grilled three cheese sandwich

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September, 1977

Racism Trigger Warning

@ask-the-deadman @baileytsample @milevenge @upside-nwod

To six-year-old Lucas Sinclair, a year was an eternity.  And that was more true than ever as he sat around the kitchen island, the smell of grilled cheese filling the room and Mike’s excited chattering overpowering the sizzle from the stovetop.

It had been only a year since he’d met his friend and he already knew Mike’s every secret and quirk.  The same went for Will, although it had taken a bit more time.  Will wasn’t like Mike- if he had a secret, he could hold onto it rather than watch it explode compulsively from his mouth.  The year the three of them had had together had to have been an eternity if Lucas was able to become so close to two people so different from himself.  To further prove his point, Lucas could not remember the specific months or weeks or days that made up that year.  It was all just a haze of play dates and their favorite corner of the kindergarten class and being so happy.  The only concrete memory that stuck out was the one of Will laughing so hard grape juice came out his nose, but Lucas knew he could live through a million eternities and remember that.  The issue now was that he had to go through an eternity of a year, but this time it was with-

“Alright, three grilled cheese sandwiches for the new first graders!  And Lucas, the tomato soup should be done in just a minute or two,”  Mrs. Wheeler, Mike’s mom, placed three steaming plates in front of them.  

“Thank you,”  Lucas remembered to say.  Even in his low state he felt a twinge of pride.  He was good at using his manners, even when he was upset.  He knew most other kids in his class couldn’t remember their manners even in the best of circumstances, so he was already several steps ahead.  Although today his manners had proved ineffective.  No one, not even the teacher, cared whether he could say ‘please’ or ‘thank you’.

“Do you boys like your teachers?”

Lucas suppressed a wince at Mrs. Wheeler’s question and nibbled around the crust of his sandwich while Mike launched into description of a teacher he loved (Lucas suspected he had a crush on said teacher, but he couldn’t bring himself to tease him.  Not then).  She was pretty.  She gave them a whole hour for reading.  She had already learned half of their names.  Lucas wanted to be happy about the great teacher his friends had ended up with but…

They had found out which classes they’d be in a week prior.  Lucas’s mom had driven out to look at the class list and whether or not Lucas fit in with Mike and Will, and she’d been filled with remorse over the results.  Lucas could feel his face growing hot as he remembered the crestfallen look on Mike’s face as he told him which teacher he had.

“But it’s okay!” Mike rebounded.  “Me and Will can still see you at recess and you can come over to my house every day if you want to.  It’ll be okay.”
Lucas wasn’t sure if Mike had said it for Lucas’s sake or his own, but as soon as Mike had said it, his chin began to tremble.  It would be just as awful to be without Lucas as it would be for Lucas to be without Mike.  

Mrs. Wheeler brought Lucas out of the memory by handing him a bowl of freshly heated tomato soup.  In his book, a grilled cheese was never complete without the soup as a side.  Mike and Will thought it was gross, which only fueled his love for the combo, and Mrs. Wheeler made sure to have tomato soup on hand for whenever Lucas came over.  And Mike was calling this after-first-day-of-school snack at his house a new tradition, so Lucas suspected the Wheeler family would be going through lots of tomato soup before they were finished with him.

“Thank you,” he remembered to say.

“You’re welcome,”  Mrs. Wheeler answered.  “And how are you liking Mrs. Penshaw?  Nancy never had her as a teacher, so I don’t know much about her,”

“Oh,”  Lucas frantically racked his brain for something good to say about Mrs. Penshaw.  She wore tall black shoes, kind of like the ones his mom wore?  She had very neat handwriting?  She smiled at most of the kids?

But not you.

“Mrs. Penshaw is nice.”  It was a lie, but Lucas knew lying was sometimes necessary.  Mike and Will were happy with their teacher.  Lucas had a different teacher.  But it was nothing to make a fuss over.

“Did you talk at recess?”

Mike and Will answered this question together, clamoring over each other’s sentences to tell her about the only part of the day Lucas had enjoyed.  They’d gone on an intricate journey around the playground in search of the perfect dragon lair (because every playground needed one of those) and both boys had lots to say on the matter.  But Lucas could only think of what had happened in the hours between recess.

He’d walked in with more confidence than he had in kindergarten.  Of course he knew Mike and Will would not be at his side, and that hurt, but he also knew that he was smart, friendly, and a great candidate for a friend.  He would find a friend, and while it may not be Mike or Will, he’d still have someone to get him through the school day.  He’d be fine.

Mrs. Penshaw greeted every kid with a smile- that is, every kid but Lucas.  When he walked in the door and offered a polite “good morning”, he was met with a strangely cold look before being pointed to his seat.  From his chair he could see as every other kid got a smile.  Every kid but him.

But that was okay.  Even adults forgot their manners at times, and even with his superior skill set of manners, he was in no position to make judgments.
Class continued as usual, with the introductions and the class rules.  Lucas listened politely.  He missed having someone to talk to, but he could handle it for one day.

But then came snack time.  Lucas pulled out his cheese and crackers and looked to the rest of his table group, trying to decide which one to befriend.  Troy, Jess, and Hannah.  He didn’t love the fact that he had to share the table with a girl but he could look past that.  As long as everyone was friendly he could-

“I heard my mom say that God hates black people,”  This came from Hannah, who was talking to Jess but staring directly at Lucas.

“What?”  Jess was face-deep in his box of raisins.  “Why?”

Hannah shrugged.  “When God hates someone he makes them black.  Like with dark skin.  So that everyone else can all know.”

All at once, Lucas could feel his legs turning to rubber under the table and his heart thudding slow and heavy.  “I don’t think that’s true,”  Don’t think?  “That’s not true!”

Jess finally pulled himself from his raisin box.  “You’re black,”

No, duh.  Lucas had to suppress that little outburst.  Jess obviously wasn’t the brightest of the bunch.  But stupidity he could handle.

He could not handle Troy, who chomped off hard on the end of a carrot before saying in an almost sensible tone: “Black people shouldn’t be allowed at this table.  I don’t want to go to hell because he’s here.”

His stomach clenched, twisting and dropping in one horribly nauseous wave.  How could Troy say something like that?  He hadn’t said anything like that to him in Kindergarten, although he’d never been nice to Mike or Will, which meant he was mean to him by extension.  But how could anyone let him say something like that?  In Kindergarten everyone was taught about the importance of inclusion.  And this was the opposite!  This was exclusion.  And all because of his skin?  

Still reeling from disbelief, Lucas wondered if they’d actually make him switch tables or if it was just a not-so-friendly suggestion.  He glanced around the room.  All the seats seemed full anyway.  And would anyone want to sit with him if they all thought God hated him?

His gaze caught Mrs. Penshaw, sitting quietly at her desk.

A few months prior, Mike had invited Will and Lucas over for a start-of-summer sleepover.  The prospect of having a sleepover, which was something only his older siblings ever got to have, was exhilarating and Lucas would’ve skipped the whole way to Mike’s house had he not been carrying a duffel bag dwarfing his whole body.  They were in Mike’s room and Lucas was declaring himself the king of the room from the top bunk when his foot slipped on the top ladder rung and he landed full on his back.  For a moment he lay there, too stunned to cry.  He could only inhale and exhale in deep, rattling breaths until the air worked its way back into his body.  Mike and Will hung over him, talking to him and trying to get him to stand again, but in those first few minutes he was stuck gasping through his shock on the ground.

That was how he felt now, seeing that Mrs. Penshaw was staring right at their table, knowing that Mrs. Penshaw was close enough to hear every word, and realizing that Mrs. Penshaw was going to let them say whatever they wanted to him.

Hannah, Jess and Troy regarded Lucas with a certain coldness until he stopped talking to them.  The class continued and Lucas could only watch as the teacher asked questions he knew the answer to but was too afraid to raise his hand for.  He had been so ready to go into first grade, knowing he was one of the smartest, knowing he could be the teacher’s favorite, knowing he was the type of boy that could make lots of friends.  But now he was here, knowing that his brain, his manners, and his loyalty meant nothing to anyone in this classroom.  Not even the teacher.

Sitting before his untouched bowl of tomato soup, Lucas could feel tears gathering up in his eyes.  He placed his sandwich down on the plate and tried to wipe his tears away, only to find that his hands were greasy from the sandwich and he was making a big mess all over his face.

Stop crying!  Stop crying!

Lucas had always considered himself good at controlling his emotions, but this was pain and betrayal he could not handle.  A pathetic sob escaped him and he found himself crying helplessly in front of everyone.

He felt Mike wrap his arms instinctively around him and heard Will’s chair scraping against the floor as he jumped up to do the same.  Mrs. Wheeler was in front of him with tissues, trying to calm him down.  But he didn’t think he’d be able to get the words out.  They were too awful to be spoken out loud.

Mike shook his arm.  “Lucas, what’s wrong?”

Through his tears, Lucas looked up and found himself staring into the wide, sincere eyes of his best friend.  All at once he remembered the first day of Kindergarten when he watched Mike’s face crumble in front of a wide-eyed class of judgmental jerks.  Lucas was his friend when no one else would be, and now Lucas knew that Mike would never, ever forget that.

And so all at once, Lucas let the words out.  The whole story unraveled and Mike’s eyes narrowed while Will’s tiny fists clenched and Mrs. Wheeler put a hand over her mouth as if she was horrified by the whole thing.  When it was finished, Lucas felt too tired to cry or do much of anything else.  Mike and Will still clung to each of his arms, each of their grips tightening with fury as he hung his head in shame.

Mrs. Wheeler was the first to speak after he’d finished.  “Well, Lucas, I’m not keeping you in that class and I think your mom would agree with me,”

Briskly she grabbed the phone and dialed, pressing the receiver to her ear with one hand and placing the other on her hip.  “Hello?  Yes, hello, this is Karen Wheeler.  I need to switch one of my students out of Mrs. Penshaw’s class and into Ms. Erland’s class.  Yes.  Thank you.  His name is Lucas Sinclair and-”

Lucas didn’t care to hear the rest.  Slowly, he wiped away the last of his tears and took a bite of his sandwich.  There was another eternity of a year ahead, but at least this time he’d be with his friends.  

anonymous asked:

For autistic Lexi I have so many questions... does she have any special interests what are her stims what foods does she like what foods does she hate does she ever have trouble making friends or fitting in because of it does she like routine and if so does super girls unpredictable schedule upset her does she ever use sign language to communicate ?????

So, I took a little bit extra time to answer this, because writing autistic Lexi is really important to me! And I feel like all of the things you asked are super important to an autistic person and very … defining. like all the little quirks we have are a big part of who we are and I want to be sure and do Lexi justice!

Her first special interest is Supergirl!! She loves Supergirl! everything about Supergirl! And even after she finds out that her mom is Supergirl, she’s still a hardcore fan! It stays like a low-key special interest her whole life! She also loves space! and Krypton especially! She loves to hear Kara talk about Krypton and she spends hours upon hours with the Alura AI - learning everything she can about not only Krypton but space and other planets in general! She and her uncle Winn spend hours arranging glow in the dark stars on her ceiling in the correct celestial orbit and when she gets a little older they design a holographic projection machine that displays planets and stars (think Star Wars style).

Happy stimming - She silent claps and kind of bounces on the balls of her feet! Overwhelmed stimming - she hugs herself and rocks and also fidgets with her glasses (she learned that one from Kara). And she has a fidget cube that Lena designed that helps her focus when she just has too many thoughts!
Foods - She loves Spaghetti! and potstickers! anything with kind of that cooked pasta texture. She also went through a three month period where she ate nothing but grilled cheese sandwiches for dinner! She hates slimy foods, or anything too greasy or spicy.

She does have some trouble making friends, but she doesn’t really care. She doesn’t really like to talk to new people, she’s definitely a side-by-side person (i.e. doing things at the same time as someone but not necessarily together) Her favorite friends are those that she can just be silent around and they don’t get offended. She has a few alien buddies from school, but her best friend by far is her cousin Astraid - they’re pretty much inseparable!

Routine is very important to her! and the Supergirl schedule does get in the way of that a little! But the super fam steps in to make sure she doesn’t get too far off track! Lena walks her to school every morning - sometimes with Kara sometimes not - and Kara picks her up from school every day. When Kara isn’t able to because of a super hero emergency then her Uncle James or Aunt Maggie picks her up and takes her to the DEO which is like her second home (she prefers Uncle James because he’s so easy to talk into stopping for ice cream). Lena makes it a point to never work later than 6 unless absolutely necessary, so her evening routine is usually pretty set!

She does use sign language sometimes, like when she just feels like being quiet. But when she’s especially overwhelmed it’s harder because she fidgets so much and her hands twitch which makes it difficult. She loves being around Papa J’onn in times like that, because she doesn’t HAVE to speak - he just knows. She speaks Kryptonian a lot, so the super fam has to brush up on their skills! A lot of time she merges the two languages together and talks with her hands which the gang lovingly refers to as ‘Lexi-speak’. 

Method

Prompt: None

Pairing: Sam x Plus-Sized Reader

Warnings: NSFW. Dirty talking, bad language, violence and tons and tons of smut.

Word Count: 1773

Author’s Note: This is the sequel to Research, which can be found here.

xoxoxoxoxox

Originally posted by jizemderler

Originally posted by out-in-the-open

Originally posted by sensualkisses


The cold flash of steel as the knife pressed against your throat was seriously making you rethink your decision to associate with the Winchesters. Dean looked pissed; his eyes were a steely calm as he pointed the gun at the monster’s face.

“Let her go.” Sam’s voice was quiet and commanding, a hidden note of rage simmering under the surface. If you didn’t know him, you’d be petrified of him. All six and a half feet of him was pure muscle.

“Or what? You aren’t going to shoot me, not while I’ve got her. So it looks like you’re out of options, boys.”

The rugaru had once been a man, a librarian, actually, by the name of Phil. You had worked closely with him on several occasions when the university saw fit. Now he was a deformed crazy thing. He smelled horrible and he looked worse. You were terrified. You were nothing more than a meal to him now.


Sam had spent a good part of last night and early this morning teaching you how to defend yourself. You’d both known it wasn’t something that could be taught in such a short time but what he had made abundantly clear was to always go for the groin, if possible. 

You weighed your options. The knife at your pulse point made you wary but if you could reposition yourself just a bit… you wiggled and shoved your elbow as hard as possible into that soft spot between his legs. Whether it hurt or not, he let out a startled howl and his grip on you went lax. You darted free and ran, stumbling and landing flat on your face. Your breath whooshed out just as a gunshot rang through the old house.“

Y/N.” Sam helped you to your feet and one of his big hands wrapped around your chin. He turned your face from side to side, checking for cuts and bruises. There was a small cut where the knife had pressed into your skin and a scrape on your elbow that needed cleaning but other than that you had no new injuries. “You okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah, sure. I’m good.” 

The two of you were staring at  each other and your eyes kept falling on his mouth. You’d wanted to know what it felt like to kiss him since he’d walked into your office. Your body was pressed firmly against his. It was intoxicating. It was all you could think about, even with Dean and a dead monster in the room.

Sam leaned in, close enough that you could smell the coffee and mint on his breath.“Not here.” He said in your ear. His voice was low and husky and your knees turned to jelly. “Believe me, I want this just as badly as you do.” He nipped at your ear and you squeaked. “Let Dean and I take care of this and then…”

It took all your self-control to nod at him and not jump him right then and there.

You waited patiently as the men wrapped the body, carried it out and stuck it in the trunk. They drove down the road a few miles, where the wilderness got thick, and Sam and Dean burned and buried the body. It took forever. You were surprised the corpse burned at all what with it being so recently dead and gooey. You had dozed off when you heard the Impala’s doors slam shut and the boys settled into their seats.

“We going back to your place?” Dean asked, his fatigue obvious in his voice.

They’d booked themselves a motel room but most of the time since they’d arrived they had been at your house, using it as home base.

“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ve got a couch and a guestroom. Y’all can flip.” You settled back into your seat with a wicked grin at Sam. His eyes darkened and he seemed interested in nothing less than getting you on your back and fucking you so deep into the mattress that you couldn’t walk straight for the next week.

His hand was draped over the seat and he was drawing lazy circles on your knee. Every time his fingers touched you, even in such an innocent gesture, a sweet need shot through your core. You were pretty sure Dean knew what was going on. He kept glancing at Sam, a smirk on his face. 

The drive seemed to take forever but once you were home and safely locked in for the night, you made a couple grilled cheese sandwiches for yourself and the boys. 

The three of you demolished the plate, eating quickly and quietly.

“Alright, kids. I’m off to bed. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

He grabbed his duffel and disappeared into the guest room. You heard the door close and lock and you swallowed your last bite of grilled cheese, looking up at Sam through your lashes.

His eyes were hot and hungry. His bottom lip was between his teeth. He looked wild, frenzied even. You weren’t sure how to act or what to do. It wasn’t that you’d never been with a man before, it was that you hadn’t been with a man like him before. He was a walking contradiction, like one of those Scottish Highlanders out of the novels you loved.

You stood up abruptly and took the plate to the sink. You turned around and Sam was right there, pinning you against the counter. The bulge in his jeans pressed firmly against your low belly. He lifted you onto the counter, which surprised the hell out of you as lifting you wasn’t something men normally even considered, and dove between your thighs. His mouth was hot on yours and there was nothing tentative about his kiss. He worked your mouth open and when his tongue tangled with yours you let out a moan so loud that he actually shushed you.

He dragged his mouth away from yours. “Bedroom,” he said with ragged breath.

Feeling bold you shoved him away, hopped down and took him by the hand, leading him past your guestroom into your most private place in the world.You flipped the switch and the room flooded with soft light from the fairy lights strung across the room. You started picking up the clothes scattered around the room. Sam did that thing where he appeared out of nowhere again and took the clothes out of your arms, dropping them on the floor. He spun you around to face him.

“Leave it.” His mouth was on yours again and the scent of him was overwhelming. You felt dizzy. He stripped your clothes off of you, leaving you completely naked in front of him. 

You’d taken your clothes off for men before but you’d never been truly naked with a man until now. It was intoxicating. The way Sam was looking at you made heat pool in your core. He unbuttoned his flannel slowly, giving you a bit of a show as he took his clothes off. Once he was down to his boxer briefs he lunged at you, throwing his arms around you as the two of you crashed onto your bed. Never had you been more thankful for your picky sleeping preferences than now with Sam Winchester in your king-sized bed.

He tugged your leg up around his waist and trailed his fingers across your skin, over your stomach and he slowly slid a finger inside of you.

“Jesus Christ, Y/N. Is that all for me?” He slowly removed his finger and brought it to his mouth, tasting you. He moaned and it sounded positively sinful. “You taste amazing.” He crawled down your body and kneeled on the floor at the foot of the bed. He hooked his shoulders under your knees and pulled you to the edge, dragging the tip of his nose along your inner thigh.

You arched off the mattress and tightened your legs around his shoulders. He chuckled against your core, where he was now pressing soft kisses.

His tongue slid inside you with practiced technique and your toes curled, his name falling like a curse from your lips.

“Oh my God, you taste like heaven.”

He began to work his tongue in earnest, one arm keeping your hips flat on the bed as he ate you out.

You were gasping for breath, your skin was on fire. “Sam,” you ground out. “Need you—.” Another wave of pleasure crashed over you. “Need you inside me.”

He lifted his head, his mouth and chin shining with your juices. It turned you on that he had been so buried in you that his face was covered in you. Pure, personal and possessive. 

You sat up and peeled his underwear off. His cock sprang free and your throat went dry. He was so big and you weren’t sure he would fit. You licked your lips, watching a drop of precum appear at the tip.

“I want to taste you,” you whined at him.He grinned. “There will be plenty of time for that later.” 

Later. You couldn’t help but grin.

He covered your body with his and you wrapped your legs around his waist. His cock was trapped between your bodies against your slick folds and he rocked forward, dragging the sensitive head against your even more sensitive clit. He hissed, reached down and drove himself inside you with such force that your bed creaked and his pubic bone became flush with yours.You shoved your hands into his soft, pretty hair and tugged, eliciting another sinful moan from him.

“God… Y/N…” he moved slowly, letting you get used to his size. He bit your shoulder and you felt another surge of warmth in your belly. “You’re so tight.”He started to move in earnest and you dug your short nails into his firm back. Soft curves against hard lines. His hands found your breasts and he rolled them in his hands, sucking your left nipple into his mouth. “Come for me, sweet girl,” he said and you did. The world went white as you soared over the edge.

Sam thrust once more, hard and deep and spilled himself inside you, with a loud shout of your name.The two of you lay there panting for a moment and Sam rolled off and tucked you against him so that your head rested securely on his chest.

His fingers moved slowly up and down your back and you could hear his heart still thumping.

“Will you stay?” You asked quietly.

He tucked your hair behind your ear. “I’ll stay as long as you want.”

4

after work mindless doodles 

i should be sleeping now but god my work is increasing af ugh someone should sing me a lullaby

Okay so I spent what feels like three hours trying to make a grilled cheese sandwich and burned every single one. This is what happens when you get no sleep and need like an average of thirteen every night. Not even sure I’m still on earth anymore, maybe I should just drink for the rest of the day.