#Mushies Cereal Milk Bar
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mrmushiesmushroombars · 7 months ago
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Unlocking the Magic of Mr. Mushies Chocolate: A Journey to Bliss
Picture this: a velvety piece of chocolate melting on your tongue, releasing a burst of rich flavour that tantalizes your taste buds. Now, imagine this chocolate isn't just any ordinary treat—it's infused with the enchanting essence of psilocybin mushrooms, taking your sensory experience to a whole new level of euphoria. Welcome to the world of Mr. Mushies Chocolate, where indulgence meets enlightenment in every delectable bite.
Crafted with Care and Expertise
At the heart of Mr. Mushies lies a dedication to quality and purity. Mr Mushies shroom bar is meticulously crafted using premium ingredients and infused with a precise dosage of psilocybin, ensuring a consistent and potent experience every time. From the finest cocoa beans to the freshest mushrooms, every element is carefully selected to deliver unparalleled flavour and efficacy.
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A Symphony of Flavors
When it comes to flavour, Mr Mushies Chocolate sets the standard for excellence. Whether you prefer the classic richness of dark chocolate or the creamy sweetness of milk chocolate, there's a variety to suit every palate. Each bar is expertly balanced to complement the earthy notes of the mushrooms, creating a harmonious fusion of taste and texture that's truly irresistible.
The Perfect Companion for Exploration
Whether you're embarking on a solo journey of self-discovery or gathering with friends for a psychedelic adventure, Mr. Mushies Chocolate is the perfect companion. Its convenient and discreet packaging makes it easy to enjoy on the go, allowing you to explore the depths of your consciousness wherever your path may lead. And with precise dosing, you can trust that each experience will be both safe and transformative.
Embracing the Magic Within
In a world filled with distractions and obligations, Mr. Mushies Chocolate offers a moment of respite—a chance to reconnect with yourself and the world around you. With each bite, you're invited to embrace the magic within, unlocking new realms of insight and understanding. Whether you're seeking clarity, creativity, or simply a sense of wonder, Mr. Mushies Chocolate is your passport to a journey of discovery.
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Experience the Bliss of Mr. Mushies Chocolate Today
Are you prepared to take chocolate to a whole new level? Visit mrmushiesmushroombars today to explore our full range of products and embark on your journey of blissful indulgence. With Mr. Mushies Chocolate by your side, the possibilities are endless. Treat yourself to the ultimate fusion of flavour and enlightenment, and discover why Mr Mushies is the premier destination for discerning enthusiasts around the globe.
Conclusion:
Mr. Mushies Chocolate is not just a treat for the taste buds—it's a gateway to a world of wonder and exploration. With its unparalleled quality, exquisite flavours, and transformative effects, it's no wonder why mrmushiesmushroombars.com has become the go-to choice for those seeking a truly magical experience. So why wait? Indulge in the decadence of Mr. Mushies Chocolate today, and unlock the infinite possibilities that await within.
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mjolnirswriststrap · 7 months ago
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Just Another Notch
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Masterlist PART 1/? PART 2
Bucky Barnes x Plus Size F!Reader
Summary: If Bucky thinks his charms will work on you, then you’re gonna put up one hell of a fight to prove him wrong.
Word Count: 1,473
Warnings: None, but future chapters will hold explicit content, read everything at your own discretion.
You remember the first time Bucky really looked your way, like it was yesterday. It was late, the core team all went out for drinks, no room for any trainees. They were just returning. You could hear everyone hooting and hollering before they got off the elevator.
You wouldn’t say you were particularly close to any of them. Sure you worked together, but that’s as deep as it got. They all seemed like family to one another, it wasn’t the same for the revolving door of interns and new trainees.
You watch as everyone passes the kitchen door, not even glancing to investigate the yellow glow emitting from it. You stirred the bowl of granola and milk, it was subconscious, something that instantly cleansed your mind of the pompous heroes. The smell of cinnamon fills your nose when you bring a spoonful of oats and almonds to your mouth.
You accidentally places the spoon down a little too hard, causing a metal and ceramic ring to chime. The last one out of the elevator heard it, stopping in their tracks at the kitchen door. “Cereal sounds perfect right now.” He says, walking towards the refrigerator. You don’t respond to him, you just start chewing faster, wanting to concede and hide in your room.
You keep your eyes down, listening to his sloppy movements, over the sound of your crunching. When the pale bottom of the bowl begins to show you slip from the the bar stool situated opposite of the kitchen island to the sink. You would either have to walk all the way around or slip past Bucky for a faster escape.
Rinse the bowl, put it in the dishwasher, turn on the garbage disposal, and run before he says another word. You decided to cut corners, stepping behind Bucky pouring his cereal. You don’t expect him to step backwards and knock your bowl of milk and mushy cereal all over your white cotton pajamas.
He turns, quickly apologizing and grabbing paper towels. “I didn’t even see you there, I’m sorry.” He takes it upon himself to wipe and dab the milk from your front. You clear your throat, you’re deciding to blame it on his drunkenness as to why he thinks it’s okay to touch your breasts like this. He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing wrong, he’s just helping you clean up. But he’s coasted over your cold wet nipple one too many times, it’s beginning to peek through the fabric.
“It’s fine. I should go.” You say, against better judgment you gingerly toss the bowl into the sink and make way for the kitchen door. “Wait.” He grabs your arm, spinning you back. “Get me back.” His tone is serious.
“What?” Pure confusion fills your face. “Spill milk on my shirt. So we’re even.” You laugh lightly. How chivalrous, “Thanks for the sentiment, but ruining your nice button down isn’t gonna unsoil my nightshirt. You’re good, I swear.” You say, not really wanting to throw milk on the best assassin in the world. What if he remembers tomorrow and decides to have a vendetta with you because of it?
“Fine, but now I owe you, and I would rather pay up now.” He crossed his arms infront of him. A playful smile on his lips. Your heart was pounding a thousand miles a minute, the second he walked in all you wanted was to escape. “Wash that bowl for me please.” You say, running out of the kitchen, solving two problems in one.
When you make it to your room you’re mortified as you look in the mirror. Your white cotton had turned see through, your nipples on full display. No matter how drunk Bucky was, you knew he noticed that. You rub your forehead as you replay the moment back, wondering what went wrong. Wondering why he even stepped back in the first place.
He was drunk, sure. But a super soldier of his status rarely loses their footing, no matter the circumstance. It felt intentional now that you analyze the situation. He didn’t move from that spot. It took you more than a minute to finish your cereal. He should’ve already been sitting down, eating. He was waiting for you to move first.
Your phone buzzes beside you, it’s your best friend. A Snapchat video awaits you, while you run to your bathroom to fix your messy situation. When you emerge from the tiny water closet your phones lighting up again. Another Snapchat but it’s a message this time.
You swipe right on her animated icon, “My data is shit and that video took 20 minutes to send.” You stifle a laugh and tap the purple square. Your phone starts blasting house music and you rush to turn it down. The flashing lights distract your eyes from the highlighted caption on the screen, “the avengers are here 😱” you toss your head back in annoyance. You’d reminded her plenty of times that they’re not celebrities, plus they’re kinda assholes. Ever since you started working here, all of the pedestals you put them on crashed to the ground. None of them were perfect.
You look back at the screen and see a familiar figure in the background, it’s Bucky, holding a water bottle. You squint your eyes, wondering if you’re over reacting, you need to prove something to yourself. You let the video play through, texting your friend back to ask an unconventional question.
“When exactly did you take that video?” You lay down in bed and wait for her to reply. Your phone chimes.
“Like I said, probably around 20 minutes ago. They left right after. Your eye candy didn’t seem like he was having a good time 😬” you read the words and can’t help but groan, she was really getting on your nerves tonight. You mention one time, sophomore year, that you thought the winter soldier was hot. Five years later, she still hasn’t given it up, even after you began working with him.
You stopped feeling that way once you saw his personal revolving door that connected to the new trainees one. He really doesn’t help their return rate. You bet half of them run for the hills in pitiful heartbreak. You had to admit, his proximity and diligence in trying to clean your shirt, was hot. Your a woman of the people, you can’t deny his attractiveness because of his personality.
So if what you saw is true, that means Bucky sure as hell wasn’t drunk when he got home less than 10 minutes later. Why would he do that to you? It was sleazy, and definitely would’ve worked on anyone else. You just couldn’t fathom the possibility of him coming on to you. He’d never spoke to you before.
Not like you expected him to, you were far out of his wheel house of girls. You were recruited for your strength. And with that came fat. You never thought anything of it growing up, you knew you were stronger than the other girls because you were bigger than them. But as you got older you became stronger than all the boys too. Your parents took you to a specialist, you were only 9. That’s when the doctor sat you down and told you that your strength was within, your muscles were mutated, it had been so since birth, benign till now. He said your muscles were the worlds strongest rubber bands, operating on your mental will power to use them, you’d only ever be as strong as you believed you were.
You knew and believed you were stronger than all the girls, so your muscles allowed it. You grew in weight and height, towering over some boys and definetly larger in size than them, so you believed you must be stronger than them, so your body allowed it. When you got around the age of 16, your parents let you explore your mutation more. Letting you hop in the fighting octagon with a man triple your size. You were confident in your mutation, therefore you were confident you could beat him. It was a cycle that won you many championships, and medals, before people started asking too many questions and you had to get a real job, doing something for the greater good, like contract killing for shield. Or offering your services to the avengers to only be treated like a lowly high school office intern.
You weren’t his type, that much was clear, so what’s his motive? Toy around with you for sick twisted fun? You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. He’s going to have no effect on you if this is how he intends to play. You put your phone on the charger, checking your alarm, before you force yourself to fall asleep, a long day of training awaits you.
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morganski-19 · 1 year ago
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I Don't Know Which Way's Home
Chapter 2: Figuring Things Out
ao3 link, Part 1
cw: implied child abuse and grief
October 1986, One week prior
Julie wakes up to a loud bang followed by some crying. Followed by some yelling about being too loud from crying. She rolls over in the bed that isn’t hers and tries to fall back asleep, but when the blankets are yanked off of her, she’s forced to face reality. 
“Get up you lazy shit,” Janice Radburn, her foster parent, mutters at her. She isn’t much of a parent, probably why she never had her own kids. But it was a fast placement and an empty bed, so she’s stuck with her. 
Molly, one of the other foster kids, is sitting quietly on her bed, just looking at Julie when she sits up. 
“What?” Julie grumbles.
“We’re supposed to be up by eight, they didn’t tell you that, but we are.”
Julie gives her an annoyed look. “It’s a Saturday.”
Molly just shrugs. “Just how it is.”
She bites the inside of her cheek, trying to bite back the words she really wants to say. Instead, she gets up, the old bed creaking with her weight loss, and heads to the bathroom. Already preparing to fight for it when she does. 
Oliver runs into her, the other foster kid. He has a fresh bandaid across his knee, but that doesn’t stop him from running around like a lunatic. He apologizes softly before running down the hall again, another thump ricocheting from his bedroom. 
The past few days have been, eventful, to say the least. If she wanted to be more realistic, fucking terrible would be the words she’d choose. She looks in the mirror, seeing the massive dark circles surrounding her still red-rimmed eyes.
A shower would be nice, scrubbing off all the weirdness of this house in the hopes that she’ll feel ok again. Crying in a place where she can do it and not be afraid of getting yelled at for being too loud. But she’ll still probably be yelled at for hogging the bathroom. She does it anyway, though, making sure to lock the door behind her. 
When the stream of water hits her, everything breaks. Half-silent sobs rip from her throat as the tears stream down her face. She hates her life, she hates this home. She hates that tomorrow she’ll have to say goodbye to her mom forever, even though she’s already long gone. 
Once she towels herself off, she slips on one of her mom’s old sweatshirts. It’s been glued to her body since that night, unable to take it off. If she closes her eyes and tries just enough, she can imagine it as her mom’s arms, her perfume still woven through the fabric. Faded from a little overuse, but still there. It mixes with the hurt to form a sense of comfort, that her mom is still there. 
Someone bangs on the door. “Get out, you prick,” Mark Radburn yells from the other side, his grumpy personality seeping through the barrier. When she opens the door, she can’t even get the whole way out before he’s bounding past her, shoving her out with the door, muttering, “Bathroom hog.”
She shakes off the side that touched him and heads downstairs. The kitchen is a mess in what she assumes to be their normal. Beer bottles litter the countertops and stubbed-out cigarettes are thrown across the floor. The milk left out on the counter and a spilled bowl of cereal in a puddle on the floor. She’ll have to clean it up, she’s sure of it.
Grabbing an apple that’s surprisingly not mushy and a granola bar, she heads for the back door. When the coast is clear, she opens it as quietly as the squeaky hinges let her, and runs. 
. . . 
Present Day, October 1986
When Steve wakes up, he almost forgets the events of the previous night has happened. That it was all some weird dream breaking up his nightmare streak. But as he walks into the hallway and sees the guestroom door he normally leaves open shut, it all comes crashing back. Realization sinks through his body as he stares at the door. 
He has a sister, a half-sister. His dick head of a dad knocked one of the many secretaries that he slept with and hid it. From him and his mom. 
Betrayal fills his body as he walks down the stairs. How could he do this to him, to his mom? To Julie? Cheating was already unforgivable in his mind, but his mom put up with it for some reason. But to have a child with someone else. That might be the final straw to break. 
He picks up the phone in his living room, letting the sleep fill his voice enough to feign sickness so he can get out of work. Keith puts up a bit of a fight but Steve wins, he always does. Robin will just hate him slightly because she’ll be left alone in the store on a Saturday with Keith who is incredibly unhelpful. 
Heading to the kitchen, he starts a pot of coffee. He’s not quite sure what Julie likes to eat, but he’s never met a kid who doesn’t like pancakes. So he grabs the mix and makes the batter, preheating the pan and plopping the batter into it when it’s ready. He makes some plain and sprinkles chocolate chips in other ones. For options. And because Robin likes them. 
Steve pours himself a cup of coffee when it stops dripping, adding in some creamer. He turns around to grab a plate to put the pancakes on when Julie walks into the room. 
“I think those are burning,” she states, suspiciously eying the stove behind him. 
“Shit,” he says when he turns around, quickly using the spatula to get them off of the pan. He takes a breath, letting out his slight frustration before pouring more batter into the pan. “There’s coffee if you want any, mugs are in that cabinet. Or there’s tea or hot chocolate in the pantry. And there’s orange juice in the fridge.”
“That’s a lot of options.”
Steve shrugs. “I know a lot of picky people.”
Julie walks over to the cabinet he pointed at, uncertainty in her movements. Not like he blames her, she’s been in this house for twelve hours and talked to him less than that. It’d be unrealistic of him to think that one conversation would be enough to make this not awkward, but he’s trying. She pours some coffee from the pot, following Steve’s direction of where the sugar and creamer are. 
“I thought you were still asleep,” Julie admits, sitting on one of the chairs at the island. “Thought a heard snoring.”
He snorts. “That would be Robin.”
They sit in silence while he makes the rest of the pancakes, successfully not burning another one. He sets the plate on the center of the island, taking the seat farthest from Julie so he doesn’t crowd her. 
Thankfully the silence is cut by Robin entering the room, still half asleep and tripping over her own feet. 
“Morning,” she mutters, immediately making her way to the coffee pot. She steals a pancake on her way, eating it with her hands. 
“There’s something called a plate, you know?” he snides as she gives him the finger. 
“This one’s burnt,” she says with a slight gag. Steve hears Julie snicker and decides to let it go. 
“I called out of work.”
Robin groans. “You’re leaving me alone with Keith, Steven. Keith. He is going to stand there and watch a movie that is not appropriate for the children coming in today while eating a bag of neverending Cheetos, getting his dust all over himself and the movies, while trying to hit on me as much as he can.”
“I told you if he’s given you a problem I’ll talk to him.”
She rolls her eyes. “And get both of us fired, no thanks.”
“Or finally annoy him enough to quit.”
Robin snorts while grabbing another pancake. “Like he’ll give up his neverending movie powers.”
The front door rattles before it slams into the wall and then shuts again. “Steve,” Eddie yells into the hallway, finding his way to the kitchen. “Oh good, you’re not dead.”
“The hell did you tell him last night?”
“That you had a migraine so we canceled movie night. I said you didn’t have to come over, dumbass.”
Eddie walks up to Steve and grabs his head. “I had to make sure that this pretty little head was ok,” he says mockingly while squishing his cheeks. “Lord knows he’s hit it enough to be concerning. Ooh, pancakes.” 
He reaches over and grabs a pancake, eating it with his hands like Robin. “You both know where the plates are.”
“Why dirty a dish when I have two perfectly good hands?” It’s at this moment when Eddie finally sees Julie sitting at the island, looking way too interested in this whole interaction. “Lawson?”
“Hey, Eddie,” Julie says, slightly confused. “How’ve you been?”
Steve can see Eddie visibly trying to connect the dots. “Pretty good considering … everything. I’m sorry, what are you doing here?”
“You know Julie?” Robin asks, eating the last pancake. 
“Yeah lived down the street from me back when I lived in the trailer. How do you two know her?”
Steve glances over at Julie and sees her tense up at the question. He would feel wrong about telling someone about this without her permission, even if it is his secret now too. She looks at him and he tries to motion with his head over to Eddie as some form of a question. But when she gives him a confused glare that makes him feel like an idiot, he gives up.
He decides it’s probably better to tell him. Eddie is someone who knows how to keep a secret, and Steve trusts him. So he can know. But he definitely needs to have a conversation with Julie about how and who they want to tell about this in the future. 
If they decide to try and become some sort of friends, maybe family, that is. 
“Can I talk to you?” Steve asks standing up and ushering Eddie out of the room. 
“What the hell man? It doesn’t have to be a whole thing, I just wanted to know why she’s here.”
Steve shuts the door to the side room behind them. “Yeah, that’s what I’m about to tell you.”
Eddie looks at him confused. “Is this something serious? I thought you just adopted another high schooler.”
“Not upside down serious, but yeah kinda.” Steve takes a breath, trying not to feel weird about the way Eddie’s looking at him right now. He doesn’t have time to feel weird about two things at once. “Full disclosure, I didn’t know who Julie was until yesterday. She came to the house and told me that her mom knew my dad. She used to be his secretary, they had an affair, and then came Julie.”
Eddie’s eyes are blown as wide as they can possibly be. “Holy shit. What the fuck? I need a second. Jesus Christ. How are you not freaking out more about this right now?”
“Who says I’m not?” 
Eddie goes to sit on one of the chairs, Steve goes to take the one next to him. “You have a sister.”
“I have a sister.” Each time he says those words it becomes more of a fact than a surprise. “I have no idea what I’m doing, or how to do it. I’m trying to stay calm about everything but,” Steve takes another deep breath, still feeling like it isn’t quite enough. “My dad was a cheater, I’ve known that for a long time but this. This is a whole new angle of shit that I don’t know how to deal with.”
“How can you? Siblings don’t just come popping up out of nowhere, especially not as old as she is.” Eddie turns to look at him, tucking one of his legs underneath him. “Wayne heard about her mom from one of our old neighbors. Is that why she knows?”
Steve shakes his head. “Her mom told her sometime before the accident. She’s been in foster care ever since.”  
“You have that look on your face,” Eddie says with a soft gaze. 
“What look?”
“The look that you get when you want to help people. You want to help her.”
Steve leans back in the chair. “I do. She looked so scared when I offered to drive her back to her foster home last night. Said she didn’t like it there.”
“I was placed in foster care once before Wayne officially took me in,” Eddie admits, playing with a loose thread on his jeans. “It wasn’t the greatest. From what I’ve heard, most of the placements are pretty good, but there are some people out there who are just in it for the money and can be giant pieces of shit. I’m not saying that she’s in one of those homes, but I’m not saying she isn’t either. What I can say, is that she’s probably missing her mom a hell of a lot right now. They were really close from what I could tell, and losing someone like that hurts, a lot.”
Steve remembers Eddie mentioning once that his mom died when he was little. He never brought it up again and neither did Steve, not wanting to linger on tough topics. But even though it was so long ago, the pain is still there in his voice, just slightly. But Steve still notices it. 
He reaches across, placing his hand on top of Eddie’s. In a comforting way, not to mean anything. But Eddie still sighs a bit at the touch and turns his hand to hold Steve’s. 
“Just be patient with her, ok. She’s a good kid. Be patient with yourself too. This might not be some big alternate dimension life-changing shit, but it’s still real. You’re allowed to let yourself feel whatever you’re feeling about this.”
“You’ve been spending too much time with Robin.”
“No, I’ve been spending too much time with you. Only way to know that you think about everyone else except for yourself. Promise me you’ll take a moment to think of yourself.”
Steve squeezes Eddie’s hand. “I’ll try.”
“Not a promise, but I’ll take it.”
He figures it’s probably been long enough that they’ve left Julie alone with Robin. Not like leaving her alone with him would be better, he still knows nothing about her. But when he reenters the kitchen, Eddie follows behind him, Robin’s not there.”
“Where’d Robin go?”
“To change,” Julie says with a shrug, picking at the last of her food. 
Robin comes barreling down the stairs with her backpack, which she throws at Eddie while heading to the sink to fill her water bottle. “The fuck was that for?” Eddie asks with a wince.
“You two took too long talking, I’m late.” She downs the rest of her coffee and places her mug in the sink. “Come on, you’re taking me to work,” she shoves Eddie towards the door, not bothering to do it again when he doesn’t move that much. 
“See ya, Julie.” Eddie heads for the door, throwing Robin’s backpack over his shoulder. Steve follows him. “She looks like you. I didn’t notice that before, but she does,” he whispers to Steve while Robin puts her shoes on.
Robin gasps. “Oh my god, she does.” She stands up and grabs her bag from Eddie. “Good luck, don’t scare her off, don’t be too awkward, and just talk to her like a normal person.”
“Thanks for the advice,” he deadpans.
“Love you, dingus. Bye.” She leaves the door open for Eddie on her way out. 
Eddie stands with his hand on the doorknob before looking back at Steve. “Not to sound pushy or anything but, are we still on for later or not?”
“I’m not sure,” Steve shrugs. “Maybe, just not what we planned it to be.”
“Munson, move your ass,” Robin yells, hanging out of the passenger side car of the door. 
“I’m coming, Jesus. Call me later ok. I don’t care if we have to cancel, you have other things going on right now.”
Steve nods. “I will, promise.”
Eddie smiles at him, making Steve’s stomach do a flip he’s still not quite used to. “That you promise to, huh? Talk to you later, Steve.”
. . . 
Julie sits at the island, not quite sure why she’s still here. She’s still not exactly sure why she came here yesterday, not even fully believing the excuse she gave Steve. Sure he had a right to know that his dad had another kid. But maybe it would have been better to do it in a letter. That way he could decide if he wanted to find her, instead of her finding him. 
It’s still weird to her, that Steve Harrington was her brother. She didn’t know much about him other than school rumors. By the time she got to high school, he had already stepped out of the popularity spotlight. She remembers hearing about the King who fell, but after seeing him in person around the people he seems to be friends with, that doesn’t look like it. 
To be honest, everything she could have possibly known about him was shattered the moment Eddie Munson walked through the door. He was in her circle, not his. They would have never interacted in school. But now that she thinks about it, she remembers seeing Steve a few times at the trailer park visiting the Mayfeilds, especially around spring break. Maybe they got to know each other then. 
A part of her wants to leave, get the burden of her off of his plate. He didn’t have to know her just because they were related, neither did she. That wasn’t her plan. The plan, no matter how little she actually thought about it, was to find him, tell him, and leave. But then he had to offer to let her stay the night. 
Normally, she wouldn’t have taken it, but it was too good to give up. There was someone else in the house so it wasn’t just the two of them, and it gave her an excuse to stay away from that hell house as long as possible. And he seemed like a good person, he was nothing but nice to her so far. But nice was sometimes a facade, so she kept her guard up. 
But if Eddie Munson was his friend, maybe Julie could afford to let her guard down a little. Just a little bit. 
Steve walks back into the kitchen after walking Robin and Eddie out. “Are you done with that?” he asks, pointing to the plate in front of her. There’s a half-eaten pancake on it, even though she only grabbed two. He doesn’t say anything about it, though.
“Oh, yeah, thanks.” She slides the plate forward and he takes it away, putting it with his own in the sink.
How is she even going to go about this, getting to know him? She hates getting to know new people. Just stating the same five facts over and over again until maybe there was a similarity between them and that’s it. Is she just going to share her favorite color and leave?
Something about her doesn’t want to. Something wants to stay and try to find some sort of connection with Steve. Whether that be acquaintances or otherwise. He’s the only family she has left, and something about that fact makes her never want to leave. 
“So,” Steve starts slowly, leaning on the island. “I’m going to be honest, I’m not exactly sure where to start.”
“Me neither,” She admits, anxiously picking at her thumb. It’s a nervous habit she’s never seemed to break, sometimes picking at it enough for them to bleed. Her mom always tried to stop her but it never worked. 
Uncomfortable silence hangs in the air for what feels like forever, but is probably just a minute, maybe two. “Eddie said you lived down the street from him,” Steve says, breaking their silence. 
“Yeah, across the street and two doors down.” She tries to think of what to say, as if it has to have any meaning behind it. But maybe if they just get talking, that’s all that matters. “We didn’t talk much, just a few times at potlucks and things. But when I first got to high school, he showed me around, drove me when I missed the bus and didn’t want to walk home.”
Steve laughs. “Yeah that sounds like him. Surprised he didn’t try to ‘bring you into his flock’ or whatever he calls them.”
“He might have, but DND isn’t really my thing. I like writing my own stories, not playing in someone else’s.”
“You like to write,” Steve asks, walking around to sit on one of the chairs, turning to face her. 
Julie nods, bringing one of her legs up so she can sit on it to face him better. “Short stories, sometimes poetry, but I’m not great at making things rhyme. It’s fun.”
“That’s cool, I’ve never been good at writing like that. Or at all.”
“What were you good at? Or are, I guess.”
Slight shock quickly covers his face, like he’s surprised that she asked him a question about himself. “I used to play basketball in high school, and I was on the swim team. I was decent at best, but I liked it. One of the kids I babysit started playing basketball last year, so I’ve been playing with him sometimes. Kinda forgot how much I liked it until then.”
“You babysit, like look over other people’s kids?” She didn’t pin him as the babysitting type. 
“Well, I say babysit but it’s not really babysitting. Like, they’re old enough to take care of themselves and everything, but we’ve been through some stuff together so I like to keep an eye on them. They’re kinda like the family I wished I had.”
The family he wishes he had, said like he barely had a family at all. She thinks back to the lack of family pictures in the house. With all of this wall space, it’s weird for them to be left blank when they could be filled. Poster families are supposed to have posters showing off how good they are. But the walls, the house, stay vacant. And the way Steve talks about these kids, it seems to have been like that for a long time. 
Giant houses are nice, but empty all they do is sit there and show off the wrong type of wealth. Loneliness almost seeps through the walls when she notices the lack of life. Nothing to give it character, the only person leaving traces behind is Steve. 
Last night she was jealous that Steve could live in such a big house when she lived in a trailer. But she’d take that over and over again if it meant she wouldn’t be alone. 
“You must love them,” Julie finally says. 
Steve smiles, it’s probably the first time she’s seen it and it wasn’t fake. “As much as they annoy the hell out of me, I do.”
“Robin seemed nice.” He seems to talk more when it’s about other people, so she changes the topic to her. “You guys seem close.”
“We are. And before you ask if we’re dating, we’re not.”
“I was questioning that a little, but I thought it would be rude to ask.”
He shrugs. “People ask me it pretty much every day. One particular person specifically. You can ask me anything though, I’m pretty much an open book.”
Before she gets the chance to think of something else, someone knocks on the front door. Steve looks both confused and annoyed before he gets up to go see who it is. She hears them talking for a minute or two before Steve walks back into the room with a sorry expression, a man in a police uniform behind him. 
“Julie, this is Chief Hopper.”
“I’m here to take you back, kid,” Hopper interrupts. 
Coldness fills Julie up as she thinks about that place. Loud noises through thin walls, insults being thrown around, two kids she doesn’t know that she has to take care of. Just so Janice and Mark can get drunk off their asses from the pay and never lift a finger for anything about them. It’s only a matter of time before things get worse, she can tell. It’s the same behavior she’s seen with every boyfriend her mom has ever had. 
“I-I don’t want to.”
Hopper steps toward her and takes off his hat, placing it on the island. “I’m sure you don’t. But they are your guardians for the time being and called you in as a missing kid, so you have to go back.”
She looks over at Steve but is met with just a silent apology. That he’s giving up. She really shouldn’t be mad but she is. He let her stay because she said she didn’t like it there, and now he’s just willing to let her go back. Without a word to try and stop it. 
Getting up from the chair, making it squeak against the floor that is probably way too fucking expensive, she heads upstairs to grab her things. Feet stomping on the stairs like they have a mind of their own. She’s not even sure where the anger she feels is directed. But she can’t help to think it’s at herself for thinking she might actually be able to have some sort of family again. 
. . . 
When Julie leaves the room, Steve is just left there defeated. He tried to say something, but Hopper said there was no way out of it. She spent the night away from her foster house and they called it in, she had to go back. 
“Can you explain to me why she’s here?” Hopper asks acusingly. 
“They’d have to have told you if you knew to find her here.”
Hopper looks at the ceiling with a deep sigh. “Just told me she’d probably be here, not why. You’re not in any trouble, I know you wouldn’t try anything. So can you just please tell me why you have a random sixteen-year-old girl in your house.”
“She’s my sister,” Steve sighs. “My dad had an affair with her mom and then he paid her to keep it quiet. Julie told me everything last night.”
“Well, shit. That’s, something.”
Steve scoffs. “Yeah. Is there really no way she can stay here, even if it’s just for the rest of the day.”
“Look kid,” Hopper sighs. “I know you like to help the kids, but this is a lot different than that. Those parents trust you to look after them because they know you, these people don’t. And I’m not so sure they ever will. The fact is that you just learned about all of this yesterday and jumped into everything headfirst. Take some time, think about it.”
“I can’t just go around and pretend that none of this happened. I want to get to know her, Hop.”
“And I never said that you couldn’t. Just no more overnight stays and make sure she gets back by curfew. Don’t make me have to come back here again.”
Julie slams the door of the guest room before she comes back downstairs. Hopper gives Steve a sympathetic look before picking his hat back up and heading to the front door, Steve following after. 
“Julie, I’m sorry, I tried-,” Steve tries to explain. 
“Just save it, I know.” She looks at him with a cold glare that only fills him with shame. “Nice meeting you, Steve.” 
Hopper opens the door, letting Julie go out first. “Good luck with that,” he says before shutting the door behind him. 
. . .
October 1986, Two Weeks Prior
When Julie wakes up, her mom’s not there. Not like that’s unusual, sometimes she works early morning shifts at the diner before heading to her secretary job. She normally tells her about that, but last night she said nothing. Or maybe she did in her rush out the door to her late-night shift. 
Why would she work a late night and an early morning though? She’s never done it before. And considering the tips are shit and the pay is worse, she wouldn’t put herself through that. So where is she?
Julie checked around the trailer again, making sure the cot was still in the living room and that no one was in the bathroom. Checks outside to see if her mom’s car was there, and around back to make sure it wasn’t there either. Not a trace of her mother to be found anywhere. 
Going back into the house, she dials the number of the diner to check if her mom’s there. One waiter answers, saying he hasn’t seen her all morning. 
Worry fills Julie, this isn’t like her mom. Not anymore. She doesn’t go out at night anymore. Promising Julie that she wouldn’t. Her mom had broken a few promises in the past, but this was not one that she would. 
At least that’s what Julie hopes. 
An hour later, her mom is still nowhere to be seen. She calls the office she works at to see if she showed up for her shift, nothing. As she’s dialing 911 to see if they can go around different bars to try and find her, she hears a car pulling up in front of her trailer. Followed by two doors slamming shut. 
Her heart is beating out of her chest as she goes to answer the door when they knock, opening to find two police officers waiting there with solemn looks on their faces. 
“Hello, miss. My name is Officer Powell and this is Officer Callahan. Are you Julie Lawson, Rebecca Lawson’s daughter.?”
“Yes,” she responds with a shaky voice. 
Powell and Callahan share a glance before turning back to her. “Could we come in, we have some unfortunate news about your mom.”
Her heart drops as she lets them in, already planning to hear the worst. 
“You might want to sit down for this,” Callahan says, pulling over one of the kitchen chairs to sit in, making himself at home. 
“Last night, police were called to a motor vehicle accident scene over on Oak Street. A driver ran off the road and hit a tree. They identified her as your mom. She was rushed to the hospital, but as of this morning, we are sorry to say she passed.”
Tears flood Julie’s eyes as she tries to blink them back, but can’t. They fall down her face as her mind races to catch up to reality. The room blurs and she can’t hear anything over the beating of her own heart. She feels as if her soul has left her body, watching her from the outside instead of in. 
“We are so sorry, Julie,” Powell continues. “We have no idea how you must be feeling right now, but if you would like to talk to a counselor about this, we can help arrange that for you.”
Julie gapes, trying to say something but nothing will come out. She shuts her mouth and swallows, trying to calm herself down enough to say something. “What, what will happen to me?” she asks with a trembling voice. 
“You’ll be placed in child protective services, they’ll try and find some family for you to stay with or find you a foster home,” Callahan explains.
“We know that this is a lot for you to take in right now. But we need you to go and pack a bag. You can come back in a few days to get the rest of your things, but you need to come with us. We’ll give you some space while you pack, take as long as you need.”
“Just not too long,” Callahan interrupts. 
“Phil,” Powell sighs, glaring at him. “Don’t listen to him, take as long as you need and meet us outside when you're ready.”
Powell stands, pulling Callahan up and ushering him out of the door. He shuts it gently behind him and Julie can hear him chastizing Callahan behind it. 
Julie leans back on the couch, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, attempting not to break just there. But she does. Tears stream down her face as her breaths become labored and shaky. Her hand comes to cover her mouth as she sobs, covering up her pain. 
Her mom is gone. The only family, the only life she’s ever known. The person who was there for her no matter what. The person who knows her better than anyone else in the entire world. Taken from her without warning. 
And now Julie is left alone. 
Part 3
Tag list(let me know if you want to be added or removed): @homoerotictangerine, @mugloversonly, @thesuninyaface, @imyelenasexual, @anaibis, @ilovecupcakesandtea, @brainsteddielyrotted, @jackiemonroe5512, @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @cinnamon-mushroomabomination, @lolawonsstuff, @writingandmushroomdragons, @stevesbipanic, @sierra-violet, @steddie-as-they-go, @dauntlessdiva, @mousedetective, @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner, @zombiethingy, @connected-dots-st-reblogger, @that-agender-from-pluto, @allyricas, @cheddartreets, @devondespresso, @crypticcorvidinacottage, @queenie-ofthe-void @chronicpainstevetruther, @cheddartreets, @theupsidedownrealestateagent, @acidbubblegummie, @sirsnacksalot, @l0st-strawberry, @helpimstuckposting, @strawberry-starss, @freddykicksasses, @italianwhore1, @i-threw-my-name-out-the-window, @rageagainsttheapathy, @nuggies4life, @ape31, @whimsicalwitchm, @chrissycunninghamfanblog, @michellegilligan, @hippielittlemetalhead, @bridget-malfoy-stilinski-hale, @jaytriesstuff, @confused-stripes, @faeb1tch42069, @marklee-blackmore, @hel-spawn, @genderless-spoon, @mamafaithful, @estrellami-1, @starryeyedpoet17, @i-amthepizzaman
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greyfix · 2 years ago
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Never Again
Ship: Kirishima Eijirou/Bakugou Katsuki
Summary: Katsuki and Eijirou run into each other in the kitchen late at night. Katsuki decides to open up. Never Again would they sleep apart. 
Word Count: 1.1k
Requested By: n/a
Warnings/Tags: Insomnia,Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Bakugou Katsuki is Bad at Feelings, Bakugou Katsuki Needs a Hug, Bakugou Katsuki-centric, Supportive Kirishima Eijirou, Light Angst, Mainly Fluff, Fluff, Kirishima Eijirou is a Ray of Sunshine 
Author’s Note: I wrote this one a while back, believe it or not, while watching a hockey game. It was stuck in beta for a while though, and i had other stuff to post. You guys got any ideas for what I should do next?
Ao3,
Katsuki had gotten sick of the protein bars he kept in his room, especially after eating them almost every night when he inevitably got hungry. He hasn't been sleeping so well these days, and since the dorm eats dinner so early, he’s usually still wide awake when he’s ready to eat again. 
He had just washed his dishes and was filling up a water bottle to bring into his room when he heard footsteps. He tensed, turning off the water before freezing. He remained completely still, until the source of the noise walked into the kitchen. When he saw that messy red hair, he relaxed almost instantly.
Eijirou did a double take, “You’re still awake? I thought you’d be passed out by now.” Katsuki took a moment to answer him. He usually would be passed out by now. Normally he makes a point to go to bed only a couple hours after dinner. He even said goodnight earlier, before going back to his room for the night. But after everything that has happened lately it's just not as easy as it used to be. “I’m used to being on guard. I don’t know how to relax anymore,” is what he said when he finally spoke. 
Eijirou, who had walked to the pantry to grab a box of cereal, looked over at Katsuki in surprise. He wasn’t one to share his feelings openly, even with Kirishima.
They were silent for a while. Just continuing their tasks in silence. Eijirou was trying to be tactful with his response. He knew that if he said the wrong thing, Katsuki would just calm down. Then they wouldn’t get anywhere. Katsuki was just internally yelling at himself for actually saying that outloud. 
You fucking dumbass, you’re no better than the other extras with that mushy bullshit. He thought to himself. Externally he just closed his water bottle and sat at the kitchen island, watching Eijirou pour his milk before his cereal like an absolute heathen. 
When the silence was finally broken, it was Eijirou who initiated it. “That’s understandable,” he said in a surprisingly upbeat tone for someone who’s talking through such a big mouthful of Frosted Flakes that he should be choking. 
Katsuki raised an eyebrow, urging him to continue.
“I mean think about it,” Eijirou said after swallowing. He waved his spoon in the air, flinging milk all over the kitchen. 
This is why we have ants goddammit. Katsuki thought
Eijirou ignored the look Katsuki gave him and continued gesticulating as he talked.“Any one of us in this class could be diagnosed with PTSD, and a myriad of other things. I mean we’ve all been through trauma during LOV attacks. You, more than any of us. Plus we’re literally going through training to stay alert constantly.” Eijirou paused. “Honestly, I’m pretty sure most of us have trouble sleeping”
When Eijirou was done talking Katsuki stared at him for a long time. This is far from what he was expecting. He thought he’d just get a ‘ah dude it’s cool, you know since you were kidnapped and stuff, like a weakling’ not an actual valid answer. 
Really fucking annoying when he’s right, Katsuki thought to himself.
It was obvious that Eijirou didn’t expect Katsuki to have a response, since he kept talking. “You know, babe, you could always come to my room if you can't sleep. I know better than to suggest you stay up with the rest of us in the common room, but you could always hang in my room until I come back,” He smiled. “I’ll never turn down more quality time, and quality cuddles, with my boyfriend.”
Katsuki rolled his eyes, but only because he didn’t want to give Eijirou the satisfaction of a smile. Eijirou had this way of turning heavy things so light. He made his emotions seem so strong, yet still manageable. He made things not seem so overwhelming. Though he knew this was true, he’d never admit it outloud to Eijriou. Especially knowing that he didn’t need to, cause Eijirou already knew. 
He’d never taken comfort in someone knowing him so well. Maybe that was because the only person who had ever known him this well was Deku. Or maybe he just didn’t like opening up, and was just a very private person. Maybe both. 
“We’ll see about that,” He finally said in response to Eijirou’s offer.
 The redhead had stepped away from his cereal and walked over to the side of the island that Katsuki was sitting at. He stood right next to him before placing his big hands on Katsuki’s hips and twisting him around on the barstool so that he was facing him. He leaned close and pressed a soft, chaste kiss on Katsuki’s lips. “Come and stay with me tonight,” he was so close that Katsuki could feel the words on his lips. 
He almost sighed at the thought, but he insisted on being difficult.  “You that desperate to get me into bed? Using comforting my insomnia as a way to get into my pants?” He growled playfully.
Eijirou rolled his eyes, “You wouldn’t process any of your emotions if it wasn’t for me, babe. I deserve some cuddles. Thought i wouldn’t be opposed-” 
Katsuki interrupted him with a forceful kiss on the lips. “Shut the fuck up,” he said when he pulled away for a miniscule amount of time before getting right back to business. Nipping at eijirou’s bottom lip with his teeth, and tangling his hands in the larger boy’s hair. 
Eijirou moaned into his mouth, before pulling Katsuki to the edge of the stool so he was pressed between his legs. The kiss may have started out forceful, but when Eijirou curled his tongue into the roof of Katsuki’s mouth the boy nearly went limp, allowing Eijirou full control. 
The kiss became slow.. All of the emotions they would never talk about outloud flowing through them. This kiss wasn’t about physical need, but about emotional need. It was about Katsuki trusting Eijirou enough to spill his unfiltered thoughts to him. It was about Eijirou immediately taking him seriously and offering comfort and solutions.
“I love you,” Eijirou said through a panting breath , when he finally pulled away from Katsuki. He could feel the vibrations against his lips. They were so close.  
That’s what this kiss was about. 
They walked hand in hand back to Eijirou’s room, and that’s where they slept.
Eijirou would lay down on his back and Katsuki would curl into his side, eyes closed. They would hold each other close in comfort and happiness. In love. 
They stayed that way, in comfortable silence for a long time, before, finally, they fell asleep. 
And when they woke in the morning, they both knew that this was the best sleep they had in a long time. 
When they woke in the morning, they knew that neither of them would sleep without the other again.
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hometownrockstar · 4 years ago
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tier list of foods they'd serve to us during snack time in the before/after school program i went to as a kid
D Tier: ritz crackers (only good with cheese but they didnt give us cheese 😔), pineapple slices, popcorn, veggie straws
C Tier: animal crackers, string cheese, oatmeal (EXTREMELY rare since they can only give it to small groups of kids since it needs a microwave. only this low bc they'd never give me the green apple kind, aka the only good one), pudding cups (same as oatmeal i ONLY wanted vanilla ones but they never gavethem to me 😡 vanilla cups are S tier tho)
B Tier: graham crackers (i was that freak kid who would leave his graham crackers to soak in his cup of water till they got super mushy), wheat thins, peach slices, apple sauce, cheez-itz, those chewy grain bars with the fruit filling inside them??? (CANNOT find them on google...)
A Tier: Cereal with milk (when they brought out the snack tray with milk on it? fucking hype moment.), yogurt, sunchips, frosted mini-wheats (they gave us these without milk for some reason), choccy chip granola bars
S Tier: pear slices, gold fish, apple juice (a rare delicacy), teddy grahams (only the big kids got to have these bad boys 😏)
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fitlifecroc · 4 years ago
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11 Super and Amazing Benefits of Oat
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Oats are one of the world's healthiest grains.
They are a gluten-free whole grain that is high in vitamins, minerals, fiber, and antioxidants.
Oats and oatmeal have several health benefits, according to studies.
Weight loss, lower blood sugar levels, and a lower risk of heart disease are only a few of the benefits.
Here are nine health benefits of consuming oats and oatmeal that have been scientifically proven.
What is The Difference Between Oatmeal and Oat?
Oat groats, the most intact and whole form of oats, take a long time to cook. For this reason, most people prefer rolled, crushed or steel-cut oats.
Instant (quick) oats are the most highly processed variety. While they take the shortest time to cook, the texture may be mushy.
Whole grain oats that are cylindrical in shape and raw and unprocessed are referred to as oats. They're frequently fed to animals. Oatmeal is made from rolled oats that have been thinly sliced so that it can be cooked in a matter of minutes. They have a mushier texture.
Oats are commonly eaten for breakfast as oatmeal, which is made by boiling oats in water or milk. Oatmeal is often referred to as porridge.
They’re also often included in muffins, granola bars, cookies and other baked goods.
1. Improves Heart Health
Oats are high in antioxidants and have a high fibre content. By combating free radicals, these antioxidants help to improve heart health.
Beta-glucan, a soluble fiber found in oats, lowers total serum and LDL (bad) cholesterol levels by preventing dietary cholesterol from being absorbed in the intestine. As a result, the risk of coronary heart disease is reduced.
Oats contain dietary lignans, which protect against heart disease. [nine] Oats contain vitamin E, which helps to prevent cardiovascular disease.
2. Helps Control Weight
Let's face it, we could all use a little support now and then, but did you ever consider that oatmeal could help you lose weight? Yes, that is right! A compound in oatmeal known as -glucan reduces appetite by increasing the hunger-fighting hormone cholecystokinin, according to a report published in the October 2009 issue of "Molecular Nutrition & Food Science."
3. Athletic performance
Oatmeal is a great source of carbohydrate and protein, as well as calories and electricity. When consumed 45 minutes to 1 hour before moderate-intensity exercise, oats have been shown in scientific studies to improve metabolism and efficiency.
4. Improves Bone Health
Oats are high in silicon, which is important for bone health.
Women with postmenopausal osteoporosis may profit greatly from consuming oats on a regular basis.
5. Helps you Sleep
Oatmeal has been ingrained in us as a breakfast snack, but it is also a good option before bedtime. In reality, the Scottish advise eating a bowl of oatmeal in the evening to help you relax and fall asleep.
What makes oatmeal a nice bedtime snack? According to Dr. Oz, oats contain melatonin and complex carbohydrates, which may help more tryptophan get into the brain and aid sleep. Oatmeal also contains a number of vitamins, including B6, which is a co-factor that helps the brain produce more serotonin.
6. Improves disease-fighting Immunity
Oatmeal's function in the immune system's response to disease and infection has been extensively researched. In essence, oatmeal's special fiber, beta-glucan, aids neutrophils in getting to the site of an infection faster and enhancing their capacity to kill the bacteria they encounter.
7. Stabilizes Blood Sugar
What exactly does this imply? We've all had a "sugar crash" or "mid-morning slump" after a big meal or sugary breakfast; however, this doesn't happen as much with oatmeal. Oatmeal's sugar is released more slowly into the bloodstream due to its high soluble fiber content (aka, it has a low glycemic index). Steel cut oats, as opposed to instant oats, would have a greater effect on blood sugar stabilization since they are less refined and thus contain more soluble fiber. Another advantage is that it takes longer to absorb, so you'll stay fuller for longer.
One of the best advantages of oatmeal is its low glycemic index. In reality, one study published in the Journal of Clinical Nutrition found that eating a low-glycemic-index diet is linked to lower insulin resistance, metabolic syndrome, type 2 diabetes risk, and coronary artery disease risk than eating a high-glycemic-index diet.
8. Energy Booster
Oats are high in carbohydrates, making them an excellent breakfast option. Another factor oats increase energy levels in the body is that they contain a lot of B vitamins. [page 24]
Because of the high fiber content, oats keep you feeling fuller for longer and help you avoid energy slumps.
9. Lowers Risk of Colon Cancer
Colon cancer is dreadful and can be excruciatingly painful. Researchers from the United Kingdom and the Netherlands combined their findings to show that people who consume a high fiber diet (mainly whole grains and cereals including oats) had a lower risk of colorectal cancer. This research included nearly 2 million people and discovered that adding 10 grams of fiber to one's diet reduces one's risk of colorectal cancer by 10%!
10. Antioxidany Function is Enchanced
Oatmeal is high in avenanthramides, a form of antioxidant found only in oats. Antioxidants are necessary because they protect your cells from free radicals, which are molecules that your body produces as a result of metabolism and exposure to toxins in the environment. Since free radicals are unstable, they boost the risk of cancer and heart disease.
Avenanthramides antioxidants reduce inflammation and increase nitric oxide production, which prevents artery hardening. In reality, a study published in 2010 in the journal "Nutrition and Cancer" found that avenanthramides in oats inhibited colon cancer cell spread.
Finally, it's important to understand that oatmeal comes in a variety of flavors. Oat Bran, Rolled Oats, Steel Cut Oats, Oat Groats, and other types of oats are available. They all have different flavors, nutritional values, and cooking times, in my opinion. Steel cut oats are often recommended for health reasons because they are higher in protein, iron, and fiber, and therefore take longer to digest, allowing you to stay fuller for longer. If you're pressed for time in the morning, fast oats are a good option.
11. Good for The Skin
Oats are high in zinc, which is beneficial in the fight against pimples.
Oats aid in the absorption of excess oil on the skin and are an important component of acne treatments. They also aid in the treatment of dry and itchy skin because beta-glucans moisturize the skin.
Oats can also help to lighten the skin tone by acting as an anti-tanning agent.
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what-is-your-plan-today · 4 years ago
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CSI Rogers and Barnes: The Serious Cereal Serial Killer Episode 16: Is This Thing Rolling...
Co-written with @icanfeelastormbrewing​
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Part 1
Summary: Having figured out previously where Rumlow has taken Katie, it’s now a race against time for The 4 Avengers to reach her before it’s too late. Armed with…yeah…ok, actually, we’ll let you read that bit because frankly this entire chapter is ridiculously fun!!!
Warnings: Bad Language words.
Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark
A/N:  LONG update here guys so we split it into 2 for you to read as you wish. I know we said Episode 15 was the penultimate chapter but we had too much to cram in so…THIS is the Penultimate chapter! Episode 17 will be the last, followed by an Epilogue.
Anyway, enjoy!!!
Chapter Song: Everything by Michael Buble  
CSI R&B Masterlist  // Main Masterlist 
You’re a falling star, you’re the getaway car, you’re the line in the sand when I go too far. You’re the swimming pool on an August day and you’re the perfect thing to see.
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Almost two and a half months after the unit cracked the case of the Serious Cereal Serial killer, as Thor had coined it one morning while watching Bucky scarf down a bowl of oatmeal at such a rate that he almost choked on it, everything seemed to be fitting into place. 
Rumlow and Wanda were rotting in jail. The former had been taken to a prison of maximum security in another county where he had been isolated while he waited for his trial to take place, whereas Wanda had been taken to the female wing, called Nidavellir, at the Nine Realms prison.
Katie had been back at the 99 for almost two months now and was working hand in hand with Peralta, which had given Santiago some relief as Katie was able to appease her husband’s excited and unorthodox methods. Gina had also been back at the 99 full time since another police technician, Scott Lang, previously in charge of the switchboard, had been appointed by Fury as the new Captain’s assistant at the 101st. To say he had been star-struck by the most famous police Captain in the NYPD would be an understatement, wringing Steve’s hand up and down for what felt like 5 minutes.
All in all Steve and Katie were doing well. They were in a happy domestic arrangement. She had moved in with Steve the moment Tony and Pepper had set a date for the wedding, even before she was taken by Rumlow after they had cracked the case and well before she decided to finish her secondment in DC and come back to Brooklyn permanently. And two months later she had given up pretending it was a temporary arrangement.
In fact, one Sunday morning while they were cuddling on the sofa, after an exhausting night and an invigorating breakfast, Katie had shyly asked Steve what he would think if she said she didn't want to find her own place but stay with him till they both found a place of their own. Steve had then flashed her a smile that would have lit up all of Brooklyn on a blackout night and had kissed the life out of her before commenting on how that would be everything a man could ask for. Earning another blinding smile from Katie and a groan from Bucky who, as usual, had shown up from nowhere when he was least expected and headed for the kitchen mumbling something about being fed up of mushy remarks and having to get better ear plugs to avoid having to go to therapy.
This particular Saturday morning, Katie was slumped over the breakfast bar in the kitchen, suffering from the mother of all hangovers after returning from Pepper’s bachelorette party in the small hours. And she was whimpering like a dog when Steve slid a plate of toast and an orange juice over to her.
"You need to eat something, doll."
"Trust me, I really don’t." she said, her voice muffled by the arm that was supporting her head.
Steve was trying to be sympathetic, he really was, but he was also having a hard time simply keeping himself from laughing. Frankly, the whole scene was hilarious. She had been in a right state when she had got home and he’d had to put her to bed once she had finished puking and he had arrested and cuffed her pumps for murdering her feet as per Katie’s request. So he let out a soft chuckle and she groaned as she squinted up at him.
"You know, it’s so not fair." she said blinking at the kitchen lights which felt like piercing her eyes.
"What isn’t?" Steve asked as he poured himself some coffee.
"I came home looking like a raccoon with my make-up smeared all over…and you…" she said as she waved her hand up and down his body "you still looked gorgeous even with that black eye."
"I’m surprised you can remember anything about what you or I looked like last night."
"When I go get my eyelashes done, remind me to take a photo of yours to show the beauty therapist what I want." she continued her ramblings ignoring his comment just before her head fell back on her arms.
Steve watched her and snorted.
"Don’t laugh at me." she whined, her voice once again muffled by her arms.
"I’m not. I’m trying to decide whether you’re still drunk or hungover." he said while he took a seat on the stool next to her.
"Trust me, this is 100% hangover…" she said peeking up at him. “How are you not even remotely ill?"
Steve rolled his eyes as if the answer couldn't have been any simpler. “I didn’t drink enough to be hungover. I know my limits."
"Hmmm yeah, not enough to avoid getting into a bar brawl." And just as she said it her eyes flicked to the bruise along his left cheekbone and eye socket. She sat up to trail her fingers gently over it. "You gonna tell me the full story about what happened?"
"I already told you before Doll, it was some drunken punk in a bar picking a fight. I had to put him in his place, that’s all." 
"Yeah, and he put your eye in a dark place from the looks of it." she jabbed at him.
"Trust me, he ended up far worse."
Steve saw her watching him and he tried to hold her gaze as best he could, working on keeping his face straight. But it was proving hard work seeing as he was the worst of liars, he always had been. For a moment he thought she was gonna argue but she didn’t, whether she believed him or was simply too hungover to bother pulling him up on it he had no idea. He was just grateful she didn't.
"Sure he did. Anyway, what are you and your black eye doing today?" she asked.
"I’m on groomsman duty, my suit was a little short last time I tried it on so Tony wants to make sure it fits.” He replied, thankful of the change of subject, trying to sound as casual as possible, when a sudden idea came to him. “Hey, how about we head to Ma’s for lunch? I can meet you there? That is if you feel better later. You got anything else planned, baby?"
Katie reached for the orange juice before answering "Yeah, lying on the couch waiting for death to come and take me."
Steve chuckled and leaned over to press a gentle kiss to her temple but he saw her flinch as Bucky made his accustomed loud entrance in the kitchen.
"Hey doll face..." he trailed off as he looked at her, taking in her appearance and then snorted."Yikes, not looking very doll face today."
"Die Barnes" she bit back at him.
"Gladly Stark, but before I leave this world remember you promised to help me find my suit for your brother’s wedding today." Bucky informed her, a side smile on his face and his arms crossed over his chest.
Katie then stilled "That was today?" she asked with a croaky voice.
"Yup." Bucky said and headed to the fridge to fetch some milk. "And seeing as his wedding is next week we are running out of time."
"Fuck my life." Katie groaned as Bucky poured some cereal into a bowl. "Can’t you ask anyone else? My head is killing me and I can’t feel my feet thanks to being in those ridiculous heels all night…"
"Not happening." Bucky shook his head. "Sam has some reports to finish today, but says he will join us later, and I need a woman’s advice."
"Well I don’t feel like being a woman today, Buck. Have some mercy." she said in a pleading tone, earning a chuckle from Steve who was amusingly watching the interaction while he munched his breakfast.
"Maybe I would if you hadn’t sent me the video of the stripper." Bucky took the big guns out.
Suddenly Steve spluttered on his coffee "What?"
"I thought you might enjoy it." she shrugged. "Anyway, I only did that because it was that Gemini Flannagan dude you told me about."
"Gemini Flannagan…huh, no shit?" Steve said as he dried a few coffee drops that had landed on the breakfast bar with a paper towel.
"Wanna see?" Bucky asked him with a grin. 
"No, why the fuck would I want to see that?" Steve frowned, visibly disgusted.
"Because in the background to all the thrusting and gyrating dearest Gemini is doing, there’s a very interesting conversation going on between your lovely girl here and Natasha where Stark is clearly saying, and I’m paraphrasing here, that his cock is nothing to write home about because yours is bigger."
At that point Katie could only groan and hide her head in her hands. 
But Bucky continued as he was having a ball "... and for the record, punk, if that’s true, I don’t know how you stand up straight." And just like that he took a spoonful of cereal and watched the pair of them. 
Steve was sure he was flushing, he could feel his ears and neck burning but he was also a bit smug, well ok, not a bit, he was full on smug. That most certainly was not a bad thing for his girl to be crowing about…
And then it suddenly hit him what Bucky had said.
"Hang on…he was naked? Like…did he strip?” Katie rolled her eyes and Bucky smiled at Steve's naivety "Clue's in the name…STRIPPER. Duh." she said.
“Like he was completely naked?”
“Well not completely, no.” Katie said, “He had this little leather thong pouch type thing covering his, crotch, but it was tight enough not to leave anything to the imagination.”
"You know, if you ever get tired of chasing bad guys there’s a gig there. You already have the uniform." Bucky told his friend as he munched his cereal.
Steve, who was now bright red, tilted his head at him. "Buck, just don’t."
Bucky smiled and decided to let it go but then he saw Katie looking at Steve and a wicked smile flicked across her face.
"Can you strip for me, Captain?" she asked suggestively.
Steve groaned and stood up, still flushing. "Just eat your toast and take a painkiller. I’m going for a shower."
"I love it when you put on your Captain's voice…" she purred, which did nothing to stop Steve’s blush, quite the contrary. And he rolled his eyes, trying to maintain a straight face as she continued "Are you stripping to get in the shower, Captain?"
Bucky laughed loudly as Steve sighed and looked him. "Keep her out of trouble, punk." He ordered.
"I’m not some mischief making teenager, Steve." she protested.
"Then stop acting like one." Steve said sternly, hands on his hips and it didn’t pass him by that he was really adopting his Captain stance.
"Says the man with the black eye." she glared at him and Bucky sniggered.
"I’m going for a shower now. Behave with uncle Bucky sweetheart." he said, winking an eye at her. And as he turned to leave Katie threw the toast from her plate at him but missed completely and it ended up on the kitchen's floor by the door.
"Fuck you, Rogers." she shouted in frustration.
They heard Steve's laughter die down as the bathroom door shut.
"We don’t play with food, little miss." Bucky mock scolded Katie as he picked the toast up off the floor.
"You can piss off too."
Bucky laughed, now she was being a brat. "Sorry, but you’re cute when you’re angry and hungover."
"Is that supposed to be a compliment?" she frowned at him.
"A James Buchanan Barnes original, yes."
"Well, given how I look and feel this morning, I’ll take it."  She breathed in and nodded behind him. "Pass me the Advil, will ya Buck?"
"Sure, doll face." he said as he reached into the cupboard over the sink and tossed the packet down on the breakfast bar. "Take a few, I need you at your best this morning."
"Just my luck." she said, taking the painkillers from the packet.
Bucky chuckled and poured himself a coffee. "Blame your brother, if he had chosen me as a groomsman, I’d have my suit sorted now."
Katie snorted and tossed the pills into her mouth, taking a gulp of orange juice and swallowing. 
"I mean, I get why Rhodes is his best man, like they’ve been friends forever but Rogers, Wilson and Banner as ushers, really? What about me?"
Katie looked at him "You really don’t want me to answer that, do you?"
"What you trying to say?" Bucky asked, not understanding why his question was so odd.
"Brucie and Sam are his closest friends at work and Steve’s…"
"The guy fucking his sister." he cut her off.
Katie narrowed her eyes "I was gonna say his Captain, ass hole."
Bucky simply grinned at her over his coffee mug. He loved their little bickering moments.
***** Steve pulled up outside Tony’s and headed up to the door of the large brownstone terraced house. He sighed as he rang the bell. He had been sure about this but now he didn't know if he was anymore. Anyways, he was already there and he'd better roll with it. 
"Oh hey Rogers, wasn’t expecting you." Tony greeted him as he opened the door.
"Hi Tony."
"Eurgh, that black eye looks worse now than it did last night. What did Katie say?" he said pointing at Steve's face
"Nothing much. I told her it was just some drunken ass hole causing a scene. She doesn’t need to know anything else." he shrugged.
Tony arched an eyebrow at him "Ooh, Captain straight lace telling lies."
"It’s not a lie, just not the whole truth." Steve explained with a smile. 
He had begun to take a liking at Tony's teasing, as long as it wasn't too personal that is. But he had to concede since they had rescued Katie from Rumlow the scientist had toned down his little jabs at the Captain. 
"Whatever, your funeral when she finds out."  Tony brushed Steve's explanations off with a wave of his hand. "And speaking of my sister, where is she?"
"Shopping with Bucky…complete with one hell of a hangover." 
"Yeah Pepper ain't much better. Made her one of my miracle beverages. Looked worse on the way back up, which is saying something…Come on in." 
Tony stepped back and let Steve into the tiled hallway, shutting the door behind him. He led the way, taking him through to the kitchen and Steve caught a glimpse of the living room when they stopped at the door.
"Pepper's on the sofa... dying. Probably best we leave her to it." Tony explained when he saw Steve was looking in her direction.
Steve smiled and nodded as Tony looked at him. "So Kiddo is shopping with a hangover? Bet she loved that." he scoffed.
"Well, you know her…never one to let someone down when she’s promised something. Bucky needs a suit for the wedding so…" 
"Oh, shit, yeah…er…let me warn you, I was in the middle of a thing with our wedding planner." 
Steve paused and turned to face him, raising an eyebrow "What do you mean?"
Tony had never been one for warnings, he just let people draw conclusions by allowing them to dive in head first. He just sat back and enjoyed the ride.
"You’ll see." Tony said before heading into the kitchen.
Steve frowned, there was not a spark of wickedness in Tony's brown eyes when he uttered those words as he would have expected. Instead Steve could feel the exasperation in his voice.
"Steve this is Grandmaster, our wedding planner. Grandmaster this is Steve Rogers, my sister’s boyfriend." 
Steve looked at Tony, mouthing Grandmaster?  What kind of fucking name was that? he thought. Tony didn't bother answering. Instead, he merely took out his glasses and rolled his eyes, a gesture Steve knew only too well to mean ‘don’t ask’ as it was identical to the one Katie made.
"Nice to meet you, Steve Rogers…you’re a lucky man." the man suddenly spoke.
"Sorry, I’m not…I don’t…what?" Steve was utterly confused and finished a little lamely. His brain was having a hard time registering the wedding planner's flamboyant appearance. He was wearing a sparkly golden jacket even Bucky would have sworn off in the 80s. But his greying spiky hair and blue eyeliner combination was what had Steve floundering for words. Then, what the man had said registered and he frowned. “Lucky man?”
"Your girlfriend, Tony’s sister, I met her at the dress fitting a few weeks ago. She’s an exquisite little thing." Grandmaster explained softly.
"Oh, err, yeah… yes she is. Thank you.”
Steve saw Grandmaster bat his eyelashes at him as if to acknowledge his words. He looked at Tony once more, utterly dumbfounded. Tony simply shook his head in a just roll with it gesture and Steve suddenly realised exactly why Tony had issued a warning.
He then looked at the large table which was adorned with bits of paper, one of which looked like a seating plan, and suddenly he felt like he was intruding. 
"Look, if this is a bad time I can come back…"
"Oh, no, Anthony and I were just discussing the brunch…" Grandmaster explained and grinned at Tony.
"For the last time, it’s a Reception, idiot." Tony hissed.
"No, can you…you know I don’t like that word." Grandmaster shook his head, cringing.
"What? Idiot."
"No, the…why would I not like the word idiot? I mean the R word."
Steve stood there, watching the exchange between the two men, his mouth hanging open in confusion. That Greatmaster was certainly a greater piece of work than Tony, which was saying something. Or was it Grandmaster? Whatever...
Tony let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. "It’s not a brunch, it's an afternoon... you know what? Fine. The post wedding meal."
"Ok, better." Grandmaster grinned again at him.
Steve now understood why Tony had done nothing but moan about this guy for the last few months. He was clearly a fucking sandwich short of a full picnic.
"As for the seating…just do whatever. I don’t much care." Tony conceded, visibly fed up. There's only so much a man can take after all.
"Alright, seeing as Miss Potter is not available, I’ll work on this later and email it over." the man agreed.
"It’s Miss Potts." Tony practically growled and Steve could see he was about to lose it.
"She’s more open to my ideas than you are Anthony." the wedding planner observed, not in the least fazed by his client's angry tone.
Tony stared at him, blinking. His mouth hanging slightly open in a look Steve had seen only a handful of times before, when something had rendered him speechless, which was no mean feat, before the scientist took a deep sigh. 
"Whatever."
And just like that Grandmaster moved graciously around the table. Steve watched him as he gathered his papers up and popped them into a leather briefcase. He then fastened it with a click and looked at Tony. 
"By the way, it smells in here…burnt toast I think.”
"Yeah, well I like my bread well done." Tony's voice was deadpan and Steve snorted as Grandmaster nodded with a smile. The guy had no idea Tony was literally making fun of him to his face.
"Alright, guess I’ll be leaving now. Bye, Anthony. Nice to meet you Mr Stevenson."
Steve's brain had not quite registered the man's name mixed-up when he heard Tony hiss through gritted teeth "It’s Rogers." He was literally lost for words. So when Grandmaster left the room Tony looked at him. 
"Don’t mind him, took him some time until he stopped calling me Mr Starch. That’s why I don’t rip his tongue out for calling me Anthony."
"Yeah erm…where on Earth did you find him?"
“I’m not actually sure he’s from Earth.” Tony mumbled before he shook his head. “He was some acquaintance of Banner. Thor knew him too. He runs a company called Sakaar. They deal with events planning. And orgies, apparently." Tony explained, rubbing his temples.
Steve thought Tony had aged a decade in the ten minutes he had been dealing with his wedding planner and gave them a sympathetic smile just before his brain registered the last part. "What?"
"Don’t ask." Tony said before clapping his hands together. "Anyway, what can I do for you, Cap? You want a coffee or…?
"No thanks, I’m good."  Steve cleared his throat. With all the Grandmaster dude shenanigans he had forgotten the real purpose of his visit and suddenly he could feel his palms were sweaty with nerves.  "I... err... wanted to talk to you alone. There’s this thing I’ve been meaning to ask you…"
Tony arched his eyebrow. "Me?"
"Yes." Steve replied way too fast. "I mean, I wanted to ask you before I ask her…"
"Her? Are you talking about Katie?"
Steve lowered his head and sighed "Yes."
"Oh, I see what’s going on." Tony said leaning against the counter, folding his arms.
"You do?" Steve asked, lifting his head up and looking at him shyly.
"No thanks to you, you’re a mess Rogers." Tony said, a gentle smile curling on his lips. "Come with me."
Steve frowned before following him "Tony, I…"
"Trust me, I have something to show you." Tony stopped and turned to look at him with a soft smile.
Steve took a breath and followed him. They headed down the hall then up the stairs and into Tony's study. Once there Steve saw Tony sit on his desk chair and begin tapping on the keyboard. Just as the screen sprang to life Tony explained.  "See dad had a thing for recording videos, kind of like pep talks for the future." He pressed a few buttons more and moved the mouse before continuing. "After the one he recorded for that old journalist Mr Lee, well it got me thinking there had to be more. So I started searching through his old archives and among other things, I found something I think you’ll find interesting."
Steve frowned "What do you mean?"
Tony looked at him for an instant before looking back at the screen and smiled as he selected a file. "Lets just say my dear old pop was a visionary…"
Steve looked at him, he had no idea what the fuck was going on. Tony stood up and motioned for Steve to take his place on the desk chair 
"Just watch this, then you can ask me what you wanted to ask me."
He leaned over Steve to click another button and the screen suddenly displayed Howard, perched on his desk, scotch in hand. Steve felt a shiver running down his spine.
"Is this thing rolling?" Howard asked the person behind the camera as he swirled his glass around. 
 "Yeah, it’s on…" a voice from off screen confirmed.
"Alright…" Howard took a swig of scotch and cleared his throat. "Tony…congratulations on being the only person I know who is nosey enough and clever enough to crack into my archives…anyway, if you’re watching this it means something has happened to me before I got the chance to tell you all this in person so…."
Steve watched as Tony pressed a key to fast forward the recording a bit, he was winding to find something, before he stopped and the screen showed Howard giving a chuckle and taking another mouth of scotch.
"So yeah, there’s always a secret door." he said before taking a deep breath. "Now I want you to show this next bit to Rogers."
Steve’s eyes widened and he felt his heart start beating fast.
"Steve, you’re like a second son to me, you know that. I hope you’re doing well. I have no doubt you’ve made Captain by now, possibly even Commissioner, depending on how old this recording is. Not too old I hope. Anyway, I digress. I’m willing to bet you’ve cracked a few big cases too."
Steve gulped as he watched his old mentor continue to talk to him through the screen. He couldn't even tear his eyes from the screen to see Tony's reaction.
"Good job son. Now, onto something far more important to me. I hope you and my princess have realised by now you’re made for each other, because I already know you are."
Steve’s breath caught in his throat, his heart was now pounding.
"So if you’re watching this, and you’ve finally figured that out, then I’m giving you my blessing son. If you haven’t figured it out, then you’re a pair of dumbasses." Howard groaned at the last part and Steve gave a soft snort of laughter, shaking his head. "I’d be over the moon knowing you two have finally realised what has been in front of you for the past god knows how long."
"10 fucking years…" Tony mumbled from where he was leaning against a bookcase behind Steve, arms crossed and his right hand covering his mouth and jaw.
Howard then swallowed a little and wiped at his eye as he looked down at his feet taking a deep breath, clearly emotional, before he looked back up.
"Just look after her, treat her well and make her happy. I’m trusting you with one of my most treasured accomplishments son. And I only wish I could be there to walk her down the aisle to hand her over to the person I’d trust her with over anyone." Howard smiled and then thought about something a moment before he continued. “Just don’t try to understand her.” Howard shrugged “Because the minute you think you know what’s going on inside a woman’s head is the moment you’re goose is cooked.”
At that he sat up straight, slipping back into the Howard Steve knew all too well and looked at the camera.
"Ok, you can stop that thing now…" Steve heard him say before the screen went blank.
The room fell silent and Steve swallowed, trying to digest what he had just seen. The lump in his throat felt like a damned golf ball. Seeing his old mentor, his girl’s dad like that, in such an unguarded way had really made him emotional. When he recovered a bit he turned to look at Tony, who was in turn looking at him, and saw his eyes were misting over slightly. "What was it you wanted to ask?"
Steve chuckled "You still gonna make me say it?"
"Humour me Rogers, I like to see you squirm." Tony teased him, regaining his composure.
Steve took a deep breath before speaking, hoping his voice would come out as steady as possible given the circumstances.
"Tony, I’m gonna ask Katie to marry me. And it would mean the world to me, if I had your blessing."
Tony smiled and looked at his feet before he glanced back up "Then you got it, Steve."
Steve felt a feeling of relief wash over him, the fact he had used his name, for the first time in years, and not some stupid nickname didn’t pass him by. He smiled widely as Tony extended his hand, before he pulled him into a brotherly hug. 
 “Scotch?” Tony asked him as he pulled back.
Steve nodded, smiling widely. "Absolutely."
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CONTINUED IN PART 2
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ardenskyedarcy221b · 5 years ago
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someone eats the last of the beloved cereal and it starts world war three at the breakfast table?? UMMMM hot summer day at the lake house?? Peter being obsessed with fire and almost burning down the lake house when they have a campfire?? anything at all w Peter being allergic to bug ??? ALL OF THE ABOVE lol this is a disaster of a prompt but I hope it gets the muse going!!
You asked for it: here comes the chaos!!!!
read and leave kudos on AO3
“All I want are s’mores!” he cries, following after Tony’s retreating back with all the gusto of tailing a criminal. “Just say yes and I’ll stop asking!”
“That’s not how this works,” drolls Tony, not bothering to crane his neck backward as he speaks. “Between you and the other four year old of the place, I’m strong in the face of unrelenting pleas.”
“Please.”
“No.”
Peter pouts, pulling out a pitiful, “Please, Tony?” from the depths of his soul. 
A pause. 
Peter doesn’t bother taping back his growing, victorious smirk since Tony’s back is still toward him. But the older man has stopped at the kitchen island, lunch plates forgotten before him, shoulders tensing up just a smidge, and Peter knows the signs of a crumbling empire. 
Then there’s a sigh. 
“A supervised campfire this evening. Morgan can stay up past her bedtime—“” 
“YES!”
“—but only if it’s Pepper approved.”
As much as Pepper Potts-Stark likes to feign the stern parent act, she’s as mushy for Peter and Morgan as her husband. Peter knows exactly what needs to be done in order to get Pepper’s approval. 
He spins on his heel, making for the stairs and shouts out for his little sister, 
“Hey, Momo! D’ya wanna take a selfie with me?”
He immediately garners her attention as he hears Morgan toss down whatever she was using and her thunderous footsteps racing from her bedroom toward the top of the stairs, screeching out a resounding, 
“YES!”
Tony groans from the bottom level. 
Peter grins unabashedly, swinging Morgan up into his arms and cuddles her close. 
“I think we need to send some pictures to Mom, whadda say?”
“Yes yes yes!”
Peter wanders into Morgan’s bedroom and plops down onto her rug, easing his back against her abandoned art table. 
“Dress up or regular selfie?”
Morgan tilts her head, brown eyes flicking toward the ceiling in thought. After a couple beats, she jumps in excitement and declares, “Regular selfies but I wanna wear a tiara!”
Peter nods, “Awesome! Go grab your purple tiara and come back over here, alright?”
She runs off as he pulls out his cell phone. 
Before long, Morgan is situated on his lap and Peter has his camera facing both of them. They take an obscene amount of pictures because Morgan likes to direct them on different poses. She’s rather bossy as she says to go between serious to silly to posing like they are Iron Man but Peter rolls with her assertions. 
“Guess what?” 
“Mmmm, what?!”
“Dad said that we can have a bonfire tonight!”
“AWESOME!” squawks Morgan, jumping from his lap, no longer interested in helping send the perfect picture to her mother and more interested in jumping onto her bed and bouncing. 
“Morguna!”
Morgan pretends she does not hear her father’s call of her name, bouncing until her tiara sits askew and even then continues showing her exuberance. 
Peter sends Pepper an adorable picture of two massively grinning faces with the message: Tony says we can have a bonfire tonight with your approval. 
Within moments, Pepper sends hearts for the picture and responds with a planning on catching anything on fire again?
Peter replies back with a no along with the angel emoji. 
In the end, Pepper gives her approval. 
Peter sweeps Morgan off her bed mid-jump, both of them squealing and laughing in high pitches, as he runs them back out of her room and races down the stairs. 
Tony hollers, “Lunch is ready, my two monsters!”
At the back of his mind, Peter feels for Tony having to wrangle both him and Morgan around for the remainder of the afternoon. Then again, he isn’t too concerned about it because despite his minor attempts acting indifferent, Tony is just as excited. 
“Let’s go collect wood from behind Gerald’s pin, shall we?” suggests Tony sometime after four, corralling them out of the garage after their latest volcano experiment finished and back into the late afternoon sun. 
“For the campfire?” asks Morgan, skipping behind her father, swinging her arms rather erratically. 
“Yeppers little Pepper.”
Morgan giggles then bolts on ahead to shower the family alpaca with her undivided attention. 
Now with little ears out of shot, Tony rounds on Peter, 
“Turn out your pockets.”
“What? Why!” 
“It’s like house arrest but I gotta make sure you’re not carrying a lighter on you.”
“That’s lame,” but Peter turns out his pockets anyways, knowing that he isn’t carrying anything incriminating on him. “Happy now, Mister Worrywart?”
Tony sniffs, remains silent, then proceeds to dump several logs into Peter’s arms several moments later. “Go on and be helpful, Mister Menace.”
“That’s enough from you, old sport.”
“I still know how to use a repulsor, Mister Gatsby.” 
“Oooh, I’m quivering! I’m gonna be hunted down by Iron Dad himself because of his unsinkable crush of Leo DiCaprio.” 
Tony breaks first and snorts out his laughter. His father figure swats at Peter, though the teenager dodges the motion with ease of a pirouetting spider vigilante.
“I’m laughing at you, you goon! And mildly offend my kid keeps calling me old!” 
“So your infatuation with Mister DiCaprio has nothing—”
“Begone, you!” chuckles Tony. 
Peter shuffled away, beaming in triumph all the way to their designated fire pit. He can’t help tossing over his shoulder, “It IS a little weird both you and Pepper have a thing for him—" 
Only Tony doesn’t allow Peter to finish his train of thought all the way: a twig is tossed at his back and Peter finally lets go of their teasing. 
Serves Tony right, though, Peter thinks as logs fall from his arms into the unlit fire pit, see if he teases me about Kristen Bell again. 
However; knowing their relationship, Peter anticipates the new game of teasing each other about passed celebrity crushes will continue on until something new takes hold. It’s just how they are, really.
By the time Colonel Rhodes makes an appearance, bearing graham crackers and marshmallows (both mini AND jumbo sized!) and Hersey’s milk chocolate bars, Tony’s had to send Morgan inside to change clothes seeing as how she somehow ended up with Gerald’s bucket all down her front, and Peter takes the opportunity to greet Rhodey without the prying eyes of their best friend. 
“How’d you get him to agree to a bonfire so soon after last month’s incident?” prefaces Rhodey, raising an inquisitive brow at Peter. 
“Puppy eyes and Pepper.”
“Works like a charm every single time.”
They high five. 
As the sun sinks lower on the horizon, Pepper arrives home and Tony declares the start of their activities. Rhodey grills the burgers as Tony assists Morgan with making hot dogs over the fire. Pepper tugs Peter inside in order to grab paper plates, napkins, and condiments, and Peter obeys because he wants to keep Pepper on his side for as long as possible. 
But the way she keeps glancing over at him makes Peter realize she knows he’s got an ulterior motive up his sleeve. 
Best to ask for forgiveness and all that jazz.
Peter waits for the perfect opportunity. Ideally, it’s after dinner and either right as Pepper takes Morgan in for bed or his little sister is further away from the chaos. No matter what, Peter wants to keep Morgan safe. Tony has loosened up with his own hawk eyes making sure Peter behaves himself, but his wife hasn’t. Rhodey continues to throw encouraging head nudges. 
There’s only so much Peter can take before he gives into the pressure. 
Morgan fell asleep on Pepper ten minutes beforehand and Tony is whispering to his wife who should take the little girl up to bed. His two pseudo parents distracted, finds Rhodey turning to Peter and says, 
“I double dog dare you to throw gasoline into the fire.”
Peter turns to the other man and professes, “Coward. Make it a triple dare and I’ll do it hanging upside down from that branch over there.” and he points to a semi-sturdy looking tree branch. 
Rhodey snorts, shakes his head, and corrects his offer. “I triple dog dare you to throw gasoline into the fire.” 
And then he slips him a small, red bottle. 
Peter has to bite his lip from laughing. He swipes the loot out of Rhodey’s grip and stands up, slowly moseying over toward the tree he now needs to climb. 
Too bad Tony’s got tingling dad senses tonight. Peter doesn’t even make it halfway to the tree before he’s stopped in his tracks. 
“Peter Benjamin, that better not be gasoline in your hands.”
“Uh—”
“And you sure as hell better not being thinking about climbing that tree.”
“It’s for the aesthetic?”
Rhodey snorts behind him. 
“Don’t you think the loss of your eyelashes and eyebrows was enough of a lesson for you, hmm?” Tony’s voice comes closer as Peter’s shoulders sag in defeat. 
“But I like the whoosh!” whines Peter. 
Tony snatches the gasoline outta his hands. “And I like my kids in one piece.” 
What a low blow, Peter muses, not bothering to hide his amusement in the dark. All the same he says, as he spins around, “I’m pretty sure I’m flame retardant anyways, being part-spider.” 
Tony sputters. 
And really, Peter just likes to mess with Tony any way he can. 
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fitnesslive · 4 years ago
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• The oat, sometimes called the common oat, is a species of cereal grain grown for its seed, which is known by the same name.
• While oats are suitable for human consumption as oatmeal and oat milk, one of the most common uses is as livestock feed. Oats are associated with lower blood cholesterol when consumed regularly.
• Oats are among the healthiest grains on earth.
• They’re a gluten-free whole grain and a great source of important vitamins, minerals, fiber and antioxidants.
• Oats are a whole- grain food, known scientifically as Avena sativa.
• Oat groats, the most intact and whole form of oats, take a long time to cook. For this reason, most people prefer rolled, crushed or steel-cut oats.
• Instant (quick) oats are the most highly processed variety. While they take the shortest time to cook, the texture may be mushy.
• Oats are commonly eaten for breakfast as oatmeal, which is made by boiling oats in water or milk. Oatmeal is often referred to as porridge.
• They’re also often included in muffins, granola bars, cookies and other baked goods.
• Oats are high in the soluble fiber beta-glucan, which has numerous benefits. It helps reduce cholesterol and blood sugar levels, promotes healthy gut bacteria and increases feelings of fullness.
• Oats contain many powerful antioxidants, including avenanthramides. These compounds may help reduce blood pressure and provide other benefits.
https://www.instagram.com/p/CEswHRyhV9G/?igshid=a0el87wy0ft6
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purplesurveys · 4 years ago
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815
All About the Letter C
Please List! (at least one)
Animals I Like: Chimpanzees, cows, clownfish (Nemo!), crabs.
Foods I Like: Chicken wings, carbonara, cordon bleu, corndogs, chili con carne, cheesecake, cheeseburgers, cupcakes, chocolate chip cookies, calzones, churros... and also crabs, oops.
I Know Someone Who’s (jobs) Chef! My dad is one. I also know a chemist, choir member...I know a couple of people who work in the call center industry but they aren’t call center agents.
I Wouldn’t Mind Visiting: Chicago, Cambodia, Cairo, Colorado, and Calgary because I would love to see the original house of the Hart family. Sometimes I Feel: Calm or chaotic. No in between.
Music I Listen To: Cro-Mags, Coldplay, Chance the Rapper.
Movies I’ve Seen: Carol, Cinderella, Charade, The Children’s Hour, Citizen Kane, Carrie, Cabin in the Woods, Camp Rock, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Comet.
Names I Like: Caroline, Charlotte, Cheyenne, Claire, Cassandra.
And now, onto the random questions!
What is your favorite color? I’d say it’s pastel pink. Almost all my school supplies in college used to be pink.
What is your favorite type of cookie? Chocolate chip and nothing else. I mean I’d eat other cookies too (as long as they don’t have raisins), but nothing does it for me like chocolate chip does.
What kinds of clothes do you wear? What’s your style? Until quite recently it used to be a bit minimalist and modern. I wasn’t flashy with my pieces and I preferred blacks and whites with plain designs, and my style got compared a lot to Audrey Hepburn. In my last year of university something just kinda sparked in me and I realized I didn’t wanna look too plain for my entire college life, so I made an effort to buy more colorful tops, be more expansive with the bottoms I’d get, and just bought so many more printed rompers, jumpsuits, tank tops, etc. I think my style has transformed from modern to basic Instagram girl more than anything else, but I’m ok with that label because I know I look good with the clothes I own anyway lol.
Last time you cried, and why? I stumbled upon a video on Facebook - it was a segment from Masterchef Australia and it focused on an Asian contestant who was telling his story about how his parents hustled hard to successfully operate a restaurant, but that it got forcibly shut down when Australian immigration got a hold of his parents.
Do you still own any CD’s? Yes, I never threw any of them out. They’d be nice ~artifacts to show my kids haha and besides, they all still work perfectly well and a number of them even came with mini-booklets with photos of the artist, lyrics, and thank you notes.
How many cousins do you have? I have 11 first cousins, but the number just gets soooo much higher from there.
What’s your favorite type of cereal? I don’t really eat cereal because I don’t like the mushy texture and because milk makes me feel bad anyway, but I do enjoy Cookie Crisp.
Do you prefer crayons or colored pencils? Colored pencils.
Which is creepiest - caterpillars, cicadas, crickets, centipedes, or cockroaches? Cockroaches and centipedes, eugh.
Who do you care about the most? My best friends, close friends, and Kimi.
How do you take your coffee? Iced caramel macchiato when I’m out, warm 3-in-1 coffee when I’m at home.
What kind of a car do you drive? I have a Mitsubishi Mirage, but I haven’t driven it in months.
Would you rather play chess, checkers, or croquet? I don’t play any of these and none of them interest me.
Are you Catholic or a Christian? All Catholics are Christian, so I’m technically both given that I was raised Catholic. I detached myself from the religion when I was 10 when I realized its followers – at least the ones where I’m from – are hypocrites; but legally I’m still Catholic, unfortunately.
Who is your current crush? Gabie.
What’s your favorite type of candy? Sour tape and gummy candies. Not really into super sweet candies since I find them irritating to my throat, like chocolate bars or caramel.
What’s your favorite card game to play? My high school group used to often play a certain card game and it gave me a lot of fond memories, but I no longer remember the name or the mechanics lol.
What’s your least favorite chore? Folding clothes because they hurt my back, and I particularly don’t like folding clothes that aren’t mine. Even though I know they’re clean, it still makes me squirm hahaha.
How much time do you spend on the computer? I’d say 5-6 hours max. I don’t use the laptop as much these days because I don’t have any schoolwork left to do anymore, and other than that I’m also slowly running out of things to do on the internet.
What would you like to do as a career? Something in communications, media, or marketing. I’m not sure yet.
[a-zebra-is-a-striped-horse]
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ofstormsandwolves · 5 years ago
Text
The Sweet Sixteen
Buffy/Faith, Giles/Joyce, Willow, Xander
Modern AU
Part of Sunnydale 2019 (full order on AO3)
Read on AO3
Buffy's sixteenth birthday ends up being about more than just cake and presents when Giles steps up to continue a Summers family tradition and Faith's flirting hits its mark.
“Have you given any thought about what you want to do for your birthday?”
Buffy looked up from her breakfast, a mouthful of cereal as she surveyed her mother. Swallowing quickly, she shrugged.
“I don’t know,” she admitted, fixing her gaze on the bowl in front of her. The milk was turning her cereal mushy.
“Well,” Giles spoke up from where he leaned against the counter, sipping his tea, “would you like a party?”
“Or a day out?” Joyce suggested. “Your birthday’s on the weekend, so we could go somewhere if you wanted to. We could go shopping. We could even maybe go to L.A for the day. Take Willow, and Xander, and Faith with us.”
Her mom was sounding optimistic, possibly even excited, and Buffy loved her for it, she really did. But her heart wasn’t really in it. Her heart hadn’t really been in her birthdays for the last two or three years. Not since her dad... Well.
And her parents seemed to sense that, as they shared a look between them. Giles set his mug on the side and moved towards the fridge, pulling an envelope off the top. He crossed to the breakfast bar where Buffy was sitting.
“This might not be the time,” he said, voice apologetic as he placed the envelope in front of her, “and you can say no if you want to. But I wondered if you wanted to go and see this.”
He slid the envelope towards her then, and there was a tension in the room as Buffy picked up the envelope. A glance at her mom told her that Joyce was as confused as she was, and with a frown at her step-father, Buffy opened the envelope carefully and pulled out its contents.
Two tickets to the Icecapades. The tickets were for the day before her birthday.
“I couldn’t get any for the actual day,” Giles admitted awkwardly. “But I thought the night before your birthday was close enough.”
Buffy blinked at the tickets in her hands, and then at her step-dad. “There’s two tickets,” she managed after a moment, still trying to wrap her head around what was going on.
“Yes,” Giles nodded. “I thought perhaps your mother and you would like to go.”
Joyce was watching anxiously in the background as Buffy frowned.
“But... But you bought the tickets. Why aren’t you going?”
It was Giles’s turn to frown then. “Buffy, I know this is something of a family tradition-”
“Dad used to take me,” Buffy said, blinking down at the tickets again. “Every year. For my birthday. Till you and Mom got engaged.” She looked up.
Her mom’s posture was tense, jaw clenched and a look on her face that Buffy knew meant she was trying to hold back tears. She’d looked like that a lot in the months before she and Hank had split and later divorced. Buffy had only been ten, and hadn’t really known why her parents had been so upset, but she recognised the look well enough now.
And Giles. Giles was tense too. But he was tense in a cautious way, in the uptight stuffy way he’d always acted around her in the early days when he’d just started dating Joyce. Like how he’d been when he’d sat Buffy down and asked her thoughts regarding him asking her mother to marry him. She’d been twelve then, and had thought it was quite funny Giles was so cautious around her. She’d always been a little too unpredictable for him in the early days, and it had taken nearly a year of him being around her for Giles to finally adjust to Buffy enough.
“You don’t have to go, Buffy. I just thought I’d give you the option.”
Giles’s words startled Buffy out of her thoughts, and she shook herself.
“No! I do want to go!” she cast a glance at her mom, wide-eyed and anxious.
Joyce’s own anxious expression greeted her, but it softened a little at Buffy’s look. Even without communication, her mother knew what she was asking.
Taking a breath, Buffy turned back to her step-dad. “Like I said, Dad used to take me every year. And it seems that he doesn’t want to do that anymore, which is his loss, you know? But I don’t wanna miss out on something I enjoy just because of him. And, and I don’t want to only have these weird half-happy memories of the Icecapades, back when my dad actually loved me enough to be involved in my life-”
“Buffy,” Joyce broke in then, and her voice was a little strained.
“It’s fine,” Buffy countered, and she was suddenly aware that she was crying. She sniffed, braced herself, and met Giles’s gaze. “What I’m saying, Giles, is I want to go to the Icecapades, and I want to have happy memories of going to the Icecapades with a father who actually cares about me and wants to be involved in my life. Because that’s what fathers do, and even though it’s stupid, going to the Icecapades feels like a father-daughter thing to me. So...” She let out a breath and straightened her back. “Giles, I want you to take me to the Icecapades.”
Giles blinked at her, apparently lost for words. Buffy’s confidence shattered.
“You don’t have to,” she said hurriedly. “I mean, me and Mom could probably-”
“I’d love to.”
Buffy blinked. “Huh?”
Giles gave her a soft smile in return. “I’d love to, Buffy.”
Ignoring her now-soggy cereal, Buffy shoved the bowl aside and promptly scrambled onto the breakfast bar to give Giles a hug.
 “The Icecapades?” Faith echoed, wrinkling her nose.
“Yeah,” Buffy said, smile fading a little at her friend’s lack of enthusiasm. “It’s nowhere near as childish as it sounds. And, and, the ice skaters are really good. A lot of them are Olympic medal winners.”
“But it’s an ice show,” Xander said, as though that explained everything. “A show performed on ice. How old are we again?”
Willow hit his arm and he winced.
“I went to Snoopy On Ice when I was little,” Willow chipped in helpfully. “My dad took my backstage and I got so scared I threw up on Woodstock.”
Everyone blinked at that, and Willow flushed and busied herself with picking the sticker off her apple. They were gathered outside the school under a tree, passing time until their next lesson started. There had been discussions of them going by the library for lunch, but Buffy was still a little excited about the whole Icecapades thing and wasn’t sure she’d be able to stop herself from flinging herself at Giles again. So to spare her step-dad the embarrassment, she’d overruled everyone and suggested they sit outside for the hour.
“Anyway,” Willow spoke up suddenly, “it’s pretty sweet of Giles to take you.”
“Yeah,” Buffy agreed, grinning a little goofily. “I haven’t been in a few years, and never with Giles. It should be pretty fun. There’s cotton candy, and souvenir programs, and they do stuff from operas and ballets too.”
“G-man’s a good guy,” Faith shrugged as though it were obvious. “Much better than your dad, anyway.”
Buffy sobered at the mention of her father, and Willow and Xander both glared at the younger girl. Oblivious, Faith continued talking.
“I mean, he’s got to be such an ass to just walk out on you and not even see you once in a while.”
“He doesn’t exactly get on with Giles,” Buffy admitted awkwardly. “Dad accused Giles of trying to take his place.” She laughed mirthlessly. “I guess he has, now. He’s taking me to the Icecapades and meanwhile my real dad hasn’t so much as called in months.”
“Forget about him, then.” Faith shrugged again. “He’s not worth the effort.”
Xander cleared his throat then, sensing that Buffy was growing less and less happy with the topic of conversation. “So, if you and Giles are taking off for this fancy ice show, does this mean there’s no party? Because it’s your sweet sixteen, Buff. Only get one of them.”
Buffy wrinkled her nose. “I dunno. Mom and Giles mentioned a party or going out for the day or something, but it was before Giles gave me the tickets. Mom didn’t even know he’d got them, I heard them talking afterwards.”
“Was she angry?” Willow asked in concern.
But Buffy smiled and shook her head. “No. She was crying a bit though. Kept thanking him and calling him a ‘wonderful man’. Then they started kissing so I got out of there fast.”
Faith snorted at that, and Willow flushed red.
“Well, that’s great,” Xander deadpanned, “but that doesn’t answer my concerns about a lack of party.”
“We’re going to the Icecapades on the Friday night,” Buffy explained. “We’re leaving straight from school, and we probably won’t get home until after midnight. But I’ll speak to Mom. Maybe we can do a movie and pizza night, or something.”
“Sounds good to me,” Xander grinned. “I’ll bring the balloons.”
 Two weeks later, Buffy bounced into school. When the bell rang at the end of the day, she and Giles would be heading off for Los Angeles and the Icecapades.
“Someone’s in a chipper mood,” Willow teased, grinning when she saw her friend.
“Am I not usually?” Buffy asked with a teasing tone.
“You’re not usually so bouncy,” Willow confided, still smiling.
“She’s got you there, B,” Faith said as she came up behind the two older girls. “Man, I do not wanna be any of your teachers today. Are you even gonna be able to sit still in class?”
Buffy stuck her tongue out. “At least I go to class.”
Faith shrugged. “I go,” she countered. “But only when it interests me.”
The three girls set off down the corridor then, as the bell rang for first period.
“And I’m guessing history isn’t interesting to you?” Buffy deadpanned. “Or geography? Science? English? Math?”
“Ok, ok, I get the picture,” Faith laughed, cutting her off. “But what can I say, B. I’m a bad girl.” She flashed the blonde a grin and winked. “And you love it.”
Buffy blinked, and suddenly Faith was walking away towards a classroom. Flushing, she turned to Willow.
“Is it me, or was Faith flirting with me?”
“Faith flirts with everybody,” Willow said, though she didn’t sound convinced. “I’m fairly certain she’s even tried to flirt with Snyder to get out of a detention.”
With a frown, Buffy allowed Willow to direct her towards their first class of the day. Maybe her friend was right. Maybe Faith flirted with everyone.
But that didn’t explain the fluttery feeling Buffy had in the pit of her stomach.
 The drive to L.A was quiet; Buffy was still lost in thought about the funny feeling she’d had that morning after speaking with Faith. It had distracted her all day, although her friends had simply assumed it was her excitement over her birthday treat that had her zoning out in the middle of class and the middle of conversations.
“Good day?” Giles asked after a long silence, glancing across at her. “You didn’t come by the library today.”
“We ate in the canteen,” Buffy said distractedly, staring out the window.
Giles surveyed her carefully. “Buffy,” he began slowly. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. If you’ve changed your mind, if you’d rather just go home-”
“No! No, Giles, I want to go! I do!” She let out a frustrated sigh, shook her head. “It’s nothing to do with the Icecapades, I promise. Just...” She trailed off. Did she really want to talk to Giles about this? Wouldn’t that make things awkward? Buffy didn’t even want to talk to her mom about how she felt; it would be way too embarrassing, so why was she contemplating talking to Giles?
He’d fixed his eyes back on the road, trying to give her the illusion of space even while stuck in the car, and Buffy kind of loved him for that. Giles might not be her biological dad, but he tried his best. And sometimes he got things wrong, and sometimes she hated him, or found him annoying or overbearing, but at least he was there for her. Buffy considered that for a moment. She and Giles had had their disagreements, almost as much as Buffy and her mother. But then, just like Joyce, he did something that reminded her that he still cared about her; buying ice cream for her because it was on special offer, treating her to a new top she’d seen at the mall just because, buying the tickets to the Icecapades...
Her mind drifted, then. All the times she and Giles had argued, it had always been about her. About him wanting what was best for her, about him trying so hard to understand her and fit in with her life. She remembered he’d been furious when she’d been kicked out of Hemery. It was the only time he’d ever yelled at her. He’d been so angry... Hadn’t he? Buffy frowned, trying to recall the events she’d tried so hard to forget.
 “Well I hope you’re happy,” Joyce said, rounding on Buffy the moment the door was shut behind them.
“Oh, yeah,” Buffy bit back, tears welling in her eyes as she pushed past her mother and into the sitting room. “I’m thrilled! I didn’t ask to be kicked out of school, Mom!”
“No, but you did vandalise the campus,” Joyce responded. “And you were present when the gym was burned down.”
“But that wasn’t me!” Buffy let out a noise of frustration. “Mom, not even the police held me responsible for the fire, why are you?”
“Because this isn’t about the fire, Buffy,” Giles interrupted, tone cold and disapproving. “It’s about the fact you knew socialising with those people would get you in trouble and yet you did it anyway.”
She’d thought the police showing up on her doorstep had been bad enough, and the ensuing interview at the station. But even after only being charged with vandalism, and the Court ruling to fine her rather than send her to juvie, Hemery High School had made it clear she was no longer welcome on campus. And with the expulsion had come yet more disapproval from her parents.
“You’re grounded.”
Her mother’s words brought her back to the present with a jolt. It wasn’t surprising, Buffy supposed.
“And I’m phoning your father,” Joyce added tightly, moving to the phone to make her point.
Buffy sniffed at that. “Like he’ll care,” she muttered under her breath.
Giles had been mostly silent throughout the meeting with the principal, observing rather than participating. Buffy knew he still felt a little on the outside of things when it came to Buffy; he was only her step-father after all. But he was wearing a disapproving look on his face that she couldn’t bear to see, and something in her snapped.
“Whatever you’ve got to say, Giles, just say it.”
The words were sharper than she’d intended, and her mother paused halfway through the process of phoning Hank. Giles clenched his jaw.
“Buffy-” her mother began, tone warning.
“No,” Giles interrupted, fixing his wife with a tight smile. “You go call Hank. I’ll deal with Buffy.”
Joyce surveyed the pair of them carefully then, before leaving the sitting room to make the phone call in peace. Buffy watched her mother go with a sullen expression. A tense silence descended on the room and after several moments, Giles made his way over to Buffy.
“Do you understand why your mother and I are so angry?” he asked, tone carefully controlled.
Buffy shrugged, refusing to look him in the eyes. “I screwed up. I lied to you. I got arrested and kicked out of school.”
“Yes,” Giles agreed, sitting carefully on the coffee table in front of her so she couldn’t avoid his gaze, “you did. But that’s not why we’re angry.”
The girl frowned, finally looking at her step-dad. The angry, disapproving look was still there, but there was something else too, in his eyes, that she couldn’t pinpoint.
“Are you going to tell me, or is this a game of twenty questions?” Buffy asked sarcastically, unable to help herself.
Giles arched an eyebrow at her, clearly unimpressed with her attitude.
“You want to know why we’re angry?” The carefully controlled tone of only a minute or so before was gone now, and Buffy was taken aback at just how angry her step-father was. She’d never seen him this angry, let alone at her. “How about the fact you allowed those children to encourage you to throw your life away? Or the fact you put yourself in deliberate danger?-”
“I didn’t,” Buffy protested bitterly, eyes focusing on the wall rather than Giles.
The man got to his feet, clearly frustrated. “But you did, Buffy. You did! You’ve been lying to us for months about your friends, the boyfriend we knew nothing about, where you’ve been going!” His voice was rising, going from loud to shouting, and Buffy just blinked at him with wide-eyes. “Do you have any idea how terrifying that is for your mother and I? You’re fifteen, Buffy! Anything could have happened to you, and we wouldn’t have known where you were!”
“But I’m fine!” she insisted, vaguely aware of her mother still on the phone in the kitchen.
Joyce’s hushed tones sounded strained and angry, but Buffy could somehow tell that the anger was directed more at her father on the other end of the phone rather than her.
“But we could have lost you!” Giles stopped, took a deep breath, forced himself to calm down. “Buffy, we don’t care about the vandalism, or the dating. We care about the fact you were in danger! You’ve thrown away your life for people you hardly know!” He shook his head. “Your mother and I could handle the fine, could handle the police investigation, but getting kicked out of school? Buffy, do you have any idea how serious this is?”
It was suddenly all too much. She shook her head, got to her feet, tried to push past Giles even as he grabbed her arm in an effort to make her stay.
“Buffy, please. We have to talk about this!”
“Why?” she snapped, whirling round to glare at him. “What is there to talk about? I screwed up, I threw away my future, I’ve let you and Mom down, I get it, Giles, alright? I get it! I don’t need you telling me how much I’ve messed my life up!”
Buffy shook her head again, tears welling in her eyes and blurring her vision as she tried to push past her step-dad again. She just wanted to be left alone. She felt bad enough without her parents piling on the guilt, and she could hear Joyce’s strained tones from the kitchen as she relayed the day’s events to Hank.
“Buffy.”
That made her stop. She blinked, tears streaming down her face, smudging her makeup. Something in Giles’s tone made her freeze. It was a strange tone she’d never heard from him before; part desperate, past worried, part gentle. She’d never heard him sound like that. Slowly, she met his gaze. And it hit her. The thing she hadn’t been able to pinpoint earlier, underneath the anger and disapproval. Fear. He wasn’t just worried, he was scared.
Buffy’s brow furrowed. Why was he so scared?
She pulled away. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Giles’s face shuttered at that. “Fine,” he said after a moment, before fixing her with a look. “Go to bed. It’s been a long day.”
 Buffy frowned to herself. She’d never really stopped to think about it- hadn’t wanted to stop and think about it. But Giles had been scared. And he and her mom had been angry not because Buffy had done a lot of stupid stuff- ok, not completely because of that- but because she’d been in danger. And they had been angry about the fact she’d scared them.
The one time Giles had ever yelled at her, and it had been because he was so scared of something bad happening to her, so scared that she’d ruined her life just to be popular. Meanwhile, her dad had simply phoned her to give her a lecture about behaving herself and then not spoken to her again. She still hadn’t heard from him, and the whole Hemery incident was almost eight months ago. But Giles? Giles was right next to her. Even after scaring him so much, even after he’d had to pay a fine for something she had done, he was still there, and still treating her to the Icecapades.
“I don’t think I deserve this,” Buffy blurted out suddenly.
Giles frowned, and glanced over to her. “What do you mean?”
She shrugged, a little embarrassed. “I just... Why did you buy me these tickets, Giles? I got arrested! You had to pay a fine- a huge fine- because I vandalised the school! And we had to move to a new town just to find a school that would take me, and now you’re working as a librarian even though you’re some super-clever historian guy who should be giving lectures or something, and, and-”
She broke off, unable to breathe, and Giles was wide-eyed in the driver’s seat.
“Breathe. Buffy, just breathe, it’s ok.”
She tried to do as he said, she really did, but Giles was looking all pinch-faced and serious. There was nowhere for him to pull off, they were too close to Los Angeles, and Buffy could see that it was frustrating her step-father. So she forced her attention back to her breathing, forced herself to calm down. As her breathing evened out, Giles seemed to relax a little.
“Are you alright?” he asked cautiously, glancing over at her.
Buffy nodded, a little embarrassed. “Yeah.”
There was a silence for several moments.
“Buffy,” Giles said at last, voice quiet and gentle. Buffy wasn’t sure she deserved it. “You do know that your mother and I don’t still blame you for what happened in Los Angeles?”
She blinked at him. “Y-You don’t?” Her voice was soft and unsure, but hopeful. “But I messed up.”
“You did,” Giles acknowledged, eyes on the road. “But I did a lot of stupid things when I was a teenager, and so did your mother. The important thing is that you know what you did was wrong, and that you’re sorry for what happened.”
“I am! I’m really, really sorry.”
He nodded, smiling a little at the emotion in her words. “Then why should we still punish you? Why can’t I treat you on your birthday, if you’ve already learned from your mistakes and moved on? I’ll admit, the move to Sunnydale was a little stressful and unexpected, but we moved for you, Buffy.” He glanced over at her then, a soft smile on his face. “I will do whatever job I have to do, as long as you’re happy at school. We moved so that you could get an education, and so that you could have a fresh start and get your life back on track, and that’s what you’re doing. So if I want to take my daughter to the Icecapades for her birthday, that’s what I’m going to do.”
Buffy blinked as she processed Giles’s words then. A slow smile spread across her face. “Ok.”
“Ok,” Giles agreed with a grin.
A more comfortable silence fell over them then.
“You know, this wasn’t what I was going to talk to you about,” Buffy said suddenly, laughing a little as she remembered what had made her panic in the first place.
“No?” Giles asked.
Buffy shook her head, smile fading. “No.” She took a breath, and then looked over at her step-father. “I think I like Faith.”
Giles was silent for several moments. “Care to elaborate?”
The teenager swallowed. “I mean I think I like Faith. As in, like her.” She frowned. “Giles, I think I want to date her.”
She watched as her step-father processed her words.
“I think,” he said at last, “this sort of thing requires ice cream. Think you can wait until we get to the Icecapades?”
 “How was it?”
Joyce was all smiles when Giles and Buffy came through the door at nearly half past midnight. Buffy was clutching a souvenir programme tightly in one hand, and had a huge grin on her face.
“It was so good,” the teen said excitedly. “I’d forgotten how much I loved it. You should have seen it, Mom, I swear it’s even better now than it was last time I went.”
“Good,” Joyce smiled, trying not to laugh too much at her daughter’s enthusiasm. “Now, why don’t you go get ready for bed? It’s pretty late, and you’ve got Willow, Xander, and Faith coming round later for your birthday.”
Before heading upstairs, Buffy made sure to give Giles a tight hug, and her parents watched in mild amusement as she disappeared upstairs.
“So,” Joyce asked with a smirk, “how was it? Did she make you buy lots of cotton candy?”
“An inordinate amount,” Giles sighed as he pulled off his coat. “It was good. Buffy enjoyed herself, and I have to admit that I did too.” He paused. “We talked on the drive up there. She seemed to think she didn’t deserve the tickets because of what happened at Hemery.”
Joyce let out a sigh at that. “And what did you tell her?”
Giles shrugged. “That we won’t continue to punish her when she already understands what she’s done is wrong. And that if I want to take my daughter to the Icecapades for her birthday, then that’s what I’ll do, regardless of poor decisions she may have made in the past.”
That made Joyce smile then. “You’re a good man, Rupert,” she said, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Now, I suggest we get some sleep before Buffy’s friends invade the house for the day.”
 Buffy had a lazy birthday morning, sleeping in after the long day she’d had the day before, and was greeted by a birthday brunch when she eventually made it downstairs.
“Rupert told me about the talk you two had yesterday,” Joyce confided quietly while she and Buffy sat at the kitchen island snacking on the brunch Giles had prepared.
“Did he?” Buffy asked cautiously, wide-eyed as she tried to figure out which conversation her mother knew about.
“He did,” Joyce confirmed as she helped herself to more fruit. “And I just want you to know, Rupert and I aren’t still angry about what happened in Los Angeles. You made a mistake, and you apologised and learned from it, and as your mother that’s all I can ask.”
Buffy felt herself relax a little at that; not only had Giles not spilled about Faith, but also hearing her mother confirm what he’d told her the day before was rather reassuring.
“And,” Joyce continued gently, “you can come and talk to Rupert or I any time. You know that, right?”
“Yeah, Mom.” Buffy nodded.
Joyce smiled at that, and brushed a stray strand of hair behind Buffy’s ear. “Good. And happy birthday, sweetheart.”
 As it was, Xander and Willow didn’t show up until two that afternoon.
“Faith said to tell you she’s on her way,” Willow said as she gave Buffy a hug. “Apparently she didn’t tidy her room and Gwen won’t let her leave until it’s done.”
“Which means Faith should be here just in time for cake,” Xander joked, moving to hug Buffy as Willow stepped aside. “There is cake, right?”
“We’ve got cupcakes,” Buffy told him as she hugged him back. “But I’m under strict instructions to keep you away from food until it’s time to eat.”
“From who?” Xander demanded jokily as he released Buffy. “Who’s denying me food?”
“That would be me,” Giles deadpanned as he appeared in the dining room doorway. “I’ve seen you eat, Xander, and the rest of us would like some food before you demolish it all.”
A knock on the door interrupted any potential argument Xander had been about to respond with, and Buffy was relieved to find Faith waiting on the porch for her.
“Happy birthday, B,” the brunette greeted, pulling Buffy in for a one-armed hug as she stepped inside, a glittery pink gift bag dangling from her other hand. “How was the fancy ice skating last night?”
Oh god, Buffy thought. The fluttery feeling in her belly was back. She gave Faith a shy smile. “It was good,” she said. “I even made Giles eat cotton candy.”
“It was horrible,” the man in question chipped in with an exaggerated grimace.
Faith laughed, one arm still flung around Buffy’s shoulders. “Come on, B. You opened any presents yet?”
“N-No,” Buffy said, hoping no one caught the slight stutter.
Faith grinned. “Then what are we waiting for?”
As Buffy allowed the younger girl to pull her into the sitting room, she tried to ignore the knowing look on her step-dad’s face.
 It was a little before seven when Buffy snuck out to the back porch. They were all taking a break before queuing up the final movie of the night, and she’d wanted some fresh air. They’d spent the afternoon laughing and chatting while Buffy opened presents, and at a little after four her parents had joined them for movies and food. Pizzas had been ordered and consumed, and snacks had been demolished. And throughout it all, Buffy had sat with Faith’s arm around her shoulder.
Every now and then, both Willow and Giles had given her pointed looks, and Buffy had felt more than a little nervous. Her stomach still felt funny, and she was even a little worried she might be sick. So she’d escaped to the back porch for a little space and fresh air, and after several minutes she was starting to feel a little more at ease.
“You ok?”
Buffy startled at that, and looked round to see Faith in the doorway, a concerned look on her face.
“Yeah,” Buffy managed. “Just getting some air.”
Faith closed the door behind her and moved to sit beside Buffy on the steps. “You’d tell me if something was wrong, yeah?”
A tense smile. “Sure.”
The younger girl fixed Buffy with a look at that, clearly not convinced.
“So,” Faith said at last. “Sweet sixteen. How does it feel, B?”
“About the same as fifteen.” Buffy smiled, a more genuine smile that time.
Faith smiled back, and suddenly Buffy’s stomach was doing strange, fluttery things again. She swallowed.
“Faith?”
“Yeah?”
“I...” Buffy swallowed again. Her eyes were on Faith’s lips. She couldn’t tear her gaze away, not even if she wanted to. “I think I’d like to kiss you.”
Silence. Then:
“Ok.” Faith’s voice was soft, almost cautious in a way Buffy hadn’t heard before.
The distance between the two girls disappeared and suddenly Faith’s lips were on Buffy’s lips, and Faith’s lips were soft and pliant under Buffy’s, and oh my god I’m kissing Faith Lehane...
Buffy pulled back and blinked. Faith’s brown eyes blinked back at her, her face a little dazed.
“I think I wanna do that again sometime,” Buffy said a little breathlessly.
Faith’s eyes were on Buffy’s lips now. “Fine by me.”
Buffy nodded, and stared across the darkening garden. “So, uh, does... Does this mean we’re...?”
“Dating?” Faith asked.
Buffy nodded again, not trusting herself to speak.
“I think I’d like that,” Faith said slowly, as she too stared across the garden. “My girlfriend, Buffy Summers.”
“My girlfriend, Faith Lehane.”
The girls grinned at one another.
“We should get back inside,” Buffy said after a moment, even as her eyes were drawn once more to Faith’s lips. “The others will be waiting.”
“Yeah...” Faith echoed, even as she leaned closer to Buffy. “Waiting...”
Their lips locked again, a little less tentative than the first time. A questing tongue demanded entry at Buffy’s lips, and she parted them a little.
“Buffy?” Joyce called from inside the house. “We’re starting the movie!”
The girls jerked apart, laughing a little in embarrassment.
“We definitely need to go back inside,” Buffy said, pushing herself to her feet.
Faith grumbled under her breath, but got up anyway. And as they headed back inside, she slipped her hand into Buffy’s and flashed her a wink. Buffy grinned.
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mrmushiesmushroombars · 7 months ago
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Unveiling the Delightful World of Mr. Mushies Mushroom Bars
In a world where natural remedies are gaining traction, Mr. Mushies emerges as a beacon of innovation and taste. Imagine a fusion of culinary delight and the therapeutic benefits of psilocybin mushrooms. That's precisely what Mr. Mushies offers, bringing together the goodness of nature in every delectable bite.
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ramblingshit · 5 years ago
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USA Food - Tasty or Trash?
A growing list of USA food rated as Tasty or Trash by an Australian.
//
Twizzlers: chemical rubber stick. 100% Trash.
Pop Tarts (Brown Sugar Cinnamon): Microwaved is Trash. Toasted is pretty Tasty. so sugary it almost hurts my teeth. i can feel it in my face. nauseatingly sweet. nauseating full stop. kinda reminds me of childhood birthday parties. Frozen is kinda Tasty. somehow less sugary. the ‘pastry’ (if you can call it that) bit sticks in your teeth.
Tator Tots: call them Potato Gems. 10/10 Tasty.
Apple Pie: with ice cream. yes. 10/10 Tasty.
Reese’s Puffs cereal:
Cinnamon Toast Crunch cereal: cinnamon-y. sugar-y. incredibly unhealthy breakfast choice. Tasty.
Luck Charms cereal:
Hershey’s Milk Chocolate bar: starts out as hella sweet Easter-egg tasting chocolate, then straight into weird chemical/oil aftertaste. Trash.
Hershey’s Kisses:
Biscuits and Gravy: includes neither actual biscuits nor respectable gravy. haven’t even tried it yet and I already feel ill.
Meatloaf: schlop that can taste kinda Tasty with enough tomato sauce, on a cold winter day.
Hamburger/Cheeseburger: a grand food group which exists on an infinite spectrum between incredibly, tear-jerkingly Tasty and revoltingly and unholily Trash.
Hot dog: just below par with Hamburger but existing on an identical spectrum between holy-shit this is so fuckin Tasty and holy-shit this is fuckin Trash.
Chocolate Chip Cookie: a heavenly creation. Tasty.
Corn dogs: greasy, smelly, messy deep-fried mushy dildo on a stick. 100% Trash.
Smores: look absolutely unholily american.
Cheesesteak:
Chicken and Waffles: sounds fucked up - down to try.
Banana Split: messy and over-the-top but definitely Tasty.
Mac and Cheese: never met a mac and cheese I didn’t like. 10/10 Tasty.
Spaghetti and Meatballs: so long as the meatballs aren’t stupidly big and there’s a respectable amount of sauce and cheese, 10/10 Tasty.
Grilled cheese: call it cheese toastie, or toasted cheese sandwich. can’t go wrong. 10/10 Tasty.
Peanut Butter and Jelly: uncomfortable. massively overrated. a soft Trash.
Nachos: i respect them. but cornchips should not be soggy mushy schlop - in this form Trash. put the nachos on one side of the plate (preferably a separate plate) and the toppings on the other and you got yourself a Tasty.
Pancakes: yes. Tasty. 10/10.
Cheesecake: respectable. Tasty.
//
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preciousthingsareprecious · 6 years ago
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As a celebratory hurrah to having my blog back again, have some fluff inspired by too many nights of speed eating Frosted Flakes. 
Since this is just a short, it’s going to be added to my fairly new fic on AO3 dedicated to containing all my short fics Scattered Moments.
AO3 Link
The elevator pinged and let Damian off into the main part of the loft. He adjusted the papers in his hands and started towards the kitchen. Hopefully, Grayson could help him figure out these calculations. He’d been fighting with them down in the bunker for hours and the numbers were starting to swim in his vision.
“Grayson I need your--” Damian stopped short walking into the kitchen as he caught sight of his brother.
Dick was crouched at the bar, a bowl cupped in one hand, the other furiously shoveling cereal from it, to his mouth with a spoon. He watched as his brother chewed for a few seconds, swallowed, and dumped another spoonful of what Damian thought might be frosted flakes into his mouth in smooth cycles.
“What are you doing?”
“Can’t stop.” Dick said around a mouthful of cereal, “It‘ll get soggy.”
Well, that’s what Damian guessed he’d said. What it sounded like was “ant op, I’ll et oggy”
Damian frowned at him and waited. Watching as the bowl’s contents were devoured faster than Damian believed anything should be eaten. At last, Grayson leaned back, metal spoon clattering against ceramic as he dropped it. He closed his eyes and sighed.
Damian tapped his foot, “Tt, have you finished?”
Dick opened one eye and grinned at him.
In response, Damian rolled his eyes.
His brother sat up straight, “You’ve obviously never had to race the clock that is frosted flakes in milk.”
“It is not something I plan on doing.” Damian told him.
Grayson’s grin widened, “Don’t judge it if you haven’t tried it.”
Damian stepped forward and pulled himself up onto one of the stools at the bar. He dropped his papers on the empty counter before him, “What were you doing eating cereal at two in the afternoon? Pennyworth will be displeased if he knows you’ve spoiled your dinner.”
“We both know I haven’t spoiled anything.” Grayson told him, “Besides, I was hungry. Cereal was easy, and just filling enough I’ll still be able to eat as much of Alfred’s dinner as I want.”
Damian huffed and side eyed Grayson’s empty bowl. He would not admit it, but the sugary snack was appealing to him, even under the threat of it getting soggy quickly.
“What’s brought you up from the bunker? Did you figure out the problem with the car?”
Damian scowled, “No. That is the reason I’ve come up, I need a second set of eyes on my calculations.”
He was mortified when his stomach decided to rumble and gurgle. He was not that hungry. Grayson’s stupid snack had inspired his body to rebel. He’d had breakfast, there was no reason for his stomach to assume he was hungry.
Grayson shifted, and stood, “How about this. You race the frosted flake timer and I’ll look over your calculations.”
Damian rolled his eyes, but agreed. Soon he was faced with a bowl of cereal sitting in front of him, a spoon in his hand, and Grayson standing over him eagerly waiting. His brother held a carton of milk above the bowl, waiting for the go.
Damian had no idea why Grayson was so eager to have him try this, or why he was so particular about when the milk went in but at this point he really wanted the snack. He rolled his eyes up to Grayson.
“Go for it.”
His brother poured the milk at the same time as he turned on a timer. Damian rolled his eyes again, but mixed his cereal in with the milk and started in on it. He could feel eyes on him as Grayson was watching him instead of looking over his calculations like he’d promised.
Damian ignored him, and set into the snack. He was unsurprised to find it crunchy at first. Then, the speed at which the food began to dissolve and grow mushy did surprise him. The flakes closest to the milk began to fall apart before the ones on top, making Damian increase the speed he was eating. He stirred everything again, trying to get the cereal evenly coated.
“Not so easy is it?” Grayson asked.
Damian shot him a glare, but didn’t stop eating. Grayson didn’t stop smiling at him. He was giving him that knowing ‘I told you so look’. Damian paused his eating for a moment to turn his full attention to him.
“Were you not going to look at my calculations?”
“Right, right. I did say that.” Grayson said, making no move to pick up Damian’s papers.
Damian huffed and turned back to his food. There were a few edible bites left of Damian’s cereal before it was all mush. His milk had taken on a grainy beigeish sort of color. He pushed the bowl away with a frown.
“I agree that this cereal is difficult to eat.” he allowed.
Dick laughed, “And I’ll agree these calculations are off, how come you missed squaring this one?”
He pointed at something on the paper and Damian scowled at it, of course he’d missed that.
“I should have asked you sooner.”
“And risk interrupting me as soon as I started eating?” Grayson shook his head, “No way, kiddo. Your timing was good.”
Damian rolled his eyes, “Tell me, how quickly do you need to eat this cereal in order to enjoy it all?”
“That, Lil’ D, is a practiced art.”
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monstaxnight · 6 years ago
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11:39 am with 🐢, please and thank you?
Hyungwon is alone in the dorm.
His slippers pad against the wooden floor as he groggily carries his cereal from the kitchen to the black leather couch of the living room. He pushes his long hair back from his face as he sits, sipping on some milk before eating a mushy spoonful.
Across from him sit some of Wonho’s weights, and the mere sight of them makes Hyungwon’s muscles twinge. Every single morning they dance this secret dance together, the anime paper boy and the black metal masses staring one another off as if tensely waiting to test one another’s boundaries and limits. 
He chews slowly on his sugary breakfast, eyeing the 15kg dumbbell as though he’s about to slay its existence. He sighs and pushes his bowl across the glass coffee table, meaning business as he stands and flexes and stretches the muscles hidden beneath the soft cotton of his striped pyjamas.
He steps over to it, drawn inexorably to the challenge radiating from the weight in powerful waves. He bends his knees, reaching down to touch the cool steel of the bar, bracing himself to lift, to conquer…
How many times had he seen Wonho casually lift this thing just to move it, to make way for a bigger and badder weight?
How many times had he seen Wonho add more little weights onto the end to make it even heavier?
Hyungwon takes a deep breath and heaves.
Nothing budges.
He exhales exhaustedly. “Okay. You win.”
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circusclownsam · 2 years ago
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stranger things oc
<[ G E N E R A L - I N F O R M A T I O N ]>
Full name; Min-Ya Choi
Nickname(s); Minnie (don’t give her nicknames in the rp, please)
preferred nickname; Minnie
Pronouns; She / Her
Age; 18 - 20s
Birth date; 3 / 9
Born; Seoul, South Korea
Gender; Female
Race; Asian
Nationality; Korean - Australian
Blood type; A+
Occupation; student at Hawkins high school
Lives; Hawkins, Indiana
<[ P H Y S I C A L - A P P E A R A N C E ]>
Height; 5’2 (158cm)
Weight; light
Body shape; hourglass, average thickness, small waist, d cup size
Hair colour; chocolate brown
Hair length; hip length, longer when straightened
Hair texture; 2c
Eye colour; dark blue with specks of light blue
Face claim; https://pin.it/1rGuK0n
Skin tone; warm tan
Scarring; inner thighs, arms and back. doesn’t care enough to hide them, doesn’t say where/how she got them
Birth marks; a small heart behind her left ear
Tattoos; None
Other features; freckled cheeks, nose and shoulders. dimpled smile.
<[ A T T I R E ]>
Main Attire;
; https://pin.it/1V2r6Kvpr (partially unzipped)
; https://pin.it/5XNU5KnYM
; https://pin.it/2OBcReG3f
; https://pin.it/3SxgtYWO4
; https://pin.it/6noGK2JcP
; https://pin.it/1oNYIP5vF
; https://pin.it/5pt6je9rR
; https://pin.it/5EfVZJmhC
; https://pin.it/7ABGVzZgI
Formal attire;
; https://pin.it/79X357yRw
; https://pin.it/1HaHmuoXT
; https://pin.it/1jwkJodb9
Sleep attire;
; https://pin.it/78sPCuw0t
; https://pin.it/5aqsegN
; https://pin.it/719H58wNo
; https://pin.it/6s7Pn6M
<[ V O I C E & L A N G U A G E ]>
Voice; slight raspiness
Pitch; her voice is mid-pitch
Accent; aussie accent
Spoken languages; English, Korean
Learning languages; none, at the moment.
Speech impediments; occasional stutter, though only when nervous
<<[ P E R S O N A L I T Y ]>>
Described as by others; Quiet, Secretive
Good traits; Caring, Selfless, thoughtful, Kind, Humorous
Bad traits; Sarcastic, Flirtatious, Cold, Untrusting of others, Snappy when annoyed
Interests; listening to music, reading in her spare time, hanging out with eddie, anything horror, spending time alone in her room, her personal space(mood), not being called-on in class, art class, drawing in her notebook, skateboarding with max, rainy weather
Disinterests; Billy, Vecna, overly cheesy romcoms, her art supplies being touched, her personal space being invaded, mud, her father, group projects, snow
Hobbies; drawing / sketching, the guitar, skateboarding + rollerblading
Usual attitude; unbothered, mostly. bit of sarcasm
Insecurities; her scars, occasionally.
Fears; deep water (pools, lakes specifically), big dogs
Talents; skateboarding, art
<[ F A V O R I T E S ]>
Loved foods; white chocolate bars, Rice with meat, burgers and fries
Hated foods; bananas, she DESPISES them, anything mushy or slimy, most cereals
Loved drinks; Coca Cola, Milk, Apple Juice
Hated drinks; sparkling water, orange juice, flat cola
Loved music; loud, metal-like music
Hated music; anything country
<[ T H I S - O R - T H A T ]>
Introvert or extrovert; Introvert
pessimist, Optimist or Realist; Realist
Cautious or Daredevil; Cautious
neat or messy; Neat
Easygoing or uptight; easy going
Uncaring or sensitive; uncaring, though depends on the person and situation
Hard worker or Slacker; 50 / 50
Active or lazy; 50 / 50
<[ H E A L T H ]>
Mental; occasional nightmare but overall okay
disorders/illnesses; a mild case of social anxiety, unmedicated but manageable
Physical; fit for her age, works out when she can
Disabilities; none
Eyesight; 20/20 vision, no need for glasses
Dental care; brushes regularly, healthy white and straight, no known issues
Hygiene; showers regularly, no known odours or unclean habits
Hearing; occasional ringing in the ear, but overall okay
Allergies; sunflower, mild rash and sneeze
Addictions; none
<<[ R E L A T I O N S H I P S ]>>
Mother; Lin Choi, alive, close relationship, works as an assistant
Father; Robert Kingly, unknown, strained relationship due to abuse. left a year after her 16th birthday
Sister; Katie Choi, alive, currentlyhomeschooled
Friends; Steve, Dustin, Eleven / Jane, Mike, Lucas, Max, Will, Eddie
Closer to; Eddie, Max
Enemies; none, as far she’s aware
Potential love interest(s); Eddie, Mike
Pets; a cat named fiasco, a demo-dog named pop tart
Other relatives; she’s not close with any of her other relatives
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