gatorade-me

Richonne(A dark skin reflection)

If you follow me, or have seen my posts, you know I am super Richonne affiliated. Why? I just love them. Not only do I love the characters, but the actors who portray the ship, Andrew Lincoln and Danai Gurira, do so perfectly.

But why do I just love them? It’s more than the trope of, “I am a dark skinned woman, thus I love this pairing because of that.” I love this pairing because of it’s bravery. Even in this modern world, others still can’t get over the fact that the most popular love interest for a white male lead CAN BE a dark skinned woman. It is not a crime. We need some loving too. Diversity, Inclusion, Representation: I’m all here for it.

Now this actress, Danai Gurira, is intelligent. Highly intelligent. How she handles criticism of this role, and let’s face it, the extreme hate she receives because of it, astounds me(I have never even seen a single retort back to the hate). She is nothing but a class act. I respect her because she understands how important it is to see a WOMAN who is beautiful, strong, complex, but knows she does not fit the standard acceptance of beauty.(She is super beautiful though. I would kill for her body, uggggggh).This makes her highly targeted, and often the only one singled out. Often times, when people down this ship, I’ll look at their profile and see countless photos of Norman Reedus, Andrew Lincoln, Jeffrey Dean Morgan, and Tom Payne, but never much Michonne (Oh okay, Michonne is your favorite character, but I ain’t seen her ass in any picture or gifset I done flicked by on your dash. But I digress).

We are talking about the most watched show in television history. This coupling is seen over the entire world. What blows my mind even more is that the lead star, you know Andrew Lincoln, has actively campaigned for the pairing to be realized on the television screen. Now, this man has not seen one episode of his own show, but is aware of the magnitude that the Rick and Michonne pairing would have on the world.

He has constantly said that this relationship would be inevitable, and now that it has come to fruition, I start seeing mini Merle’s come out the wood works. (What I’m seeing when I read hot button words like “cringe,” “uncomfortable,” “I just don’t understand,” “no chemistry,” “Rick’s not good enough for Michonne,” makes me upset.) Y'all really want to say, “That’ll be the day I see a nigga kissing Rick.”(At least Rick let Merle know what day it was). Ain’t no white meat or dark meat homeslice, lol.

So, what gets me is that I constantly hear “Michonne is great we love her. She is a bad ass. She is my favorite character. But, and l want you to listen to this big ass but, I don’t like her with Rick, our white male hero. She can take care of his kids and kill for him, put her life on the line for him, but not love him. That’s too much. That’s crossing the line.” I’ll proceed to ask why and get responses like. “I don’t like two strong characters together.”(Oh, so you like strong ass Daryl and strong ass Caryl together? Or a strong Maggie/strong Glenn? Or, strong Daryl with a strong Jesus?). OK, gotcha. Or, “I never saw this coming.” (I never saw Trump becoming president, shit happens). Roll with it.

I’ve recently read, “I can’t wait for her to die.”(Thanks for waiting, she won’t). Or, “why are you always attacking us for an opinion”(why you all up in the Richonne tag lurking and getting angry cause we getting spoiler after spoiler and just dancing and drinking our wine, eating our popcorn and preparing our caskets for 7b).

Guess what, I’m not fond of a lot of things. I don’t like watching water polo( I don’t actively care if others know that fact or not). That’s like me going on every social media account and screaming to everyone “I like all water sports, swimming, diving, you name it, but I don’t know, water polo makes me uncomfortable. I want to barf when I see water polo. That’ll be the day I see water polo being played.” (See, that sounds silly as hell). This is how y'all sound with your dehydrated selves.

Richonners, y'all are lovely people. I’ve never liked a fandom so much. Nothing but positivity comes from us. I even support many other ships ( Caryl, desus, gleggie, tara/ denise, aaron/eric. I even low key ship carol/Morgan, carol/Ezekiel). So just stop it haters. Stop lying to yourselves.

That dark skin has some mighty power, if it gets your panties in a bunch like that. Here’s some Gatorade for that salt y'all be losing in the tag.

Originally posted by gatorade

i remember one night my father brought home a huge bucket of beautiful orange syrup and my father said “here is gatorade”. i took a sip of the gatorade, i could feel the electrolytes turn my body into strong wild garbage. i started screaming “the sour taste! the sour taste of gatorade!” and at the same time my father was screaming “I knew you would understand!”. when i was finished with the orange gatorade i said to my father “i have tasted the sour sweat potion, i now need a new flavor of gatorade. bring me a gatorade that is bitter instead of sour” and my father turned to me sadly and i saw tears in his eyes and i knew the terrible truth, there was no bitter gatorade…

Once Upon a Quarantine

by: mldrgrl
Rated: PG
Summary: for @txf-fic-chicks post-ep/missing scene challenge - At the end of Firewalker, Mulder reports that they are in day 4 of a month long, mandatory quarantine.  So, what was that like?  Thank you @sunflowerseedsandscience for narrowing things down for me!


After the first week of the quarantine, they relaxed our decon status to level 3.  It still meant the same checks, same blood samples, same fluid samples, same vitals taken, just less often.  The week after that, they relaxed it even further down to level 2.  Which was still the same tests, less often, only this time the personnel weren’t required to wear masks.  At the very least, Scully and I weren’t isolated.  Not from each other, anyway.  

Those first two weeks we were kept in a ward resembling a hospital, completely with adjustable beds and every kind of monitor known to man.  It was just us, ten empty beds between us, and a rotating staff of CDC doctors and nurses who were pretty excited about a possible fungal contamination when we first arrived, but quickly grew bored with our complete lack of presentation of any symptom and generally left us alone if they weren’t drawing blood.

Scully read a lot.  They had a whole library of material to choose from to keep us biohazards from going stir crazy, but Scully wasn’t the type to sit down with the newest Michael Crichton novel.  She requested textbooks on pathology to kill time.  I would rather swallow nails than read a textbook.  I did get to consult on some behavioral profiles that were sent over for me to offer input on, so I did get something done.  One evening, I amused myself by turning on all twelve TVs in the room to MTV, turning out the lights, and tried to convince Scully to come party in Club Quarantine.  I even sweet talked one of the nurses into providing me with a tray of test tubes and I filled them with gatorade.  Scully humored me by doing one shot and then went back to her little corner of textbooks while I played air guitar to some new Aerosmith video.

I wasn’t worried about a fungal contamination at all.  From what we witnessed out at the institute, we’d have been long showing signs by now if we were exposed.  What I was worried about, was Scully.  In all honesty, I didn’t think it was a good idea for her to return to work so quickly, but she was adamant about it.  And though she cleared her physical tests and her recertification training, I just thought that taking a break to deal with the abduction, which she has no memory of, would be wise.  The only reason I agreed to sign off on her reinstatement was because it meant I could keep an eye on her myself.

I don’t know if she knows it, but she’s had nightmares almost every night since we’ve been here.  I’m not much of a sleeper, so I stayed up late watching TV down on my end, volume low, and I could hear her soft whimpers from across the room.  I didn’t really know what to do, but I didn’t want to wake her.  What exactly would I say, for one thing?  And if I know Scully, she’d be so mortified she may not sleep again the entire month if she knew I saw her like that.  I suppose the cat would’ve been out of the bag if she was more like me and woke up shouting, but she just whimpered with a furrowed brow.  I put my hand on her shoulder and eventually she relaxed.

Three nights in a row I was pulled from bed by the same whimpering cry and then nothing for the next four nights.  Towards the end of the second week it was happening more frequently and multiple times a night.  She never woke up and I never did more than touch her shoulder and waited for her to stop.

The third week of quarantine, they moved us into a unit that was more like a hotel.  It had a separate bedroom and a pull out couch and a kitchenette.  Gentleman that I am, I gave Scully the bedroom and I took the pull out couch.  It wasn’t all that comfortable, but the only TV in the place was in the little living room and I could make do.  The best thing about the new digs was that they let us make requests for groceries and it turns out that Scully actually likes to cook things.  She also wasn’t half-bad, even if she prefers things that are rather bland.

Now that we had a real room and a VCR, Scully grew less interested in her textbooks and started joining me for movies at night.  Most of the time, she went to bed before they were over and considering she shut the door to the bedroom, I have no idea if the nightmares continued.

We were in the home stretch with only a week to go of this imprisonment when she fell asleep next to me during movie night.  Another nice thing about the new stage of quarantine was they let us wear actual pajamas instead of hospital scrubs and she had on this pair of pinstriped flannel pj’s that looked pretty cozy.  I had stretched out on the pull out, propped up by cushions and pillows and Scully curled up on her side, propped up on her elbow.  I saw her lay down at one point, but I didn’t realize she was asleep until the nightmare started.

It was just a little whimper and I picked up the remote to mute the TV.  The light from the TV made her skin glow and I could see a tear trickling from the corner of her eye and glistening down the inside line of her nose.  

“Shit,” I whispered.

Crying was something else.  She hadn’t cried before and my heart felt like it was being squeezed in a vice.  It brought back memories of nights when Samantha was little and she’d run to my room after having a nightmare, after our mother had told her one too many times to go back to bed.  I would hug her and tuck her back into bed and look in the closet for monsters until one night when I’d just gotten too old and impatient to deal with an annoying little sister who came running every time she heard a noise.  I told her to stop being a baby and stop barging into my room and I don’t know what she did to comfort herself after that because less than a year later, she was gone forever.  If I’d known then what I know now, I never would’ve turned her away.  

Scully isn’t Samantha.  I can’t hug her and tuck her in and pretend to have a bottle of super potent monster repellent hidden under the bed to chase all the bad guys away.  I can’t tuck her in and tell her I’ll stay until she falls asleep.  Scully isn’t seven and she doesn’t hero worship me and think I can do no wrong.

So, I did what I’d done the first weeks of quarantine and I put my hand on Scully’s shoulder, but still she whimpered and still the tears continued to trickle.  I wondered what the nightmares were about.  The abduction?  Something else?  I wished she’d confide in me, but honestly, one of my biggest fears  since she’d been returned to me was that she blamed me for what happened.  I wasn’t there to answer my phone.  I didn’t track Duane Barry down in time to stop it from happening.  And I spent months looking, but still I never found her. I’d understand if she didn’t trust me anymore, but I really wanted a chance to earn it back.

Suddenly, Scully gave a jerk and her eyes opened.  She shivered and her eyes rolled in confusion.  Her breathing was quick and shallow.

“It’s okay,” I said, quietly, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Mulder?” she whispered, voice thin and breathless.

“Unfortunately.  You okay?”

“Fine,” she whispered.  “I’m fine.”

“Bad dream?”

She pulled at the collar of her shirt a little and smoothed her hand up and down her throat as she nodded slightly.  She brushed her hand across her cheek and then pulled her fingers away and a look of surprise crossed her face when they came away wet.  

“I don’t remember,” Scully answered.

“Was it about the spores?”

“I don’t know.”

Scully curled her body up a little tighter and I was surprised she hadn’t already gotten up to leave.  I was hesitant to do it, but I put my hand on her head.

“If you wanted to talk at all,” I said.  “We can.”

“I told you, I don’t remember.”

“Not just about the dreams, about anything.”

“I meant the abduction,” she said, quietly, her eyes slipping shut.  “I don’t remember.”

I moved my hand away and put it in my lap.  “I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, Scully.”

She took a deep breath and sighed as she exhaled.  She shifted slightly and curled up a little bit more.  Quietly, I leaned forward and grabbed the blanket from where it was folded at the end of the bed.  I opened it up and draped it over her, adjusting it over her shoulders so she wouldn’t be cold.  She sighed again and one of her arms flopped out towards me.  Slowly, I leaned back again and when a few minutes passed and she hadn’t moved, I reached down and put my hand in hers.  Her fingers twitched and reflexively curled over mine.  There weren’t any more nightmares for her the rest of the night.

The End

               sick sentence starters

     Nursing

“Go take a shower.”
“I washed the sheets for you while you were gone.”
“I bought you some more tissues.”
“Are you sure you don’t need anything?”
“I’m sorry but you really need to stand up for just a second.”
“Let me fluff your pillow.”
*knocks on bathroom door* “are you alright in there?”
“I got you some more blankets.”
“I got you more soup.”
“Let’s open up some windows in here, yeah?”
“No, you need rest.”
“Well you don’t look fine.”
“Here, drink this.”
“You’ll feel better in no time.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t have gone in the snow without a jacket.”
“See? I told you you’d get sick.”
“You shouldn’t eat that if you’re sick.”
“Well you can’t take it on an empty stomach, so I’m gonna have to force you to eat something.”
“Oh I am so not kissing you on the lips.”
“Do you want me to hold your hair back?”

     Being sick

“Fuck, I feel awful.”
“No, you dont need to do anything more for me.”
“Can I ask you to do something for me?”
“O-Oh god, go get me a bucket.”
“I want more meds.”
“Get that shit away from me before I puke on you.”
“Oh, you really shouldn’t have.”
“Can we watch a movie…?”
“I just wanna sit back and relax.”
“I don’t need rest.”
“But I feel fine.”
“But I hate Gatorade.”
“Can you get me some ice for my throat?”
“Oh god please don’t make me eat anything.”
“I want a snack.”
“But I’ll feel so much better~”
“I know I’m sick but I got us reservations.”
“Would a sick person be able to do this?”
“Can you get me a change of clothes? I feel gross.”
“Don’t leave me at home all alone…”

Tyler Seguin Imagine - “Meet The Team?”

Originally posted by scratchedforlife

i was sitting at home watching greys anatomy, i had marshall sleeping on one side and cash on the other. i heard the door unlock and the footsteps of my boyfriend tyler walking through the door.

immediately marshall jumped up cash following behind him, they both ran to tyler faster than they run to get treats. “how was morning skate babe?” i ask slowly rising from the couch.

he was squatted down petting the two dogs as they jumped around him excitedly. “it was good, how were my boys?” he asks while scratching the back of marshalls ear.

“they were good” i smiled walking up to him, tyler rose to his normal heigh which towered over me. he smiled down at me leaning in placing a slow sweet kiss on my lips. “how are you doing” he wrapped his tattooed arms around me.

“im good” i nuzzled closer to him. i felt him place a kiss on the top of my head. “what are your plans for tonight?” he asked walking to the fridge and grabbing himself a gatorade.

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Take Me Home

Pairing: Isaac Lahey x Reader (WOC)
Word Count: 2k+
Warning: Angst, smut, alcohol mention, drugs mention, unprotected sex (WRAP YOUR WILLY BEFORE YOU DILLY)

Inspiration: “Take Me Home” ~ Jess Glynne

“Came to you with a broken faith,
Gave me more than a hand to hold
Caught before I hit the ground
Tell me I’m safe, you’ve got me now

Could you take care of a broken soul?
Oh, will you hold me now?
Oh, will you take me home?”

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What's the best compliment you've been given after sex?

A woman told me after I ate her pussy that she would dump some Gatorade on me if she had some.

  • nyx: i was walking down the street in insomnia, and i had just bought a gatorade.
  • nyx, genuinely confused: and i was drinking it and this guy screams at me from behind and he says,
  • nyx: "gatorade me, bitch!"
  • nyx: and i throw him my gatorade
  • nyx: he catches it, starts loosing his mind
  • nyx, contemplating life: and then i think to myself; why did i give him my gatorade?

I’m getting Mc.Fuckin’ tired of my family commenting about my weight even tho we already did the deal that I was going to go to a gym.

Somehow that deal made it all worse and now they are nitpicking on every fucking thing I do.

They just yelled at me for buying a fcking Gatorade bc “it makes you fat” and I’m like it’s a FUCKING Gatorade let me live jesus christ they are telling me what to eat, how much, they even fucking made me go to sleep without food once bc “we are on a diet”.

And let’s not even start talking about how they guilt-trip me, ignore how I feel or what I say and try/attempt to manipulate me.

Bobby’s Daughter

Pairing: Dean x Reader
Words: ~1,664
Warnings: unprotected sex (wrap it up)
Request (anon): Hi, I was wondering if you could do a oneshot where its DeanxReader but the reader is Bobby’s daughter, so Dean and the reader have had to keep their relationship a secret since Bobby doesn’t want his daughter dating hunters, so dean and the reader have to sneak around a lot:) Thankyouu
A/N: I’m so sorry this took over a month but December was a weird month for me.
Tags: @fangirl1802 @jared-padaloveme @impalaimagining @ellen-reincarnated1967 @fernandasvaldi @tmccarney @supernatural-jackles @jensen-jarpad @just-a-touch-of-crowley @the-latina-trickster
Wanna be tagged? Just send me an ask!

Originally posted by bringmesomepie56

You were lying in bed when you heard your father’s footsteps coming down the hall.

“Hey, darling. Dinner’s ready.”

You jumped up and headed towards the kitchen, stopping in your tracks when you saw two beautiful men sitting at the table. Your jaw dropped when you realized you were in pajama shorts and a tank top. “Dad, who are they? And why the hell didn’t you tell me we had guests?”

“Y/n, meet Sam and Dean.”

You waved awkwardly as you ran back to your room to change and came back in a tight t-shirt and jeans that accentuated your curves. “Hello, boys.”

You smiled as you pulled out the chair next to Dean. Bobby cleared his throat, noticing Dean’s eyes wandering over your body. “Hey, Idjit! Keep your eyes off of my daughter.”

“Come on, Dad. Don’t be so harsh.”

“Don’t even think about it, y/n. You will not be dating, or having anything to do with hunters.”

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