#because it is very frustrating having to explain that yes we do have microwaves actually

[slightly-more-awake-salamander]

I think that some of the frustration that people express is that poor teaching is not unique to the US. The US history curriculum is actually far better than what it was like in my home country. I studied in an American high school for a month and was introduced to a lot of stuff I'd never been taught about ever. Having one world history class was more than I ever had. Most people's history education ends at about World War Two. So I think it can be frustrating to see people blame the education system solely for this global ignorance because that argument rests on the idea that America is uniquely bad, uniquely propagandistic, etc. There is something to be said that the US has a uniquely insular culture because of its international cultural dominance. It doesn't have to look outside of itself because it's always the most important country in the room. I don't know.

But I also think that turning ignorance into a moral failing is an unhelpful and sometimes cruel thing.

[bqstqnbruin]

I hate the way you lie

Hello hello, here I am with the next part....get mad at me. Do it. This and the next part will make you angry, the 9th part will make you sad, and the 10th, well....I’ll let you guess

Read the whole series:  I hate the way you talk to me and the way you cut your hair // I hate the way you drive my car // I hate it when you stare // I hate your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind // I hate you so much it makes me sick, it even makes me rhyme // I hate the way you’re always right // I hate it when you lie // I hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry // I hate it when you’re not around, and the fact that you didn’t call // But mostly I hate the way I don’t hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all

_________________________

“Why do I have to make sense?”

“Why do you keep denying everything?”

---------------

The sudden change from her music to her ringtone made her jump, Evelina nearly dropping her plate on the ground once she saw who was calling. “I always forget you have my number,” she answers, shoving her chicken and rice in her mouth. 

“How do you forget that?” Matthew’s voice comes through on the other end, “Am I really that far from your mind at all times?” 

“Yes.” 

Matthew scoffs, hating that sometimes he has to go through Evelina to get to you. “Whatever,” he lets out. “I need help.”

“Not shocking,” she lets out monotonously, the sound of her eating indicating she was putting no care into helping Matthew in the first place. 

“Evelina!” he raises his voice, causing her to jump again, frustrated at himself more so than he was at her, “Sorry. Just, please, take this seriously?” 

She feels her entire body tense up. “Sorry, yeah. Go ahead,” she lets out, pushing her plate aside to give him her full attention. Whatever it was, Matthew had to be serious if he was calling her like this, anyway. 

Matthew takes in a deep breath, knowing he can say it because he technically already did. “I’m in love with Y/N.” He waits for some sort of reaction from your roommate, silence the only thing he heard, “Ev?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Yeah, I was waiting for you to tell me something I didn’t already know.” 

She hears him groan, shoving more food in her mouth as she’s clearly unamused by what he just told her. “I said it last night to Y/N.” 

“What?” she yells, followed by choking on her rice. Sending herself into a coughing fit, she hears Matthew panicking, calling her name to ask her if she were alright. “Fuck,” she coughs, “I’m fine, I’m fine. You said what?”

“I said, ‘I love you,’ after our phone call.” 

She stops for a minute, trying to process what he just said. “After? As in not during the phone call? Did you say it over text? Do I have to have Elias kill you?” she spitfires, thinking Matthew would get flustered over the bombardment.

“She hung up before I could tell her, I didn’t say it over text, and he won’t hide my body well enough to not get caught. What do I do?” he responds. He was used to talking and listening to your rambling; Evelina could ask him ten questions in a row and he could answer them all thanks to how much time he spent with you. 

“Tell her in person?” 

Even though he knew she couldn’t see him, he couldn’t help but roll his eyes at her. “Don’t you think I would if I could? Everytime I try I fucking panic like a wimp. How much of the list does she still have?” 

Taking another bite of her food, she tries to even think about where the list is. “I have no idea. Maybe three or four things left?” She waits for him to say something else, hearing nothing but a sigh come from him. “Look, you have a week and a half left.”

“A week and a half left of what?” you ask, coming into the kitchen to make yourself food, not noticing Evelina practically jumping out of her skin at the sound of your voice. 

“Sorry,” she says, hanging up on Matthew without letting him get in another word. “I was talking to Jasmine about the presentation.” 

You turn to look at her, the uncertainty in her voice telling you something was up. You shrug, turning back to the fridge to try to find something to make for yourself. “Uh,” you say, reaching in and pulling out the only thing that wasn’t food in the fridge, a now discolored piece of paper. “I forgot this was in here,” you say, holding up the crumbled list with two fingers. 

“Wh-why?” Evelina drags out, clearly confused as to how neither of you had noticed it had probably been in there since the weekend she was visiting her parents. “Why was that in the fridge?”

Tossing it in the trash, you explain, “Matthew almost saw it so I threw it in there and said we were making a list of your kinks.” You hear her scoff behind you, not even wanting to turn around to see the glare she was sending in your direction. “Ok, what else was I supposed to do?” 

“Not have the list in the first place.” 

Pulling out the left over pasta you had, you roll your eyes as you threw it in the microwave. “It was your idea,” you remind her.

“What’s even on it at this point? The way he cuts his hair, his driving, the teasing, the staring,” she starts listing, counting off on her fingers, “How he reads your mind and makes you rhyme.” 

“I’m ignoring the mocking tone while you listed the last two. But he’s right when he shouldn’t be. It’s annoying,” you say, her holding up another finger.

“That’s seven things so far, babe.” Evelina sits there, studying the expression on your face. It’s not really sad, but there’s just something off about it. “Have you figured anything when it comes to him?”

“No.”

“Well,” she starts, “you at least were happy with him last night. But, why scream ‘fraud?’”

You can feel your face turning red, turning towards her. You were technically smiling, even if it was being overpowered by the cringe you were showing, “You heard that?”

“I’m pretty sure Mrs. Rose heard that and she takes out her hearing aids after her four p.m. dinner.” You nearly choke on your food, Evelina laughing at your expense as she pushes her water towards you. “Why are you even going to rewrite the list?” 

You finish what she had left in her glass, getting up to refill hers and get yourself your own. “I mean, I said I would.” 

“But you’ve already been on the date with him and slept with him, and not in that order, I might add.” You roll your eyes at her, even though you knew she was right. “Babe, all I’m saying: the point of the list was so you wouldn’t have to go out with him, and you’ve already done that. So now, what’s the point of the list?” 

“I told you, I need to figure out how I feel about him,” you insist, even if you were pretty sure how you felt. You just couldn’t say it. Putting your face in your hands, you groan, “I don’t even know what I am to him.” 

“What do you want to be?” 

----------

“Hey, it’s me!” Matthew calls, letting himself into your apartment like he always does. He doesn’t hear any noise coming from either of your rooms even though you were supposed to be leaving in a few minutes to head to the bar and meet the guys. “I have presents.”

He rolls his eyes as you both come running, Evelina more excited at the prospect of a gift than anything else. “What is it?” she says, bouncing up and down, eagerly waiting for the box he had in his hands while you stood behind her waiting to say hi to him. 

“Can I say hi to my gir-” he starts, stopping himself. He was going to say girlfriend, pushing past Evelina, whose mouth was hanging wide open, the heat rushing to your face at the thought of him calling you that. Who cared about some stupid list? “To Y/N first?”

He kisses you, his free hand cupping your face. “Hi,” you say when he pulls away, Evelina going silently feral behind the two of you. You reach up, gently grazing your thumb along the scratch under his eye from Johnny’s stick. You kinda liked how it made him look. But, “as much as I like you, I want the present,” you tell him, taking the box from his arms, leaving Matthew standing there as you pull Evelina to the couch to open the box. Inside are two red jerseys, Lindholm and Tkachuk stitched across the back. “I wonder which one’s mine,” you joke as Matthew sits down next to you. “Thank you,” you tell him, giving him a quick kiss, almost forgetting Evelina is sitting next to you.

“This isn’t the type of thing where you ask us to only wear your jersey and nothing else is it?” you hear Evelina say, pulling you back to reality.

“For you? God, no. For Y/N, however?” he says, putting his arm around you and pulling you into his lap, your cheeks burning while Evelina enjoys every minute of your embarrassment. 

He nuzzles into your neck, his lips connecting with your skin as you’re very aware Evelina is right there next to you. “So should I leave without you two, or what?” she asks, Matthew groaning at her words instead of how you were making him feel.

“No,” you say, pulling Matthew away from your neck by his curls, a pout on his face, “We said we would meet the guys, so we need to get going.” As much as you wanted to stay there with him, a promise is a promise. 

Matthew pouts as you wriggle free from his grasp, taking the jerseys and bringing them to your rooms. You practically had to drag Matthew off the couch, doing everything in your power to not just send Evelina to the bar and stay there with him. The entire walk to the bar, he had his hand in yours. He and Evelina were bickering about something, you not paying attention. He almost called you his girlfriend. And you liked the idea of being his girlfriend. But you couldn’t justify calling yourself that if you hadn’t actually established that with him first. 

Evelina bounces off to find the boys, Matthew staying by your side. “Think of everything we could be doing right now if we were back at your place,” he whispers in your ear as he pulls you close to him. He dips his head down to kiss you, his hands tightening on your hips as he presses you flat against the wall. Your hands stay on his chest, you swear you could feel his heart racing. He pulls away, his forehead pressed against yours. “Can we please just go home?” he begs. 

You can’t help but laugh at his pleading, kissing him before gently pushing him off you and leading him through the bar. “We said we would be out with the guys tonight, so we’re going to be out with the guys tonight.” 

You finally find the rest of the guys, all having drinks in front of them, clearly buzzed. Even Evelina was already near their level as she polished off what was clearly the rest of Elias’ drink while they were all laughing at whatever story Sean was telling them. “And I look over to the table next to us, and what do I see? These two guys fucking arm werestling in the middle of the restaurant. Their elbows weren’t even on the goddamn table. And, to top it off, one of them is wearing overalls. Nothing else. No shirt or anything underneath. Just. Overalls.” 

The boys were going wild, you and Matthew laughing along not nearly as hard as they were, either because it simply wasn’t funny, or because you weren’t as drunk as them. “So what you’re saying is,” Matthew starts, a smirk on his face telling you he was about to chirp his teammate as his arm snaked around your waist and pulled you in to him. “This guy had better style than you?” 

That line had you laughing, burying your face in Matthew’s shoulder, him kissing the top of your head while Sean glares at him. “Watch it, Chucky, you don’t want both of your black eyes to come from teammates.”

“You act like Johnny is talented enough to do this on purpose.” 

“Hey!” Johnny protests, “I won the Hobey in 2014!” 

“How many years ago was that?” Matthew counters, both of you laughing at the site of Johnny trying to do the math in his head. 

The boys send themselves into a bickering fight, you and Evelina sitting there laughing at them. They were technically men, professional athletes, arguing with each other over what? Who knew.

“What do you think about Matthew’s battle scars, Y/N?” Elias brings you back into the conversation, all the guys looking at you.

You turn to Matthew, reaching up to touch the cut again. “I don’t know,” you tease, scrunching your face up before turning to them, “You still look like a rat,” you joke. The guys burst out in laughter, Matthew’s face getting red. Just loud enough for him to hear, you whisper into him hear, “But, fuck, it’s hot.” 

He kisses you, for a moment forgetting the guys were surrounding you until they start screaming at the sight in front of them. Matthew pulls away, rolling his eyes. “I’m gonna get some drinks for us,” he tells you, getting up and leaving you with his teammates. 

“It’s weird seeing him so in love,” Elias says, staring down at his drink. 

You feel heat rushing to your cheeks, panic coming over you, suddenly praying that Matthew would come back as fast as he could with your drinks. “In love?” you barely squeak out. Evelina gave you an ‘I told you so’ look. “We’re not in love.” 

Elias lets out a laugh, the rest of his teammates feeling the awkward energy that you were producing from being increasingly more comfortable about the prospects that could come from this conversation. “I never said you were. But he’s been in love with you since he met you. It’s nice that he’s finally acted on it.” 

You really didn’t know how to react. You had thought that Evelina was just exaggerating this entire time, that he just liked you at most. You were both just horny, the nearest single person to each other. But in love? “Um, I think I’m going to go see where he is,” you say, getting up and leaving before they could say anything else that would make you uncomfortable. 

Pushing your way through the crowded bar, you can’t find Matthew ordering the drinks like he said he would. You get up to the bar trying to see if you can find him, ordering your own drink while you wait for him. 

“So, I’ve never seen you here before,” a guy’s voice comes in your ear, a chill running down your spine knowing that it wasn’t Matthew’s voice. You just nod at him, hoping that it would give him the signal that you weren’t interested. You turn and look past him, trying to find Matthew in the group of people. “Are you here with anyone? A boyfriend?” 

You ignore his weird question, trying to find Matthew in the crowd. You finally spot him, against the wall where he had you pinned when you first walked in. He was leaning there, casually, almost with too much comfort as the girl he talked to laughed and hung onto every word he said. You weren’t bothered by it until you notice he has one drink in his hand, the girl holding a drink that looks much like the one he would have gotten you, a vodka sour. Whatever love Elias thought Matthew felt for you, obviously wasn’t there tonight. Focusing your attention back to the guy in front of you, you swallow hard. “No, no boyfriend.” 

“Perfect,” you swear the guy says, moving closer to you as he signals the bartender to get you a drink on his tab. He starts rambling about something, something that you can’t pay attention to while you’re watching the girl talking with Matthew. She was perfect: skinny, pin-straight blonde hair, from where you were sitting she looked to have perfect skin, style way better than yours as you looked down at the simple jeans and plain shirt you had on. He’s fixated on her, clearly because she was attractive. You can’t understand why him talking with another girl is even making you feel this way.

You aren’t his girlfriend. Why should you care? Why do you care? 

But why wasn’t he looking over at you and this guy who was so clearly trying to flirt with you?

The guy in front of you keeps talking, either not noticing that you’re not looking at him, or not caring. “Have you heard the one where the guy is found dead but he’s suspended in the air with nothing underneath him?”

You look at this guy, having no idea how you got to the conversation you found yourself in. “He stood on top of a block of ice and died once the ice melted away underneath him. Did you know in Early Hollywood, when child actors were misbehaving on set, they would be sent to the ‘black box,’ which was a block of ice they had to sit on as punishment?”

“That’s nice,” the guy responds, not listening to begin with as he goes on another rant about whatever. Matthew would have had you tell him more about Early Hollywood, watching how you lit up as you told him that on the set of the African Queen, everyone got dysentery from drinking the contaminated water except for Humphrey Bogat and John Huston because they would only drink scotch.

Not listening, you absentmindedly sip the drink the bartender had brought you while you watched Matthew. This shouldn’t be bothering you as much as it did, but seeing her touch his arm while she laughed at whatever he said made you insane. He was there, flirting with another girl, when he said he was getting you a drink. You try to take your focus away from Matthew, the guy much closer to you than you had expected him to be. You could practically feel his hot breath against your skin as he talked, hating every second of it.

Matthew is no longer against the wall, the girl still standing there. You swear she was looking at you, taking your attention away from the guys lips connecting to your cheek. You try to push him off, his hands around your waist refusing to let go. 

“Hey,” you hear Matthew’s voice, his hands on your shoulders, prying you away from the  guy, “Get off my girlfriend.” 

“Matthew-” you try to cut in, your hand on his hand while he holds you back, you trying to pull him away so he doesn’t start anything.

“Hey, she said she didn’t have any boyfriend,” the guy says, putting his hands up in defense. 

Matthew turns to you, pain covering his face. He couldn’t look at you without the threat of tears falling, his chest was rising and falling rapidly. He drops his hand, forgetting the guy standing there with you. Trying to stay calm, he bites his bottom lip, shaking his head. “You don’t? That’s great. Good for you,” he says, walking out of the bar. 

“Matthew,” you call, running after him. “Matthew, wait!” The cold from the air outside hits you immediately, direct contrast to the humidity you felt in the bar as you try to catch up to Matthew. 

You finally do, grabbing his hand and turning him around to face you. His face was red, either from the cold or from his emotions getting the best of him, his eyes shining with tears about to fall. “What? What do you care? Go back in and flirt with him.” 

“What about you?” you fire back, Matthew taking a step back at your voice raising, “You said you were getting me a drink and then I find you standing against the wall you were kissing me against not an hour earlier with another girl.” 

He scoffs, shock covering your face, “So because we’re seeing each other, I can’t talk to another girl? You’re the only girl I can have in my life?” 

“I’m the girl in your life? Who even am I to you? You couldn’t call me your girlfriend in front of Evelina, my best friend, but you can say it to some creep in the bar? Did you just call me that to get him off of me, or do you actually think of me that way?” 

He looks down at his shoes, his curls moving more than the rest of his head as he shook it in disappointment. Looking up at you, a sad smile was plastered on his face. “You really don’t know? After all this time, you don’t know how I feel about you? I shouldn’t even have to say it to you, Y/N.” 

“I’m not a mind reader, Matthew, I need you to say it. I want you to say it,” you spit back at him, the distance between you too big for your comfort as tears rolled down your cheeks. “We haven’t talked about anything. How am I supposed to know how you feel when I look for you and you have another girl throwing herself at you. You could take home any girl in that bar, except for Evelina, if you wanted to. And who’s to say you wouldn’t?”

“You’re fucking joking,” he says, you taking a step further from him. “There’s no one I want to go home with in that bar besides you. You’re the only one I ever want to go home with.”

“Then what am I to you?” you ask him again, the cold air hitting your cheeks. You knew the people walking around you were stopping to stare at the scene you and Matthew were causing there in the street. 

“What about me?” he asks, calmly. “What am I to you? It doesn’t matter what you are to me if you can’t figure that out.” You both stand there in silence. You know Matthew is staring at you but you can’t muster up the courage to look at him. You can’t tell him, for whatever reason. You can’t admit to yourself, to Evelina, especially not to him how you felt. “You know what?” he breaks the silence, “Just go finish your fucking list about why you hate me. It’s certainly better than just being your fuck buddy.”

You feel your breath stop, panic washing over you. “What?”

[pinkpastels113]

Talk Numbers To Me

Rating: G

Word Count: 3,326

Pairing: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell

Summary: In which Chloe gets help from her mathematical genius.

End B/C. One-Shot. Fluff. Tumblr prompt.

Read on ao3 or ff.net or below.

Prompt from anon; hope you all like.

Chloe shuffles her papers, kicking her feet in frustration at the numbers swirling in her head. Her hand flies to her hair, the pencil tangling in its strands.

“You okay there, Chloe?”

She looks up, sees Stacie blink questioningly at her from the microwave, and gives a tentative smile. “Yeah, just...” she sighs. “Homework.”

Stacie nods, retrieving her dinner burritos and closing the microwave door. “Do you need help?”

Chloe bites her lip and looks back down at the sheets of homework staring back at her from the kitchen table, its once clean blank lines now covered in blurry grey smudges. She doesn’t want to be of any inconvenience. “Nah, I’ll be okay. Thank you though, Stacie.”

“Are you sure?” Stacie grabs for a napkin before making her way over, “Because if it’s science, I can definitely help you out.”

Chloe carefully detangles her pencil from her pounding head, laying it back down onto the wooden surface. It’s not science, but something in Stacie’s tone of voice has her intrigued. “Oh?”

Stacie pulls out a chair, sits. She sets her styrofoam plate down onto an area not littered by mountains of paperwork and reaches for the one directly in front of Chloe. “Yup. I double major in Chemistry and Biomedical engineering. Which pretty much covers all the sciences that you could possibly take in your second senior year.”

Chloe raises her eyebrows, impressed. “Wow. I didn’t know that you double major, Stace. That’s amazing.”

Her fellow Bella just shrugs, eyes quickly scanning the page. “Eh, it’s alright. I love science anyways so it’s no big deal.” She then pauses, presumably figuring out that the subject of Chloe’s dilemma is most definitely not the one of which she is an expert in. “Oh, this is math.”

Chloe groans just at the mention of the word, tilting her head back to the fluorescent light of the kitchen ceiling. “Yeah, math. The worst form of torture in the entire world.”

Stacie just chuckles, shaking her head, “Only to people who don’t understand it.” She then stands, clutching Chloe’s topic of frustration between a thumb and forefinger. “I would love to help you out, Chloe, but I think someone else may be better at explaining this for you. She is a math genius after all.”

Chloe gets out of her chair as well, brows furrowing curiously as she trails behind the tall brunette, only then realizing that they are making their way to the living room, where the sounds of the tv can be heard, signalling the presence of the rest of the Bellas. “Someone else? Who else could be better at math than a Biomedical engineer?”

“Someone who actually studies it.”

And before Chloe could even ponder over which Bella would possibly want to subject themselves to the torture that is freaking mathematics, they have reached the entrance of the living room, and Stacie has called out the answer.

“Hey, Beca!”

What?

Chloe gapes, completely taken aback as she watches the unrequited love of her life look up from the screen of her phone at the mention of her name. “Yeah?”

Stacie waves the paper in her hand even as she continues to stalk forward. “Chloe needs your help with some math. I said that I would, but I just figured that a double math and physics major such as yourself would be a much better and viable option.”

Understandably, Chloe is not the only one in the room to have no previous knowledge of this news, or the only one to be completely shocked by it. Fat Amy turns away from the tv to quirk a disbelieving brow. “Double major? Shawshank? Math and Physics ?”

Chloe couldn’t help but agree. She knows that it’s wrong and impolite to underestimate a person’s abilities on what he or she could or not do, especially when said abilities are in academics—after all, they are all still in college—but Beca ? One of her best friends in the whole wide world, not to mention her secret crush/obsession/favorite person/love of her life and possibly all the lives she could possibly have hereafter—if she believes in that kind of stuff, which she kind of does, especially if it pertains to a possibility of her getting together with said love in one of those lives in the far future—with whom she had been pining for—especially at the times where it had been particularly difficult and tiresome—seemingly since the beginning of time? Beca, who would always tend to blow off school until the very last minute; Beca, who would rather spend time fiddling with her music in her room all by herself with just her and her headphones rather than indulge in books or people or anything not involving of her mixing board unless someone—usually Chloe—had to physically drag her away from the screen of her computer to go hang out? Beca?

Shouldn’t she have known everything there is to know about Beca in all these years—albeit technically that only includes two, but sometimes she really just feels like they have known each other since they were kids—that they’ve been friends? Teammates? Roommates? Family?

Beca rolls her eyes, stretching her arms in front of her chest to pull her body into a proper sitting position on the side of the couch. She locks and tosses aside her phone. “Yeah, I couldn’t decide which one to pick so I just decided to go for both. You guys didn’t know?”

Chloe finally finds it within herself to blurt out something that does not include her incredulity of the small brunette being capable of taking the most ruthless and tedious majors that there could possibly be in all the majors one could take at Barden University, “No, Beca, we didn’t.”

Jessica, Ashley, Flo, and Cynthia Rose collectively shake their heads in agreement.

Lilly just blinks, and Fat Amy’s lone brow stays exactly where it is.

Stacie snorts, Chloe’s paper dangling casually between two perfectly manicured nails against her side as she crosses her arms, shifting her weight onto one foot, “Figures. I suppose you all didn’t know that I am a double major too, did you?”

Six of the Bellas’ attention spotlight on the slightly indignant brunette, gasps and shouts of surprise and amazement instantly tossed into the air, Stacie’s explanation of the functionality of Biomedical Engineering immediately a follow up, but Chloe barely notices, because she is too busy having a silent exchange with her co-captain still situated on the couch.

She widens her eyes. Is this true? Are you being serious?

Beca nods, smirks. Hell yeah I am.

Chloe tilts her head, pouts. Why didn’t you tell me?

Beca shrugs. Didn’t find a reason to. She then rubs the back of her neck, looking suddenly sheepish and uncomfortable. And it’s not like it’s a big deal.

Chloe frowns, shakes her hands about. It is a big deal to me ! She then gestures between the pair of them. We’re friends, Becs, we are supposed to tell each other these kinds of things!

Beca tips her chin to the front of her chest, tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, and then peers at her shyly through her lashes. Sorry, Chlo.

Chloe’s heart melts, her feet immediately carrying her forward, and she lowers herself onto the couch cushions next to Beca, taking extensive care to not sit on her phone. She offers a soft and forgiving smile, before pulling her best friend swiftly into a hug. Don’t be sorry, Beca. She presses a kiss to her cheek. It’s okay.

Beca’s body relaxes, and somehow Chloe understands that the small brunette is relieved of the fact that Chloe is not mad or judgemental or flighty about how she is a double major in both math and physics. Chloe wonders if that is the reason why Beca hadn’t told her—that she had been afraid of her reaction—and if that is the reason why she had put on a brave face in front of the Bellas.

Beca always pretends like everything is fine and ineffective to her well being when she feels extremely self-conscious. She likes to put on a hard shell and proclaim the attitude of a “badass” to balm over her real emotions, to put on a show of I don’t care and whatever to mask over the I do care and I do feel.

Chloe gets the feeling that if it hadn’t been for Stacie—who’d most likely just stumbled across the discovery by accident—none of them would have known, until possibly graduation, when someone questioningly points out the lettering of her certificate, the duality of her degree.

Beca is bashful, self-conscious, secretive , of her abilities and status as a mathematical genius.

Chloe puts her lips to Beca’s ear. “Help me with my homework, please.”

She feels her best friend shiver, pull away, her beautiful stormy blues shy and reluctant as they flit across Chloe’s face, search between her eyes, and Chloe just sits and stays and waits until she says yes.

“Okay.”

Chloe beams, her arms unconsciously going around to surround Beca’s back for another embrace before she pulls away, and she stands up and makes her way over to Stacie, a bounce in her step as she taps the tall brunette—who’s now making fun of herself for being the “hot one” of the group—on the shoulder to get her attention, smiling gratefully when she turns and notices and hands her paper over.

“Thanks, Stace,” she says, winking to signal the double sentiment of her gratitude for both the help and the revelation of the information, grinning widely as Stacie comprehends and nods.

Hazel greens flash quickly and meaningfully to the slight brunette in the room, “Anytime.”

Chloe lets her return to her conversation with the rest of the Bellas, spinning around to purse her lips questioningly to ask Beca where it is that she wants to go.

My room.

Chloe leads the way, making a brisk detour to the kitchen to gather up her things, and she speeds up the stairs and skips down the hall, letting herself into the double bedded bedroom Beca currently shares with Amy.

“So why’d you choose math?” She decides between the bed and the desk chair, going for the bed.

Beca takes the chair. “I dunno,” she shrugs, “Just wanted to, I guess.”

Chloe sets the papers down onto the bedding, and makes herself comfortable. “You must really enjoy it for it to be a half of your double major, Becs.”

Beca gives a noncommittal hum, crossing her legs and wiping her hands onto the dark denim.

“And what about Physics? Any reason why you wanted to study that as well?”

“Oh,” Beca glances to her mixing board, “That’s just for sound engineering. It really makes it easier to find and test out the best places for a good mashup, and it’s really just useful for the recording and production of music.”

Chloe makes a small noise of understanding, following her line of sight briefly before going for the subject catalysing the shocking news of that evening. She picks up the first sheet of her homework, smoothing it out before offering it enthusiastically forwards, “So, math genius, you wanna let me know how it’s done?”

Beca grins, one hand caught between her thighs modestly as the other one reaches for the paper, “Sure, Beale. Good to know that you’re actually in need of my help for something.”

Chloe pushes back her hair, blinking at her in confusion, “What do you mean?”

Beca hides her face behind the frustrating sheet of paper, “Nothing. Just that you always seem to know exactly what you’re doing. Everybody always seems to go to you for help, never the other way around.”

Chloe’s heart flutters in her chest, and she has to push it down before it can go all swoony over the likely unintentional romantic admission. Later. “I don’t always seem to know exactly what I’m doing, Beca. I usually just wing it, and hope for the best.” At Beca’s disbelieving but playful scoff, she leans forward to bend over the top half of her paper, revealing Beca’s face, “And I’m here now, aren’t I? Math has always been a subject that I can absolutely not deal with.”

Beca rolls the tip of her tongue over the fronts of her teeth, “Only cuz nobody but nerds like me actually gets it. Still doesn’t establish the fact that you’re no less amazing and brilliant at everything else you do.”

If Beca had been Chloe’s girlfriend—if she had been dreaming that she is—Chloe would have lunged forward and kissed her senseless.

Settling for biting her lower lip anxiously to withhold the urge, Chloe gestures to the paper in her hands. “Well? Do you know how to do this?”

Beca looks like she’s just been snapped out of a daze. “Oh yeah, totally.” She spins around in her chair to reach for her bag, unzipping it and pulling out a tiny whiteboard from the utmost layer, as well as an Expo marker. “It’s kinda easy, actually. I can explain it.”

Chloe giggles at the materials in her hands as Beca turns back around. “Aw, that’s so cute!”

Beca glares, laying the whiteboard on one side of her lap and the paper in the other. “Shut up. It’s just convenient.”

Chloe mimes zipping and locking her lips and throwing away the key, but the smile on her face is irreplaceable.

Beca nudges open the cap of the Expo, letting it drop softly onto the floor at her feet as she rereads the question. “So, it says that this Marco dude needs to figure out where his stupid ball is gonna land if he throws it over the top of a building, so we have to make a graph.”

Chloe laughs, already comfortable with the familiar way Beca seems to make any situation less intimidating, “Do you talk to yourself like that when you do your own math?”

“Do you want my help or not?”

“Sorry, sorry,” Chloe lays a hand over her mouth in an attempt to stifle her amusement. “Carry on.”

Beca shakes her head, apparently having gotten very invested in her knowledge of math despite being self-conscious of it, “Jesus, Chlo. Anyways,” she brings the tip of the marker onto the whiteboard to draw two perpendicular lines, “Here’s the graph—” she draws a rectangle to represent the aforementioned building, along with a dot at the y-intercept, “—and here’s our dude.”

“Ooh, can we write down Marco,” Chloe interrupts, bouncing in her seat and pointing to the blank and boring dot.

Beca gives her a look, before sarcastically heeding her request. Five letters were squished against the side of the y-axis with an adorable arrow, “There. Happy?”

Chloe blows her a kiss, “Very.”

Beca sighs, dramatically, before continuing on, “So as I was saying, there’s Marco, and his ball is—” she scribbles down a number next to the side, “Thrown from this height, and we need to figure out—” she dashes a parabolic line towards the situational ground, “Where this —” she makes another dot, labelling it “splat”—much to Chloe’s delight— on the x-axis, “Is.”

Chloe nods vigorously, chin in her hands as she shifts closer to the edge of the bed, her butt just barely situated on the mattress now as she leans closer for a better look, “Yeah, totes.”

Beca doesn’t seem to notice her new proximity, on a roll now that she has gotten started, “And they have given you the formula so now, considering the fact that gravity is a thing and negative distances are not—” she copies down the formula and writes down what the variables represent for her right under, “You just have to plug all this shit in to get the answer.”

“Ohh,” Chloe says, getting it, but it falls on deaf ears as Beca seems to automatically plug in the figures for her, crossing out variables and scribbling down altercations as she goes along, and Chloe’s jaw drops, as seconds later, she has come to a conclusion.

Beca scribbles down “20 feet” and circles it victoriously, a small but satisfactory “Aha” escaping her lips as she holds the whiteboard up to the light. “There, I got it.”

A sudden wave of heat pools low in her belly, and Chloe gasps as she tries to make sense of the unexpected spike of arousal at the sight of the wide and unrestrained and confident grin painting across Beca’s lips, at the sight of the happiness and satisfaction sparkling within stormy blues, and at the sight of the pink and musically talented tongue clenched between Beca’s teeth, as if used as an anchor to her excitement of getting another math problem right.

Holy heck, Beca Mitchell is hot when she does math.

Chloe must have made a distracting sound, because Beca suddenly jolts, as if just then realizing that she is not alone, pink flushing into her cheeks as she lowers the whiteboard, her uncontainable grin fading into a sheepish smile, and she meekly hands the answer over.

“Sorry,” she says, fidgeting uncomfortably in her chair, eyes downcast to her feet as she watches them scuffle nervously against the floor, “I just got so excited. I don’t know what came over me, Chlo, I—” she visibly swallows, “I hadn’t meant to just finish your problem for you.”

Screw it. It doesn’t freaking matter that Beca is not her girlfriend.

Chloe pushes the whiteboard aside and grasps the arms of Beca’s chair, yanking it and the person in it towards her waiting mouth, and she kisses her best friend/secret crush/obsession/favorite person/love of her life/mathematical genius square on the lips with as much fervor—if not more—as the moment previous in which she had desired to dole out when Beca had inadvertently complimented her as an amazing and capable and kind individual in and of itself, and she groans, her feet spreading to accommodate the chair between her legs and her brain kicking into overdrive to accommodate the gasp fluttering into her mouth.

Beca freezes, her eyes still presumably wide open as Chloe nips against her lips, and Chloe is just about to pull away and chart the situation up to another uncontrollable heat of the moment when she feels the small brunette reciprocate, arms wrapping around her neck and lips pressing closer, and Chloe slides her hands down from the arms of the chair to tuck between the cushion of the seat and Beca’s thighs, lifting her up and into the air before prompting dumping her in her lap, and she giggles as Beca huffs at the ease of which she has completed the action.

“Show off,” Beca grumbles, her minty breath a mournful absence as she pulls her mouth away to kiss the angle of Chloe’s jaw, “This is exactly what I had meant.”

Chloe tilts her head to allow Beca more access, “Coming from the person who had just figured out the answer to my mathematical problem in just a number of seconds, I think you are being irrational, Beca.”

Beca laughs, her nose nuzzling into the side of her neck affectionately at the pun, and Chloe’s heart pounds, her fingers immediately going to scramble her papers off the bed and her body further onto it. “That literally calculates up to zero creativity, Chlo.”

“Whatever,” she says, adjusting herself amongst the blue sheets and rectangular pillows, “I’m not a mathematical nerd, unlike someone I know.”

“Mm,” Beca reconnects their lips, her fingers playing the ends of Chloe’s hair, “Speaking of, are we gonna finish your homework?”

“Later,” Chloe tugs at their clothes, her tongue darting out to trace the seam of Beca’s wide and unrestrained smile, “We can do it later. Right now I just want my hot and secretive mathematical genius to talk numbers to me.”

---

I rushed through this in the span of four hours (not nearly long enough for me to make grammatical and detailing errors) so I hope you all enjoyed it despite my laziness :P

Also, if you’re the anon who gave me this prompt, I hope I did you justice, and that I hope you liked it despite any intentions that you had initially had at the suggestion of this prompt (I know I did, but oh well, what’s done is done, and I’m honestly just happy that I am finished lol).

Let me know what you all think! :))

[romantichopelessly]

Peppermint, Ginger, Lemongrass and Truth

This is part of the @sanderssidesgiftxchange for @randomfactscenteral based on their wishes for LAMP and a fantasy AU! I had a lot of fun writing this and I hope that you enjoy it! <3

Synopsis: Patton Bellerose is a witch. This wouldn't be a problem, if he didn't have to find out a way to tell his three boyfriends, Logan, Virgil and Roman before sunset on his birthday.

Words: 2.6k

----

Orange peel for blessings and luck, nettle leaves for courage, and plain old chamomile for encouraging him to finally stop overthinking and get to sleep. Patton let the tea steep for four minutes before pulling his kitty cat mug off the bottom shelf and pouring himself a steaming mug.

Patton paused, staring into the amber swirls of the tea. He deliberated a moment, remembering his older brother’s ever common reminders to Patton to take his magic seriously, before he promptly ignored said reminders and added two heaping spoonfuls of honey.

Across the room, the digital clock on his microwave read 11:27. Patton huffed. There was nothing more frustrating than being unable to fall asleep. Patton had always hated restlessness, especially when he was alone in his tiny apartment.

As if on cue, there was a tiny croak from beside Patton’s elbow. Patton lifted his head from where he had let it drop into his arms and looked to his left. He squinted--it was hard to see in the dim kitchen lights without his glasses, which he had stupidly left on his bedside table in the next room--and made a little face.

“What are you croaking at?” Duchess, the frog that was sitting on Patton’s kitchen bar like she owned the place managed to look completely unimpressed. Patton almost smiled. Were he not so worried about tomorrow, he would have.

Duchess croaked again.

Patton sighed, pulling his mug closer and taking a long sip of his tea. “By this time tomorrow, you’ll be able to speak to me, Chessy. There’s no use lecturing me now. You’ll have the rest of my life to do that.”

And it was true. Despite the usual lifespan of Duchess’s type of frog, as Patton’s familiar, she was cursed (gifted? Patton would have to ask her how she felt about that when he could tomorrow) to live just as long as Patton himself did.

Tomorrow, which began in less than half an hour now, January 15th, was Patton Bellerose’s 21st birthday. And like every other member of the Bellerose family on their 21st birthdays, Patton would be gaining his full powers as soon as the sun set tomorrow.

Which meant that he would have to tell his boyfriends that he was a witch before then.

Patton hadn’t meant to put it off so long. Really, he had planned to tell them weeks ago, things had just… never fallen into place.

It wasn’t that he thought that they would react badly. Patton had been slowly showing them little displays of his powers for months now and they hadn’t shown any sign of fear or outrage yet. Of course, Logan often explained away Patton’s impeccable luck or way with plants as probability and experience, and if Patton wasn’t so unbelievably fond of him, he would have been frustrated at his hardheadedness.

If Logan had figured it out on his own, Patton would never have to deal with telling them at all. Rather unfair of him to be so picky with where he employed his massive intelligence.

To make matters worse, Patton couldn’t tell even partially how the conversation would go down, because he had never had a talent for prophecy. Not like his brother did, at least, and Patton had already exhausted that route. J refused to perform a reading for Patton’s birthday and whether or not his boyfriends would react well to the knowledge of magic existing. So, Patton would have to approach this like any other human, completely in the dark. The uncertainty of telling the three men that he loved more than anything about his biggest secret was… well… keeping Patton up at night.

He couldn’t stop himself from envisioning their reactions. Patton was usually an optimist. He dealt well with luck magic and hopeful manifestation, which more often than not kept his mind away from anxious spirals.

Virgil would have known what to do in this moment. Or, at the very least, he would have kept Patton company while he worried, and oftentimes that was more than enough. Patton smiled softly at the thought.

Then of course, thinking of Virgil pulled his thoughts right back to what Virgil would say tomorrow when Patton told him who--or, rather, what--he was.

He could see it clearly. Virgil was very superstitious. He feared the unknown like no one Patton had ever met before. If--When--Patton were to tell him about magic, Virgil would surely fall into a spiral, questioning all that he knew. He did that at least twice a week as it was!

Patton groaned, burying his face in his hands. His tea was cooling, forgotten on the counter beside him.

Maybe he should start by telling Roman or Logan, then. They would be able to help him break the news to Virgil.

Patton peaked his eyes out between his fingers and looked up at the ceiling.

He could see it now. Roman was a firm believer in fate and romance. He adored fairytales and princess movies, so would it really be such a reach for him if Patton told him that he was a witch? He would be excited about it, right?

Except… Except Patton had been over this route of thinking before.

Roman, above all else, valued honesty. The foundation for all good relationships was truth, after all. His hopeless romanticism was one of his best qualities, in Patton’s humble opinion, but it would also be Patton’s downfall. After dating for nearly two years, to come out with a truth bomb like “Hey RoRo! Did you know that magic is actually real, and I’ve been lying to you about who I am ever since we met? I’m a witch and I do magic! So, would you like to meet my familiar?”

Even if Roman didn’t take Patton’s confession as a breach of trust, there was only one other feasible response that Patton could envision.

What if Roman expected Patton to do magic for him?

Patton shook that thought away. He should be ashamed of himself, thinking so lowly of his own boyfriend. Roman had never given Patton any reason to think that he would do such a thing. They loved each other. And that love extended past anything. Even magic.

Right?

Patton reached blindly out, fumbling for the cup of now lukewarm tea on the counter in front of him. He took a bracing sip.

His boyfriends loved him. Virgil loved him. Roman loved him. Logan loved him.

Logan would not take the news well at all, though. Patton knew this for a fact. Logan based most of his opinions and world views on concrete facts. What would he say once Patton told him that the things he once knew to be fact--that magic did not exist, for instance--were actually incorrect? It would shake the foundation of his entire world view.

Patton could easily envision the look on Logan’s face. The bewildered furrow of his brow. The slight gape of his mouth. The shock and disbelief in his beautiful blue eyes. The betrayal that would mask his face.

Patton’s heart ached.

He was almost thankful that he did not have a gift for premonition. The only way that he was going to make it through tomorrow was knowing that there was a chance--even though it was slim. Very slim. So gosh darn slim, in Patton’s huckleberry humbled opinion--that that expression of earth shattering betrayal would never cross Logan’s face. No amount of nose kisses could erase that--or the imagined fear in Virgil’s eyes, or the disillusioned disappointment in Roman’s.

Patton didn’t sleep that night.

----

“Patton? Darling?”

A hand settled on the small of Patton’s back, startling him out of his own mind. He blinked, smiling reflexively at Logan’s concerned expression. “Yes, honey?”

There was a small furrow in between Logan’s perfectly sculpted brows. Patton wanted to rub it away with the pad of his thumb. He wanted to crack a joke that would make Logan wince, but bring that sparkle that he liked to pretend didn’t exist to his eyes.

“You were distracted again.” It was Roman who spoke this time. He was sitting on the other end of the picnic blanket that the four of them had laid out in the clearing that day. Virgil was sitting in his lap, leaning back against his chest. One of Roman’s hands was in his hair, gently combing through it.

The sight made Patton’s heart flutter for a moment.

His three, beautiful, wonderful, thoughtful boyfriends had surprised him with a picnic for his birthday. And what a lovely day it had been. Just the four of them, enjoying one another’s company…

But now it was almost sunset. And Patton still had not spilled the beans.

How could he, when Virgil was perfectly relaxed, soaking up the sun, and Roman was laughing loudly, his eyes shining, and Logan was humming softly, taking in this perfect moment? Patton bit the inside of his cheek. He knew that he was just stalling, but the idea of possibly shattering this perfect moment was making something in his stomach curdle. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the grass underneath his palm start to wither.

“Sorry.” His voice was small, almost squeaky, but it was all he could hope to get out. He moved his hand.

Virgil opened his eyes. As soon as they met Patton’s, he knew that he was done for. Concern and knowing filled Virgil’s hazel eyes. Patton would have to say something quickly--before his boyfriend jumped to the worst possible conclusion.

He must have hesitated just too long, however, the words stuck in his throat like a wad of chewing gum, because Virgil spoke before he could. “What’s wrong, Pat?” Virgil’s voice was gruff. Patton closed his eyes, shame and guilt for causing his boyfriends to worry burning in his chest. He knew that voice of Virgil’s. It was the exact one that he had feared. Virgil was anxious.

“Nothing.” It was a feeble attempt, and they all knew it. Patton felt like he was going to be sick. He wished that he had cast a calming spell on himself that morning.

By now, all three of his boyfriends had their eyes trained on him, with varying degrees of worry on their faces. “Patton-” Logan started, but Virgil stopped him.

“No. It isn’t nothing. Patton, what is going on? You’ve been acting off, like, all week.” Patton gulped. Virgil’s voice softened a bit. “You can tell us. Please. What are you so worried about, babe?”

Patton opened his mouth. And closed it again. As if he could sense the conflict going on inside of Patton, Roman shifted forward, careful not to move Virgil off of his lap and grasped Patton’s free hand. Logan’s hand, which was still on the small of Patton’s back, began to move in small, soothing circles.

“I’m a witch.” He blurted, his eyes squeezed shut once again. “I mean- my whole family is. I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while now, but I just- I couldn’t- and now it’s my birthday and in a few minutes, when the sun sets, my full powers are going to come in, and I knew that I wouldn’t be able to hide it when that happened, so I’ve been trying to tell you, but you were all so happy and I didn’t want to ruin the mood, but I’ve been lying and- I just- I’m sorry.”

He opened one eye. Just a crack. Just enough to see his boyfriend’s faces in the dimming afternoon light.

Logan looked shocked, to say the least. Patton could practically see the gears turning in his mind, turning over Patton’s words and examining them from every angle. His hand had paused in its comforting movements on Patton’s back, but he didn’t dare complain. It felt like there was a little chip in his heart.

Roman looked surprised, his gentle smile frozen on his face and his lips parted slightly, as if paused in the middle of an intake of breath. His expression was borderline unreadable. Patton suppressed a wince.

Patton’s gaze slipped over to his third boyfriend, his heart heavy in his chest. But Virgil wasn’t frozen like Logan or Roman. He didn’t even look surprised.

He didn’t look afraid.

Patton did not allow himself to feel hopeful for what that could mean.

Virgil looked almost… calmer than he had before Patton had said what was on his mind. His shoulders were more relaxed, and he was leaning back against Roman once again. He didn’t look at all like Patton had feared. There was no terror. No alarm. It was as if… as if this wasn’t a shock at all.

“V-Virgil?” Patton’s voice was almost inaudible. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Logan and Roman beginning to move, as if they had just returned to their bodies.

Virgil slid forward, off of Roman’s lap. Roman made a small noise of disagreement, and Patton felt a delirious urge to smile. He didn’t. Virgil wrapped his hands around both of Patton’s, bringing his attention away from the cataclysm in his mind. Patton noticed right then that Roman must have dropped his hands somewhere in the middle of his rambling confession.

“It’s okay, Patton.” Patton blinked, startled. He glanced back at Roman and Logan, who looked just as confused as he was. Virgil rubbed his thumbs across Patton’s knuckles, and he turned his attention forward again. “I… sort of already guessed.”

Patton’s mouth dropped open.

“What?” Roman shrieked. “You- You guessed that-”

Virgil shrugged, but there was a tension in his shoulders again as he looked defensively back at Roman. “Yes. It was sort of obvious.”

“I do not believe that obvious is the word that you are looking for, Virgil.” Logan responded. “How could you have guessed-”

“Please.” Virgil rolled his eyes, cutting Logan off. “Have you known anyone who is as good with plants as Patton?” Logan blinked, but did not respond. “Or what about how good he is with animals? Or how the weather is always perfect when all four of us go out?” Logan blinked. It looked as if something was dawning on him. Virgil continued. “And how Patton’s tea always cures our headaches? Has that ever happened before you met Patton? It had to be something like this. It’s-”

“Magic!” Roman gasped, his hand on his chest and a sparkle returning to him. He looked at Patton with wonder in his eyes. “It’s magic! You- Really-”

“Duh.” Virgil answered for him. Patton couldn’t stop himself from the incredulous laugh that burst from him.

There was a pause. Logan, who had been very obviously mulling over the information that Patton and Virgil had just placed before him, spoke next. “How much… exactly-”

Patton’s heart skipped a beat, tendrils of fear creeping back into his chest. However, once again, Virgil saved him by answering first.

“Not now, Logan.” Logan looked a bit put out by this response, but Virgil nudged him jovially with his elbow. “Later. Right now-” Patton looked up. The sky was a burning orange. “The sun is setting. Patton?”

Patton took a deep breath. “Yes?” He wished that his worry wasn’t so obvious.

This time Roman leaned forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You know we love you, right? This could never change anything about how we feel about you.” A lump grew in Patton’s throat. “You’re our person, our love! And we will be here for you.”

Logan cleared his throat and tried for a smile. It made something in Patton’s chest fill up like a balloon. “Yes. We will have plenty of time to discuss, but our love for you is never up for debate.”

Three faces looked back at Patton, pride and love glowing from them as the bright golden light of the sun haloed them like the angels they were. The sun set behind them, and they held him the whole time. Evening set upon the park and the four men in it, and tears welled in Patton’s eyes as they began to glow a brilliant silvery blue.

[janicho88]

Falling For You - Part 1

Pairing- Dean x Lisa(past),  Female!Reader x OMC Justin(past), Eventual Dean x Female!Reader

Word Count-3019

Warning- Mentions of cheating, slight angst. This is going to be a bit of a slow burn.

A/N- I had an idea for a one shot, and giving a backstory to Dean and the Reader meeting took on a life of its own. This story is AU, and un beta’d.

Summary- After being burned before you had sworn off finding love for now. Coming home from work one night there is a strange man pounding on your door.  Neither of you knew what this meeting would lead to. 

Series Masterlist

  It had been a long day at work and you just wanted to get home to your couch, although you knew that would have to wait.  The apartment needed some cleaning, and you needed to wash laundry too. You had put it off, work keeping you busier than usual the last 2 weeks, and you really should go hit the gym.  You had been slacking there too. 

The elevator was being inspected when you walked in the building so you had taken the stairs  Reaching your floor you were surprised to find a man standing in front of your door continuously knocking.  Slowing walking over you looked around, no one else seemed to be near.  Knowing the time, your neighbor across the hall, Jess was probably on her way home from work, you weren’t completely certain about her fiancé though.  The other two apartments on this level kept to themselves. 

“Hi, Can I help you?”  You cautiously asked.

“Nope.”

“Are you sure?”

The greenest eyes you had ever seen turned to look at you with a grin forming. “Thanks, but I’m just waiting for my brother to let me in, unless you want to give me your number for later?”

“I’m good thanks, but why is your brother letting you in there?”  You didn’t get any danger vibes from this guy, so you weren’t too worried about standing here talking to him yet.

“Well miss nosey, it’s because he lives there.”

“I don’t think he does.”

“Really, and how would you know anything?”  The man back to pounding on your door.

Before you could respond Jess’ fiancé Sam came running up the steps sweaty from his evening jog.

“Dude, you weren’t supposed to be here till tomorrow, and why are you blocking Y/N’s door?”  Sam unlocked his door across from you and went to hug his brother.

The man backed away from him, “Seriously man? You’re sweaty and gross, shower first. I needed to get out of there, and traffic on the way up was pretty light.  You told me you and Jess were 44.”

“No Dean, I told you we were 43. We live on the fourth floor in the third apartment number 43.  You weren’t listening,”  Sam turned to you still unable to get into your apartment.  “Sorry Y/N, this is my older brother Dean.  He just got up here from Kansas, he’s staying with us for a little while.  I’ll get him out of your way,”  He leaned down to grab one of Dean’s bags before heading into his apartment.  

Dean turned to look at you then looking at your door before he leaned down to pick up the other bag. “Oops!”  With that he headed into the open apartment and shut the door.  Shaking your head you went to unlock your own door. 

Heading to your bedroom after setting your things down,  you figured if you didn't get your workout done first it wasn’t going to happen.  Quickly changing you grabbed some laundry and went to throw a  load in the washer so the first load would be done when your workout was finished.  Very thankful to have a washer and dryer in your apartment.  Grabbing your key you headed the gym on the ground floor.  An hour on the bike left you feeling a little better, getting out some of your frustrations.  

Back inside your apartment you changed the laundry and started on your dusting and window washing before vacuuming.  Finally finished, you headed for a shower to clean off the dirt and sweat.  

All clean you ventured to the kitchen to see what you could whip up for dinner. When a knock at your door pulled you away.  Who could be here now you wondered.

Opening the door you came face to face with Mr green eyes again.  Shoot, what did Sam say his name was.

“Your brother still lives across the hall.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that.  I swear Sammy told me it was 44.  I just wanted to come say I was sorry for bothering you earlier.  I know the right place now.”

“It’s fine.  Have a nice visit.”

“Thanks it’s not really a visit.  I’m Dean, like he said, I’m his older brother.”

“Y/N, the neighbor.  Nice to meet you Dean.”  Holding out your hand to Dean his bigger hand engulfed it in a firm shake.

“Would you let me take you out for a bite to apologize for my first impression?”   

“I don’t know if that’s a good…”

“It’s not a date,”  He hurriedly cut in.  “It’s just, I mean, you seem like a nice person, and you would probably be a great date, but it’s not.  It will just be food I swear.  Tomorrow afternoon, or night?  I don’t know if you have big Saturday plans?”

“Shouldn’t you be spending time with your brother?”

“He has a work dinner with Jess they can’t miss.”

You thought about it for a moment.  You had been friends with Sam and Jess a little while now and trusted them, so you should be able to trust his brother.  “I’m supposed to go dress shopping with my friend Meg, tomorrow.  We should be done by 6 if you really want to grab some dinner.”

“Sounds good, sweetheart, I’ll knock on your door again then.”

“Okay, goodnight Dean.  Oh and welcome to Michigan.”  Shaking your head you shut the door to go back to your search for tonight’s dinner.  

The fridge was pretty empty, you didn’t even have any frozen microwaveable meals left.  Looks like grocery shopping just became part of your weekend plans.  Settling on a bag of popcorn, it is a vegetable of sorts, somehow right?  You finally headed for the couch and turned on the Hallmark Channel to see if there was a movie you could get lost in for the rest of the evening.  Before you know it, it was time for bed so you could get an early start on tomorrow.

It was an honor to be asked to be the Maid of Honor, right?  You needed to keep reminding yourself of this as you wandered through the dress shop the next day with Meg.  Meg was a friend from elementary school and sometimes you think you are the MoH because many others would not have been able to handle this process with her.  She could be a little blunt and rude, but you were used to this and could take the wedding craziness coming from her.  5 hours and two shops later she finally found the perfect dress for herself.  You couldn’t be happier since you had already spent two other Saturday’s out searching.    

Her fiancé Cas, thankfully had the patience of an angel.  They had met when Meg left for college in Kansas, he was a year older than her.  After graduation he had followed her back up here. Six years later, Cas finally got her to say ‘yes’. She seemed to be a better person with him around, a little kinder.  They would be good for each other and you were very happy for them.

Your love life on the other hand, was not so lucky.  Two months ago, you had broken up with your only serious boyfriend.  A night out with friends had ended in tears when trying out the new bar in town.  You had turned around in time to see a flash of Justin in a corner booth, walking over you found him lip locked with another woman.  You stood there shocked for a moment when the woman noticed you staring and commented on it.  A look of shock on Justin’s face as he quickly moved away from her and tried to explain  The rest of your drink ended up on him as you walked out of the bar.  Meg having seen the whole thing took you home and kept your now ex out when he came over to try and talk to you.  The guys you had been out with before him, hadn’t done much for your faith in men either, having made the choice to give up dating for now.  You were two years away from thirty, and had always thought by now you would have settled down.  Maybe that wasn’t in the cards for you.  

It was only a little after three so you decided to stop at the grocery store on the way home, this way you wouldn’t need to run out tomorrow.  You would be able to just enjoy a day at home.  Arriving home you pulled into your assigned spot and went to empty your car, you were one of those people who tried to carry everything in one trip.  At least the elevator passed yesterday’s inspection and was running today, or it would be a challenge carrying everything at once up 4 flights of stairs.  Although you couldn’t open your door with your hands full and keys in your pocket.  Freeing a hand you finally worked it open as the door opened behind you.  

“Need a hand?”  Turning around Dean was standing in the doorway leading to the opposite apartment.

“You don’t have to, half the challenge was getting it up here.”

“I know I don’t have to,”  As he finished talking Dean leaned down to pick up the discarded bags.  “Dinner for tonight or are we still good to go?”

“Still good to go, I just had an empty fridge and decided to hit the store today and enjoy tomorrow.”

Dean set the bags on the counter and started to unpack them.  Looking at the various items he turned to you holding up molasses and baking soda, “These aren’t your typical dinner items.”

“No, this is me getting a head start on what I need for Christmas baking. I know it’s the start of October, but December comes quick, and I like to have my baking done for my family’s Christmas party the first weekend of December.”

“You bake?”

“Yes, I actually really enjoy it.”

“So what all do you make cookies, cakes, pies maybe?”

Laughing at the hopeful look in his eye at the last item you nodded your head.  “Yes, those plus bars, and different candies.  Christmas I do the most, although not usually pie for that.  Different holidays or events vary, or when I’m in a funk and just want to get lost in my kitchen.”

“Ever need a pie tester, I’ll gladly volunteer.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”  The groceries unloaded Dean looked around before heading out saying he would be back at six.  Glancing at the clock you saw it was almost five and decided to hop in the shower to get cleaned up.  

There was a knock on your door right at six, dressed casually in jeans, a sweater and tall black heeled boots you opened it to see Dean smiling at you. Also having gone casual with jeans and a dark green henley. “Ready to go, Y/N?”

“Yep, all set.  So where are we going Mr. Winchester?”  Dean turned, giving you a funny look, as you got into the elevator “What?”

“How do you know my last name? Been looking into me?”

“You’re Sam’s brother, right?  I kinda thought they would be the same.”

“Oh, yeah, true.  As for our destination, I thought I’d surprise you.”

You screwed up your face but just nodded.  You didn’t want to come across as rude to whatever he was thinking.  Getting in the car he turned to look at you, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”  There wasn’t much you hated more than surprises. 

“Your face said otherwise a minute ago.”

“I was just thinking about something else, all good here,”  You gave him a smile before looking out the window.

A short while later you pulled up outside a bar you hadn’t been to in a few months. Quietly getting out of the car you followed Dean inside.  “Sam told me about this place, he said it was fairly new, but the food is good.  Have you been here yet?”

“Once, but I wasn’t here long enough to eat.”  It was early enough still it wasn’t too busy yet, Dean heading over to a booth asking if that was alright.  You agreed and sat across from him. After ordering drinks and food it was a little awkward between the two of you.  This wasn’t a date, what was it.  You didn’t know the man so it wasn’t even friends hanging out.  Not wanting to sit in silence any longer you decided to break it.

“How long are you visiting for?”

“I’m working on moving up here actually, I’m staying with Sam and Jess while I look for a place and find some work.  Then I’ll head back to Lawrence with Sam and we’re going to drive my stuff back.”

“Oh wow, like the mitten state that much huh?”

Dean was quiet for a moment before answering,  it almost seemed like he was having an internal battle on how to respond.  “I needed a change and my brother and best friend both moved up here. Sam and I were pretty close growing up, and it would be nice to be near him again.  My parents are still in Kansas but have talked about moving for a while.  I can see them heading up here if Sam and Jess are here, especially if they end up having kids. I guess I’m going before I get left behind.”  There was a sadness in his eyes that told you something was missing from his story. 

“What kind of work are you looking for?”  

“I actually was in business with my dad before I left.  Owned an auto repair shop and we specialized in classic car restorations.  Dad’s keeping the shop, but I’m guessing he’ll retire in a year or two and sell it.   Going to see if anyone around here is hiring for now. How about you, what is it that you do?”

“Oh, I work at a physical therapy clinic in the business office.  It’s usually a nice 9-5 job, but we had someone leave unexpectedly in the front office so I’ve been filling in for her and trying to do my work too.  Makes for some later days.  Someone new is starting next week so once they are trained it should calm down again.”  

Dean was watching you and noticed you were doing your best to avoid looking around the bar, your focus either him or the table.  “Is there someone you don’t want to see you here?  A boyfriend I should worry about coming to beat me up?  What’s up?”

“No, nothing like that.”  Taking a deep breath you look up at Dean, “This place doesn't have great memories for me.  The one time I was here I caught my then boyfriend making out with someone else.  It was definitely a surprise, I wasn’t a fan of surprises before, but that was one of the worst I could have.”

“I’m sorry, I guess I should have checked the place with you first.”

Reaching across the table you put your hand on top of Dean’s, “No it’s okay.  I really should just get over it anyways.  It’s stupid on my part, right?”

“Not at all Sweetheart,”  Dean turns his hand over giving yours a squeeze.  “I understand to well how much that stings.”  Letting out a deep breath he continues, “I had been dating this girl for over a year.  Thought she was it ya know.  I came home from work early to surprise her one day and found her in our bed with another guy.”

“Oh Dean, I am so sorry!”

 He gave you a little smile before continuing, “It was my house. I kicked her out and put it up for sale, packed up my stuff and ended up storing it at my parents while I was staying in my childhood bedroom.  I just couldn’t stay there.  Got lucky it sold in a few months. I would see the two of them all around town and needed to get out of there.  Sammy, and my childhood best friend, Cas like it up here so I decided to give it a shot”

“Wait, Cas?  Is he engaged to Meg?”

“Uh, yeah why?”

“She’s my best friend, I’m her maid of honor.  I’ve met Cas, he’s a great guy.”

“Yeah, she’s good for him.  Takes him out of his comfort zone.  Good for them, me on the other hand.  I don’t see myself dating anytime soon.”

“Me either, I don’t have the best luck with relationships. I’m sorry for what you went though, you didn’t deserve that.”  

“Neither did you.” You both sat there taking in what the other had said. 

Dean spoke first,  “I wouldn’t mind making a new friend though.  Especially if she needs any taste testing when baking.”  

Laughing before leaning back against the booth more relaxed than you had been, “I think new friends are good.”  

Deciding it was time to lighten the subject you asked him another question.  “So what brought Sam up here?  I know Jess was from Indiana, not here either.”  

“After law school Sam had been offered a position in a big firm in Ann Arbor, which I guess is like  30-40 minutes from here.  Jess didn't want to live in the bigger city, she wanted to be in a little smaller town if they could.  She said they did big city living in California during college and could visit Ann Arbor, or Chicago from here.  Sam liked the idea of that too.  I think they are both thinking of where they want to raise kids eventually”

“This is a good town to grow up in, I did.  Why they moved here never came up in conversation. I’ve hung out with her and Meg before, and neither mentioned Sam and Cas were from the same town.” 

  The two of you spent the rest of the night talking and laughing more at ease knowing where the other stood. It was after 11 when Dean pulled back into the apartment parking lot.  This had been one of the best nights you had had in awhile.

Part 2

Thank you for reading!!

Tags  @talesmaniac89 @katehuntington @winchest09 @flamencodiva @whatareyousearchingfordean @waywardbeanie @deanwanddamons​ @smol-and-grumpy @emoryhemsworth @anathewierdo @malfoysqueen14 @superfanficnatural @jensengirl83 @atc74 @sandlee44 @akshi8278  @fantasydevil2002

[mermaidsneedwater]

you take care of him

⇒ jaebeom

As Jaebeom got up from your dining table he winced. His lower back had been bothering him for the past few days, but he refused to say anything being the stubborn person he was.

You stood up and took the plates out of his hand, “Okay, that’s it. Go to our room.”

“What?” He asked, confused at your reaction.

“You heard me, go and wait. I’ll be there in a little bit.”

Surprised at your commanding tone, he complied with your order and headed to the bedroom.

Soon, you entered with what looked like oil. “Take off your shirt.”

Raising and eyebrow he smirked, “Yes ma’am.”

“Easy there old man.” You said holding a hand out against his bare chest. “We’re not doing anything. I’m going to give you a massage.”

“For the record, I’m not old.” He responded, laying on the bed.

“Says the twenty-five year old with back problems.” You teased.

You moved to the side of him on the bed and poured a little lavender oil in your hand. “I read that this relaxes the muscles.”

You rubbed your hands together before spreading the oil on his back. Your hands working the area affecting him. You started with his shoulders before working to his lower back.

“Ahhh, that feels so good baby.” He said laying his head on the bedsheets. “Why didn’t I ask for a massage sooner?”

“I know,” you said, continuing to massage his back, “it’s almost as if sharing your problems with your girlfriend can actually help.”

“Ha ha Y/N.” Jaebeom said rolling his eyes. “I know I should’ve told you earlier.”

You tapped his shoulder to indicate you were done. As he rolled over on his back he propped himself on his elbows.

You crossed your arms, “Why didn’t you just tell me your back was bothering you?”

“I don’t know. I guess I just didn’t want to admit I needed help.” He said, playing with one of his rings.

“I can’t keep playing guessing games with you. If you don’t trust me to help you with your problems then why are we even together?” You asked, hurt that your boyfriend couldn’t rely on you.

Moving himself closer to the end of the bed, Jaebeom brought you in between his legs, taking your hands in his. “It’s not that baby, it’s just me. I’m not used to having someone who cares about me so much in my life. I guess I’m still new to the whole relying on others thing.”

“Okay, just promise you’ll tell me if your back keeps bothering you.” You said, looking up through your eyelashes.

“After that massage? Absolutely.” He smiled.

“I’ll go draw you a bath.” You said shyly. You left his hand to go to the bathroom.

Quickly Jaebeom followed you to find you starting the bath. “Join me?”

“Fine.” You smiled slowly.

⇒ mark

As Mark turned on the light in your shared apartment, he was startled to find you sitting on the couch in the dark.

“Jesus, Y/N are you trying to give me a heart attack?” He said placing a hand over his chest. “You scared me, what are you doing up so late? It’s almost two o’clock.”

“I could ask you the same thing,” you replied, arms crossed. “Jinyoung told me what’s been going on.”

Oh crap. Groaning, Mark ran a hand through his hair.

“You’re barely eating Mark,” you stood up. “That’s why you barely have any energy. It’s why you fainted at practice today. Do you have any idea how scared I was when Jinyoung called me from the hospital?”

Mark made a mental note of killing Jinyoung after this conversation was through.

“I’ve just been–“

“So busy? Stressed? Why would you think that not eating was a good idea?” You finished his sentence teary eyed.

“It’s not that I don’t want to eat, every time I think I’m going to eat something I get anxious thinking about our comeback and I don’t feel hungry.” Mark said.

Walking over to him you took his face in your hands, “I don’t want anything bad to happen you.”

“Nothing is going to happen to me babe.” He rested foreheads against yours.

“Why wouldn’t you call me when you were at the hospital today,” you looked at him, a tear rolling down your cheek, “did you think I wouldn’t care?”

“Oh baby,” His thumb wiping your tear away, “I just didn’t want you to be worrying about me.”

“I’m always worrying about you. I love you.” You replied.

“I love you too. And I’m sorry.” He said, as he hung his head. “I won’t do that to you ever again.”

Wiping your face with your hand, you let out a breath. “Good. Now come here.”

You took his hand and lead him to the kitchen.

“I made you food for the rest of the week. You can take it to work.” You said. “And I made you food for now, it’s not the most nutritious but I know you won’t be able resist.”

You took Mark’s favorite ramen out of the microwave and showed it to him.

“I want you to eat. I know I’m not the best cook but–“

You were cut off by the feeling of Mark’s lips against yours.

“I love you so much,” he whispered.

⇒ jackson

“Y/N.”

You turned to see Jackson with his crutches in front of you in the kitchen.

“Jackson! You need to sit on the couch. The doctor said you have to keep your foot elevated.” You scolded, turning the stove off.

“I know, I know, but I feel lonely all by myself on the couch.” He said shyly. “I want to be with you,”

“Well, couldn’t you have waited 5 more minutes?” You said.

You walked towards him, taking his arm over your shoulder and helping him sit back down on the couch. You walked back to the kitchen to bring his crutches.

Recovery for his broken leg had taken longer that expected and Jackson was at his wits’ end. You did your best to take care of him physically, but mentally he was frustrated and drained.

“I hate this!” He groaned, frustrated at his lack of mobility. “I can’t even lay down without needing help.”

Silently, you helped him move his back on the couch so he could achieve his desired position.

“Thanks Princess,” He grumbled.

“Move over,” you told him.

You squished your way onto the couch so you could cuddle him. You watched him as he frowned, looking up at the ceiling.

“I love you.” You said sweetly. You didn’t outwardly express it to Jackson very often, so you knew when he heard it he’d melt on the spot.

Silence.

“Hey!” You lightly whacked his chest, looking up at him frowning.

“Ow! I just broke my leg woman, are you trying to break a rib too?” He exclaimed.

“You didn’t say it back!” You whined.

He looked at you blankly.

Shocked, you turned on your side to leave. “I can’t believe you, I’m goin–“

That’s when Jackson trapped you in his arms, laughing into your neck.

“Let me go.” You said, annoyed that he didn’t say it back to you.

“No.” Jackson held you harder.

“Jackson!” You replied agitated.

“I love you too.” He said, breathing into your neck. “Kiss me?”

Turning around you stuck your tongue out at him before slipping away and leaving the couch. “You’ll have to catch me first.”

Shocked, he struggled to sit up, “That’s just cold.”

⇒ jinyoung

“Jinyoung are you okay?” You asked, concerned he was still in bed. “Don’t you have work?”

“I asked if I could come in late today,” he explained, “come lie down with me sweetheart.”

“You’re feeling awfully snuggly today,” you remarked.

Shrugging, he patted the empty space on the bed next to him. You climbed in and snuggled into his chest. But when you put your head over his heart you noticed it was beating quite fast.

“Woah, your heart is beating so fast.” You sat up from your spot. You placed a hand over his heart, his hoodie obstructing the movement.

“You have that effect on me,” he smiled cheekily. His fingers softly trailed up and down your arm. As he watched you, you noticed he looked frail, his eyes weren’t crinkling like they usually did when he smiled like that.

“No this is different,” you frowned. Trying to get a better feel of his heart you moved your hand under his hoodie. “Yeah, it’s definitely fast. Do you feel okay?”

“I feel fine.” He tried to convince you, “don’t worry about me.”

Raising an eyebrow, you moved your hand to his forehead, “You’re warm. I’ll call JB and let him know you’re sick.”

“Y/N–“

“No, you’re not going in today.” You said sternly, getting out of bed you headed to the kitchen, “I’ll start making you some soup.”

A little while later you came back into your bedroom to find Jinyoung napping. You set the tray of soup down on his bedside table. Placing a kiss on his forehead, you slowly moved his shoulder to wake him up.

“I want you to eat something. Just have some soup and then you can go back to sleep.” You said softly.

Slowly, he sat up in bed as you moved the tray in front of him. With his hood still over his head, you fed him some soup. As he swallowed you waited for his reaction.

“Is it any good?” You asked.

“It’s perfect.” He replied. “Thank you Y/N.”

He leaned forward to tuck some stray hair behind your ear. His hand lingered on your cheek, “I love you. So much.”

Smiling, you left the spoon in his bowl for him to finish. “I love you too. Now hurry up and get better so I can kiss you.”

As he watched you leave, Jinyoung felt lucky. Not that he was sick, but that someone loved him so much to know when he was feeling under the weather, even when he wouldn’t admit it to himself.

⇒ youngjae

Youngjae was spiraling. That was the simplest way to put it.

“I can’t get the steps right. I’m in a senior group and I can’t get the steps right, I don’t deserve to be here. JYP has been wanting to kick me out for a while, I can feel it. And now he’s got the perfect opportunity to do it because I suck at the dance for this concept. I’ve let everyone down, the team, our managers, our fans, even you! I’m worthless absolute tr–“

“Darling? Just take a breath.” You tried to calm him down.

“In and Out.” You instructed him. “Just stop talking and breathe with me.”

Slowly he stopped talking and just focused on breathing with you.

“Good. This spiral is not you. It’s just your anxiety. You are talented and capable and worthy..” You said, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Youngjae took a deep breath in, “you’re right.”

“Okay, now you’re going to back into the studio and you’re going to work with the choreographer and Yugyeom until you’re perfect. And don’t worry. You have time.” You said slowly.

“Okay, okay.” He said closing his eyes. “I’ve got this.”

“Yes you do,” you kissed his cheek, “now get in your car and get to work!”

⇒ bambam

“Can you stop doing that? It’s so annoying.” Bambam snapped at you.

In your entire relationship, Bambam was never the type to get angry, he was simply too carefree and young to be angry. So when you found him snapping at you on his day off, you knew something was up.

Wordlessly, you got up from the couch and headed to your room. When Bambam was feeling this way, most of the time it was best to give him space. Most of the time.

As you sat on your side of the bed and plugged in your headphones your heard a large crash. Quickly, you threw your phone on the bed and headed to the living room.

“Fuck.” Bambam cursed. You watched as bent down to pick up the pieces of the mug he’d dropped.

As he picked up the broken pieces of ceramic, you slipped on some shoes to avoid cutting your feet. You bent down and gently placed a hand over his.

“I got it.” You said.

Ignoring your statement, you watched as he kept picking it up, wincing at one piece.

“Oh damn.” He said holding up the finger he’d nicked.

“Let me help you.” You slowly stood up weigh him and had Bambam sit on the couch.

Leaving him there, you headed to the bathroom to get the first aid kit. Silently you came back to the living room and began sanitizing his finger before putting on a band aid.

Bambam watched you as you carefully patched up the cut.

“Thank you baby.” He said. “I’m sorry.”

Saying nothing, you leaned forward and engulfed him in a hug. He wrapped his arms around you, and you could feel something wet on your collar bone.

“I’m so sorry,” Bambam cried in your arms, “I’m so sorry. I don’t deserve you.”

Shushing him, you just let him cry. “It’s okay baby, I know you’re stressed.”

He pulled away from you and you sat on his lap. Holding his cheek you softly kissed him.

“Don’t push me away Bam.” You said, “I’m here for you.”

⇒ yugyeom

“Yugyeom this is the third time this week they’ve called you back! You’re supposed to be done with this.” You said as you watched your boyfriend gather his stuff to head back to work.

“I know but they keep having problems with my vocals. One of the producers accidentally deleted the files I recorded and now I have to go back to re-record.” He replied calmly.

“At 11 pm?!” You said, annoyed that your boyfriend was being overworked like this.

“Our comeback is scheduled for next month, if I don’t re-record this, everything will be pushed back.” He said. “I’m sorry jagi, I’ll make it up to you.”

You watched as Yugyeom headed out the door frazzled. This was so unfair.

The next night you heard Yugyeom’s phone ring at around 10 pm, as he laid sleeping in your lap you decided to see who was calling.

“Hello? Yugyeom? You need to comeback to the building, we’re trying to teach the back up dancers some of the moves and they just aren’t getting it.”

“Yugyeom is sleeping now, he can’t come.” You replied simply. You were not going to back down this time. No one worked harder than Yugyeom. There was a time and place for work and when he left the studio Yugyeom shouldn’t be required to go back in.

“Can you wake him up? It’s urgent.” The caller responded. “He needs to come here.”

That was enough to send you over the edge.

“What he needs is to rest. You guys have been calling back to work overtime for a quite a few days now, and he’s exhausted but he can’t say no. If you’re having trouble with the dance, call the choreographer.” You snapped. “If you guys call him back to work one more time after this, we’ll file a harassment case against you, got it?!”

“Understood.” The line went dead.

Looking at the phone you smiled to yourself, running a hand through his hair.

Unbeknownst to you, Yugyeom had woken up hearing you get upset on the phone. As you ran your fingers through his hair he smiled, he was so lucky to have you in his corner.

I love you Y/N, he thought to himself.

return to masterlist

[apriorisea]

BTS Imagines: When You’re Sick - Jungkook

“Stop right there.”

    You close your eyes and turn to face your manager, your argument already building on your tongue. “I’m done with most of my active patients---”     “Jennie said this is your third one.”     “She exaggerated.”     She raised an eyebrow. “So, this is...?”     You were caught. “....My second.”     “Just go home,” she sighed. “You’re off in an hour anyway and I don’t want you spreading your germs around the patients.”     This offended you just a little. “I’m being very careful! I won’t get anyone sick, I just needed some extra fluids, and the drip doesn’t get in the way of my work---”     “You look terrible,” she said bluntly. “Just go home. Have a good weekend. If you’re not feeling better by Sunday night, call me. Ok?”      “Fine,” you grumble, carefully pulling the IV from your arm. “Thanks.” You trudge to the staff room, and open your locker tiredly. You hadn’t wanted to admit it, but you really weren’t feeling great. You reach for your jacket, glancing at the calendar you’d pinned inside the door---and freeze. Oh. “Noooo,” you whine to yourself, leaning closer to inspect the date, wanting it to be wrong. It isn’t. Silently, you curse: this was your boyfriend’s one completely-free weekend this month. The only weekend you’d get to have him completely to yourself. And now, you were sick as a dog.      You shut your locker a little too aggressively, and shuffle out to your car. As soon as you’re sitting down, no longer pushing yourself to keep moving, keep working, you feel the illness settle in. This is not going to be a 24 hour thing, you think bitterly.      Even before you see his shoes lined up neatly inside the door to your apartment, you know Jungkook’s there; it was like a 6th sense you’d picked up in the last 10 months of dating him. Still, you’re overwhelmed by the happiness that surges through you when he comes bounding down the hall, his grin wide and happy, to greet you.      “Hi darling!” he says, waiting impatiently while you slide off your shoes. “You’re early!”     “Yeah,” you say, kicking your shoes out of the way. “I got sent home.”     He hears it in your voice. He reaches out to lay the back of his hand gently on your forehead and frowns. “You’re burning up. Why didn’t you come home sooner??”      “I didn’t think it would be this bad,” you admit tiredly, unzipping your coat and trying (unsuccessfully) to get out of it.      Touching you extra gingerly, he helps you out of the coat, tossing it on the couch before pulling you into his arms. “Aw baby, I’m so sorry.”     You let him hold you, feeling your frustration well up again. “No, I’m sorry,” you counter. “This is our one weekend, and I messed it up!”     “You didn’t mess anything up,” he says, kissing the side of your head. “We’re still going to spend the weekend together. Come on, let’s get you to bed. Are you hungry?”     Pulling back a little, you look up at him. “Wait---you got your flu shot this year, right?”     Brushing your hair away from your face, he nods. “Why didn’t you?”     “It was on my to-do list,” you groan, leaning forward to let him hold you again. “And I’m not really hungry right now.”     He spreads several soft kisses across the top of your head then steps back. “I think we still have some cans of ginger ale in the fridge. Do you think you can drink some of that?” When you agree, he smiles gently. “Okay, then let’s get you to bed, okay, darling? You need rest.” Before you can answer, he scoops you into his arms, carrying you easily down the hall to the bedroom.    “What on earth---?” you wonder aloud, looking around the room. It’s a disaster zone, piles of his clothes spread everywhere.      “I was organizing,” he shrugs, setting you gently on the bed. “I thought you wouldn’t be home for another hour.” He starts to pull the blanket over you, but hesitates. “Do you want to change first?”     Looking down at your dingy scrubs, you sigh: “Probably.” He hovers while you get to your feet, but you stop him from following you into the bathroom. “I’m going to wash my face and change really quick. Could you get me one of those ginger ales, please?”     “Absolutely.” He still looks worried. “Anything else?”     “Nope,” you say, trying not to groan as every movement hurt your already-aching joints. “Just that. Thanks, babyboy.”     It takes you longer than usual to change into your pajamas, and halfway through brushing your teeth you realize that this illness might be a doozy. Still, he’s waiting for you when you open the door; he jumps to his feet as soon as he sees you, coming to your side and guiding you back to the bed. When he’s finished tucking you in, he stands back and examines you with a nervous look, chewing on the inside of his cheek a little.     You smile. “I’m okay,” you reassure. “It’s just going to be a longer recovery than I hoped, I think.” You reach for the remote and turn on the TV; it automatically opens to a news station. “Wow, it’s only 5:45?” you groan, glancing at your watch to confirm. “Why am I so tired??”     “Because you’re sick,” he chides, opening the can of ginger ale with a pop. “What else do you need, love?”     “Nothing.”      He doesn’t seem comforted by that answer.      “I mean...you could keep organizing, clean up the room a little bit?” you suggest, reaching out to squeeze his hand.     He holds onto yours tightly. “Okay,” he agrees. “But if you need anything, tell me, okay?”     “I promise.”     Leaning down to kiss your forehead, he says again, “I’m really sorry you don’t feel good.”     You let your eyes close at his touch. “Thanks. I love you!”     For the next hour, you switch between drama reruns on TV and he tries his hardest to focus on cleaning up his clothes mess---but every 5 minutes, he’s back at your bedside, hovering over you anxiously, asking if you need anything, feeling your forehead, and pressing more ginger ale on you. At one point, you mention that you were kind of craving a hot soup---without hesitating, he hurries to order-in your favorite kind, then sits on the bed next to you, worrying over how long it’s taking the food to arrive. When it finally does get there, he insists on feeding you every spoonful until you can’t eat anymore.      “Jungkook,” you say calmly, reaching out to grab his hand. “I’m okay, really. Why don’t you finish putting your stuff away?”     “...Okay,” he hesitates; over the last 90 minutes, you’ve definitely gotten worse, growing more pale and your fever even hotter, and he can’t seem to make himself leave your side.      Sighing internally, you use your best card: “It would really make me feel better, you know, to have the room organized and clean.”     It works. Kissing your cheek, he gets to his feet. “Of course. Do you need more medicine first?”     “No, I’m okay,” you say, snuggling back against your pillows. “I’m actually getting a little sleepy, so I might try to nap if I can.”     He brushes your hair out of your face and leans down to kiss your cheek again. “Okay. Sleep well, darling. I’m right here if you need anything.”     Trying to hide your smile, you nod. “Thanks, babyboy. I know you are.”     You do actually manage to fall asleep, and when you wake up 30 minutes later, he’s sitting next to you again.      “Hi,” he says softly, unable to stop himself from leaning in to kiss your temple. “How are you feeling?”     Terrible. You just groan and shake your head a little.      The worry in his expression increases. He holds something up. “My mom said that a cool cloth can help bring the fever down,” he explains, placing it carefully on your forehead. “But to make sure you stay warm otherwise.”     “Your--your mom?” you ask.      “Yeah. I texted her,” he answers, stroking your face gently. “She hopes you feel better soon.”     You sigh. “Tell her thank you. And she’s right---the cool cloth is helping.” Groaning a little, you roll onto your side, trying to stretch out your sore neck muscles.      He notices immediately. “Let me get the heating pad,” he says quickly. Squeezing your hand, he adds, “I’ll be right back!” Before practically running out of the room.      You watch him, half-amused and half-gently-exasperated. You’d forgotten that he gets like this when you’re sick: all nervous energy, restless and overly helpful. There are worse things, you remind yourself, and reach for your phone.      There are several texts from your mom waiting for you.      MOM: How do you, a nurse, catch the flu? Shouldn’t you have immunity by now?     Half-smiling, you send a message back: Hey! Nurses can get sick, too. I just didn’t get the flu shot yet this year.      MOM: Rookie mistake.      Yeah, yeah. Wait, how do you know I have the flu??     Her next reply comes with several cry-laughing emojis. MOM: Your worried boyfriend has texted me over 12 times in the last hour.      What????      MOM: Yeah. It’s cute. He wants to know what he can do to help you feel better.      You sigh, glancing into the hallway; even from here you can hear the sounds of him warming up the heating pad in the microwave. Please tell him all I need is for him to chill a bit!     MOM: Nah. Like I said, it’s cute. :)      MOM:  But let me know if you need anything, ok? Love you!     Just as you put your phone down, Jungkook reappears, carrying the heating pad with him. “Where do you want it?” he asks intently.      You reach out to take it from him, sitting up slowly to wrap it around your neck. “You texted my mom, too?”     “Yes.” He’s not ashamed. “She’s going to bring by more ginger ale later---we’re nearly out.”     “Babe.” You look up at him seriously. “I’m okay, you know. I’m not, like, dying or anything. Just relax.”     He frowns. “I know you’re not dying,” he says a little defensively. “But I don’t like it when you’re sick.” Sitting on the edge of the bed next to you, he tenderly pushes your hair out of your face. “I just want you to feel better quickly.”     You melt at his soft touch and genuine concern. “I know, I know,” you say. “I appreciate you. Just...try not to worry too much, ok?”     He leans in to kiss your cheek. “I’ll try,” he promises solemnly.     And he really does try. But he can’t help hovering around you anxiously, offering you all sorts of remedies and foods and medicines, jumping at your tiniest request, completely doting on you. When bedtime comes, he snuggles you from behind, holding you close in the dark and pressing little kisses all over you: your cheek, neck, shoulders, face, hair, back, arm, anywhere just to remind you that he’s there. You drift into an uneasy sleep held safely in his embrace.

---

The next morning, the second you wake up, you realize that Day 2 was going to be much worse. Groaning, you roll over and notice that you’re alone: Jungkook was already up. You glance over at the clock: 8:08am. Ugh.     Just as you start to sit up, he appears in the doorway. “Hi darling,” he says, and though he tries to keep his voice soft, you can hear the nervous energy bubbling under the surface. “Here.” He’s carrying your favorite mug and the contents are hot enough to have tendrils of steam coming from it. He sets it down on the side table and helps you sit up. As soon as you’re settled, he leans in and presses his cheek against your forehead. “Oh, baby,” he worries. “You’re still so hot...”     “Thanks,” you joke weakly. “You’re not too bad yourself.”     He hands you the mug---which is full of tea---and then straightens. “I’m going to get more medicine and a cool cloth and the heating pad---is there anything else?” He’s already reaching for his phone. “I can’t remember what your mom said...”     Before you can catch his attention, he’s gone. You smile to yourself and let the tea warm you all the way through. It helps, but you still feel terrible. Grabbing your phone, you send your mom a text: Feeling much worse today. I take it back---please send JK *all* the tips you’ve got...     As if he heard your text out loud, he reappears, arms full with all of the things he went to find. Once you’ve taken your medicine, have a cool cloth on your forehead, a heating pad around your neck, snuggled in blankets, and settled with another cup of tea, he sits on the edge of the bed and turns on the TV. “What do you want to watch?” he asks, reaching out with his free hand to brush your hair back from your fevered forehead.      You shrug the best you can. “I don’t care.”     He hums sympathetically and settles on the first acceptable TV choice before turning back to you. Leaning down to kiss your forehead, he lingers there for a moment. “Just give the medicine time to kick in, darling,” he says encouragingly. “It’s okay.”      It’s like you can see the nerves building back up in his expression, so you smile as quickly as you can. “I know. Thanks, babyboy. I’ll be better soon.”

---

But by 2pm that afternoon, you’re still feeling terrible. You were feeling so awful that you had stopped noticing your boyfriend’s hovering; though you were still grateful for his constant vigilance. You never missed a dose of painkiller, you always had a hot drink, the cloth on your forehead was always cool...You literally wanted for nothing. It was just a shame you were feeling too terrible to really appreciate it.      After he forced you to eat a little dry toast for lunch, he’d gone to the kitchen to clear up and get another can of ginger ale. While he’s gone, you attempt to twist into a more comfortable position; after almost a full two minutes, you still can’t find a position that doesn’t stress out your already-aching muscles. And just like that, you break, every single bit of frustration boiling up in you, and your eyes fill with hot, tired tears. You’re too exhausted to even wipe them away.      “Your mom said she could bring by more ginger ale if we need it,” Jungkook says, coming back into the room with another can, “But I think we’re going to be okay. Because you’re absolutely going to be better soon, right?” He looks up at you and freezes. “Hey.” He calls your name softly, still frozen in the doorway. “Are you...are you okay??”     You nod but don’t stop crying. “I just...I just hate...” You can’t even finish your sentence, the tears and the illness overwhelming you.      Immediately, he’s at your side. Setting the soda aside, he gathers you carefully into his arms and kisses the side of your head. “I know, darling,” he says quietly, holding you tighter. “I get it. It’s okay, baby, it’s okay. I’m here.” Shifting suddenly, he maneuvers you into his lap, still wrapped in a little blanket-burrito, and rocks you back and forth, kissing the side of your head repeatedly. “It’s okay,” he repeats.      You give in immediately, snuggling into his embrace and finishing your cry pitifully. When you’re done, he still holds you fast, with no intention of letting go. Eventually you start to feel a little bit better, the combination of medicine and his comforting presence. After a long time, you softly kiss his collarbone. “I love you, Jungkook. I’m so lucky to have you.”     He squeezes you tight and turns to kiss your forehead. “I love you more. Just relax---I’ll make sure you feel better soon!”     And just like that, his nervous-energy-hovering doesn’t bother you even a little bit. You smile and cuddle against him. “I believe you.”

[hobiwonder]

What are friends for? | (m)

Pairing: Jungkook x reader x Taehyung

Genre: Crack.Smut. friends to lovers(?), pop essentially liubwnijlwkbc

Warnings: Smut. Ass eating, licking, fingering. Just a whole lot of oral (f receiving), masturbation. Mild dirty talk bc it could’ve been worse.

Words: 4k+

Summary: Taekook are your chaotic best friends and ask if they can try eating ass with you.

a/n: lmao yes i had a dream about this??? go figure. I just wrote this in a few hours so it’s probs not as good as my other smut but ofc, a light wank is never bad once in a while. let me know what u think!!

(eirbuirbnuir they’re so hot omfg)

“What the fuck did you guys want?” You’re almost gritting out between clenched teeth as you slam the door shut. Your chest is heaving, lungs trying to clasp in air as fast as they can because of the sprint you did to Taehyung and Jungkook’s apartment after their text that read “SOS” “EMERGENCY” from Jungkook and Taehyung respectively. You’d been stupid enough to set up this way of emergent communication when you’d all have met early in primary school. And now after more than a decade – old habits die hard. They’d sent you a text and even when your gut had told you so – you just knew– that it was for something stupid again. One time both of these imprudent fools had texted you the same words when they’d blown up their microwave by putting in tin of spaghetti in it. So to save themselves from starvation they’d texted you at around midnight. And slave to your habits you were – one text and here you were after taking a U-turn on your way back from a bad date and in a badmood.

God, how did boys even survive?

So here you were, standing in the kitchen while the two dumbasses you called – unfortunately – best friends stood in the kitchen arguing over something you didn’t care for probably, looking entirely not in an emergency. You probably were just needed to give opinions or fix something in their apartment.

“Fuck you bro! You said you were going to ask her!”

“Uh,” Tae looks horrified like he had just heard the most absurd thing – always so fucking dramatic – “I thought YOU were going to? What? Too pussy now?” His smirk earns him a face full of a couch cushion as Jungkook flings the cushion as hard as he can on to Taehyung’s face – aiming right on target as always.

“At least I know what a pussy looks like you dickhead.”

“What the fuck?” Taehyung is yelling in defence and you can’t believe your poor ears have to witness this exchange. “I’ve not only seen but actually ate it too you butthole!”

Jungkook snort, “Very mature.”

“Shut up!” It’s not your turn to scream and finally the two oblivious boys are looking over at you. You swear the look of surprise on their face seems like they’ve just noticed you. They might as well had been robbed and wouldn’t know past their own ridiculous arguments over who’s had the most sexual exploits. Stupid boys.

Ugh you hated them.

“Neither of you are mature you numbnuts.” Their eyes are scanning you from top to bottom – no shame like always. Taking in your short little red dress and the heels you’d bought especially to go to this stupid orchestra with your boring ass trust fund date. God, rich people had so much money and yet they spent it like that? Who takes someone on a first date to the Opera? You had sat there just listening to the singer while your date had been so immersed you might as well had come alone. The dress had shown your figure perfectly and highlighted the areas of your body that needed to stand out, perfectly. Your legs looked amazing because of the heels and longer than they were. You’d looked good. Even you could say it. But of course. Why would the night continue off like that? It had to be ruined by a boy and then ruined further by more boys. In conclusion to this essay: boys were the problem!

Ugh, you needed to get laid.

“So what’s the emergency? Why did I have to drive here? Hm?” You sounded like an interrogating mother and they looked as confused as the children of said mother would probably look.

“You look mad.”

“And hot.” Jungkook adds and you just want to slap him. But you can’t help the tiny flutter in your belly at his blatant staring. Though Taehyung just glares at the younger boy to be quiet when they see that you look more mad than usual. Yes, they pissed you off often.

“Because I am.” You continue to glare at them both, heels clicking as you walk forward, dumping your clutch on the kitchen counter and letting your hair out from the tight bun it was in. “So? The fuck you two want now?”

“Uhh, Taehyung was about to ask you.”

“Wait dude, what the fuck? You ask!”

“We agreed that you’d-” Your hands go up in your hair t fluff it out before clutching it tight to give a frustrated pull before you slam your hands on the kitchen counter, aking them both look at you again.

“Just get to it. Hyungwon was one of the most boring dates ever and whatever you two have to ask cant be worse than that.”

“Uh..w-what if it is?” Jungkook gives a little shrug, nonchalantly and your eyebrows furrow. The two of them rarely ever hesitated in making requests from you. How bad was this going to be?

“Then no.” You pick up your clutch, ready to leave when both of their hands grab each of your arms, rushing forward to stop you from leaving.

“Wait! You may even like it!”

“Yeah y/n maybe it’ll turn your night right around.” Jungkook’s eyebrows are going up and down suggestively and now you’re a little nervous and the butterflies are coming back. What was happening?

“J-Just spit it out then.” Your hands go up in the air in exasperation that they were both beating around the bush so much.

Taehyung looks at Jungkook and Jungkook returns his unsure gaze and they both seem to be having a secret conversation between themselves. Amazing how boys could communicate with any words suddenly.

“Speak!” You shout again when their telepathic communication continues. They really did share one braincell huh?

“We were wondering if you’d let us eat your ass.”

“Yeah okay.” You’re shrugging in agreement like you always did – until your brain finally registers what they’ve said. “ Wait, what?!”

They’re both looking around anywhere but at you like the ceiling is so interesting. Your face is going hot and flushing to the point that even your vision seems a bit rosy. What the fuck went through their mind to come up with this idea? You weren’t blind. You had seen your chubby little friends grow up to be chiselled and toned and tall and broad young men. You saw the countless girls they brought home and how people did double takes whenever the three of you went clubbing. But of course, that didn’t mean you had a problem with it. Sure… at some point or another you’d had a crush on them both but you were over it when they pooped literally with the door open in your house.

You all were too close for you to mess it up. Plus, you couldn’t choose between the two. You loved both of these stupid handsome boys too much to make one of them the third wheel. That’s if they even liked you. But why else would they ask this of you?

“Well you see, Jungkook here,” Taehyung’s glare shuts up Jungkook’s protest before he continues to explain, “Said he wanted to try it before he did it with any girl. And frankly, I’ve had a few girls want me to do that to them so I wanted to try it beforehand as well.” He’s shrugging casually again as if this was no big deal.

“So… let me get this straight,” your eyebrows are furrowing again but this time in annoyance once again, “You want me to be the experimental lamb before you two shitheads go off ass licking?”

They just nod. Yup. They nod like you were the one oblivious here.

“I’m going to kill you both one day. Just wait.” You’re nodding as you back up, pointing at them both before you left.

“Y/n!”

“Bro wait!” Jungkook is calling you bro like he didn’t just ask if he could eat your ass.

They’ve now sandwiched you between them both, Jungkook at your back while Taehyung blocks your access to the main door.

“Just hear us out y/n.”

“Uhhhh no thanks you twinks. I need to sleep!”

“You may like it!” You ponder for a few seconds and you know that if you tell them that you already know you like it then they will trap you here until they’ve done what they asked you here to do.

“I know I will.” Damn your loose mouth because you’ve already mumbled it out loud. And while Taehyung is looking at you confused and asking you to repeat what you said – Jungkook has shrieked in your ear that you wince and cover it.

“Hyung! She’s already tried it. Damn girl!” Ugh he was so immature. Stupid boy. Your best friend made you question your standards when it came to friends. He was lucky he was so cute and you knew that he wasn’t all just looks and muscles.

“Y/n,” Taehyung is gasping in mock shock as his hands slide down your hands to your waist, so casually rubbing at it while he leans his head down to try and catch your gaze as you nervously looks around – trying your hardest to look angry and not embarrassed for your slip up.

“You naughty girl.” He’s smiling his greasy smile and you’re done trying. You are annoyed now.

“Ugh let me go you noodles. I’m not going to be your experiment.”

“But you like it! It’s a win-win!”

“So you think you’ll like it?” You’re leaning back to look at the other, more muscly male who’s back hugging you, his breath warming the crevice in your neck.

“I think so. I love eating pussy so why not just a little further down?” He’s saying it all like he’s having a conversation about cereal and you can’t help but blush like crazy. You knew your best friends didn’t have a filter but wow. Having them this close to you, their hands on you at once was a bit… much. Or maybe you were just expecting to get laid tonight but definitely not by these two dorks.

“Very good point Jungkook. Logical thinking. I like that.”

“Why thank you good sir.” You roll your eyes as they complement each other like they weren’t fighting like 13 year olds just a few minutes ago.

“Ugh shut up. Both of you.” You sigh. Knowing that if you were dragged out here after that terrible abomination of a date – you get to be a drama queen too – might as well get something out of it, right?

“Where are we doing this?”

“Wait really?”

“Fuck yeah. I knew she’d say yes.” Jungkook says at the same time Taehyung is surprised. That little shit always thought too highly of himself. But you probably would say yes to most things they asked of you. You loved them too much. Plus they would probably die without you.

“We love you y/n! love you noona.” Jungkook is cooing in your ear, squeezing the life out of you as he tries show his appreciation by acting like the baby he is because he knows it gets to you. Meanwhile, Taehying is hugging you now as well, kissing your cheeks in little pecks, making your face – and now your body too – feel way too hot.

“S-stop. Both of you.” You try to fight off their kisses and cuddles as they walk you to the couch. “Stop acting cute when you two are literally about to be up my ass.”

“Whatever. You love it.” You just roll your eyes while Taehyung only sends you an air kiss that you pretend to gag at.

“Okay so just turn around,” Taehyung is turning you around to face the couch and it goes silent for a few 10 seconds. All that can be heard now is the three of you breathing and you realise that- - wow – this really is happening. Maybe that glass of wine was making these decisions for you. You’ll probably regret this later but right now you were high on endorphins.

“I am turned around Tae. What now?” You speak up when it’s been approximately a minute and he still hasn’t said anything else.

“Bend her over hyung,” You hear Jungkook’s throaty voice from somewhere behind Taehyung and you can hear the intake of breath from Taehyung who is directly behind you, hands on your waist. And then he slides his hands to the middle of your lower back, pushing you slightly forward until you’re bending over, resting your hands on the backrest of the couch. “Put your knees on the couch as well babe.”

Your breathing is picking up again. And even though this isn’t the first time Taehyung has referred to you with the endearment, the situation that you three are currently in is entirely different from all those previous one. But of course – you do as he says and place your knees on the couch so you can lean forward more comfortably while your derriere sticks out to the two men behind you who are definitely getting an eye full of your ass.  

A warm, large, palm is going up from the tops of your thighs to the top of your ass until they run down the same path again – kneading your ass. And of course, your mouth can’t keep quite as a tiny moan slips out at the comfortable – enjoyable sensation of your ass being essentially massaged loosens the knots in your muscles there.

“She likes it.” Jungkook whisper’s this time while taehyung stays quiet and then another hand joins, feeling your buttock on the opposite side and you can tell that this is Jungkook’s hand because it’s slightly more rushed just like how impatient Jungkook is. But overall, still incredibly relaxing. These two idiots knew what they were doing. So far at least. The massaging continues, sometimes one hand slips a little too in to the slit between your asscheeks through the dress, kneading the dimples in your back.

“We’re going to lift your dress now, noona.” You just moan a reply, head resting on your hands that are crossed in front of you on the couch. Taehyung hasn’t said a word while he silently has just caressed and felt.

You feel the cool air between your legs – and your thoroughly ruined underwear but you were past the point of caring. The dress is being slid over your back until it rests just above your waist – completely baring your underwear clad hips to their eyes while simultaneously both of them are cursing under their breath.

“You’re soaked.” It’s the first time Taehyung’s deep voice has reverberated through the room and it makes a shiver go down your spine with the way he says the words. Like he’s accusing you of a heinous crime. Then his hand is back on your ass, the cool feeling of his rings clad fingers making you flinch just slightly as his hands get even more bold.

“D-Duh. You’re playing w-with my ass.” You’re trying to sound nonchalant, like it doesn’t affect you as much as their hands actually are. You’re so horny now that you want to shout at them to hurry up already.

“Noona, you’re so gorgeous.” Jungkook’s amazed voice only puts your body at ease, knowing that they liked what they saw. It was a nice boost to your quickly diminishing confidence.

“Fuck!” The whimper is ripped from you when Taehyung had dragged the band of your underwear back and let it snap against your ass and pussy with a harsh tug. But of course it only makes you wetter.

“Look kookie, she’s dripping even more. She loves it. You love this don’t you y/n?”

You don’t respond, only bite your lip as you throw your head in your hands again – too mortified to say anything. But when Taehyung’s palm is striking against your buttock, you’re yelping and jerking forwards in to the couch, hands finding purchase on the back of the couch now.

“I asked you a question Y/n.” You had an idea of how rough Taehyung good be but never could confirm the rumours. Until now.

“Y-Yes.”

“Good. We want you to like it.” And just like that, he’s pulling away the ruined string of your thongs aside, exposing the tight ring of muscles that they both wanted to see in the first place.

“Fuck…. Look at that hyung.” Jungkook sounds like he’s leaning over now because you can feel a breath closer to your skin and it makes your breathing fasten even more.

“She’s clenching.” They’re talking to each other like you aren’t even there and it makes your skin even more feverish. Fuck why was this so hot?

“Her pussy is clenching too.” Jungkook so graciously points out and you can feel his hand on your ass sliding down. And just before it reaches its destination, he asks. “Can I touch your pussy noona?”

His voice sounds so innocent, so incongruous with his actions but what were you going to say when he spoke to you like that? Say no?

“Yeah baby. G-Go ahead.” You look behind you for the first time and finally see the way the two are positioned and it makes your blood run even hotter that you’re surprised it hasn’t burnt your skin to a crisp from the inside out. Taehyung stood directly behind you and your mind momentarily slips to another reason he may be in that position but you push that thought away when you see Jungkook on his knees, hands on your ass like it was the 8thwonder of the world, kneading and rolling it while one hand finally slipped further down to your aching pussy. His fingers are parting your sticky lips and the labia surrounding your engorged clit as he massages the wetness in even further – making obscene sounds bounce off the living room walls.

“Fuck, she’s so wet.” Taehyung hums in agreement while his own large fingers slip in between with Jungkook’s to gather your arousal as lubricant because he’s bringing them back up once he’s thoroughly coated them in it. Your moaning, whimpering and letting out small cries as Jungkook continues to massage your pussy while Taehyung is circling the tight ring of muscles with your slick arousal as well. It’s a sticky mess and you can very well hear it.

“You go first hyung. I’m hungry for this.” Your head is whipping back quickly at Jungkook’s stammering but it’s too late – he’s already dipped his head down and clasped your clit firmly in his mouth as he gently sucks.

“oh god.” A dry sob leaving your lips as the tears steadily well up in your eyes from the sheer intensity of the sensations. Especially when Taehyung is also kneeling and has now started to tongue your ass while Jungkook has a feast further down. The scene unfolding in front of you is so hot that you’re almost cumming on the spot because by god – getting head from two boys? Heaven. You know you’re absolutely ruined now. Your best friends have spoiled you.

“Ah,” A high pitched moan that would put porn stars to shame – leaves you when Taehyung stiffens the muscle of his tongue and probes your asshole with it. Repeatedly trying to jam his tongue inside you further and further in with each thrust. Jungkook is only helping the knot building up in your belly to tighten rapidly.

“Tae!” You’re crying out loud when he has grasped both of your ass cheeks, spreading them apart obscenely before flattening his tongue against the tight ring and licking and flicking at it rapidly. You knew you loved having your partners go down on you there but of course – it wasn’t exactly the most common of occurrences.

“Can I put a finger inside your ass y/n? Can I? Please?” He’s almost pleading between licks – mouth wet from his own saliva and your arousal that he keeps sampling to smear on your rear. You just vigorously nod your head and he’s placing a kiss on your cheek – oddly sweet – before he’s sliding down to your pussy where Jungkook’s face is still shoved, licking and sucking lightly – not hard enough to make you cum just yet but enough to torture you.

With one thrust, Taehyung’s finger is deep inside your pussy, thoroughly coated in your arousal while you can only whimper and hold on to the couch as he withdraws his thick, long finger to bring it up to your ass and circle the tight opening there.

“It’ll burn for a second baby.” You don’t have time to reply because he’s already pushing it in, your thoroughly wet ass sucking his finger right in.

“Fuck fuck fuck. Tae h my god. J-Jungkook.” You don’t know who’s making you suffer more. Jungkook with his mouth making out with your pussy or Taehyung’s finger that’s slowly pushing in until he’s in until it’s nestled in deep while his fat tongue licks around the intrusion. But one thing is for sure – you’re going to cum.

“I-I’m so c-close, oh god.” Tears have finally escaped your eyes as you push your ass against Taehyung’s face while Jungkook is almost laying on the floor, messily sucking at each of your pussy lips before taking in your blood swollen clit in his mouth to suck it raw. Taehyung’s finger has now started a nice pace but just when you’re about ti cum he’s withdrawn the finger and replaced your gaping entrance with the stiffened muscle of hif tongue. And then you’re coming. All over Jungkook’s face and the pleasure is so intense that your vision has gown bleary and you’re almost sure you died for a second.

“Fuck hyung, s-she squirted.” You’re too out of your mind to notice anything other than trying to steady your breathing. But you do finally glance back to see Jungkook’s wet shirt around the chest area and the shine on his lips and chin.

“You’re so hot noona oh my god.” He’s placing kisses all over your ass and you haven’t even had time to recover before they’ve already switched positions. Jungkook has wasted no time in spready apart your cheeks wide and shoving his tongue in right there in contrast to Taehyung’s more paced approach but you were too sensitive and were going to flinch either way. But when You hear Taehyung’s zipper go down – your temperature is rising again. Jungkook has now discarded his shirt as has Taehyung. Both of them were naked from the waist up while you were exposed from the waist down. Not fully but Jungkook is quickly taking off your absolutely ruined underwear and discarding it on to the building pile of clothes.

“Be gentle kook. I-I’m sensi- Fuck!”

Of course he’s doing before listening. His tongue is flat on your asshole, continuously licking up and down, faster than Taehyung and this alone is going to be enough to make you cum this time because you’re so worked up already. But of course, Taehyung can’t help but join in again as you feel his hand on your flinching pussy, rubbing your wet entrance and rubbing the nectar around your thighs, thoroughly coating you in your own mess. But you weren’t too mad about it. You liked their messiness for once.

“I love your ass noona. Isn’t it great Tae? Fuck we should’ve done this sooner.” His words are muffled as he talks between sucks and licks. Of course he would talk while he eats. Messy. Your internal laughter is dying down when Taehyung is shoving his ring covered middle finger inside your trembling pussy once again – but this time, he doesn’t pull out. He pushes it back in despite your withering form from the continuous assault on your sensitive skin.

“T-Tae-Ah- p-please. I can’t, n-no more. Oh fuck.” You’re crying and letting out small sobs, back aching from being bent over like this for so long but the pleasure is so much and so addicting it’s like you’ve been kept away from your drug when you’d never even taken it in the first place. Jungkook licks down to your perineum before coming back up to your clenching hole and fucking it with his tongue, setting an unremitting pace while Taehyung is fucking your clenching cunt with his bony fingers. And this continues over and over. You and Jungkook mostly moaning while Taehyung is grunting and growling out obscenities once in a while, jacking off his hardened length with his free hand while the other ruts in to you.

All it takes is one look behind you and seeing Taehyung’s girthy length – red, veiny and the head fattened with blood – leaking profusely while his wrist is snapping inside your pussy as well as Jungkook’s black mop of hair as his face is almost shoved entirely up your ass. That’s it. You’re gone with a shout.

“I-I’m cuming!”

“Come for us y/n. Fuck yeah. All over Jungkook’s tongue and my fingers.” Taehyung is growling, snapping his fingers inside your walls so fast and the accompanying shove of Jungkook’s tongue inside your ass is enough to have you leaking like a faucet – making the most obscene symphony of noises – better than that damn orchestra – sound the walls of the living room as you cum once again. Much less in duration but just as intense.

Taehyung’s hand has left your pussy and opted for grasp and tug at his shaft in rapid movements until he’s heaving and growling out his orgasm – cumming all over your ass.

“F-Fuck, c-can I cum over your ass too noona? P-please? Oh fuck.” Only when Jungkook has stood up that you realise he’d been just as painfully hard and had at some point started to palm himself through his jeans. And now that he slides his fist over again and again – slightly longer than Taehyung but not as thick – you can see how he’s leaking the pearly white liquid as well. And of course. You’d let him do anything to you right now.

“Go ahead baby. Cum on noona’s ass.”

“F-Fuck yeah. Oh fuck. I love you noona.” Your heart is fluttering and you’re not given a chance to dwell on his declaration further because you feel the spurts of his own orgasm dirtying up your ass, sliding between your cheeks and wetting your skin. And you honestly loved it all.

Fuck you loved them both.

You’re all breathing hard. It’s been at least a minute when you feel Taehyung’s hand rubbing in both his and Jungkook’s cum in to your ass, massaging it in your skin that you’re finally coming to your senses and realising how sore your back will be. Fucking hell. You’re about to straighten up but Taehyung is already wrapping his sticky hands around your waist and turning you around to lay you across his and Jungkook’s lap. Your eyes are closing and your body is giving in to its tired state. You’ll worry about the regrets and explanations tomorrow. Right now, you just wanted to snuggle both of your annoying friends who just made you cum twice. And they haven’t even fucked you.

Yet.

“Love you y/n.” That’s the last thing you hear before you’re dozing off.

a/n: let me know what u thought :)) i’m still working on baby baby so this is in case i dont post it early. 

[aelaer]

Whumptober 27: Alt #15 - Field Medicine

Finally filling my Wong space for the @stephenstrangebingo​ (oh hey third bingo). I've not really written from Wong's POV before, either, so this'll be fun. Card at the end.

I sort of have 2000 words of build-up before I actually get to the Whumptober prompt itself, but it is present! I just uh, well, I guess it wanted story first. So that comes first.

Warnings: Uh, by the time we get to the prompt, lots of blood and a mix of magical and mundane healing/emergency field medicine. I don't think it's graphic, but… tell me if it seems on the more graphic side? I'm a horrible judge at such things when it comes to my writing. Oh, also, big alien scarab bugs. Lots of bugs.

27. Alt #15: Field Medicine / Wong

Ever since The Situation With Thanos, Stephen Strange was on retainer with the Avengers to consult on more mystical artifacts and, on rare occasion, to help out with threats. When these threats came, the Master of the New York Sanctum was called in as last-minute backup, wherever they were in the world. His ability to be anywhere in an instant made him perfect for the job.

Wong warned him about getting too embroiled in these mundane affairs. Unfortunately, Stephen had a very stubborn streak of "if I do nothing and people die, that's my fault" embedded within him that the head librarian wasn't able to quash.

When the agreement was first made, not long after the Decimated came back into being, Wong was honestly worried that they would use him as an easy solution for every terrorist group, every new so-called supervillain, and cleanup projects that would eat up all of Stephen's time. And Stephen, guilt-ridden for every life he wasn't able to save, would have done every single one without complaint.

Thankfully the Avengers weren't being complete idiots and calling him in for every so-called emergency. Since the agreement was made, he was called for two scheduled, non-emergency consultations and only one nasty invasion of something that was alien in nature and going to quickly eat everything, living or not, in the city of Houston without immediate intervention. That was fine, and Wong began to relax at the new norm of occasionally crossing paths with these so-called superheroes.

The second time Stephen was called in for an emergency, Wong was with him. They were in the library at Kamar-Taj when, in the quiet of the room, even he could hear the buzzing from a pocket on Stephen's robes.

Stephen shot him an apologetic look and left the library to take the call. When he returned, his expression was grim. "I have to cut this short, Wong. Remember Houston?"

"How could I forget?" He wasn't there, but he saw the footage. Those alien things were… unpleasant. Seemed more inter-dimensional than alien, but they were definitely from their dimension, just very, very foreign to Earth.

"Yeah, they're back, but this time in Mérida, Mexico."

Wong raised his brows. "The Avengers want you to go to Mexico?"

"The Mexican government has already called the Avengers to Mexico, but by the time they get there from New York, Mérida will be half-gone." Stephen was carefully pecking out the name 'Mérida' on Google Image Search on his phone for a reference. "Apparently they've evacuated the area of all civilians. Also, I don't know if Mexico has any enhanced people in that area, so it might just be local law enforcement and whatever people in the army they've managed to get there. Those things are vicious, so I'm going in."

"I'll go with you." Stephen looked at him in surprise, and Wong continued, "As you said, they are vicious. And someone needs to watch your back."

"The Cloak does that," Stephen retorted, but he didn't argue otherwise and, a moment later, created a portal into the heart of Mérida.

Wong had a particular fondness for movies that explored the occult and supernatural in completely inaccurate ways. One of those films was 1999's The Mummy. While its interpretation of ancient Egyptian powers was laughably wrong (oh, if only Hollywood knew), the movie was genuinely funny and enjoyable.

He realized that, as he and Stephen stepped through the portal and he saw the two-foot-long, insectoid alien creatures for the first time in person, that they reminded him very much of the fictional variety of scarabs that featured heavily within the movie. Only instead of just flesh, these things were eating concrete, trees, and… yes, that was definitely a bicycle wheel in that one's mouth. It looked like the area had been evacuated, at least.

At the smell of their fresh blood, however, a good two dozen several yards away abandoned their lifeless meals to charge right at them.

Wong immediately threw a Flames of the Faltine at the first wave of the beasts coming at them. "Please tell me your oath doesn't cover these things," he told Stephen.

"It definitely doesn't cover these things," Stephen affirmed, bringing down the Bolts of Balthakk upon another wave of them. "They lack any sort of ability to reason, and transporting them to another dimension would simply doom that dimension."

That's what he thought. He swiveled about and quickly blew away several with the Winds of Watoomb that were getting entirely too close for comfort.

A loud scream came from a building just down the street, and Wong sighed. "I thought you said they evacuated everyone."

"Clearly not!" Stephen said, his own frustration leaking through his tone. "Can you handle this for a minute?"

Wong only replied, "Yes," and there Stephen went. A minute would definitely be doable.

Two minutes later, Stephen's astral form appeared out of the ether. Wong raised his brows at him.

"So, bad news," said Stephen. "By 'evacuated everyone', it appears they meant 'evacuated everyone that wasn't within half a mile of the hatching spot because we couldn't reach those that didn't immediately run'. They just weren't able to get to some people, and it appears most left behind have barricaded themselves indoors— though who knows how long that will last."

"Not long enough," Wong said.

Stephen nodded. "Cloak's keeping my body up in the air and I'm going to scout through the buildings and get everyone remaining out."

"What about this so-called hatching spot?" he asked as he fried another wave with the Bolts of Balthakk.

"It's like a nest of some sort," he answered. "At least, there was one in Houston. They don't know the exact location here, but it'll be in this general area. Try to see where the bugs are coming from."

"All directions, currently," he retorted, and blasted another row away with the Winds, just to give himself some breathing room (and watch a handful of them splatter against corners, which was useful). "How did you kill the nest?"

Stephen grimaced. "I didn't. There was an enhanced human in Houston who could kill things with touch. I cleared the immediate area and she just touched the inside and rotted everything within it. Useful, if not completely terrifying." He looked over his shoulder. "Gotta go, Wong. Good luck."

"Mmm," he replied in turn, and Stephen disappeared.

Right. Time to find the nest. Flying, while possible, would simply expend too much energy with using magic alone, so walking it was. He called upon the Flames of Faltine again to clear his immediate radius of about ten feet, then set a Shield of the Seraphim about himself and began to walk northward, where quite a few of the alien insectoids seemed to be coming from.

Thankfully, these aliens' ability to eat through anything physical did not extend into the mystical and the shield remained intact as he pushed the aliens bugs off his path. They began to crawl around and then over the shield, attempting to dig through with little success; when they fell off, they'd just get right in the back of the very large crowd of alien bugs following him. Whenever they crowded his view too much, he'd spin in a quick circle to shake them off, then continue walking once more.

By the time Wong found the nest about ten minutes later, he had an impressive collection of ravenous aliens all about his shield. He shook them off again, then approached the nest to get a better look.

It reminded him of a termite mound, the large, bumpy stick of rock and dirt that had burst through the ground and ripped a hole through the street. It probably went rather deep, too; a quick check for life below him confirmed that.

Right. If this was going to work, he was going to have to be creative. He walked around the perimeter of the alien nest, again felt the general distance the amount of life underground went in its depth and width, and considered what spells he might use.

Wong pressed his lips together at a thought. Yes, that might work. It would take everything out of him, but he was certain he could manage it. He looked up at the alien mound and hoisted himself up on one of its lumps; better to be on top of the source for this next feat.

Ignoring the large bugs still scrambling all about his shield and gnawing unsuccessfully at it, he started beginning the movement and internal chanting needed to invoke the Seven Suns of Cinnibus, which would blast his immediate area and "all dark places" connected to the mound's entrance with burning light, ensuring that it would go through every tunnel dug through the city. Midway, he brought in the incantations necessary for the Flames of the Faltine, weaving it within the primary spell to turn the bright light into a searing heat specifically targeting these alien bugs. A bit like blasting the area with a selective microwave, if he had to explain how he cleared out the nest to some Avenger (though honestly, he was more than happy to leave all that to Stephen).

The two spells were woven together and in one swift movement, Wong dropped the shield and slammed his palm into the ground. The searing light combined with the fire-strength heat incinerated the bugs all around him and blast through the tunnels within the earth, moving at a speed faster than rushing water.

Wong held it for about five seconds before he fell to his knees, breathing heavily.

Well, he was completely out of magic. But that should have gotten everything within a mile radius around the nest, alongside every dark crevice within the tunnel system below.

He lowered himself off the mound and grimaced. Now he needed to find Stephen, because there was no way he was going to be drawing any dimensional gateways for a good twenty-four hours. Wong rubbed at the light headache starting to form at his temples, then started walking in the direction he had come from.

About ten minutes later, somewhere near where they had portalled in and near the border of the mile radius his spell managed, Wong discovered, much to his chagrin, that two of the bugs had wandered away a little bit farther than a mile from the nest. And now they were very much interested in having him as food, and he couldn't weave so much as a shield at the moment.

Wong looked around his immediate area and saw an abandoned broom outside of a half-open shop door. He grabbed it, twisted off the broom end and chucked it at one of the approaching alien bugs, then immediately used it to fend them back, giving them sharp hits across their hard shells and swinging the stick to whack them away. He could possibly eventually kill them this way, but in all honesty, he was just biding his time until Stephen came from wherever the hell he was and took care of them in a more efficient manner so they could get back to Kamar-Taj.

Rather annoying, though. There was a reason he rarely used such spells; having nothing left in reserve was hardly an ideal situation. And if Wong was going to be completely honest with himself, the spell had drained him physically as well and he could not keep this up forever.

Unfortunately, it turned out he may have overestimated his remaining physical strength and underestimated how much the spell had drained him. Wong was able to keep them away for about two minutes before misstepping on a piece of uneven, cracked roadway. He quickly corrected himself and moved to block one of the bugs jumping at him, but he just missed and it latched onto his left arm and bit through the sleeve.

Shouting in anger and pain, Wong rushed to the nearest wall and slammed the alien bug into the concrete wall even as he used the stick to keep the other one away from him. The one on his arm finally detached after five hits as its shell cracked and its head was smashed in. Wong went to reposition himself defensively against the remaining bug, but a sudden wave of dizziness hit him and he had to lean against the wall. After whacking away the insectoid again, he spared his arm a glance.

That was a lot of blood. That was too much blood.

He hit the bug again, then grimaced and tried to use the wall behind him to apply pressure. He wasn't sure how long he could keep standing, but he knew it wasn't going to be for long, not with how his head was feeling.

Another hit, and he lowered himself to one knee. Wong could not help but be a bit annoyed; out of all the things to die from, an alien bug bite was really unexpected and unfortunate.

This was very, very unfortunate.

As the alien bug charged at him again and he prepared to whack it back once more, it suddenly burst into flames. Wong fell to his other knee even as Stephen landed just behind the burnt thing.

"Wong, where are you hurt?" Stephen asked as he knelt beside him.

"Arm," he grunted, leaning back against the wall and closing his eyes. "No energy."

Stephen didn't ask any questions as he positioned himself beside his arm. The Cloak was suddenly against him, applying pressure to the bite and he felt his friend place a hand on his head and the feeling of energy course through his body. He knew this spell; he was trying to encourage the heart to slow down a little, to pump flood a little less quickly, and while he did that he was sure Stephen was looking at the damage.

"Brachial artery. No time," he said lowly, though Wong wasn't entirely sure what he meant. He then heard something plop onto the sidewalk and when he opened his eyes, he saw a medical bag, of all things.

Stephen wrenched it open and grabbed a tourniquet. "You've lost too much blood already," he said even as he wrapped it over his left arm to secure it, before he began twisting. "Mundane will work better, now."

Wong had no idea. Wong wasn't a doctor, so he was more than happy to allow the other sorcerer to take over here. But… "Where'd the bag…?" he asked, and found himself vaguely annoyed as the rest of his words slurred away. This was incredibly annoying.

"Personal pocket dimension," Stephen answered. "Less magic than a portal, which still confounds me."

"Space," he said.

"No, I know the theory and the theory makes sense, but at the same time it still doesn't make sense." He finished applying the tourniquet and pressed his lips together. "The Cloak's completely wrapped around your arm and I don't want to remove it. I'm going to levitate you into the healing wing and see you situated, then take care of anything remaining here."

Wong usually would rather not be levitated, but at the moment he was too tired to be bothered about the circumstances. He closed his eyes and felt himself being carefully lifted off the ground and positioned to recline more, and then the atmosphere completely changed to the smells and sounds that he well knew around Kamar-Taj.

Knowing he didn't need to keep his guard up any further, Wong let himself drift off.

((See, I am actually capable of beating up characters that aren’t Stephen.))

[sukunasdirtylaugh]

“If You Ever Wanna Be In Love,”-Bucky Barnes (2/?)

word count: 1.5k 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Female Doctor

Warnings: None. BUUUUUT, some angst. Some. 

Summary: l really wanted to yell at Bucky at the beginning but, can you blame him? We get some of the interactions you guys wanted but its somewhat there lol. He’s not that much of a jerk here but hopefully this makes up for it. Also, who do you think the person behind the Doctor is? Let me know what you think(:

After working under Hydra for decades, medical visits from Hydra Physicians weren’t the best. In fact, Bucky despised them. Whenever he would get injured on a mission that would mean another evaluation. That’s why he would almost never get injured during a mission. He would do whatever it took to come back in one piece and not be reevaluated by Physicians and scientists again and again. 

“So it looks like they’re keeping you here for a little over a week, bud.” Said Steve not even looking back at Buck as he read the whiteboard. The board itself was simple to read- you had the basics, patient name, date, and what the Nurse’s name was (in this case Jacqueline), what their injury was, what they needed, and what their meal plan was. 

“You can’t be serious…” trailed off Bucky in disbelief.

Steve gave his best friend an apologetic look, “Sorry pal,” he said as he sat down on a chair next to him, “I tried my best to tell them you hated these places but they did their best-”

“-And you’re telling me 10 days is their best?” asked Bucky irritated.

“Hey,” said Steve sternly almost like a mother, “at least you’re alive. The staff have done nothing wrong but to help you so don’t you think it’d be nice of you to try to be nice to them?” 

Bucky huffed, Alive. 

“Nice to me? You mean not letting me go home is considered nice?”

“You have me, Nat, Banner, and the gang.” reasoned Steve, “Besides,” he said as he moved a handful of Get Well Soon and It’s a Boy!  balloons to Bucky’s direction, “You’ve got Thor too. He actually felt bad because you took a hit for him and he got you these,” he gestured to the balloons. 

Buck raised an eyebrow cross armed. 

“He said that he wanted to get you as many balloons as he could but they had very few ‘get well soon so he went with the ‘its a boy’ balloons. Some of the staff didn’t let him add all of them because it took all of the room space in here -including the hallway- and because it looked like the balloons from ‘UP’ so, with the help of one doctor, she suggested Thor could give those balloons to the kids from down below. You know, the very sick ones. Said they’d be happy to have some color in the halls.” 

The former Winter Soldier shrugged slightly and changed the subject. A conversation later and a visit from Sam later, it was his scheduled meal time. 

“So you’re telling me, that I can’t have Jell-O?” 

The Nurse nodded, “No Jell-O. You have to eat your food,” said his Nurse (whose name was Jacqueline according to her pinned ID) as she pushed the plate of microwaved steak and mashed potato his way. Is that thing even edible? Wondered Bucky. 

Hesitantly, Bucky took a sniff and immediately gagged. The smell of burnt Tupperware burned his nostrils and regret filled his stomach.

“There’s no way I’m eating that,” he shook his head. 

“You have to.”

“Well I’m not,”

Steve jumped in, “Yes he will. Don’t worry about him. You’ve had a long 12 hour shift. How about you go home and get some rest? He’ll be fine with us.” He offered her another one of his ‘charming’ smiles and the young Nurse eagerly nodded. 

After she left, Bucky shook his head, “I’m still not eating that,” 

Steve frowned, ‘’You have to. It’s part of your meal plan. The sooner you eat, the better you’ll get better meaning the sooner you leave incase you didn’t know,”

“You mean the sooner I’ll die,” Bucky corrected him. “There’s no way people get better by eating this junk. It’s worse than what they’d give us back in our days.” 

His friend smiled at the memory. “Yeah,” he said but he was quick to pull himself back into reality, “but I’m not getting you hotdogs. Not happening,”

Bucky groaned in frustration. 

“Just...eat, okay? Look-” as soon as he started his sentence, a knock was heard on the door. 

It turned out to be you. 

“Hi Mr. Rogers. I’m Dr. (honestly add whatever you want in here lmao it’s 1am here so I might add a filler name for her) and I just wanted to check up on Mr. Barnes.”

“It’s Steve,” he said politely, ‘’And you can just call him Bucky. We’re not much for formalities but maybe you can get him to eat? I have to leave real quick because I’ve got a meeting so-” his phone rang and he answered it. 

“Hello? Yeah, it’s me. Look, I’ll be there in a sec okay? Yeah, Buck’s doin’ great. Good hands. Yup.” he mentioned if it was okay if he could leave and you smiled at him mouthing ‘go ahead’ to him. He thanked you and turned to Buck. 

“I won’t be gone for long. I might come back in an hour or during the night. I’ll let the staff know though, okay? Just eat. Please,” 

Again, you saw their interactions almost the same as a mother and a child or a brother to a younger brother kind of love and that warms your heart. 

After he left, you were alone with a now fully conscious Bucky for the first time since your last encounter. You wondered if he remembered anything from them. 

“So…” you paused, “Steve said you didn’t want to eat?”

Bucky exhaled, “I do want to eat. I’m starving’ but the food you guys give out is the worst. How can you eat this and not get sick?”

You smiled sheepishly, “Well, you’re not the first to complain. We’ve been trying to improve our cafeteria but I don’t eat the food here,” 

The man raised an eyebrow, “So what do you really eat then?”

“I just bring stuff from home,” you say, “Actually,” you look down to see your watch. It’s 7 minutes till your next lunch break. All your current patients are either sleeping or stable. “I’ve got some lunch with me today. My break is in a few minutes too so would you like some?”

Now interested, Bucky leans forward, “I don’t know, whaddya got?”

Shrugging, you answer, “I’ve got some pasta, fruit, granola, and some other things. Do you want some?”

********************

“So,” Bucky started as picked at the bowtie pasta, “you normally give your patients food?” 

You shake your head and take a sip of water. “Not really. Sometimes, I over-pack, and I might give some Nurses some snacks or even patients waiting for their families. For example, one day, I had this elderly man who had a stroke. His wife was there every step of the way and I noticed all she had was coffee. She never ate. So the next day, I pack some extra snacks and offered her some. She seemed to not want to accept but I told her I had enough to eat and I gave her some fruit and this chicken and rice plate I cooked. I’d bring her food whenever I got the chance until I saw that she’d be staying here longer. I told some of my co-workers and we all pitched in and gave her a card so she could buy whatever she wanted from the cafeteria. Of Course, the nurses also gave her snacks and things from their pot-lucks but you should have seen the look on her face. It was like letting someone eat, like, we let her eat but she couldn’t- I...it's hard to explain. It’s just that, the system shouldn’t deny anyone food or-” 

“Water?” finished Bucky. You laughed a bit exasperated. 

“Yeah. Just, things like that. Any who, how’re you feeling? Got any headaches? Nausea?” 

He shook his head, “Nope. I’m feeling better. Maybe your pasta helped,” 

“Well they do say that happiness is homemade,” 

Bucky, with a mouthful of pasta, pointed at you with his fork, “Hey that’s what my Ma used to say,” 

You raise your eyes holding back a grin, “Well, your Amnesia seems to be better. What do you remember from the accident?”

“Uhhh, I remember getting hit?”

“Try to be more specific,” you say trying not to pressure him.

“I remember Steve carrying me out. Then I remember being put on some wood? I don’t know but it was hard and the next thing I know I was talking about socks. But why? And then as I was leaving I remember something about a desert. After that, I passed out. Do you know what happened?”

“Well…” you trail off, “I’ll give you a word. If it rings a bell, let me know but it’s Jell-O. Does that ring a bell?”

You could evidently see the man in front of you furrow his brows together in thought. Maybe he did remember. 

“Yeah,” he nodded. “That was the desert!” 

You mirrored his actions, “Well, would you like some?” 

Not even a second later, the room in which you two were in was filled with a loud and somewhat-heavy thump! 

“Doctor! There you are!”

chapter 3

[letstalksymphogear]

Symphogear, EP. 5

LAST TIME ON SINGY WINGY

ANGRY GREMLIN BEAT UP GOOD BY SUICIDE MOVE SURVIVE BLUE BIRD YES. BLUE BIRD GO TO HOSPITAL FOR WATER METAPHOR WITH AFTERLIFE GIRLFRIEND. TINY BIRD SAD, BUT THEN NOT GET SAD! JACKIE CHAN TIME AFTER MUCH THINKING. WIFE WORRIED ABOUT THINGS. SOMETHING SOMETHING PUNCH GOOD NOW.

Let us continue.

Miku wakes up to see her wife has run off yet again. This is the part of the Sam Reimi’s Spiderman franchise phase where the Mary Jane (not weed) begins having a rockier relationship with Peter Parker (not slang for penis) due to lack of availability.

It’s contrived.

It’s almost impressive that she left a note and had time to draw a tiny Hibiki saying something in a bubble. Glad to see you have your priorities straight, Hibiki.

“you know she might have had a better time in the local art school that doodle aint half bad”

Hibiki is motherfucking Rocky all up in this.

She’s going to kick some ass and nobody’s getting in the way.

“YOU’RE GONNA EAT LIGHTING AND YOU’RE GONNA CRRRRRAP THUNDER TACHIBANAAAAA”

“THAT’S A DIET I CAN GET BEHIND”

I wasn’t joking when I said she’s not fucking around anymore. Did you think I was joking? I can see how you can get the impression given the first few episodes, but I really can’t emphasize the thoroughness of the ass kicking she is going to be capable of.

“MY FATHERLY ENERGIES ARE WORKING! ADOPTERS ANONYMOUS WAS WRONG AFTER ALL!”

That’s totally not ominous in the slightest.

Meanwhile, in the middle of an unnamed McMansion in the middle of who knows where...

Gratuitously spoken English is heard. To be fair, it’s actually really impressive pronunciation coming from people whose native language are systemically different to ours. Most shows would just settle for “this dude is actually speaking english but everything is said in japanese for better interpretation” but not Symphogear! No siree!

Relic business is afoot.

We have a random blonde lady shooting random Noise from the thing The Gremlin had in her hands.

She’s really trying her best with her accent. She’s also casually shooting Noise because let’s face it, would we not do the same if it were in our hands?

“i do whatever i want with my big stiff rod pal”

Also, she’s a nudist. To also be fair, if you lived in a fuckoff rich McMansion with weapons beyond your comprehension, you likely couldn’t help but walk around naked doing whatever the fuck you want.

The people she’s talking to are the Americans, which we explained before are portrayed strictly in an antagonistic light. They want some relics, and this lady clearly deals them like like some sort of glorified drug dealer.

Suffice it to say, she’s not a very nice person.

Also, the subs don’t match what they’re saying in English in the slightest.

The name of this woman... is Fine (pronounced fi-neh). And she is the main antagonist of this series.

Fucking identical.

And here is the most unpleasant scene in the entire season.

The person we’ve repeatedly alluded to as The Gremlin is called Yukine Chris. She serves Fine in whatever the hell they’re up to right now. In this case, it’s using the Nehushtan armor to run around with Solomon’s Cane to throw Noise around the city.

“shits gonna get real abusive, pal”

Fine is a narcissistic sociopath. She’s manipulated Chris into servitude by believing she is the only one that can pave humanity into salvation.

“i dont like that smile”

Chris thinks Fine can secure her deepest wish. Ironically? It’s world peace.

“yeah! yeah yeah, world peace, yeah, totally. just treat me like jesus and we’re gucci”

Anyway, she proceeds to thoroughly shock Chris.

The lore behind this is that this is helping her resistance with dealing with the physical demands of the Nehushtan armor, as well as deal with the pieces of Nehushtan that may be still inside. Let’s be real, though. Fine’s a sadist, and just likes hurting people willy nilly.

“fuck... that hurt like shit... hey wait... wouldnt some of the electrical arcs hit you and shock you too, given you’re so naked and close to all this...?”

“ya nevermind that food looks real nice and i want a piece of that fuckin turkey”

It’s a real creepy scene, and it cements Fine’s horribleness really well. One of the most pivotal things to take note is that Fine says that people can only communicate with each other universally through pain. Strong, terrible BDSM overtones notwithstanding, this will be a common (though varying in quality) motif of the entire series.

“BITCH YOU THOUGHT WE WAS GUNNA EAT AFTER THAT FUCKIN’ WISECRACK ABOUT GETTING SHOCKED LIKE YOU’RE EVEN FUCKIN’ NIKOLAI TESLA ALL UP IN HERE WE’RE GONNA ELECTRIC SLIDE YOUR ASS TO NEXT WEEK”

“FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK”

“WHERE THE FUUUUUUUCK IS HIBIKI?!”

“i was gonna invite her to the circus with the rest of the class ‘cause i felt bad about how i treated her but i guess she’s not here”

“the only clown im interested in is hibiki, in the carnival tent of my own bedroom”

“isn’t being a part of /fit/ great, hibiki? can you just feel the gains?”

“yeah who needs doting wife based significant others when you have your gym bros, right newly acquired father figure?”

Hibiki, having acquired a new brain cell during her training, asks the million dollar question:

“Why the fuck are we relying on schoolgirls to deal with all this stuff?”

“anime just be that way, hibiki. i’m just the wrong protagonist in the wrong show.”

Japan is super big on keeping the Symphogear a secret because they are strong and the world really, really wants a slice of the Symphogear pie. These people are basically walking super-weapons. Tsubasa literally dropped a sword the size of a skyscraper. It’s like the premise of the series of Iron Man films.

“do i get like a superhero name too or”

Something to wrap your head around. This was released around 2012, and while the setting seems to be slightly more futuristic, the world it was made in at the time had not been through the era of social media/smartphones we have right now. It was on the cusp of doing so, which means the idea of decent (yet vertical) amateur footage of things happening wasn’t something in the mainstream yet. Why do I say this?

Because in Symphogear, the fact that Symphogear exist is the biggest open secret in this unidentified city ever. NDAs are passed like hotcakes to keep people’s mouths shut on seeing monster-fighting singing superheroes. And they sing, too! Symphogears as an entity are the most high-profile fighting agents out there. Bright colors, no masks, constant singing, fighting in broad daylight in populated areas. Everybody knows, but no one says a word.

Which means every politician on the face of Japan hates these idiots, but they’re stuck with them out of sheer necessity.

“i swear to god if you bring up sam reimi’s spiderman one more goddamned time”

“look it’s the truth, all anime comes back to sam reimi’s spiderman. fate zero did it. uhhh, fucking...baccano, probably? now us. face it. its pretty much the bible.”

It’s also pointed out that the very concept of a Symphogear is born from a science that didn’t exist, and it probably contributes to political frustration as well.

“im going to microwave all your sam reimi spiderman dvds. im gonna do it. you try me, motherfucker. i didnt go into acting and get into this position to hear lectures about a decades old film franchise nobody cares about anymore.”

“can we stop fighting about the validity of sam reimi’s spiderman for five seconds and get back to helping me thing of a dope as hell superhero name? now, lemme lay one on you: Mister Fister”

Hibiki asks where Code Ryoko is.

“any answer besides Not Here works”

“oh, she left to talk to the americans, why?”

“huh, shes sorta late, actually”

“WHY A BAD BITCH LIKE ME GOTTA GET STUCK IN TRAFFIC LIKE THIS”

In the mother of all Mom Vans, no less.

MEANWHILE... IN METAPHOR LIMBO...

Tsubasa has reached the sea floor of the water metaphor dimension surrounded by water, which is her feelings, which are very gay. Imagine the Mariana Trench but like, deeper. Way deeper. That’s where Tsubasa is.

Leave it to Kazanari “I am literally a sword” Tsubasa to successfully spin the very act of surviving a suicidal move during combat as a failure. That’s a special kind of self loathing right there.

“the sheer force of my love for big ladies is keeping me alive”

Tsubasa asks about the point of Kanade’s sacrifice. Why’d she do it? Why was she so hungry at the end?

She personally shows up to answer that question, because that’s Kanade for you.

“being badass is cool, but you know whats cooler? caring.”

“sharing the sauce... you... you shared the sauce...”

“thats right, tsubasa. i wanted to protect the sauce, but... ultimately... sharing it was better. it wasn’t my sauce, tsubasa. it was everyone’s...”

“im gonna suck on a ketchup packet in your memory, tsubasa”

Kanade’s spirit pulls her out of the dimension of water metaphors as she is slowly undrowning from her emotions.

Tsubasa, like Kanade, was lost in the sauce. But now, after Kanade’s touching peptalk, Tsubasa is lost no longer.

“will i ever see you again in my dreams, kanade...?”

“where there’s a sauce. i’ll be there.”

“ill eat taco bell every day just to see you again kanade”

“and i dont even like taco bell... im more of a chipotle girl...”

After accepting Taco Bell as her lord and savior, she is immediately pulled out of the metaphor zone.

And wakes the fuck up.

“b..... b..... b............”

“Baja Blast....”

[niveunwhite]

tddk valentine/white day exchange 2019: (for ray)

for @tododekuvalentine and @tzubakis !! happy tododeku valentines day friendo

title: i think i love you

summary: In a so-called exercise of teambuilding and marketability awareness, the UA teachers had decided to arrange a secret Valentine exchange between the students.

Midoriya Izuku

Todoroki stared down at the piece of paper impassively.

“And remember! Valentine’s Day is next week, so get those cards and candies ready fast-- let me hear you kids say ‘YEAH’!” Present Mic’s words fell on deaf ears as 1-A went about whispering to each other about the names that had been distributed to them.

In a so-called exercise of teambuilding and marketability awareness, the UA teachers had decided to arrange a secret Valentine exchange between the students.

Aizawa shuffled to the front of the group of staff, ignoring Present Mic’s radio energy, “Even though they’re called ‘valentines’, your gifts should not necessarily be romantic. The purpose of this exchange is to establish an appreciation for your peers. You’re likely to be working together for a long time, so take note of and acknowledge the positive traits in each other.”

Todoroki looked over to see Midoriya muttering to himself, deep in thought. Midoriya’s positive traits… Considering the possibilities, Todoroki should have been relieved to have picked him; there should be no shortage of compliments to give such a positive and overall inspiring individual. So why do I feel so tense…?

“You’ve all been working nonstop for the past few months, so this should be a nice change of pace. There’s only fifteen minutes of class left, so just go ahead and get started on this, I guess.” As Aizawa zipped himself in his sleeping bag cocoon for the day, and the rest of the teachers filled out of the classroom, the students quieted down, seeming to take the assignment very seriously.

To Todoroki’s left, Yaoyorozu was writing hesitantly, often sighing to herself. In front of her, Mineta was slumped over on his desk, sniffling. I suppose he didn’t get one of the girls. Todoroki took a moment to give a small prayer of thanks before directing his gaze further forward to see:

Midoriya Izuku. He was leaning over his notebook, writing furiously, right foot tapping. Ever so often, he’d tangle his other hand in his hair, and Todoroki took the opportunity to study the particular shade of green it was. Emerald? No. Brunswick? Not quite… Pure phthalo green. Like it was just painted on. He wondered what it would feel like to run his hands through it.

Then Midoriya began to shift as if to look over his shoulder and Todoroki snapped out of his reverie. Quickly looking down at his own blank notebook, Todoroki felt a familiar burning sensation crawling up to his face. Don’t write about his hair, Todoroki made a mental note to himself as he picked up his pencil.

Class ended, as it tends to do, and when evening came, Todoroki found himself in his room, still staring at the same empty piece of paper. Frustrated and confused, he decided to head to the dorm kitchen for hot chocolate. Perhaps he’d run into someone who knew what they were doing along the way.

When he entered the common room, Todoroki saw, in one cluster, Ashido, sprawled upside-down on a couch next to Kaminari and Hagakure, while Iida, Uraraka, and Midoriya sat in another on the opposite side of the room. Midoriya looked up as he walked in, smiled, and waved. Todoroki attempted a smile back but it may have come out looking like a grimace, considering how desperately his heart suddenly seemed to be attempting to jump out of his chest. This is probably not normal.

“Sooo, does anyone know what we’re supposed to actually be doing for this secret Valentine thing?” Hagakure’s voice drew his attention back to her group.

“Yeah, they didn’t really give us a whole lot of instructions,” Kaminari agreed, “What’s up with that?”

“As many things will be when we are Pro Heros,” Iida cut into the conversation from the other side of the room, “This assignment is up to our interpretation and discretion. It is yet another test of our initiative and resourcefulness.”

Ashido pouted at this response. “Boo, it sounds less fun when you put it that way.”

Todoroki debated asking for more specific advice, but he wasn’t sure how to do so without sounding foolish. Hot chocolate will make this better, he thought to himself… Probably. As he headed further to the kitchen, Todoroki heard Ashido call his name.

“Todoroki! Who do you have for the exchange? You could probably do something super duper fancy and romantic, huh?”

“Uh.” He responded eloquently.

“Don’t push him!” Uraraka scolded, as Iida simultaneously cried out a reminder of the platonic nature of the exchange.

Then the microwave timer went off and suddenly Midoriya was standing by his side, retrieving a steaming bowl of katsudon. Todoroki stared at Midoriya’s hands as the boy hummed to himself, pouring a sweet-smelling sauce over his food and smiling all the while. They were warped and scarred, but steady and soft-looking? That can’t be right.

“Would you like to come sit with us, Todoroki?”

Todoroki startled, meeting Midoriya’s eyes. “I’m--” he waved his hand towards the empty mug he had retrieved from the cabinets, “... Hot chocolate. Sure.”

Midoriya gave a nervous laugh, scratching lightly at his face with his utterly captivating hands and Todoroki is vaguely aware that Midoriya is saying something, and he’s trying to pull himself back to reality, but he’s a little preoccupied at the moment and--

“T-T-Todoroki? What are you doing?”

Ah, yes. Midoriya’s hand is comfortably soft, despite all the scar tissue. Now what can Todoroki do to explain why he’s holding it between both of his own hands?

“Boom.” A small plume of fire puffed out from Todoroki’s palm, held in such a way that it almost looked like it was coming from Midoriya’s, “You’re Bakugou.”

There was a stretch of silence.

“WHAT?” A sudden wave of laughter came from the common room, “Todoroki, what was that?!”

Turning to look, Todoroki saw his classmates in various states of disarray. Ashido and Kaminari had ended up on the floor, while Hagakure flailed about from her seat, all in fits of uncontrollable laughter. From their own corner, Uraraka looked on with a mixture of concern and barely-concealed mirth, while Iida appeared to be going through every stage of grief simultaneously.

But back to the matter at hand. Todoroki glanced back to Midoriya, who bared an uncanny resemblance to a tomato at the current moment. In the back of his mind, he vaguely registered the smell of something burning.

“I think… I might go back to my room, actually. I have a bit of work I need to do,” Todoroki muttered. Hot chocolate be damned.

“Oh! That’s totally okay,” Midoriya stammered out, “But, um. You’re kind of. On fire a little bit.”

The shrieking in the common room was revitalised as Todoroki quickly extinguished his hair, absolutely mortified. That hadn’t happened since the time Fuyumi caught him running through the living room, pretending to be All Might’s sidekick when he was five. And that now seemed to pale in comparison.

“Thanks. I’ll… see you later.”

...

“Todoroki?”

“Yes?”

“Can I have my hands back?”

Todoroki left the common room with a speed that would have made Ingenium retire in shame. Back in his room, both hot chocolate-less and no further along with his valentine, he laid down on his futon with a silent huff. Sleeping his troubles away didn't sound too bad…

There was a sudden, timid knocking on his door. Inwardly bemoaning his existence, Todoroki pulled himself together and opened the door to find--

“Ah! Hi, Todoroki!” Uraraka beamed up at him with an angelic smile. But not quite as angelic as Midoriya-- He shook his head to clear his thoughts.

Undeterred by his silence, Uraraka continued on, “So I couldn't help but notice that you seem kind of unsure about your valentine.”

“Well, I don't really know what to say…”

“Mmhm.” Uraraka studied his face with bright eyes. “Do you have Deku?”

Todoroki took a bit of pride in preventing himself from combusting again. He nodded curtly.

“Oohh, I see…” Uraraka had a somewhat unnerving look on her face… Mischievous? Knowing? What could she know? “Is it alright if I come inside?”

Once reseated on the futon, with Uraraka reclining in his swivelling desk chair, Todoroki felt himself beginning to sweat.

“So, Todoroki,” Uraraka clasped her hands together in a very business-like manner, “What are your intentions with Deku?”

He blinked. “To… surpass him as a hero?”

Uraraka stared at him. “Okay, but maybe, like, more personally?”

Twice. “To give him a good Valentine?”

“Okay, and you want to do that because…?”

And again. “Because… That’s the assignment?”

“Oh, my God, you’re even worse than I was! Where’s your fighting spirit?!” Uraraka slammed her hands down on the chair armrests, “ Listen, Todoroki. I’ve been where you are. Deku would never let anything come between him and his friends. Now’s your opportunity! You have nothing to lose but your chains!”

The confusion in the air had a somewhat salty taste.

“Are we talking about the same thing?”

Todoroki felt his skin crawl as Uraraka once again stared through him.

“You like him,” she stated, matter-of-factly.

“I… Like him.”

“Yes.”

Todoroki contemplated this for a minute. Oh. Oh no.  

“You’d do anything for him, wouldn’t you?”

His head seemed to nod on its own.

“And you have so many things to say that you can’t even begin to write anything down?”

He looked towards his noticeably blank notebook and nodded.

Uraraka hummed, satisfied. “Sounds like love to me.”

Hm. That surely sounded interesting, but Todoroki was unfortunately too busy experiencing a total emotional reboot to respond.

Uraraka stood up. “I’ll leave you to think about it. But really, you’ll feel a lot better once you get it out there. I’ll see you later!”

Todoroki remained firmly planted on his futon as Uraraka let herself out.

Sounds like love to me. The words rattled around in his head like the world’s most confused baby angel. Is this what love is? Not being able to look at one of your best and only friends in the face without spontaneously combusting? When did this start? How do you make it go away? What would Midoriya do?

Memories of Midoriya murmuring to himself while furiously writing flooded his mind. Smiling, hard-working, genuine, beautiful Midoriya. Todoroki could feel his heart melting. Midoriya would never do anything to hurt him. Maybe Uraraka was right. Maybe he should be straightforward.  

With a new sense of resolve, Todoroki picked up his pen. He was ready for the class Valentine's exchange.

I think I love you.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #205

forget picking song lyrics, i’m going the hell to bed now.

Do you live by yourself? I live with my mom. Do you like cleaning? Does anyone???? Who is your favorite character from Harry Potter? I've never watched the series; not even a single movie, actually. So I don't have an opinion. Do you watch PewDiePie? Extremely rarely. He's funny, but I'm not interested in his channel's content anymore. Do you like "Despacito?" My sister showed it to me once when she learned I'd never heard it, and I found zero appeal in it whatsoever. Do you play Pokemon Go? It's a brilliant idea, and I really do wish I could play it, but here where I live, there are like ZERO PokeStops (where you get Pokeballs), even in cities, so it's pretty much impossible. Did you ever color your hair pink? No. Do you like Dr. Phil? I don't watch the show and don't know him as a person. Do you prefer to be inside or outside? Inside. Do you eat meat? Sadly. I'm HOPEFULLY quitting when I get to the weight I want; I wasn't getting the nutrients I needed when I was vegetarian to where my body was desperately clinging to what it had or something like that (basically, my weight wouldn't budge in a couple of months), but even still, I don't know if I could do it without depriving myself again. I'm just such a picky eater. Do you need to do the dishes? Yeah. Not desperately, but. Are you scared of clowns? No. Do you have any subscribers on YouTube? *checks* A very impressive 66. Do you believe in ghosts? Yes. Do you salt your popcorn? Yes. Do you like McDonald's? Don't even lie to me, you'll eat there. I don't mind it at all. Do you have a Steam account? Yes. Do you like gaming? Not as much as I used to, but yes. Have you ever played Five Nights at Freddy’s? No. I don't consider jumpscares to be genuinely "scary," but rather a natural reaction to surprise, but FNAF's are intense, and I know they'd have me jumping like crazy. That aside, the games aren't of my personal appeal to actually play (though it's a fun game to watch). Do you like horror movies? Yes. Do you like chicken nuggets? I love me my chicken nuggies hunty. Have you ever tried Akinator? Yes. Can you twerk? I don't know and don't care to. Do you like dabbing? It looks stupid to me. The meme of it makes me laugh, though. What was the last country you visited? I've never left the country. Do you know your phone number? No, actually. It is incredibly difficult for me to memorize sequences, and besides, it's not like I give out my number almost ever. Do you swear in front of children? No. What’s your opinion on Brexit? Shit, I don't even remember what it's about. So obviously I can't have an opinion. It doesn't affect me, anyway. If you want children, what are some of your reasons for wanting them? N/A When you cook a dish that has beans in it, do you prefer to use canned or dry beans? I don't cook, and you'll never see me willingly eat a bean. What were some fun experiments you did in science class as a kid? The two that sharply stand out to me are dissecting an owl pellet in elementary and a frog in middle school. Both were SO cool. What was the last strong emotion you felt? Excitement. After finishing a bowl of cereal, do you drink the leftover milk? Only ever if it's Cinnamon Toast Crunch that I ate. And even then, only sometimes. Do you use dry shampoo between washes? No. What’s the scariest thing you’ve ever done? Overdosing. What’s the most severe allergic reaction you’ve ever had to something? Nothing severe, besides pollen allergies flaring up. What’s your favorite sub-genre of rock? Hard. Who was the last person to get frustrated with you, and why? Mom, but she was more than frustrated. We were having a serious fight about her attitude towards Dad and his wife. What’s something that makes absolutely zero sense to you? Anti-vax shitlords. What’s your phone background? Lock screen is Darkiplier, home screen is Sara kissing my forehead. :'> Have you ever lived with someone you didn’t get along with? No. Do you have a fitness tracker? No. What types of animals have you had as pets? A billion cats, dogs, snakes, lizards, rats, gerbils, guinea pigs, rabbits, fish, box turtles, hermit crabs... and probably more. How well do you understand economics? Have you ever taken an econ class? Not well at ALL. I had one my senior year. What was the last fruit you ate? I had two bites out of a watermelon 'cuz I was really hungry, but we didn't really have anything as a snack. (I fast daily, so I have to watch when my meals are.) I'm not a big watermelon fan, but I hadn't tried these cubes before, and at least it was something. Can you remember your first day of school? I believe I can very faintly... very faintly. I think I had a complete breakdown because of my insane separation anxiety regarding my mom, or it was the complete opposite... alskdfjaweiajr it's like I can kinda see it in the back of my head, but it's super blurry. What’s your favorite movie? The Lion King. It was my favorite as a kid and became so again as an adult just truly acknowledging how damn good and meaningful it is. Plus the soundtrack was a banger. Would you rather jump out of an airplane or go scuba diving? Scuba diving. Do you get bored looking at other peoples’ holiday pictures? Eh. If it's a whole lot, yes, but as a photographer, I enjoy noting which ones I like and why I favor them. Do you give money to charity? Not currently, no. I have no money to give. When I do have a paying job, I plan on definitely donating any time Mark does a charity stream. Are you more into music or movies? Music, easily. When was the last time you went to a swimming pool? WOW. It's been years. Either when I still lived in the apartment or once at Colleen's in-laws', I can't remember which was last. Would you rather have a pet snake or a pet turtle? I have a snake, and I'll take another for sure. Have you ever seen a band live? Who was the last you saw? Just Alice Cooper. Ma and I are seeing Ozzy next year (if the poor man ain't dead), tho!!!! And he's gonna be with Judas Priest and Megadeth. We are NOT going to survive. Do people who use massive amounts of emoticons annoy you? Yes. Emojis, more specifically. If you're writing a sentence and you use an emoji after each and every goddamn word, it drives me up a wall. What was the last clothing item you bought? Underwear, I believe? Or a bra? What does your washing powder smell like? Idk. Normal? Do you have a dishwasher or do you do dishes by hand? By hand, which I cannot explain how much I loathe. It feels disgusting. Are there any cobwebs in your room? I don't believe so, no. Have you ever used a pick-up line and had it work? Ew, I'd never use one to begin with. Have you ever entered a modelling competition? Would you? No to both. The current modelling industry is so, so harmful. Did you keep any drawings/stories from when you were younger? Like around two years ago, I remember going on a mass destruction episode of those super old things, as they embarrassed me horribly, even though I know it had no real reason. Just everything I create embarrasses me. My mom has old school stuff, though. Who did you last have an argument with? Mom today. When was the last time you cooked for yourself? If you include putting things in the microwave with few steps... not that long ago. Maybe two days back. Do you have a safe? Mom does. When was the last time you saw a relative? Mooonths ago when Grammy and her husband were driving through. My brother and his son are visiting real soon, though!! Do you shout out the answers at quiz shows? Yes, lol. Have you ever been in a TV audience? I've been to like three-four hockey games, so yeah. Have you ever entered the lottery? Won anything? No. Well, Mom or Dad would rarely get those scratch-off tickets at random, but the most we've ever got was just like five bucks or so. Do you prefer crosswords or word searches? Word searches. Have you ever drawn on a wall in your house? No. Do you like making collages? No. Have you ever kept a scrapbook? Yeah. What’s your favorite video-game? Silent Hill 2 and Shadow of the Colossus. Sigh, I want a PS4 SO bad to get the SotC remaster. I actually teared up when I saw the opening cutscene for the first time, and I just marveled through the EEEEEEENNNNtire playthrough I watched. It's unbelievable. Do you remember any inside jokes from childhood? Not off the top of my head. I'm tired, don't make me think. Have you ever made up a word? Well, as a writer, I've made up names and places. A word itself, I don't think so. Do you get nervous speaking to people you don’t know on the phone? VERY!!!!!!!! Are you scared of anything irrational? You mean like, half my fears? Do you have a passport? What’s the picture like? No. Have you ever had a full fringe? (bangs) As a kid I did. Is there anything you would never admit to liking? Don't think so. What’s the weirdest craze you can remember? Fidget spinners. Do you use bug spray or fly swatters? Fly swatters. Then we also have this hanging cylindrical sticky... thing that flies and gnats are apparently attracted to with the smell, I guess. Works like magic, though I agree it's pretty cruel. Just stuck there until you die. Are you a clumsy person? Boy, am I. Do you have tiled floors in your house? In three rooms. Do you listen to any movie soundtracks regularly? No. Do you bruise easily? Way too easily. Like normally something simple won't leave behind an obvious one, but even a normal poke in the arm hurts a lot and leaves the spot sore for a good while. I was tested for anemia, but apparently, I don't have it. What would you love to learn to do? Play the electric guitar. Do you prefer monkeys or lemurs? Ehhh... lemurs as far as cute goes, monkeys overall. Do you watch movies based on the actors or the movie plot? The plot. Do you have any phone charms on your mobile? No. What is your opinion on sex without emotional commitment? That's a big 'ole honkin' nope. Last time you puked from drinking? Never. Have you ever gotten drunk and danced on a bar? No. What is your favorite simple ice-cream flavor? Vanilla. Though sometimes I prefer chocolate. Do you pay attention to calories on the back of packages? Only for dinner. I forgot the science behind it, but one of my meds for bipolarity only works to its full effect after ingesting at least 350 calories; I only get about a 20% effectiveness of the medicine when eating less. I know it sounds weird, but my psychiatrist is a goddamn genius, and I trust every word that comes out of his mouth. When was the last time you slept on the floor? Two years ago when I was living with Colleen and I didn't have a blow-up mattress yet. Are you currently wanting any piercings or tattoos? When???????????????? do I?????????????? not???????????????????????????????????? Do you wear flip-flops? That's pretty much all I wear just about year-round... I remember in 7th grade, one of my teachers asked me about it a lot and I just told her I didn't mind the cold, which was true. Pretty sure she thought I was lying and was too poor to buy new clothes or something, as she gifted me socks one day, which I thought was incredibly sweet. I miss my 7th grade teachers. Best school year. Who was the last person to kiss you on the cheek? Pretty sure my niece Aubree when saying bye. What is your favorite sauce to eat with spaghetti? Normal Prego sauce, I think. Have you ever seen a magic show? A little one as a kid. When was the last time you vomited and why? Months and months ago when I was testing a medication. Quit that shit real fast, as it made me sick so many times. Where do you usually sit when you eat dinner? Uhhh I eat in my bed usually, lmao. We almost never sit at the table. I normally do if Mom's there, though. How often do you get headaches? Ugh, often. Why did you call the last person you called? I was calling back about my job application that I was supposed to hear about yesterday. How many windows are in the room you’re in? Two. Do you have Facebook friends that you’ve never actually met? Yes. When was the last time you had your photo taken professionally? Not since senior pictures, pretty sure. I hated how it came out. I have a lazy eye when I smile, gah. How long does it take you to get to school or work? Currently N/A. Let’s say you had a baby with the last person you kissed? We're both female, so. And neither of us want kids anyway. When was the last time you completely broke down? A couple weeks ago in a totally random and severe panic attack. Do you have someone you can spill your heart out to? Yeah. Is there a person that you would do absolutely anything and everything for? No. I'm not gonna, say, murder someone just because they want me to. What’s something you really want right now? To go and get my tattoo cleaned up by a more professional artist alsdkjfalwei. I got the approximate cost, I just have to wait until I can afford it. This tattoo is so so so important to me and it needs to be perfect. What is your relationship status? Taken. What was the longest time you’ve wasted on a certain person? Not even two weeks lmao. I said yes to dating mostly out of fear of hurting his feelings, and he QUICKLY proved he was NOT for me. Are you listening to music right now? Yeah, my iTunes is on shuffle. Anyone you would like to get things straight with? I wouldn't want to be friends I don't think, but I REALLY want to see Jason one final time to tell him how sorry I am. I recently acknowledged just how fucked up I treated him after the breakup; he wasn't the only one who made mistakes. I sure as hell did. He deserves to hear it badly. I do believe our last talk was a good ending, but I feel me finally admitting that I fucked up would be the perfect one. What was the best thing that happened to you today? Seeing Dad for his birthday. When was the last time you did something for the first time? I talk-talked to some WoW friends a couple days ago, though very very briefly. I couldn't figure Discord push-to-talk out and I ended up panicking lmao. What color are the last new pair of pants that you bought? Black. Is your room clean? I should dust and vacuum, but the latter doesn't currently work. List all the countries you’ve visited.  I've never left America. At what age would you allow your kids to dye their hair? Shit, whenever they wanted tbh. So long they sounded serious about it and it wasn't just a brief episode of "oh this would be cool." Which fast food place do you eat at the most? Hm. Wendy's or Sonic. When was the last time you weren’t lonely? Jesus fucking Christ, who knows. What kind of movies do you like? Horror, fantasy, Disney/kids' films, comedies, rom coms, and emotionally moving ones. Bats are not spooky or are they? They're adorable, omg. Do you think blue is a gay color? Fuck off. What's your opinion on gays? Fuck off harder. Do you like the song "Womanizer"? Don't even talk to me if you don't. Where is your favorite place to get fries? You can't live your fullest life without having Bojangle's fries at least once. Do you know anyone who was raised by their grandparents? Idk. Have you ever made your own pie from scratch? No. Who was the last person you had an in-depth conversation with? Sara. What was the last fast food item you ate? A hot dog. What is your favorite gaming console? You know PS2 was the best, you know it. What was the last major city you visited? Raleigh, if that even counts. Do you always have a stock of alcohol in your house? No. Have you ever had a pumpkin latte and if so, did you like it? I hate everything pumpkin-flavored. Is there an antique store in your town or city? I think so... Have you ever been to a baby shower? My sister's. Maybe others', but idr. Do you know anyone who has been to rehab? Pretty sure yes. How many romantic relationships have you been in so far? Genuinely "romantic" ones, two. Would you consider yourself to be a picky eater? I am 99% sure I am the pickiest human being to ever live. Have you ever lived in a house with a pool in the yard? Not a built-in one. What color is your toothbrush? Blue. Do you have gluten intolerance or know anyone who does? I know a few people. Have you ever slept in a car overnight? No. Have you ever fainted? Yes. Do you avoid conflict as much as possible? YUP. Do you like ice cream cake? I'm not a big fan. Have you ever made out with someone of the same sex? Yes. Where is your second home!? The place I'm second-most comfortable is probably Sara's. What song always makes you sad? I avoid listening to "The Mortician's Daughter" by Black Veil Brides unless I just really, really want to hear it. I always tear up due to memories. Have you ever played a game that required removing your clothes? No. Where is your favorite place to be kissed? Breasts and neck. Were you mean as a little kid? No. Who was the last person you hung out with? Dad. What is your mother’s name? Donna. What is your favorite song at the moment? I've been in true love with a heavy metal cover of "Invincible" from the WoW soundtrack for like a full month. What day will you never forget? The breakup night. Suicide attempt. My niece and nephew being born. Meeting Sara. Getting Teddy. First time hanging out at Jason's. 16th birthday. Alice Cooper concert. Putting Dale and Cali down. There's a lot. What was the last thing you took a picture of? Some crazy shit on FB to show Sara. Something you're looking forward to? Getting a goddamn job. What is God teaching you right now? Lul. What does Notre Dame Cathedral mean to you, and how has its fire affected you? I was devastated to hear about it; it was the one event that actually got me paying attention to the news. It is a monument of incredible art and history, and for Catholics, a house of their god. I am so thankful the damage wasn't too tremendous. What’s the last dumb decision you made that you beat yourself up over? I dunno. Surprisingly. What’s your favorite version of the Bible to read? N/A If applicable, do you underline verses in your Bible? N/A When was the last time you went to church? Not since Colleen had her extreme Christian phase two years ago. What’s the last song you listened to on repeat? "Radio" by Rammstein. That new album's gonna be bangin'. Does your town’s hospital have a good reputation? NOPE. It sure does not. I have no issue with the psychiatric care unit there, though. Every time I went to the ER for suicidal thoughts or the attempt, they were sweethearts to me. But as far as physical health, they do NOT have a good rep. I know someone's grandfather that nearly fucking died thanks to them, and I can't recall what it was exactly, but Mom had some complaints during her kidney cancer treatment. What is your hometown known for? Crime. Are you longing for and missing a toxic person? I honestly miss Colleen sometimes, but I can't go back to her. I can't. I'm done giving her more chances than she deserves. It was nice to actually have someone to hang out with, but she is just overall not a pleasant person. What’s your greatest longing? Financial stability, probably. Have you ever read a Bible verse and thought, “this isn’t true”? BOY HOWDY- What are you behind on? Being an adult. I am 23 and a SOOOOOORRYYYYYY excuse for one. Is there someone who’s stolen from you and never got caught? Yes. Someone stole our basketball hoop from my childhood home. Have you been lonely for most of your life? Most of my life, no. What color is your sleeping bag? I don’t have one. When was the last time you used a sleeping bag, and what for? When I lived with Colleen and slept on the floor for a bit. Do you live near the woods? Yeah, there's woods across the road. What do you want to be for Halloween this year? List 1-3 ideas. I wanna be the dumb blonde witch from Hocus Pocus, lmao. A pastel vampire would be pretty cool. And Rhett from the "Sleep Tight" video has instilled in me the great desire to be a steampunk toothfairy at least once. List five things people have been jealous of you for. Idk. List five things you have felt jealous of other people for. More than anyone, a friend of many friends' photography success when I can genuinely and modestly say I really think I'm better than her. That is easily the worst envy situation I've dealt with (and still do), as this is the one that is actually almost spiteful, wrong as that is. Then I have another friend who is a FANTASTIC photographer as well and is now a professional one in the fashion industry, I believe. Then there was a girl I went to school with called Cailin whose drawing skills were naturally INCREDIBLE since elementary school, and I remember back then, me and her would always get the most attention for our work, but she did moreso, but I wanted to be the "best" artist. Once I hit high school I just had great respect for her talent. Next, one of my former best friends Hannia was a natural GENIUS that got perfect scores on LITERALLY almost anything; she had the highest GPA in the entire school, while I was right behind her. And uhhhh five... I have been and still am jealous of my sisters for being proper, successful adults. What is your favorite shade of brown? Like a caramel tone, I guess? What color is your toilet seat? White. Would you rather live in an apartment or a house? Definitely a house. What’s one thing you had growing up that you miss now? Energy. Do you prefer kale, lettuce, or spinach? Lettuce. Do you listen to instrumental bands such as Hammock, Trentemoller, etc.? No. Have you ever gotten a manicure or pedicure? Just because my sisters went and Mom wanted me to hang out with them. I may have with my old friend, too. Have you ever self-harmed? Yeah. Never the answer. Do you have any eating disorders? No. I'm afraid of developing one once I (hopefully) get to the weight I want, though. Have you ever met a celebrity? No. Do you like Monster Energy or do you prefer other energy drinks? I hate energy drinks. They taste like poison. Do you plan on getting married? Yeah. Do you want kids? That's a big fat nope. What’s your sexual orientation? I don’t judge. Bisexual. At what time of day do you normally feel the best? The morning. Name one reason why someone should not commit suicide. YOU. CAN. GET. BETTER. Seek professional help if you feel suicidal, and after what I understand is a serious struggle, you truly can go into the light at the end of the tunnel. You've got, to our understanding, one shot at this. Don't end it when there is a possibility for a beautiful future. If you’re unhappy, what would it take to make you fulfilled? Have a job and be in school. Name someone you know who is a cancer survivor. My mom. Are you friends with any cancer survivors? I don't think so. Do you wish the sunrise and sunset lasted longer? Hm. Sunset, maybe. Idk. Name a country whose history you know nothing about. Lmao most. What is your favorite store at the mall? Hot Topic. Do you have a bed or do you sleep on a mattress on the floor? I have a bed. When was the last time you went for a run? Shit, not since high school gym. Do you keep Christmas lights up year-round? No. What did you win a scholarship for? Nowhere. What type of bug do you see the most often in your home? Flies. Do you put off things until the last minute? I tend to. Is your mom the same size as you? No, I'm smaller. Do you know any Christians who aren’t judgmental? No shit. Do you still think of that Gwen Stefani song when you spell bananas? Ha ha yup. Do you like the way your hair naturally is, or do you change it? It's fine. But I want it dyed badly. Do you know anyone who died accidentally by doing something stupid? Yes. How many different languages have you taken in school? Latin and German. How tall is your father? (Estimate?) Idk. Over six feet. Would you meet Miley Cyrus if you had the chance? No. What is your favorite slow song? Oh yeesh. Idk. Maybe "See You On The Other Side" by Ozzy. Do you believe in karma? No. Do you constantly check your cell phone? No. Only Sara or Mom ever text me, and I pick it up just if the green light is blinking (means I have a message). If there were aliens on earth, would you be afraid? Well yeah. If you could spend 1 hour 20 years in the future, would you? Yes. I want to see where I am, so long as I can change my behavior to improve that future if needed. Otherwise, I don't wanna know. Are your pets asleep? Teddy probably is, Bentley might be, idk where Roman is, but he likely is, I can't see Mitsu from where I am currently, Venus may be (no eyelids, so you never know) as she's in her rock, and Kaiju is awake. Have you ever wished you were an only child? Never. Have you ever hurt someone on purpose? Yes. Have you ever gotten hurt while sledding? No. Do you enjoy going through old pictures? It depends on the subject of them and my mental state. Kid pictures I'm always up for, high school ones are okay, though they can make me really upset with how healthy and skinny I was, and I deleted all photos I had on Facebook of Jason and me last year so I couldn't even risk looking at them ever again, as there's a good chance some would trigger my PTSD. Of all your exes, who do you think you had the deepest feelings for? Jason, obviously. Do you tend to have a lot of drama in your life? I have the most uneventful, bland life. No. When’s the last time someone was disappointed in you? Idk. What song are you listening to right now? Is this one of your favorite songs? "Alone I Break" by Korn. No, but I love it. What is something you have to explain a lot? My sweating issue. Gross to talk about, but I sweat seriously excessively, like you would not believe. It can be 70 degrees and I'll be sweating in seconds. People worry about it, and in VR, I've had to explain it so many times due to it affecting suitable jobs (I think we can all agree being drenched in sweat at work looks extremely bad). Hopefully I won't have to anymore when my doctor decides what to do about it. It's most likely a thyroid issue, which I have no clue about how to subdue symptoms of. There's really a shitload I have to explain lately between doctors and VR... Which compliment do you receive the most? From those that know me/see me, that I'm losing weight. From people in general, "I love your hair" or something like that. Who were you last on the phone with? My sister. What is one thing you have always wondered? Uh. Idk. I'm sure there's a lot, just nothing's coming to me atm... What do your friends think about the music you listen to? Your family? My friends and I like similar stuff, as do my parents, especially Mom. My sisters are the total opposite of me and don't enjoy metal and the like at all. Has anyone ever told you to grow up? Essentially. Do you believe people when they say they don’t judge people? Hell no. How many true friends do you have? Excluding family and my girlfriend as they're more than that, like... one or two, it feels like most of the time. Can you honestly say you’re happy right now? No. What is something you are exceptionally bad at? Doing math in my head or spelling up there. AND READING LIPS. Do you have a house phone? No. Who do you love more than anyone right now? Don't make me choose between Mom and Sara. How much money do you have saved up? I literally have $11. Do you like bright/neon colors? Yes, but I prefer pastel. What is your favorite wild animal? Meerkats. Do you ever eat breakfast? I almost always do. Do you remember who your first grade teacher was? Yes. Have you ever won any trophies? What for? Yeah, for A honor roll all through elementary school (save for 5th grade; I got one B and was so upset, lmao), then in all kid sports I played, everyone got lil ones, some from dance I believe, and I think there's one or two others I'm not thinking of...

[langblr-o-kebek]

How to feed yourself cheaply when you live alone

It can be so frustrating and difficult to get used to living by yourself. Apparently cabinets don’t come magically stocked with spices and you have to buy things??? with money???? So here’s a few things I’ve learned along the way along with some links to other great posts that have information along this subject too.

1. Secretly assassinate a relative and collect inheritance

2. Find a sugar daddy

If 1 and 2 are options then the rest of this post is worthless to you, if they are not options, keep reading.

Your first visit to the grocery store Buckle up because it’s going to be the most expensive one

You need to stock your kitchen since you are not a roach and can’t just eat the wooden cabinets. Every kitchen should have some combination of the “basics” which will be your non-perishable pantry items-those things that your parents house seemingly never runs out of. 

The Basics

-Rice -Pasta (+any other grains you might like such as couscous, wheat berries etc.) -Flour -Sugar -Brown sugar (if you’re into baking like I am) -Baking Soda -Baking powder -Spices (for example, cumin, cayenne, oregano, basil, paprika, etc.) -Salt and pepper -Oats -Boullion or cans of stock -Cans of soup/packets of ramen -Coffee/tea

I suggest you buy these kinds of items in bulk if possible. If you have the space to store them, they will last you forever and items like these can make a meal that is supposed to be 1-2 servings into somethings thats 4-6 which I’ll explain later. Also, buying in bulk is cheaper per pound/100 grams (whatever system you’re using) so in the long run, you’ll save lots of money by buying one fat ass sack of rice a year instead of 15 every few weeks. Check your area for bulk stores, places that sell spices and grains by the weight. This will save you cash and can be more eco-friendly if you’re able to use your own bags/containers.

Tips for meals

It is so much cheaper to cook a larger amount of food at a time than making something for each individual meal. This is because for the most part, you can’t buy ingredients sufficient for one serving at the grocery store and you don’t want to buy something you’ll only use once and then the rest goes bad and bye-bye money. Making a meal that will last you 3-4 days is not only cheaper, but also saves time since after the initial cooking, all you have to do is reheat a little at a time later. You can take this a step further and use grains like rice, pasta and couscous to “cut” the food thereby doubling the amount of servings you have. Below are some really easy recipes that I use that last me days.

Things you can make at home for cheap

HUMMUS! Bc it’s a great snack, filling, healthy and is stupid expensive at the store and stupid cheap and easy to make.

-1 can of garbanzo beans -2 T of tahini (you can leave this out if you want, tahini can be expensive) -1 T lemon juice -1 clove of garlic, minced -Cumin, paprika, salt, pepper

Literally throw it all in a food processor and blend. If it’s too thick, you can add more olive oil or save some of the water from the beans and add that as well. If you do that, less salt will need to be added. If you use dried beans that you’ve soaked and shit you will need more salt.

If you don’t have a food processor, you can heat the beans up and smash it by hand, it’s more effort and it may be chunkier but it works. Same goes for immersion blenders.

Fun ways to shake this hummus up

-Roasted Red pepper: Chop 1/3 C of roasted red pepper and add. Replace some of the olive oil with some of the juice from the pepper jar.

-Roasted Garlic: Instead of mincing a garlic clove, expose the head of the garlic (lol) and rub with a little olive oil, making sure it gets into the cracks (lol). Wrap in foil and roast at 400 degrees (~200 C) for 30-35 minutes. Garlic should be nice and soft when it’s done. Roasted garlic is sweet instead of biting like raw garlic so using a whole head is okay and you won’t die when you eat it.

-Artichoke heart+black olive: Chop up one can of artichoke hearts with however many chopped black olives as you would like

-Pesto: Add in at least one tablespoon of pesto

Now the question is, how do I eat my hummus and the answer is, there’s actually a billion ways

-Put it on a sandwich or wrap! -Dip celery, cucumber, carrots, peppers in it! -Eat it with pretzels or tortilla chips OR if you’re a cheap bastard like me, make your own tortilla chips by cutting up some tortilla rounds, brushing them with olive oil, sprinkling them with salt and bake at 350 for 10ish minutes. I usually put mine into the oven right when I turn it on and pull them out when the oven is preheated bc I can’t be bothered to actually figure out a proper cooking time. Whatever, this is way cheaper than buying chips and they’re more filling. You can also make tortillas, it’s cheap and simple, I find they taste better, but it is slightly time consuming. Here’s a recipe. -Eat it with a spoon wgaf you live alone no judgement.

Coffee Creamer

Hell yes you can make this at home. The basic is about 1 3/4 cup of milk (whatever kind of milk, the more fat in the milk the creamier the creamer) and 14oz of sweetened condensed milk. You can also add in a few drops of any sort of extract/honey or some sprinkles of cinnamon/nutmeg whatever suits your fancy! Here is a bunch of variations. Also put 1/4 of a teaspoon of cinnamon per cup of coffee in with your coffee grounds in the filter for a cinnamon scented coffee.

Popcorn

Well, we all knew this one. But honest to god it is so much cheaper and healthier to pop popcorn using a bag of kernels than it is to buy a box of microwave popcorn. Just pour some oil and a tablespoon of butter into a large pan, add the popcorn and cook covered over medium heat. As soon as the kernels start to pop make sure you start jiggling the pan to keep them moving so they don’t burn and ruin your pan. I’m pretty sure you can put the kernels in a paper bag in the microwave too. Throw salt on it, or even cinnamon and sugar cuz why not.

RULES FOR GROCERY SHOPPING

1. buying in bulk saves

2. Don’t buy in bulk if you can’t use it all before it expires-like yeast! Most expiration dates are pretty generous and you can actually continue using the product beyond the date (this amount of time varies, please for your own safety please google it). Yeast is the only food I know of that is true to its expiration.

3. Avoid superstores when possible. Most of the time, you’re paying for the convenience. Superstores are often more expensive because you’re paying for the convenience of doing all your shopping in one place. 

4. Ethnic markets are almost always cheaper-especially for trendy things like Coconut oil (so cheap at indian food markets!!) Find Chinese, Arabic, Indian, Mexican food markets around you and split up your shopping accordingly. 

5. MAKE YOUR OWN BREAD, it can be very easy. Google it.

6. Off brand is just as good as the rest

7. Coupons, grab them in the front of the store if available

8. Just because something is a good deal doesn’t mean you have to buy it. I don’t care if orange juice is on sale, I don’t drink a lot of orange juice. You know what’s cheaper than something being 50% off? Not buying it at all. It costs $0.00 to be smart. 

9. Don’t make grocery shopping a habitual thing. By that I mean don’t go grocery shopping every Sunday or whatever. Go grocery shopping when you need to go grocery shopping. If it’s been a week but you can wait 4 more days, wait 4 more days.

10. Don’t buy fresh herbs, grow them. A packet of seeds is cheap. Plastic pots are cheap. Potting soil can be cheap if you can find a place where you can buy by the weight instead of a massive bag. Plant the seeds according to the packet. Things like basil need to be watered often. Things like rosemary and thyme are okay chilling a couple of days without it. Read the packets and google it. Also it’s so rewarding to watch your little baby plants grow. An herb garden costs $10 dollars at the most to make. Fresh herbs at the grocery store cost $2-6 per package. Fresh herbs make meals taste a million times better I swear to god it’s the best thing you can do for yourself. Growing herbs also helped me with my depression so bonus.

11. If shopping at a super store, as much as possible stay out of the “middle”. What I mean is, things you buy should come from the sections closest to the wall-these include the produce, meat, dairy and frozen vegetables. All the processed foods are in the middle and though some can be cheap, they’re not filling and you end up buying them a lot. Doing things like making your own hummus can keep you out of the middle aisles and it’s healthier. Things from the middle you may need though are tea, ramen, grains, soup, peanut butter. 

12. Plan your trip. Thoroughly look through your fridge and cabinets to see what you’re out of. I even keep a little white board on my fridge where I write what’s in the fridge and what’s run out. Write down what needs to be replaced/what you need for the next couple of meals. Do not stray from the list when shopping.

13. Go to Marshalls or Winners or whatever equivalent for things like olive oil, K cups if you have a Keurig (oh fancy fancy) and cool pink salt. They also have other kinds of oils like sunflower and avocado, and even sometimes protein powders. It’s way cheaper there and you can buy a liter sized bottle of olive oil for like 7 dollars when it would cost at least twice that at a grocery store. 

14. Do not have the same grocery list every week. Prices of things change, your list should reflect that. If you’re wanting to get some sort of fruit for a snack, don’t get apples every week. Get whatever is in season. The prices of fresh produce in stores and markets will reflect what’s in season (i.e. the cheapest things). Lucky for us Bananas are always in season and are a super cheap snack that people forget about. I often wait until they’re ripe, cut them up and freeze them to make smoothies. 

15. Don’t be afraid of tofu. It’s cheap as hell and once you learn how to prepare it, can be a fantastic substitute for animal proteins if meat/fish are too expensive.

16. Don’t forget, so many foods can be frozen. If something is crazy on sale, don’t be afraid to buy more than usual if you are able to freeze it. Here’s a list of things that can be frozen. TBH here, in Canada, I buy those big 3L bags of milk and store the little baggies in the freezer. 

Finally, go to Goodwill stores and thrift shops to find kitchen appliances, dishes, and cookware for cheap! The best 7 dollars I ever spent was on a crock pot. These stores have so many items that last FOREVER, like a good pan, or a classic cafeteria.  Don’t think you can’t cook because you can’t afford the equipment. Kitchen equipment doesn’t have to be a huge investment.

That’s all I have for today. Good luck out there guys.

[calacavera-blog]

i closed my eyes. (tw: shock, violence, blood)

“It’s a very typical romance series. An angel falls in love with a human and starts trying to be like a human. I think only the tragic ending makes it stand out,” I explained, my eyes closed as I felt a hand playing with my short hair.

“Is that really it? I thought that scenario would be interesting. The concept could be explored to figure what it means to emulate humanity, or what it means to be human,” he replied, once again on the same philosophical bent he approached all works with. 

I sigh into his lap. “It’s a generic romance anime. Of course it won’t go that deep.”

“But I can agree with it. An angel trying to emulate a human makes sense to me,” he countered.

“Who would want to emulate humans, anyway. Is it even worth trying to emulate humans? They’re all terrible, terrible people. Scary. Awful. All of them can be so bad to each other...” I trail off, turning my head to look up at his face.

“I think it’s worth it!” he said with some emphasis. I freeze up at the determination in his face.

“I think humans are worth emulating, no matter how hypocritical or illogical they can be,” he continued, “Just like some humans want to be angels, I’m certain some angels want to be human. It’s only natural.”

“...Why...?” I ask, watching him stroke my hair even as he spoke so passionately.

“Being an angel must be lonely. Following orders all the time, never having desire or life of their own. Are you really free just by having wings? How many times should an angel fall?”

His questions lingered in the air, two of his fingers gently tugging along a lock of my hair. After looking at him for such a long time, I suddenly turned my gaze away. He was too pretty when he looked so pensive.

But...why did he sound so empathetic when he talked about angels?

“It’s just a generic romance anime,” I finally responded.

I could feel him smile that gentle smile, adorned by his messy blue hair.

As he continued to play with my hair, I sank my head further into his lap, absorbed by the feeling. I closed my eyes and relaxed.

I don’t know when he started coming to this bookstore, or when it was I started talking to him, but one day I found myself carrying conversations with him.

Back then, I was majoring in communications, hoping to get a job as a copywriter after graduation. I had a fascination with short, punchy lines that stuck with you. Leitmotifs were my motivation, I guess you could say.

In my time away from classes and during the weekends, I took up a part time job in a small bookstore in town. The owner was this gentle old man, his arms always shook as he handled the cash register. You could hear his joints pop with every movement.

I was in charge of putting books back on their shelves, offering advice on what to read, working the register when the old man was unable to (which was often as he had carpal tunnel, I think he was a failed writer before). I was basically customer relations, in a sense. I helped promote his bookstore by setting up an online page, even.

Anyway, I can’t remember when he first started coming to this bookstore. I remember one time asking him why he chose this specific bookstore to frequent, and he replied that it was because it was so off the beaten path and secluded, which I replied with saying those two meant the exact same thing. 

He laughed. I looked at him funny. He then told me that the real reason was because this bookstore was the only one in this town that had the obscure books that he had been looking for: some old reference books about the migrations of northern barn owls, a few books cataloging the folklore of this region, poetry from deceased and forgotten poets, and a cooking book which barely sold enough for a second print edition and nothing more.

I smiled awkwardly and said that yeah, those books were strange. The old man owner would always say that every book deserved its place to be displayed and bought and loved. He laughed again and agreed with the mentality of the old man.

When I asked him why he was looking for such strange books, he said that he had just gotten an interest in them. I asked, isn’t that just trivial and useless knowledge? and he said no, that there was someone with enough interest and passion in the subjects to write and publish an entire book on them, so that they deserved at least a read. They were not trivial.

I guess he is the same type of eccentric as the old man.

Nevertheless, the more he came by, the more I talked with him. We would spend an hour at most talking to each other. Every time, he would recommend me strange books (which the store was selling) and even let me borrow a few of his; in essence, he was doing my job at me.

At some point, I started having a crush on him. He was beautiful, even as much of a weirdo as he was (but one could say that bizarre nature of his was charming in its own way?). Tan skin, just an exact arch to the bridge of his nose, brown eyes that shone just so when the sunlight hit, eyebrows that arched and positioned with an expressive flair, full lips that had this cute little way of twitching into a half-cocked smile when he found something amusing... Well, wasn’t it easy to develop a crush?

Of course, he spoke with such strange words and broached so many eclectic topics that I began to wonder what was wrong with his brain; yet it felt like he knew exactly what he was doing. It was like he knew the things he said were ridiculous and he was teasing the listener. At some point, my frustration grew and I would call it out.

“That’s ridiculous!” I’d say. “This makes no sense!” would be my remark. He’d only laugh and finally own up to entertaining a ludicrous idea. He was annoying to talk to for long periods of time. His presence could drive someone nuts. He was almost childish in how he handled interpersonal relationships. But...it was fun talking to him. I found it fun. I looked forward to our conversations.

At some point, I finally asked for his name. “Comte Bellamarre,” he answered. I scoffed, “So you’re the Marquis of St. Germain?” I asked. He laughed again and admitted to lying, then said, “I’m Mercutio.”

Mercutio... A Shakespearean character. I got mad and threatened to punch him if he didn’t quit lying, so he laughed awkwardly and waved his hands out in front of him, saying that he was honest. He even showed me his identification. Those can be forged, I said. Yeah, but these aren’t, he said.

I took it for the truth. One time, he came into the bookstore sporting blue hair. I stood there, my eyes wide. Of all the ridiculous things he would say and do, why would he dye his hair blue?

I asked him, “Why would you dye your hair blue?”

“It’s not dyed,” he answered, “I actually stopped dying it.”

I sighed.

“...It suits you,” I said.

He made this face at that. I remember that face vividly. He had this...earnest embarrassment to it, a face a pure schoolgirl made at being complimented--a flattered face, with this slight blush and looking down at something with focused eyes and an unsure, open mouth smile. Just from an offhanded compliment about his blue hair?

I’ll admit, my heart skipped a beat. I laughed it off awkwardly and went back to sorting the books in front of me. Damned people always leaving books on the wrong shelf after browsing.

“Thank you,” he finally said after a long silence. I looked up to him and caught his eyes, staring at me with gratitude. I looked back to the pile of books I needed to sort with a quiet yeah.

When I got back home after my shift, I had to sit down on the corner of my room. I was holding a book of his in my hand. I would think about that face he made for an entire week after. That cute face of his, innocent and endearing. I closed my eyes and daydreamed.

There was a book he gave me to keep, some little hardcover full with the works of some dead poet who went away with obscurity. He said it was rare, so he wanted me to take extra good care of it. I said, maybe it wasn’t rare but more like people didn’t want it. He laughed, but I felt my words were harsh. I promised that I would.

I’m holding it in my hand right now, staring at the plain hardcover. It just had the poet’s name and the title, weltschmerz. It was so unassuming and vague. It held barely any presence even when it was held. I guess that’s why he liked it?

“Have you been eating well?” he asks, his voice a few feet away in the small kitchen of my tiny apartment.

“Ye--Absolutely,” I answer.

“Healthy, fresh food, yeah?”

“Yeah, that’s right.”

“You made your way to the grocery store and not just stopped by the corner store right next to your apartment to buy junk food?”

“Yeah, I’m making progress!”

“Then what’s with these bags of instant ramen bowls?”

I pause. Dammit, how did he find those? I had them hidden in the cupb--oh, right.

“I, uh... Sorry,” I fess up. There’s no point hiding the truth.

“You know you need to eat better,” he says as he walks into the living area with two plates of curry. He knows that I love the dish, but if he found out that I only tried it because it appeared so much in anime...

We settle into our meal. As always, it’s delicious. I don’t understand how he’s able to cook so well. I know he’s rich, so why does he cook when he could hire someone to cook for him? I remember asking him this once, and he said that he had enough experience so he didn’t need anyone to do what he could do for free. I don’t think he understands the appeal of someone cooking for you. At least I do.

“Have you been able to go outside this week?” he asks me while I take another spoonful of curry into my mouth. I swallow hard.

“Well... No...” Not last week, either. I stocked up on a bunch of instant and microwavable food at the corner store and have stayed locked inside this whole time.

“Hey...” Mercutio looks at me with this fixed stare. I duck my head and whisper out an apology.

“It’s okay,” he says with reassurance.

We finish our meal as I talk about the latest manga I read. I carry most of the conversation and end up recommending many new anime and manga to watch when he began to ask questions about what I referenced.

He tells me that he heard about this term in some anime, ‘doujin-shi’. I almost spit out the tea he brewed for me and assure him that it’s really nothing important. He didn’t need to go down that road.

He tells me that my hair was becoming unkempt and that I need a haircut, which he then proceeds to do by pulling up a chair in front of the couch and cutting my hair with a pair of scissors I keep to cut upon macaroni dinner boxes. He cuts my hair short enough that it could grow a few weeks without needing another and even sweeps the hair off the floor.

It’s been about three years since I’ve basically become a NEET and he’s kept up doing things like this the entire time. He cleans my apartment, restocks my fridge, and lets me rest my head on his lap while he pets my hair when I’m feeling touch-starved. Every week, he comes by. I’ve been looking forward to it more than the weekly anime I watch.

I’ve been thinking. He really does go out of his way for me. He even pays my bills. I’ve been...feeling guilty lately. Guilty, because...

Isn’t this exactly every NEET’s dream?! Having a handsome guy in a suit come by every week to provide for them and cater to them so intimately?! And he talks with me about my strange interests without even judging!! Wouldn’t all the NEETs in the world hate me?! I feel so guilty!!! Hee, hee~ Feel jealous all NEETs of the world!

Wait, no. No. No. That’s a bad train of thought. It’s unhealthy. Ahhhh, I used to never think like this!! He’s trying to help me recover little by little so I could learn to live a normal life in society again!

But why, I always asked him. He always responded with, “Because you’re a dear friend.” Which, I guess is nice if a bit disappointing of an answer, though it’s pretty clear there’s something more to it. 

I think he feels responsible for me ending up like this.

When he waved goodbye and closed the door to my apartment, I immediately began to feel lonely. I closed my eyes and pondered.

I don’t remember what had happened during that day.

All I remember was how Mercutio and I were alone in the bookstore together, talking to each other in one of those rare days where my shift was practically deserted and he was there to keep me some company.

Then I remember some guy walking into the bookstore and didn’t say hi back to me, going into the nonfiction section to peruse through the binds.

Mercutio kept talking to me, but something in the way he talked showed some unease. I felt this strange knot in my stomach. I thought nothing of it (maybe it was the bad sub I had for lunch) and kept talking about the different classifications of breeds of dog.

There was an explosion.

I could hear Mercutio yelling my name and pushing me away before a loud boom echoed through the bookstore and broke all the windows and rocked vibrations through my body that made my heart feel like it stopped and then nothing but ringing in my ears.

I felt disoriented. The ringing continued. I was on the floor with glass around me and drops of blood.

I tried standing up, but my legs didn’t want to work right. I was in a state of shock, basically.

I peered up over the store counter to see a group of people swarm the place with guns. I looked at the dead body on the floor next to where Mercutio was standing. That body didn’t seem like it died from the explosion but from a slash to the throat.

I shuddered. That was the first time I saw a dead body. In those eternal seconds that I stared at that cadaver, I felt a body hug me and a strong piercing sting on my shoulder. Then that body got off me.

Soon, I would discover that Mercutio had covered me and tackled me to drop me on the ground again, and that piercing sting was a bullet that had shot through my shoulder.

I laid on the ground there, bleeding from a bullet wound, for what felt like years. I felt numb. My mind wasn’t processing what has happening. The ringing in my ears continued, muting the sounds of screams and guns firing. Then muting the sounds of nothing.

I laid there. A century later, it was as if everything that had happened finally broke me. I felt a rush of panic, fear, pain. My body started shaking and I curled into myself. I kept staring at nothing.

Finally, I screamed.

I screamed and cried and cried in the silence.

Then I felt a hand on my shoulder. My body spasmed trying to shake it off, but the hand stayed firm and I felt another hand patting my head.

I reached for those comforting hands and wrapped one arm around whoever it was (the other arm wasn’t moving, and I was panicking not knowing why). 

I could finally hear myself screaming and crying.

I could finally hear Mercutio, rubbing my back and whispering that I was okay and that he was sorry.

Four minutes.

It was four minutes the amount of time this took to transpire.

Four minutes, and it changed me absolutely.

Three minutes later, the ambulance sirens could be heard.

I couldn’t think of anything for so long after this, only responsive to what was asked of me and to the pain of my wound being treated. I only remember squeezing the same person’s hand the entire time.

I don’t think it was Mercutio.

I developed a fear of going outside. I stopped going to the university and stopped talking to my parents and friends. I shut myself off from the world and shut myself down.

I closed my eyes.

It took months for me to even talk to anyone again. In those months, it was Mercutio that was there with me.

It wasn’t just him, it was mostly the numerous speech therapy sessions, but he was there. My family would drop by and say hey, but we had already become estranged years before, so at some point they stopped coming. Mercutio was a constant.

Pretty soon, he became my caretaker. Once I was stable enough to take my first step into the real world, he was the one who set me up with an apartment.

He said he paid for the repairs for that old man’s bookstore, too.

In those first months, he looked at me with complete regret and guilt in his eyes. I hated those eyes. I wanted those soft eyes of him--the ones that were so cute and innocent back.

I vowed to get better so I could see those eyes again. At least just for that reason.

Well, then I got into anime. Then my recovery kinda plateaued.

Still, Mercutio even went so far as to set up a weekly allowance where he wired money to me even with paying for my bills and food.

I opened my eyes, realizing I had dozed off in his lap. I blinked twice and yawned, rubbing my eyelids of the sleep. I then opened my eyes again to notice Mercutio watching tv. Once he noticed me rousing from my nap, he glanced down and smiled gently.

“You awake?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I said sheepishly.

“Well, then... Can you...”

“Ah?” I wondered what he meant by that.

“Well...” he said with one finger scratching his cheek, “my legs have been asleep for the last half hour...”

“Oh!” I shout and sit up straight beside him. Forgive me! I looked at the tv, wondering what it was he was watching and realized it was that romance anime with the angel I was telling him about earlier.

“It’s interesting, conceptually...” he said absentmindedly.

“Yeah...?” I ask, wondering what he thought of it now that he was watching it.

“I mean, it certainly is. An angel wanting to be human to be with another human. Something that can’t belong wanting to belong. I can relate...” he admitted, and my heart seemed to drop at the painful honesty he seemed to speak with.

“So...?” I ask.

“It certainly is just a generic romance anime,” he responded so blunt.

I closed my eyes and laughed. He laughed along.

[howtohero]

#127 Superhuman Civilians (and also a few tips on how to fight robots I guess)

While many superhumans see their great powers as indicative of a responsibility of equal or greater greatness to the greatness of their powers. There are a great many who don’t! These people don’t see their powers as an inherent responsibility to do something for the betterment of society. They see them as just sort of something they have. Like the ability to touch your nose with your tongue. You wouldn’t feel beholden to stop bank robberies or try to swashbuckle with sword-wielding mothmen just because you could touch your tongue to your nose. So why should they feel that responsibility just because they can melt metal with their acid hands?

These superhuman civilians can be very frustrating to those superhumans who do feel the need to spring into action whenever those three yetis with identical eye-scars roll into town. (Why do they all have the same scar? Is it part of some sort of ritual? Are they all clones? Who gave them the scars? Did it hurt? Are these yetis just lashing out because somebody slashed their eyes? Perhaps they’re not really evil at all! Oh wait, one of them just ate a baby. One second we have to go deal with that now.) See, superheroes are constantly putting their lives, their relationships, even their sanity, on the line to protect the world and everyone and everything in it. Meanwhile these guys can create force fields and, heck, there’s that one guy who can control gravity and they’re content to just sit on the sidelines eating cheese puffs and watching epic fail videos on the internet instead of lending a hand. The gravity guy wouldn’t even have to put that much effort in. All he’d have to do is like pay attention for maybe four seconds and crush the threat under its own weight. We wouldn’t even need anybody else to do anything ever. Any time there was issue this guy could just take four seconds, deal with it, and then go back to eating his cheese puffs! Selfish. He’s really bringing everybody down that guy. 

But it’s important to remember that it’s their life and they can do what they want. Just because you’ve decided the best way to spend your time is to leap around in a leotard fighting sentient uranium rods from the Volski Quadrant, doesn’t mean that everybody like you has to do the same. In fact, maybe they’re doing other worthwhile things with their powers. Fighting bad guys isn’t the only thing superpowers can be used for. Maybe these people are helping to advance science, perhaps they’re spending their time dazzling the public with their fantastic ability and making people happy, maybe they only use their powers to help the people they care about. I think that’s all right (and I am the expert). There are other guys who are protecting the world (so many that we’ve had to separate you all into your own territories) let these people just live their lives. 

Really the only time superheroes should need to worry about these superhuman civilians is when they actually do decide they want to help. If you’re in the middle of fighting… let’s say… The Dead President Society… Which is… A bunch of animatronic zombie versions of American presidents… That destroys banks... because banks hold “dead presidents” (that’s a cool old guy way to say “money”). There’s no specific reason why whoever built them made them zombies. That’s just what they decided. So you’re fighting the Dead President Society, and you’re in your zone. You fight robots all the time. This should be easy. All you need to do is slap a How To Hero Brand Technology Neutralizer™ on their chests and they’ll shut down. But then all of a sudden some guy in a hoodie (superpowered people without real superhero identities always just wear a hoodie when using their powers, as if that covers any part of their face, for shame) jumps into the fray and starts trying to help. It turns out the fight has gotten too close to the barber shop he owns. If it were a trained superhero, you’d welcome the help. But this is an untrained civilian. They don’t know what they’re doing. They haven’t read this blog! (You’d better hope you have the pocket sized version in your utility belt. And that you have the entry on mitigating collateral damage chapter bookmarked.) So now you’re tussling with all the presidents and you’ve got to watch out for this guy with his laser eyes. Who has only ever used them to heat up food. Heating up food and fighting robots are very different activities? Don’t believe me? Go microwave a pop tart. Then, go fight a robot. You may notice that there’s not a lot of crossover between those skills! Ok, yes, technically you could use a microwave to beat a robot in a fight. All right, let’s just run through that real quick. Robots will explode if exposed to too much radiation. Especially if it’s in a confined space. Like a microwave oven. So if you shrink your mechanical menace, or you enlarge the microwave (Making it a macrowave oven presumably.) and then put some really tasty nuts and bolts in the micro/macrowave to entice and entrap the robot, viola, you’ve destroyed a robot. 

But this untrained civilian doesn’t have that knowledge or those skills. They’re just a massive liability. They’re going to get in your way and probably endanger other (non-superpowered) civilians. So you need to shove them out of the way and wrap up this robot president situation super quickly so you can politely explain to Laserface (what are the odds that their last name was actually Laserface! Wow! This character I’ve invented sure is whimsical) why you shoved them so they don’t retaliate by shooting you with a laser (from their face!). When you have to rush through a takedown like that you run the risk of being sloppy and making a mistake. The robot might upload itself into the internet or release nanobots into the city’s water supply. You’re not going to have the time you need to carefully disable and dismantle the robot and take possession of and destroy any electronics it might’ve touched. All because this turbo-revvin punk thought that they could do your job better than you with zero training or experience. Let them know that you’d be willing to train them, or at least put them in contact with someone who would be willing to train them, and that if they don’t want to go through the proper training then they need to stay on the sidelines. 

At the same time there may be a time where you actually need these superhuman civilians’ help. Sometimes there are threats that are so grand and sprawling and terrible that it absolutely requires all hands on deck no exceptions even the guys on house-arrest. Or perhaps you’ve found yourself in a situation where only this one civilian’s very specific powers can diffuse the situation. When approaching a superhuman civilian for assistance try to be respectful. Don’t yell at them saying they’ve squandered their potential until now and that now is the time for them to finally make something of themselves. That’s not how you get someone to help you. Hate, yes. Help, not so much. Instead you should make sure to make clear to them exactly what is at stake, maybe emphasize the fact that their loved ones are also at risk (or their barber shop, basically just find out what’s important to them). You should also make it clear to them that this is a one time thing. That if they help you they won’t be drafted into some sort of superhuman army or be forced to protect the world all day every day. If you’re charming enough you might be able to get them to sign on before the planet is paved over and turned into an intergalactic parking lot.

While for many being a superhuman superhero is a dream come true there are others who simply want nothing to do with that kind of lifestyle. As a superhero it’s your job to protect them and defend their right to that sort of lifestyle just as you would anybody else. Maybe you’ll find yourself fighting alongside them one day, maybe you won’t. What they do shouldn’t concern you, those yetis are still eating babies go do something about that already!