cool new things he’s been doing.

It wasn’t just those big things that he did for you or with you, it was also in all the little things. Just how he’d remember to watch that movie  you recommended. How he’d reach over to your hand to hold it if he knew you were anxious. How he’d wiggle his eyebrows at you to make you laugh when he sees you frowning, or how he’d send you pictures of dogs he sees on the streets cause he knows that’ll make you happy.  It was the way he talked to you about anything and everything, and how he would trust you with his life.   

And now you were laying down on a web hammock, dangling in mid air, facing the boy you’re were so in love with, thinking about how lucky you were to have Peter in your life. But still, there was this pinching feeling in your heart, because you knew you were too scared to admit to Peter that you’re in love with him. But maybe, just maybe, you were ready to confess, to just tell him you  like him. There was this tiny part of you that was willing to jeopardize everything, knowing that he doesn’t feel the same way about you, rather than to keep on being stuck in a state of uncertainty, just waiting for that one day that Peter might look at you the same way. Maybe if you just confessed, you wouldn’t feel as heartbroken.

But for now you were still on a high from today’s events.You two had been on your backs looking at the night sky silently for what felt like forever now. A little while later, Peter turned to his side to face you, and you did the same. Now you were both just looking at each other. You could just grab his face right now and kiss him, at least if you did that, you’d finally get out of your crush limbo and enter the world of possible rejection.

But then Peter broke the silence between you two. “So…” He said smiling. “So…” I said returning his smile. “Did you have fun today?” Peter asked nudging me a bit. “Yeah, I really did, even if I did almost die.” You said smirking at him.

“Okay you said you were fine, and the only thing that happened to you today was being blown away by my amazing ability to dance while on roller skates.” “Mhmm, definitely that and not this.” You said pointing at you’re now extremely purple bruise.

“I’m sorry again.” “It’s fine. Although, you did prove me wrong, Parker.” “How so?” “You really do know how to have fun.” I said quietly. “Hmm what did you say?” Peter said in shock but laughing at the same time.“You heard what I said.” “Yeah, I just want to hear it again. It’s not everyday you hear a Stark admit to being proven wrong.” “Hey!” I said slapping his arm. “Aw come on” “Okay. You know how to have fun…” you say reluctantly, as you both break into laughter.  

There was a short silence between us again, but then Peter started talking.

“Hey Y/N…” “Yeah?” “Thanks for coming along today.” “No problem, Peter.” “So…there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you” “And what’s that?” “Well it’s about a girl…” You felt your heart suddenly beat quicker. You needed to look calm and make it seem that everything was fine and that you were okay and totally not against Peter having a crush. You had to be the supportive friend that you were.

“Ooh a girl, do I know who she is?” you said poking Peter’s side. “Uhh I think you do, well the thing is I really like her…” your breath hitched, not knowing what else to do. In the long time you’ve been friends with Peter, he has never gone to you like this to talk about a girl, it had always been just something in passing. But right now Peter was more serious than usual.

“…she’s so gorgeous, and smart, and funny, and talented, and whenever I see her I feel like I can’t breathe.” “Wow, Parker, you must really like this girl huh?.” There was this little, well big part of you hoping that Peter was actually referring to you. “So who is she?” you asked a little too eagerly. “It’s Liz…” 

And just like that a million thoughts were going through your mind. You felt like you couldn’t breathe. Peter kept talking about her and you think he mentioned something about asking her out soon, and that he’s telling you about her now because he wanted to go to you for advice. He’s talking so quickly now but you can’t help but to just nod along and smile.

You don’t remember how you got back to your bedroom, all you know is that Peter brought you back, but you felt so desensitized that you forgot everything else. You didn’t know how or what to feel. “How could you feel heartbroken from something that never was?”, you thought to yourself. Now you were just tired, you were tired of hoping, and waiting around. Peter’s confession is enough of a reason for you to start over, and to move on from your doomed crush. He likes Liz. But Peter was still your best friend, that was all that mattered.


I recently watched ‘My Sisters Keeper’ for the second time and got inspired to create this imagine. I’m sorry I’ve been so inactive but I’ve just had no drive to write. It usually comes and goes. 

This happens all the time. I have these periods when I don’t want to write even though I have all these ideas, and then I have these periods when I just can’t wait to get home and start typing. But I’ll get back into it. 

I really need to begin on my request’s though. I have so many but I just haven’t been bothered to finish. I KNOW! I’m terrible :( And lazy….

But anyways, lets get to this imagine.

Originally posted by moan-s

Her eyes, dark, painful, and slowly fading of light, noticeably glared directly towards the glass of goodness in my hand. The liquid inside, dark and steaming with heat, sloshed about as my body stifled around, and I couldn’t help but feel slightly bad for the girl eyeing it down.

“Want a sip?” 

Without warning, Kennedy’s eyes trembled away from the cup gripped firmly between my fingers and right towards my face evident with amusement. The poor girl had become so embarrassed, her cheeks - once pale and scabby - seemingly flushed red as she hung her head low. 

I chuckled “What?” Her reaction was rather odd.

“You know mom doesn’t like me drinking that stuff.” She frowned. 

At the words, my eyes rolled back far behind my lids, a sigh of annoyance leaving my lips. My mother was becoming increasingly annoying with every day that passed by. 

Ever since Kennedy was sadly diagnosed with Leukemia, my mother has made it her mission to restrict any foods that weren’t nutritional or just fatty in general. Everything was organic, everything was fresh and nothing was enjoyable. 

You would think now that my sister is dying, she’d have a chance to enjoy the small things in life, but instead - it’s become her worst nightmare. And she’s been restricted to a strict, healthy diet.

“Oh C’mon Ken, It’s just a sip of wine.” I grinned. “Besides Mom Isn’t here to see anyways.”

But she still seemed unsure. And I sighed. “Kennedy, It’s not going to kill you. You’re allowed to drink.”

“I know.” She said. “But knowing mom, she’ll find out one way or another and then you’ll get in trouble. And I don’t want that.”

My eyes, just mere seconds ago hard and filled to the brim with annoyance, suddenly fell into one of sincere pain, a smile of sadness reaching the corners of my lips. 

The girl in front me really didn’t deserve the pain and suffering she’s gone through. So innocent and young. Only eighteen for Gods sake! And If I could change anything, I would gladly reverse roles with her in a heart beat. 

But here she was, slowly withering away on this hospital bed, glaring out the same window with no ability to physically get up. Multiple needles and hoses penetrated her body, all leading off onto some sourceful machine barely keeping her alive.

Oh kennedy. 

“Stop being so selfless Ken! You’re the one who should be sporting all the attention, not me. Just taste it.” My hand quickly extended out to her mouth and she eyed the glass cautiously.

“How do they even let you bring that in here?” She grimaced. 

I smirked. “Twelve years of hospitals and talking to the same nurses everyday, I  managed to pull some strings. It was true. It’d been twelve years since Kennedy was diagnosed which means twelve years seeing the nurses. They’ve come to like me after a while.

With one more glance my way, she slowly took the glass out of my hand and took a small sip, and I watched in amusement as her face twisted into one of delight.

“You like it?” 

“It’s kind of weird.” She replied. “But yeah. It’s bitter.” 

I chuckled. “Have more.” 

And she did, all until we heard the click of a door and heard soft murmurs slowly beginning to drown the room. My hand immediately shot out towards Kennedy and her’s did the same, handing me the glass with a speed so quick we had managed to spill a bit amongst the floor.

I sat back, quickly trying to compose myself as Kennedy proceeded to swallow the wine and wipe her mouth of any evidence. Just in time as well, for then, my mom and Aunt Nat forward into the room. 

“Hey girls.” Mom spoke with a quiet tone. “I’ve gotta go pick your brother up from school but Aunt Nat’ll be here. Be back soon.” 

With a nod, we both mumbled a chorus of “Bye mom”s, and soon she was gone. 

Aunt Nat smiled wide, strutting over to the couch besides me with a kick in her step. She wasn’t quite and Aunty to me - although she was the mother of my sister. She was merely only a few years older at 25 and almost like a second sister to us both. 

Chill and layback - that was her style.

“What are y’all up to?” She smirked. 

With a quick glance at Kennedy, her doing the same, we smiled cheekily to each other. “Nothing.” We both said. 

“Nothing?” Nat smirked. “Well the wine on your bedsheets don’t say nothing but then again, neither do I.”

 I smiled, of course she wouldn’t tell our mother. She always stuck up for us. 

“Alright Girls.” Aunt Nat yelled with the clap of her hand. “It’s gossip time!” 

And we chuckled. “What’s the news today?” She asked. 

Glancing over at my sister, I watched with sluggish eyes as she shrugged her shoulders, grimacing slightly at the likely pain caused from the simple action. It made me sad to see such a small gesture hurt someone so undeserving but other then sad, I was feeling quite nervous. 

Boy did I have some news, but I was not at all ready to share it.

“Y/N.” Nat spoke with a cautious tone, her voice questioning and suspicious. “Why are you nervous, hm?”

No reply.

“Y/N?” Nat raised a brow. 

“It probably has something to do with her boyfriend.” Kennedy smirked, throwing me a joyful face. 

Aunt Nat grinned. “You mean that hottie of a superstar she managed to pick up? Girl you better start talking!”

I chuckled at the two wemon in front of me, shaking my head with disbelief at my crazy excuse of a prying family. “Oh jeez.” I muttered. 

“You know, It’s probably nothing.” Kennedy shrugged, though I caught her sneakily sparing a glance in my direction. It was obvious she was trying to annoy me, or attempt to shame me enough into proving her wrong and spilling my news. 

But it wasn’t working. Not this time. 

“I mean, they’ve been going out for three months and the most they’ve done is swap spit.” She rolled her eyes. 

Aunt Nat gasped. “Wait, you’re still a virgin?!” 

Oh God. This is not going well. Once again, I stayed silent. 

“Yep!” Kennedy smirked. “She’s a twenty one year old virgin, right Y/N?.” 

It hadn’t bothered me much that she was making fun of me for it, and trying to get me to admit to the title. We did it often - her teasing me for having not popped my cherry yet. Though I don’t see what she was so snobby about, she hadn’t also.

Though this time, I said nothing. No joking along, no agreeing. Just silence and an innocent glance at the ground. 

Kennedy’s smile dropped. “Right Y/N?” 

Still nothing.

“Why aren’t you agreeing?” She frowned. 

“Wait!” Nat suddenly yelled. “Wait-wait-wait just a second!” She sang. “I know that look anywhere! It’s the same look I gave your mom years ago! Your not a virgin anymore!” 

My eyes widened. How did she-?

“Oh my GOD Y/n! When?” She continued. 

A slow but evident blush began creeping up my face, and with a shy and nervous gulp, I answered. “Last night.”

Kennedy gasped. “And you didn’t tell me?!”

“Tell us what happened!” Aunt nat yelled with excitment, I cringed. “No.” I exasperatedly replied. “I’m not telling you about my sex life.” 

But this time, it was Kennedy who spoke. “Please Y/N.” She begged. “I’m probably never gonna be able to experience it for myself. At least tell me what it’s like.” 

Ugh! Shes so good at guilt tripping! Damn her …

I was hesitant, all soughts of thoughts passing through my mind. Should I? “Ugh, fine. Only for you.”

Aunt Nat squealed “Give us all the details! How long was he?” 

At the thought my eyes widened. “Oh my god.” I sighed to myself. “H-He was… Wow. I didn’t think he was that big.” I answered. As representation, I raised my arms and spread my hands around 7 inches apart. “It was like - this big and-”

But Nat frantically shook her head and interrupted. “No Boo, I meant how long did he last. Not that. TMI.” She cringed.

I blushed. “Oh.” Then chuckled nervously. “Right, yeah - well. He lasted a pretty decent amount of time actually. I couldn’t keep up. I mean, I came first the first time. Then he came the second time. Then it was him again, then me-”

“There was more then one round?!” Nat gasped. 


“Shit! Good looking and lasts in bed? Get you a man that can do both.” She laughed.

“Alright ‘nough dirty stuff.” Kennedy shook her head with a chuckle. “Tell us - how was it?”

And that’s when I finally allowed myself to relax. Reminiscing on all the events of last night and the heavenly feelings Justin brought me. His touch, his body, everything was just so amazingly perfect. 

So sensual and gentle, but all to my desires. He made me feel like a queen - like I deserved every bit of love he had for me. And he showed me all that love last night in the many, many rounds of sex we encountered. 

I had never thought such a simple and casual thing could ever feel so amazing and desirable. Maybe is was just a result of my first, but I doubt that much desire and love for the man I had wouldn’t have an effect on the pleasure he brought.

“It was the best night of my life. He was so gentle. So loving. Everything was so perfect and Oh Jesus, it was the best feeling I’d ever had.”

I smiled at the memories “He surprised me with dinner then took me to a hotel afterwards. He got the staff to set the mood and asked me if I wanted to. And that if I didn’t he wouldn’t mind just cuddling with me. But I’m so happy I said yes. Everything was amazing. He made sure it was just how I liked it - my own pace.” 

J-Justin.” it escaped so breathy, so low and so lovingly. He lay on top of me, supported by nothing by his elbows on either side of my face. The pressure between my legs was becoming increasingly more painful the more he slid in, and I really couldn’t withhold the small whimper of pain which escaped. 

“Baby is it hurting? Shit I’m sorry - should I stop?” He frantically questioned. 

My eyes widened, and I said all too fast. “No! No no, i’m fine. Don’t stop. I like it.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yes.” I nodded, and as assurance, I placed my hands against his bare back, gripping his skin to pull him further forwards. With a nod he was continuing his journey inside me.

Sliding against my wetness with a strained face full of pleasure. 

“Fuck Justin baby your so big.” I groaned. It was either that or I really wasn’t used to this. Maybe both.

“Shit baby girl, you’re so tight.” He groaned.

My eyes shot open in worry Is that a bad thing?” I trembled. 

At my expression he was quick to shake his head. “No no baby, It’s good. It means more work and more pleasure. For me and you.” One hand was sent to stroke against my face, which I couldnt’ help but lean into.

I hadn’t realised but he was now fully inside me, sitting firmly in position. But I wasn’t satisfied yet. I wanted more. “I’m ready.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yes Justin. Move please baby!”

And at this, he smirked. “Your wish is my command.” With a chaste kiss on my lips, he slowly began to pull out, only to begin sliding back in. Then again, and again.

What was this feeling? And why did it feel so good?

“Shit.” Aunt Nat sighed. “I want a Justin.” 

“I want to meet him.” Kennedy sighed. “When can I?” 

“I already told you babe, Justin’s a busy man. He’ll come when he’s free but i wouldn’t hope too soon. I doubt his free for a while.”

“Wouldn’t be too sure.” 

The voice had us all spinning in our seats, eyes wide with shock. He was here. He was really here.

“Oh my god!” Kennedy gasped. “I-It’s you!”

“Of course.” Justin smiled. With a few steps, he was standing directly besides Kennedy’s bed, placing a small but sweet kiss against her dry forehead with a smile. “Aren’t you just beautiful.” 

Kennedy blushed. “Not really.” 

“What do you mean not really? You’re absolutely stunning! From a distance I thought you were a model and I was like to myself ‘Who is that? What runway show have I seen her from?’ but when I got closer I realised that It was just my beautiful girlfriend’s beautiful sister.”

She smiled, and I couldn’t help but smile as well. He was amazing at this. 

Thats when a sudden voice was heard from besides, nearly shocking me to the after life, right out of my state of entrancement amongst my boyfriend. 

“You picked a good one.” Aunt Nat whispered. 

“I did, didn’t I?” 

“he’s a real gentleman.”

“In my books, if a man can my sister smile then he’s a keeper.” I stated. 

Aunt Nat smiled. “Well, guess he’s a keeper then.” 

Yes. I guess he is.

Ficlet: Basic Maneuvers

Summary: Hunk said in S3E1 that Shiro taught him everything he knows about being a pilot. Hence, this. (Plus, y’know, feels.)

They had been outside the castle two hours before Hunk even noticed the time. “Whoa! It’s eleven already? We’ve been at this all morning.”

"Hm. Hadn’t noticed.” Shiro focused on Yellow’s scanners.  "Hit the thrusters on your starboard to send Yellow into a barrel roll.“

Hunk listened, though muttered through the smooth motion, “Shiro, you’ve got to have better things to do on the fifth quintant of the spicolian movement than teach me new maneuvers.”

Keep reading

Yasmine Hearts (Part1)

“A month-long ‘excursion?’ An excursion is a vacation, what you’re sending me on is a job errand.” Draco whined, glaring at his boss with the trademark Malfoy look, but at this point, the wizened old man just pushed through it with patience.

“Call it whatever you’d like, Dr. Malfoy, but I trust no one else with this job.” Dr. Ulfric, the lead Healer of the hospital, assured him which seemed to calm Draco down slightly. He pushed while he had the advantage. “You’ll be getting paid the entire time you’re out there. Twenty four hours a day, instead of the ten hours a day you put in while you’re here. Decent money and you get to lay around and enjoy the wilderness most of your time. You won’t even be handling the herbalism aspect, just the brewing.” Draco simpered down, nodding slowly. While he never really enjoyed the mess of the wilderness, he knew this would be a good thing. He had been trying to save up money to get his mother a nice birthday present anyway.

After the war, the Malfoy family had everything they owned taken away but a small portion and even had the house repossessed. With Lucius skirted off to jail, Narcissa had used the last of her money to rent out a decent sized apartment and now worked in a nice bookstore to pay her bills. Draco continued going to school to become a Potions Master, as well as taking a few classes to become a decent healer. He was quickly hired on by Dr. Ulfric, a wise older man who understood that your family did not necessarily mean you, and the man had been kind enough to take Draco under his wing. He’s worked in this hospital for a few years now and had enjoyed every moment of his mundane, if lonely, life.

Draco reluctantly agreed to the assignment, signing forms and learning about what he was supposed to do, in basic details. “The ins and outs of everything will be explained with our herbalist before you leave. Then, you’ll meet the herbalist that will be accompanying you in this assignment, and you will have a week to prepare for the journey. You leave next Friday.” Draco nodded along, already thinking up a list of things he’ll need to bring, or people to inform.

The next few days included packing, writing letters, and informing his mother and best friend Pansy of what was to come. The Wednesday before they left, Draco met up with the lead herbalist; a man he once knew before in high school and had made up with. Neville Longbottom. The man began explaining everything:

“The potion you are to make is crucial in the recovery of many victims, it is the strongest healing potion we have ever found. It’s called the Everlight potion. Now, to make it, most everything about it is simple. It requires the necessary ingredients and preparations for making a typical healing potion, but one special component must be added. This is the herb of light, or the Yasmine heart bulb. This herb only grows atop a forested ground where two magical ley lines cross. However, the herb only flourishes if it is able to take in every ounce of magic it can. The herb only grows in bundles of five at a time, once a week, for only one month out of each year. It can only be added to the potion within the bubble of the ley lines, otherwise, it immediately loses its magical qualities and does nothing for the healing potion. It cannot be stasised, it cannot be stored. Once you have the herb, you must split the bulb, take the inside and crush it, then chop it and add it into the boiling liquid in the last stage of the healing potion, and let that boil for twelve hours straight.

Now, the dangers of such an herb. Because of what I said before, about it sucking in every ounce of magic in the vicinity, you will have to have a special shield placed upon your magical core. This will protect every ounce of magic you have, but at the same time, it will make it so you cannot use any of it as well. You’ll be living like a squib for the entire month. Now, don’t worry about anything of that nature. I have my herbalist out there now, and he will take care of you both while you are on this mission, with food and heat and whatnot. All you have to worry about is creating the potion. That’s all you’re needed for. You have to do this right.”

Draco nodded along with Neville, wincing slightly at the mention of no magic, but taking it in stride. If that was what needed to be done, then he would do it. “Alright. I got it all.”

“I have some notes, instructions and everything you’ll need already at the cabin. I hope you enjoy your trip.” Neville turns back to his desk, biting his lip nervously as Draco eyed him. They stood that way for a moment before Neville lifted his gaze, taking in the form of Draco still standing in his office. “Was there anything else?”

“Yes, just one thing…” Draco mumbled, narrowing his eyes and pursing his lips slightly before walking forward and placing his hands onto Neville’s desk, leaning forward onto his hands. “Who is this special herbalist that will be living with me for a month?”


“Pansy!” Draco’s yell filled the apartment as he came slamming inside, hanging his coat on the nearby rack and storming into the living room of their shared apartment.

“Yes, darling?” Pansy called out from her position on the couch where she sat reading a magazine. She glanced up, smiling and fluttering her eyelashes around, acting innocent.

“I’m not even going to bother asking what you did,” Draco said, pointing a finger at her, and walking in front of the couch, beginning to pace. This only proved to make her curious as she immediately threw the magazine down, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees as she widened her eyes.

“Oh, this sounds interesting. Tell me everything.” She purred out, and Draco had to roll his eyes before launching into his explanation.

“Harry bloody Potter, can you believe it? None of them had wanted to tell me, or warn me beforehand! Dr. Ulfric knew, but had tried to get me to sign the contract before even mentioning it was him if he was going to! I had to find out from Neville. Neville Longbottom.” He scoffed, throwing his hands into the air. “I’m going to be in the middle of the woods trapped with Harry bloody Potter. For a month! Plenty of time for him to murder me and find a suitable place to hide all evidence. Pansy, what am I going to do?”

“I think I know what you’re going to do,” Pansy mumbled, glancing away and raising her eyebrows.

“What was that?” Draco snapped out, pausing in his pacing and narrowing his eyes at her. She raised her hands in surrender before he just huffed and continued. “I guess I’ll just stay secluded in my room then, whenever I’m not working on my potion. I’ll bring a book.” He paused, hesitating before continuing, “I’ll bring a few books.”

“Darling, why don’t you just talk to him? Reconcile?” Pansy suggested unhelpfully, causing Draco to roll his eyes.

“We hated each other in school. I bullied him and his friends constantly. It’s not about the war, everything is fine on that front as far as I know. He just thinks I’m a horrible person. And I’m not the kind of person to try to prove myself to anyone.” Draco murmured, shaking his head at the idea. “No, if he wants to reconcile, then he can start it all. Otherwise, it’ll just be us ignoring each other as much as possible.” Pansy rolled her eyes in response, though began helping him pick out books to read for the journey.


Draco stood under the magical archway as three wizards surrounded him, chanting and waving their wands as they completed the ritual. Draco felt a tug in his stomach, a sense of uneasiness, then a massive wave of nausea before he bent over in pain. He felt wrong, he felt uneven, and knew that part of himself was now locked away tightly without any way of reaching it. He wanted it back right now, he wanted to be able to feel his magic coursing through him again. He felt sick in a different way, knowing that he had just locked away something so important and beautiful in his life, but pushed through it knowing that everything he was doing was to protect it from harm. Draco had almost fallen forward as another wave passed through him, his body adjusting to the new form of living without his magic, but a strong pair of arms caught him before he had hit the ground.

“Be careful there,” A voice whispered, a low but secure one that felt reassuring, “These old wizards, they don’t care how you feel. They don’t understand since they’ve never been through it themselves. Just take some deep breaths, remember to breathe. It feels bad now but it’ll settle and you’ll get used to it.”

A part of Draco didn’t want to get used to it, but he couldn’t voice his concerns as he took deep breaths to steady himself as the voice had said. It took a moment before he could open his eyes and readjust himself to the surrounding camp, the old wizards now huddled together and whispering to one another. Draco slowly straightened, taking another deep breath before glancing up to view who had caught him.

And his heart stopped once his eyes landed on Harry Potter. He was much older than Draco remembered, though that shouldn’t have been surprising since they hadn’t actually seen each other in a few years. Harry’s face was shaved clean, though a small buzz of a five o’clock shadow grazed his face. His muscles were toned, straining under a lightweight black t-shirt, and his hair had grown a bit longer than he remembered, the mess of curls pulled back into a bun behind his head. His eyes looked weary and almost sad as he gazed down at Draco, probably thinking of his own core that had to be locked away for their trip. For a moment, Draco felt a pang of sympathy for the man who had to spend a few more months like this then he did. But it was soon replaced with the knowledge that he found Harry attractive, and perhaps they were standing maybe a bit too close together. Draco cleared his throat awkwardly, taking a few steps back from Harry.

“Thank you,” Draco whispered, nodding toward Harry but keeping his eyes away from the now fit boy. In all of his preparations, he hadn’t planned that Harry would look that good. It certainly didn’t change anything, though Draco hated the flustered feeling he had now when he looked at the boy. He felt unprofessional, which only proved to frustrate him since they were doing this for a job.

“Alright boys, our work is done here. We’ll pack up and leave, you all can begin your walk to the worksite.” The wizard that had initially told Draco what to do and where to stand when he first arrived here via portkey had spoken up again, and Draco nodded slightly before furrowing his brow.

“Walk there?” He asked, glancing up with questions in his gaze.

“Of course Malfoy. Can’t exactly apparate there, considering our lack of magic.” Harry mumbled with a smirk, walking over to grab a large pack and sling it over his shoulders. Draco swallowed, glancing away and shaking his head.

“There’s no other way to get there? By broom? By that muggle deathtrap of a vehicle?”

“A car?” Harry asked with disbelief in his voice, before shaking his head and walking up closer to Draco. “No, Malfoy. For the Yasmine heart to grow it must be surrounded by wilderness and wildlife. No man-made roads anywhere nearby. And brooms would immediately lose any magical qualities it has stored the moment it enters the bubble of the ley lines.” Harry thrust a slightly smaller, but not by much, pack into Draco’s chest causing him to cough slightly. “We have to walk.”

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