#they would try to get me to eat 4 spoonfuls of peanut butter and some pretzels...like i cant do that or else i'll feel sick

[tazmiilly]

ive always been aware that the issues i had being medicated as a child for adhd were sort of my fault since i didnt ever bring up changing medications. however, now that i think about it, i dont know why my doctor didnt. why my mom didnt. i wouldnt eat a solid meal from 8am-4pm 5 out of 7 days of the week. why didnt they change my medication. they both knew i was skipping meals.

[pbandjesse]

I ate entirely to many mini Oreos and now my stomach hurts. But for the majority of the day I actually felt good! I had a really productive day while waiting for our door to get installed. It was really a good day.

I didn't sleep amazing. I would throw up really hard ore and painfully last night. And then even water and milk tasted bad. I would eat a spoon full of peanut butter to try and make myself feel more settled. And it helped. And I was able to fall asleep pretty fast. I would wake up a lot but it was whatever.

James says that I was very deeply asleep when they left. They gave me a kiss on the head still. They also left me a really nice note. I love them so much.

I felt pretty good this morning. I decided that I should try and accomplish as much as possible before I stopped to eat breakfast. I thought the inertia of moving would help me get stuff done and I was very right.

I started with a shower. I washed my hair. I got dressed and made the bed. I felt cute. I felt focused. I would feel kind of the best I have in a few days and it made me really happy.

I would get a lot done this morning. I put Ruby the Roomba a upstairs to clean. I would run the dishwasher. I put things away and tidied up the studio. I finally cleaned my one shadow box frame and glued down most of the rocks from the Ren faire. I'm really happy with that.

I would clean out the hall closet and under the bathroom sink. I'm really happy with how that came out. The hall closet is kind of a bad shape/size but I moved all of our bath towels to under the sink. So it's just the bathroom cleaner products and towels. And then the closet is all the beach towels, hand towels, and pharmacy stuff. And I moved a good amount of cleaning stuff to the basement like I wanted. I need to clean under the sink in the kitchen still but this was a lot of work!

I would put away all the shoes I brought in from the car. And did some sewing. And finally had some cereal.

After cereal I would hang out outside for a little. Sweetp and Crabcake were out there chilling. I dug up the dirt in the outside enclosure and am trying out having the green house in there so it can warm up and be a nice little space for him. I tried using the logs around it at first but he used them to climb on top and that is dangerous so I moved the logs. But I think he'll get a good amount of use out of it.

I had a lot of dirt under my nails. I cleaned them and the doorbell rang. Two of the curtains I got for the baby room came! I was confused that all 4 didnt come at once but that's okay. The other two will be here in Saturday. And they look so good. I'm excited to get them hung up. I need to get a curtain rod up but that's not a huge deal. We have one in the basement I just don't know if I have the brackets. I'll look around.

I would spend an hour or so working on cutting and measuring and tying all the yarn for my temperature blanket. I got August ready to knit. I know it is October and I am very behind. But I have a plan for catching up and I believe in myself.

When I was done that I was now in the window for the door install. 1-5. So I didn't want to get to involved in anything to time consuming. I would make lunch. I tried to make rice and veggies nuggets. And somehow overcooked the nuggets and undercooked the rice. I still ate it but it wasn't to bad. Just strange textures.

After I cleaned up I put away the clean dishes. I brought all the laundry downstairs. I hung up the tiny medicine cabinet I got for the bathroom. And I think it looks great.

I would lay on the couch for a while. My phone wasn't charging though. All of our cords are broken except the one in our bedroom. So I bought a few on eBay before just going upstairs to charge my phone for a bit.

I would pay my credit card. And watched videos. And waited.

The door guy would come at 4. And he was really nice. It was two people. An older guy and a younger guy. He asked if they could come in from the back and I walked him over so he could look and decide if he could swing it. And he figured it out. While I was out there watching how they were going to park in the green space I noticed that the persimmons are starting to turn colors! Pretty awesome.

The door is everything. It took about two hours to install. I stayed downstairs in the kitchen to watch but still be out of the way. I was very nervous when they were using a sawzall without any eye or ear protection. But our door frame sucked and had to be cut up all over because it was installed so poorly. But the new door is great. It has a full frame!! The door doesn't touch the ground anymore so there isn't a gap!! But the best thing is the window. The light!!! I was so pumped.

James got home around 430. And they would start making dough for pizza. And since they would be downstairs I would go upstairs to lay down while they worked.

James would come get me when the door was done. And it looked so good. Total game changer. The light it lets in is perfect. And just in time for it to start to get cool out and even if we don't have the door open we still have all the light. I'm thrilled. It was expensive but it was absolutely worth it. And soon we will also have a storm door. It is so cool.

Hopefully at some point in the next year we can also replace the front door. But for now I am just thrilled around this big change.

James would finish up the pizza. And it came out really good. They did a garlic butter brush over the whole dough and it made a big difference. We hung out on the couch and had dinner and it was nice.

James was sad about how bad the Orioles season ended last night. But they were trying to not let it make everything else upsetting. And still would play DND with their friends. I would chill on the couch and eat to many Oreos. And to try and help my stomach feel better I came upstairs to take a bath. And that is what I'm doing now.

But I think it's time to get out of the water and get cozy for the evening. Tomorrow I am dropping off the stickers for the flag house. And then I'm going to the zoo with Celia. Yes it's the second time I've gone to the Maryland zoo this week and the third time I'm going to w zoo this week but also I'm excited to see animals. I hope I feel good and it's a good day. For you as well. Sleep well everyone. Good night!!

[okmissgirl]

Absolutely Normal Nonsense

HEHE I'm still alive and this some real nonsense y'all 💀

Also happens to fulfill the Future catagory for HellCheer Aniversary Week day 4.

<- Last Nonsense

——————————————————————————————————

🥜 Sweet Nothings (and sour somethings) 🥒

To you I can admit

That I’m just too soft for all of it

“You gotta try it with peanut butter.” 

“I — what?” 

“Take your spoon, scoop some of it up—”

“Is this—?”

“Nuh-uh, you have to get a lot more. Like a heaping scoop. Here, let me—”

“Sweetheart, I know the logistics of it, I can… okay that’s — Chrissy that’s just straight up peanut butter.”

“But it tastes good! Especially when you spread a bunch on top of the pickle and the juice is still there, ugh, the contrast is phenomenal… I feel like I’ve ascended or something.” 

“Ascended? Peanut butter and pickles is a religious experience for you?” 

“Yes and I am a staunch believer and no sacrilege will be permitted in my house, so here comes the um, starfighter airplane jet thing… and…” 

“Wha— don’t just! Baby, I am agnostic at best—” 

“And you will see the light and be compelled if you would only open wide—”

“Ok princess, first, before I poison myself, how did you go from oreo and peanut butter cookies to this?”

“...put it in your mouth first.”

“Wh— I am not—”

“Please? Pretty please? For me?” 

“Oh baby doll, you’re so sweet. No.” 

“But—”

“No ma’am.”

“Ed-die!” 

“Chris-sy!”

“Give it a chance, the flavors, the textures — look at me baby, would I ever steer you wrong?”

“...”

“Eddie!” 

“Sorry, but I am very sure you would, case in point, I can’t even see the beaten path right now—” 

“Oh boo, where’s your sense of adventure? Where’s the man I fell madly in love with who used to do those disgusting beer kegs in college and use the same towel every week for months?” 

“Jesus Christ, woman — that dumbass is dead. Hallelujah.”

“But I want him back! Just for tonight? C’mon sweetie, one lick.” 

“Oh my god.” 

“I’ll eat the rest?” 

“And you’ll tell me who put you up to this? I brought that jar yesterday — there are only three pickles left mamacita — I know you’ve been going to town on these all day. That acid reflux is gonna be righteous tonight.”

“I promise it’s 8/10 worth the heartburn — that’s how good they are! … And I was bored, so…” 

“Bored?”

“Eh okay well, not completely, but that’s besides the point! Try it? Please?” 

“Ughhh, fine, fine…”

“Really?! Aw, Eddie—!”

“Hmm, since you asked so nicely… bottoms up, I guess…” 

“Hehe, enjoy…”

“...”

“...and?”

“Uh, cool your jets — I gotta analyze the flavor, the texture and all that shit…” 

“Oh… well, hurry up!” 

“My word, where is your patience, Christine? Hmm, I guess… it’s um… huh.” 

“Huh?”

“...s’not bad.” 

“Not bad? So that means… you like it?”

“I do not hate it.” 

“You love it!”

“It’s palatable, princess.” 

“See!! Oh my gosh, I told you! I told you, it’s the fucking contrast — like peanut butter and jelly!” 

“Uh, strong comparison, but I get what you’re saying. Now, who rummaged through our cupboards and got pickle juice all up in the peanut butter jar? ‘Cause I know it wasn’t you — that’s something you’d get mad at me for.”

“Well… Robin came over…” 

“Of course. Of course — you know, I walked into that one. Like in the back of my mind I thought “Eddie, what if it’s Bucklely who’s eating all your shit?” and at the time I didn’t wanna believe it but, tsk… should’ve known.”

“What! How could you say that? Robin’s so much fun!” 

“Yeah, until she starts packing our food in tupperware boxes and taking it to her place.” 

“She does not do that.”

“I’ve seen it with my own two eyes, Missus Munson.” 

“Edward Munson! You know how boring it is, staying at home 24/7?! All I ever do is fold, wash, and dry all the clothes we brought and then dig out some more for tomorrow to fold again and then I eat and watch reruns of Seinfeld. I try to cook but then my feet hurt. I try to drive to the grocery store but no, I can’t get behind the freaking wheel! I want to practice the stretches we learned in class so I put on exercise videos but I can’t even follow along with them! I sit there like a beached whale! There’s no one to call and everyone’s at work except me! There’s nothing to do, I’m slowly going out of my mind and, and… you know what, give me that—”

“What are you — hey! I was gonna—”

“NO! You don’t deserve a peanut butter pickle! Shame on you, making fun of me like that when Robin was so kind to come over and watch a movie with me, help make cookies, and introduce both of us to this delicious delicacy. You should be thankful!”

“Aw Chris, I am thankful; just didn’t know you had it so rough baby—”

“Ey! Get away, you! Don’t try to kiss me! I’ll stick this glob of peanut butter in your hair—”

“No you won’t.”

“I will.” 

“Uh, okay… I’ll just eat it off, but sure. “

“Eddie!” 

“Okay, okay pretty girl — I’m thankful that Buckley broke into our house so you could have some adventure for the day—”

“— I mean, you told her where the house key is buried, so that’s kinda on you—

“However, I’m at your beck and call whenever you need me.” 

“... I guess.” 

“You guess?” 

“I dunno, Munson. The way you look at those campaign sheets sometimes… kinda has me worried, is all…” 

“Perish the thought, fair maiden! For I find you tantalizing, bewitching — the object of many a man’s desire but alas, you are mine, Christine, and I’ll fall upon my own sword if there ever is a day I find myself blind to such godlike beauty…” 

“... hmm…” 

“Hmm? Too much?”

“No… I never said that… “

“Then pray tell… hmm, what? Is it a secret? Would you whisper in my ear? Don’t be afraid, you can tell me…” 

“No, no secrets here.”

“Oh…? “ 

“I do have a question though.” 

“And I await with bated breath to hear it.” 

“.... you fancy me a goddess, good sir?”

“Of course I... yes.”

“Am I to believe I am just a simple spirit you found looking into the glade?” 

“N-no, never you are not just any goddess. You are more brilliant than Aphrodite herself.” 

“You swear?” 

“On my life…” 

“...”

“... Chris—”

“Alright, help me get down from here.” 

“Oh! Uh, sure, but why do you—”

“Honestly, my ass is getting numb and I didn’t really think this through once I actually got up here so…” 

“Well, can’t have a sore ass on my watch, sweetheart — just lift your—”

“I’m heavier than before okay, so be careful with you back and don’t—”

“Pfft, babycakes you weigh 30 pounds soaking wet as we speak… there we go. Hmm.. I kinda like it, actually.” 

“Like what?”

“You know…” 

“I don’t, actually.” 

“Well… I’ve been meaning to ask… is my queen gonna claim her throne tonight?”

“... Eddie—”

“I’ve been waiting. Thirsting. Praying fervently that I could show my fealty to you once more. So… please…I—” 

“What… what if I’m… I’m not… too…”

“Never, never… ah… never, Christine…”

“Shi… I… okay.”

“Okay?”

“Please.” 

Oftentimes, Eddie is struck by the fact that he gets to come home to Chrissy Munson née Cunningham everyday. To find his wife sitting on the kitchen counter, scooping peanut butter onto a pickle stick, so far removed from the hustle and bustle of his chaotic workday. But he guesses that’s natural. 

He hopes the feeling lasts a lifetime. 

*BONUS*

“fifty-eight one-thousand, fifty-nine one-thousand… and… okay… okay, that’s…”

“...Chrissy? Chris, what are you doing in the shower? Is everything okay…? Cause uh, I woke up and your side of the bed was like wet with… something. I didn’t smell it or anything but uhh… you can wake me up when stuff like that happens. I know it’s normal and I can help—”

“Eddie! You thought I wet the bed? I’m no child!”

“Well yeah, I know that… but you’re also—”

“I’m in labor. Well, I’m pretty sure I am, at least. My water broke in bed.” 

“...what.” 

“Yeah, I woke up and it was like, everywhere, and it kept dripping down my legs… kinda gross. I wanted to take a shower.”

“Wha… holy fuck, can you rewind to, uh, Jesus… um, are you really, seriously—”

“Yup, I think so. Can you help me get out of here please?”

“Uh, uh, okay, yeah, no problem I can — I can do that.”

“Great!”

“Shit… maybe we shouldn't have done so much last night?” 

“No. We do a lot most nights. I don’t think that made a difference here.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Honestly? I think it was the pickles.”

[inappropriate-aunt]

Hello everyone. Bit of a sad life update incoming. Could be very triggering to animal lovers and anyone dealing with grief so please don't feel like you have to read this. I understand completely. I just need to share. This isn't normally the kind of thing I would be able to read let alone write.

We adopted my dog Edward about 4 and a half years ago. Vet estimates placed his age around 3, 4, maybe 5. He was a strong boy. Lover of the simple, slow things in life. Laying in the grass listening to birds. Sleeping on the couch. Cuddling with his humans. Getting scratched behind the ears and pet vigorously. Eating his dental treat every night. Going for walks. He was so calm. He calmed down everyone around him. If you were sad or anxious, he could tell. He would come over to you and nuzzle your hand. He would paw at you until you snapped out of it and pet him. He would sit on you and you'd feel grounded and safe. He was undeniably clever. He was a special dog. I've never met another dog like him. So chill, so respectful, so good. We barely had to do any training. He was a perfect gentleman.

A few weeks ago, he got sick. He started coughing and being less interested in his food. It was subtle, but then he refused his favorite treat, so two days before Christmas we took him to the vet to get help. They put him on antibiotics, which we gave to him for two weeks, mixed into wet food. It seemed to help. He was eating again, playing, getting better.

We finished the antibiotics and he seemed okay. Needed to gain some weight but that's nothing a little peanut butter and other tasty treats couldn't fix. He had previously been considered a few pounds overweight at a vet visit, so I wasn't too worried. He was on the fast track back to health.

One week ago he stopped eating his food again. We took him back to the vet and they said they thought he had lymphoma. We had to wait three days for the cytology report. He snapped at them when they took the sample. He had never done that before. He loved the vet. He loved people. He never growled at anyone. He was always an absolute angel with strangers. He would bark at bikes, but never maliciously. He once rammed himself into someone on a bike and was absolutely thrilled that he stopped her and got her to pet him. The vet warned us that behavior changes could mean the cancer had spread to his brain already. They said this type can be treated with chemo, but that it comes on fast. They didn't offer any other possible diagnosis. Just cancer. They gave us pain meds and appetite stimulants, and sedatives for his next appointment.

Over the next few days his condition got worse. He lost coordination. He was stumbling around and bumping into things. Getting himself stuck in small places. He was having accidents in the house. He ate some wet food, then eventually rejected that too. We called the vet again. They suggested all kinds of food and gave us some to try. I got him to lick ice cream and peanut butter and pureed chicken off a spoon. It was slow going, but he would eat and I thought, maybe we have a chance to fight this thing. He got worse. He fell down the steps. We took him to the ER vet. They agreed it was likely cancer. There was no oncologist on staff that day, he would be back in Monday. The test result came back the next day, confirming lymphoma.

I just had to get him through the weekend so he could see the oncologist. But by Sunday he wouldn't take as much food. Sunday night he started tremoring. He was getting himself hurt just pacing. He had a hard time settling down. A few times throughout the weekend I got him to sleep with me. I wasn't sleeping much without him. We got naps here and there. I kept a constant eye on him. I fed him whenever he would take it. I wiped the goop out of his eyes. We blocked off places where he was getting stuck. I set up his crate again so he had a place where we could put him safely to rest. He tried sleeping in bed with us but he couldn't get comfortable. He wet the bed, he jumped out of it, he paced. Sunday night he began howling in pain. Even with the pain medicine in him. All I could do was pet him and tell him I was there.

Monday morning he had a seizure. We went back to the ER vet. He had two more seizures while being examined. He'd lost more weight. They explained it meant that the cancer was in his nervous system. It got to his brain. They told us we had to consider euthanasia. That we could try steroids but it wouldn't improve his quality of life. That the chemotherapy wouldn't work on cancer that had spread this far.

You guys, I know I don't actually know how old he was but he was too young for this. I only had him for a few years! He was my family, my boy. We were supposed to have more time. It happened so fast.

I would have given anything to save him. I was prepared to spend all our money, go into debt, do any kind of degrading thing to afford treatments. I wasn't even given the chance. I screamed. I cried.

All I ever wanted was for him to be healthy and live a long life with me. When he came into my life I knew he was meant to be there, with us, in our home that he loved. With people who loved him, and he loved us. I saw the love in his amber eyes every day. I did everything for him. I bought all this stuff for him. I tolerated work, and life, and everything horrible in the world because it meant I could buy more nice things for him, and spend time with him. He made the world a better place.

If the chemo had been able to help, I would have spent thousands on it. Even to just have one more week where he felt better. Felt like himself. The cancer took everything from him. Everything he loved. Eating, going for walks, sitting outside, cuddling for hours, sleeping- he didn't want much! He just wanted those things. Those simple pleasures. He couldn't do any of them.

I know we made the right decision, but I fucking hate it. I can't stop thinking about him. I remember how he smelled, how soft his fur was, how his tongue felt when he licked me. Never too many licks, just enough to let you know he cared.

I miss him so so much. I want to hold him again. I want him to lay his head on me because he sees that I'm crying. I want him to ask to go outside. I want him to paw me and accidentally leave a bruise. I want him back. I love him so much. He was my best friend. It hurts so so much. It's three am. I slept a little but I had to get out of bed. I don't want to wake my husband up with my crying. He would understand, but still, I want him to get sleep.

I can't believe I have to face the world without Edward in it. He deserved so much more.

I'm going to try to put as much love out into the world as he did. One day I know we will adopt another dog, and love them too. Because even though this hurts so much, I won't let it harden my heart. There are others out there who need me. Dogs and people. I'm still here. I can still help. I can be the good in the world that was taken from me. But I will always miss him. And I will always, always love him.

[weaselle]

cooking for people who have no idea what they are doing (or are just, like, real depressed)

Okay, I’m a professional cook, but also, I get depressed. This is the cooking I do when I’m depressed, because I need the simplest path to a whole meal.

This is not for vegetarians, because, while I wholeheartedly support people choosing vegetarianism, and also enjoy cooking for vegetarians, for me, the simplest path to a meal includes meat. Perhaps when I am less depressed I will work on options.

A lot of recipes focus on achieving food that is in some way special, using special techniques, or using a precise list of carefully measured high-end ingredients... and that’s not this, this is all the parts of cooking that are not those things.

First, shopping

Meats Starches Veggies Sauces Breakfast/Snack

For a whole week you’re going to want

3 kinds of meat, with five portions each. So, for example, five chicken breasts, 10 sausage links, and 2-3 pounds of ground beef. Other possibilities include pork chops, salmon, some kind of steak, whatever. 

You’re going to want up to 3 starches. Honestly I usually stick to just rice, but you can go with rice, potatoes, and pasta. If you want to use quinoa or polenta or something, thats on you.

And, you’re going to want about 3 types of vegetables, again, about 5 portions each -- and try to stay green. So personally, I usually get 5 medium zucchini, 2 medium heads of broccoli, and then either yellow squash or mushrooms. A bag of salad greens is also a good option, and I have an easy way to make a good salad, which I will do as a separate post.

Next pick something easy that works as either breakfast or a snack. For me this is a loaf of bread, a jar of peanut butter, and a bunch of bananas. Sometimes it’s nice to have an additional option here, like cereal or yogurt. 

Last, you’ll want 2-5 sauces in bottles. I would definitely recommend a low sodium soy sauce be one of them, and maybe a BBQ sauce for the other. I usually also include worcestershire and sriracha but go with whatever you want, teriyaki sauce, A1, whatever you know you’ll eat. Hell, you can use Italian style salad dressing as a cookable sauce if you really want.

Oh, and If you don’t already have some at the house, you’ll need pan lube: butter and/or some kind of cooking oil. 

Okay! we’re done shopping! Affordability isn’t the main focus here, but is undeniably important -- I live in a very expensive area, this shopping trip is going to feed me well for a week and costs me about $100 bucks. When I was living in Alabama, it probably would have cost me more like $70. You won’t need to get stuff like the sauce and rice and peanut butter every week, so you’re definitely looking at a monthly grocery bill of something like $300 depending on where you live, and that’s not too bad. 

Prep

hell no, I’m depressed, the only prep I’m doing is putting two packages of meat in the freezer and the rest of this stuff in the fridge. You CAN box or bag each portion of meat separately so you can really alternate what you eat -- me, I’m gonna eat chicken for two or three days, then beef for two or three days, etc.

and listen, don’t fuck around with microwave settings or running water on things to defrost them. If you package the meat all up separately, just move a portion from the freezer to the fridge each time you cook dinner. Or, if you do like me, move the whole package when you go to cook your last portion of the previous stuff, and just deal with the fact that it will probably still be a tiny bit frozen when you go to cook next.

Tip: When you cook dinner, you’re going to make enough for lunch. That just leaves you one small meal - I often smear peanut butter on a peice of bread and wrap it around a banana like a taco - fast, easy, practically no dishes, relatively healthy

____________________________________________________________

Cooking (this is going to take about 25 minutes)

You’re going to need

ONE frying pan, medium size w/ lid ONE boil pot, medium size w/ lid knife, a spatula and a cutting board.

If you want to be fancy, you can include a big spoon. Looks like this

No matter what the specific ingredients you’ve chosen, the basic format is going to be:

Start your starch heat pan, put meat in the pan flip meat and add veggies, cover with lid remove meat and add sauce finish starch put everything on a plate while it is still too hot to eat and you are standing in the kitchen anyway, wash the like, 4 dishes you’ve gotten dirty. eat.

Okay, before you even get everything else out, start your starch. For rice this means rinse the rice and put it in the cold water and set it on high heat, for pasta this means put your salted water on the stove on high heat. For potatoes, you can use my perfect mashed potatoes recipe (I’ll do that as a separate post) or, honestly, you can wait until you’re halfway done with the rest of everything and microwave the sucker for like 8 minutes. I would never do that in a restaurant, but trying to feed my lethargic depressed ass? Absolutely.

easy rice: Fill your smallest coffee cup with rice, put it in the pot. Rinse. Fill the same cup twice with water, add to rice. Bring to a boil, give a good stir, turn heat all the way down, put a lid on it for something like 15 more minutes.

Okay, now lube your pan. Butter, olive oil, whatever. You’re probably looking at an amount more than a teaspoon and less than a table spoon of whichever you use. Personally I try to use as little olive oil as possible, so I pour a large coin sized amount (a quarter in the U.S.) into the pan, ear off a piece of the paper towel I’m going to use as my napkin for the evening, fold it up tight, and sort of paint the oil around so a little goes a longer way.

Pan lubed? Great, turn your burner on. highest heat will work but is not ideal, medium heat will work better but is still not ideal. Halfway between the two is perfect for chicken, a little hotter for beef, a little lower for fish.

Now remove two portions of your chosen protein (that way you’ll have tomorrow’s lunch too). By the time you get the packaging open and stuff, your pan is probably hot. If it’s not, let it get hot. You don’t want the oil to start smoking (warning, butter will burn faster than oil) but if you shake a single drop of water off your finger into the pan, you want it to sizzle.

If your pan is hot, put your meat in. The more you do this, the more you’ll perfect the timing, but you’re going to cook it for ~about~ 7 minutes before you flip it, maybe a couple minutes longer if it’s chicken or pork, maybe a couple minutes less if it’s beef.

Now that your meat is in, prepare your veggie. Rinse it off, cut off any part of it you don’t want to eat, and then cut what’s left into pieces the size of a large bite. Don’t worry, it’s going to get a little smaller when you cook it. Take your time, you’ll probably finish in less time than the meat needs.

Time to flip your meat? Great. Do that, and then dump your chopped up veggie in the pan. It does not matter at all if the pieces are not touching the bottom of the pan -probably most of them will not be, a bunch will be on top of the meat, that’s fine.

Put a lid on it. Now add your pasta to the water, or put your potato in the microwave, or check your rice. If following my perfect mashed potato recipe, mash now.

Rice tip, checking: eat a grain, you want zero crunch. If it’s not done and there’s no liquid, add a splash of water and stir. It it’s done or close to done, but it is still very wet, give it a big stir and leave on the stove with the lid off for a couple minutes.

Your meat still has like, at least 4 minutes, so rinse off your cutting board and chef knife, get out a plate, table knife and fork.

 Meat done? Great. Take the meat out of the pan, leaving the veggies in. Add sauce to the pan. I like to also use a little wine, because it’s usually already in the house, if you have some and want to, pour a large swallow of wine in the pan with the sauce. I’ll often mix a couple sauces, like worcestershire and soy (makes something similar to teriyaki) or hot sauce and BBQ

Stir the sauce around with the veggies. This, called deglazing, is an important step for two reasons, 1: it will get up a lot of the flavorful stuff that has stuck to the pan and make your sauce better, and 2: it will make washing the pan much easier. Okay, put the lid back on for one to two minutes, maybe stir a couple times. Basically you want the sauce to stain the veggies.

Your starch should be done, turn off the burner, put a portion on your plate, and stick the rest in a ziplock or tupperware or something. Go ahead and throw the second portion of meat right in there with it. 

Turn off the stove and scoop the veggies onto the plate, and pour the sauce from the pan over everything.

Now, while it’s too hot to eat, and you’re standing in the kitchen anyway, wash the pot, pan, and spatula. It should be very easy because of the way you used the sauce and because nothing has had a chance to harden. This usually takes me about 2 full minutes.

__________________________________________________________

OKAY! it’s been 20-25 minutes, you’ve got dinner and tomorrow’s lunch (just add another cut up veggie, pour a different sauce on, and put it in the microwave for two or three minutes) AND there’s no danger of dishes piling up on you :) You can even add “washing last night’s plate and fork for use tonight” to where you rinse the cutting board to really keep it full circle.

It’s not gormet. It IS accessibly healthy, affordable, and easy.

If you are extra depressed, forget the starch and use more veggies; this cuts what little work there is by up to half

Using this format, you can have three good meals per day and only spend 30 total minutes a day in the kitchen — including clean up! (dishes piling up tends to exacerbate my depression and makes cooking your next meal harder)

And it’s easy to give yourself a wide variety, from soy glazed chicken, zucchini and rice one night; to steak, mushrooms and pasta the next; followed by BBQ pork chops, brocoli and potatoes... I suck at math but there’s probably a hundred options

Just to recap, because I know I was very detailed and this might seem overwhelming, once you read through the above to answer any questions you might have, simply

-Start your starch -lube & heat pan, put meat in the pan, about 7 minutes -flip meat, add veggies, lid, about 7 minutes -wash knife and cutting board -remove meat and add sauce to veggies, re-lid, 1-2 minutes -finish starch, refrigerate extra meat and starch  -put everything left on a plate -wash pot and pan -eat.

[fruitcoops]

Remus gets injured in a game. I have literally read everything you have written but i'm not sure if you have wrote one like this. If you have, ANOTHER PLZZ

Hello anon! I wove this together with a couple different prompts, listed below:

1. Coops argument

2. Prompt 21: “You need to eat something”

3. Remus gets in a fight with Snape

4. Protective Sirius

5. Coops going home grumpy after losing a game (see link)

Sweater Weather credit goes to @lumosinlove! TW for fights, blood, bruises, arguments, and someone getting called a wh*re

Snape’s cheek gave easily beneath Remus’ fist, which was a tad bit surprising. He wrapped his other hand in the neckline of his jersey, yanking him back in to land another punch to the side of his head—that would leave a nasty bruise in the morning. Stars sparkled in his vision as Snape got a lucky shot in and he doubled down, ignoring the thin line of pain that trickled down his chin.

“Break it up, boys, that’s enough!” The referee’s whistle blew as he and another pried Remus’ hands off Snape’s jersey; someone took him by the shoulders and pushed him away from the fight. Pots.

“Say it again!” Remus shouted at Snape as the refs and their teammates continued pulling them apart. “Say it again and I’ll knock your fucking teeth in!”

James’ hold on him faltered for a second as another person skated over and tried to join the melee. “Cap, no!”

“Move, Pots.”

“Loops won the fight, it’s done. Let’s just keep playing.” James shoved both their chests hard enough to send them back a few inches, but Remus’ blood boiled as he ground his mouthguard between his teeth. He glanced up at the clock—3:16 left in the third, Snakes up by two. Their win was almost guaranteed and Snape was still pulling this bullshit.

He skated quickly over to the bench and mumbled his thanks to Hestia as she pressed some gauze to his lip and ice to his cheek. “Lupin, you’re in for the rest of the game,” Coach Weasley said, tapping him on the arm with his playboard. “Anything broken?”

“No, Coach.”

“Then get your ass back out on the ice and score some points. We need some speed.”

He could feel the fury rolling off Sirius as they wove through the Snakes’ defense, shooting again and again to no avail. Frustration built up in every nerve—he was worried about the win, of course, but mostly he was pissed. Pissed at Snape, pissed at James for pushing him, and pissed at Sirius for butting into the fight.

Remus scored a final goal just as the buzzer sounded. Hissing filled the stadium, even though it was a home game. Snape smirked at him as he skated past and the only thing keeping him from dragging him right back in by his greasy hair was the possible suspension.

The shower was cold, because of course the fucking shower was cold. Remus shoved his stuff in his duffel and waited outside the locker room, silently fist bumping the guys as they left. God, he hated losing games. It was inevitable, but it always felt shitty.

“How’s the lip?” Sirius asked when he finally came out, bag slung over his shoulder.

“Fine. What the fuck was that?”

“What was what?”

“You butted into my fight. Nobody asked you to.”

Sirius’ eyebrows rose. “Re, he called you—”

“Yeah, I know what he called me,” Remus snapped, practically slamming the door to the parking lot closed. “I was there.”

The only reason you’re on this team is because you’re the captain’s whore, Snape had sneered. He bit the inside of his cheek as his anger flared at the memory. “I was just trying to help,” Sirius grumbled.

“Well, you didn’t. You proved his fucking point.”

“I didn’t prove shit!” Sirius scoffed as they got in the car. Immediately, Remus felt claustrophobic.

“I had it handled, Sirius!”

“You’re still bleeding!”

Remus ran his tongue along his lip—sure enough, the salty tang of blood filled his mouth. He swore under his breath and held his sleeve to his lip; his cheekbone throbbed and he knew it would be swollen in mere hours.

“Here.”

“I don’t need that.”

“You’d rather stain your sleeve than accept a tissue from me?”

“It’s a black sweatshirt, it’s fine.” Sirius muttered something. “Care to share with the class?”

Sirius sighed as he turned off the freeway. “I said it was your idea to keep these here in the first place. I don’t know why you’re being all pissy with me. We’ve lost games before.”

“I’m pissed because you don’t think I can handle myself in a fight.”

Sirius took his eyes off the road for a half second in shock. “Excuse me? Why do you think that?”

“I just told you!” Remus said, exasperated. “Snape was being a dick, so I punched him. I didn’t need your hero complex to swoop in and save the day.”

“Re, I didn’t even get a hand on him. Pots—”

“Oh, I’m pissed at him as well,” Remus snorted, staring out the passenger window at the blurry lights against the dark. “If someone calls me a whore, I’d rather get the message across that they can’t do it again.”

“Would you rather have gotten a penalty?”

“Yes.”

“That is unbelievably selfish.”

Remus laughed without humor. “Y’know, it’s really funny that you’ve never had this conversation with Logan, the king of the penalty box. Is it because he’s not a delicate flower like me?”

“Wh—” Sirius clenched his jaw and took a deep breath. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, Remus. I have never seen you as a—a delicate flower. For your information, I have chewed Logan out on multiple occasions.”

Remus gritted his teeth and trained his gaze firmly out the window. He heard Sirius sigh next to him and it took every ounce of willpower to keep his composure. The next ten minutes were dead silent and deeply uncomfortable, which was a rarity with them; even after losses, they would talk through the errors or try to lighten the mood.

Both of them closed their doors a little harder than necessary when they got to the house and Hattie trotted over hesitantly when they came inside. “Hey, Hatters,” Remus murmured, crouching down to her level and holding a hand out. She licked his cheek and let him bury his face in her thick fur—Sirius scratched her ears as he walked past. “Did you have a good time while we were out? Huh, baby girl?” He looked up and saw the tail end of Sirius’ eye roll. “What?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Sirius, it doesn’t work. I’m giving the dog a hug because I’m still pissed at you.”

“There is literally no good reason for you to be pissed at me!” Sirius finally said, tossing his keys into the bowl by the door. “Holy shit, Re, I don’t even think you’re mad at me!”

“Oh, yeah? Then who am I mad at, oh great and wise captain?” Remus practically spat, shouldering past him into the kitchen and wrenching a cabinet open. “Please enlighten me.”

“I wish I knew!”

Remus slammed the bread down on the counter and glared at him. “Then maybe you should shut the fuck up if you don’t have anything to support your claim.”

“Acting like this is a goddamn debate club isn’t helping. Your lip is bleeding again.”

“Fuck.” Remus ripped a paper towel off the roll and dampened it, holding it to his lip with a wince. Sirius opened the freezer and dug around for a moment with another paper towel. “I don’t remember you getting hit.”

“This is for you, you stubborn fucker,” Sirius said as he walked over and pressed it gently to the side of Remus’ face. “Better?”

“…a bit.”

The tension on Sirius’ face began to fade; he just looked concerned as he pulled the ice away and checked the bruise. “Your eye might swell.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you actually want to talk now, or should we yell a little more?”

Remus sighed and felt his anger abate. He was beyond exhausted, and still upset, but having Sirius nearby was like balm on a burn. “I don’t know.”

“I’m going to make some sandwiches. Hold this.” Sirius tapped the ice towel and moved to the abandoned loaf, grabbing some peanut butter and jelly as he went.

“I’m not hungry.”

“You need to eat something.”

“I’m fine.”

Sirius glanced over his shoulder and gave him a look. “I know you, Re. You’re not going to feel better unless you get some food, and neither will I.”

“I hate it when you’re reasonable.”

“No, you don’t.”

Remus’ lack of response was enough of an answer. The pain stretched to his forehead and he grimaced, prodding his lip cautiously. Sirius whistled for Hattie and spread the leftover peanut butter from the knife onto a clean spoon, holding it down for her to lick. A smile tugged the corner of Remus’ mouth. “Cute.”

“I can be cute on occasion.”

“You’re always cute.” There was a beat of quiet. “I’m sorry.”

“You’re forgiven. I’m sorry for yelling.”

“Not for interrupting the fight?”

“Nope.”

“That’s fair.” Something tickled at the back of Remus’ throat. “I fucking hate Snape.”

“Me, too.”

“Surprisingly enough, it feels pretty shitty to be called a whore. Who would’ve thought?”

Sirius turned and faced him, sleeves rolled to his elbows. His eyes were soft. “You know that’s not true, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Remus. What he said wasn’t true. You have nothing to prove to anyone on the team, least of all to me. You earned that spot on the roster fair and square, and Snape’s just freaked out because there’s another player who could grind him into the dust without breaking a sweat.” He stepped closer and leaned on the counter next to Remus, leaving a few inches between them. “I don’t think you’re a whore, if that means anything.”

Remus laughed softly. “Of all the people out there, I think you’re the only one who could reliably make that assumption.”

Sirius didn’t smile. “You’re my best friend and also my fiancé. The sex is a great bonus, but my favorite part of being with you is just being with you.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Remus muttered, though the sharp edges began to smooth in his gut. He closed the distance between them and laid his head on Sirius’ shoulder. “Love you.”

“I love you, too. Can I take a look at your lip?”

“Sure.” Remus peeled the towel away and Sirius bent slightly, poking the area around it. “Ouch.”

“That’ll probably take a week or so to heal. He got you good.”

Remus pouted. “No kisses for a week?”

Sirius did laugh that time, bright and sunny enough that Remus nearly made his lip bleed again with the answering smile. “I said nothing about no kisses.” Warm lips trailed from his unbruised cheekbone to the edge of his mouth, leaving tiny tingles in their wake.

“I really am sorry about what I said. You were right, I wasn’t angry with you, and I had no right to go off like that.”

Sirius shrugged. “It happens.”

“It shouldn’t.”

“Then let’s agree to talk first, bite heads off later, okay?” He held his pinky out and Remus linked it with his own, kissing it quickly.

“Deal. Are the sandwiches done? I’m starving.”

Wordlessly, Sirius handed him a sandwich and hopped up to sit on the counter, scooting over to make room for Remus to join him. They ate quietly, swinging their legs as the calmness of the kitchen crept back in once more.

[janicho88]

Falling For You -Part 4

December

Pairing-Eventual Dean x Female!Reader

Word count- 6071

Warning- Slight angst, jealousy, one or two swear words,  fluff.  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  Thank you to @waywardbeanie and @whatareyousearchingfordean​  for helping me keep these 2 characters in line and letting me bounce ideas off of you.

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

Your parents Christmas party was two weeks away, but you had a lot of baking to do, and none of it was started.  Why did you procrastinate?  Oh yeah, not much freezer room here when they are finished, and you had been hanging out with Dean.  Coming home from work on Monday, you got a quick workout in before planning to spend the evening in the kitchen. 

 Recipes out, and ingredients spread on the counter you started working on your first cookie.  Tonight you decided, was peanut butter night, which meant making the dough for peanut butter blossoms first, it would sit overnight and cook tomorrow while you were mixing other dough.  Santa’s peanut butter cookie bars, and the last item of the night no bakes.

While working on the cookie bars there was a knock on your door which had you pausing to answer it. Hands a little sticky you answered the door as best you could. 

“Hey Dean.”

“Hi Y/N, um, you got a little something here, and a here.”  He pointed to one side of your face and then your forehead.  Wiping it off with your hands you made a bigger mess.  

“Moved out almost a week and you forgot where Sam lives already?”  You teased him letting him into your apartment.  

“No, I came over to see if you would like to grab some food with me.  I think you might be a little busy though.”

“Yeah, I’m working on deserts for the Christmas party at my parents in two weeks.  Your invitation should be coming any day, I hope you, your brother and Jess can come.  I know Cas and Meg will be there too.  I was in the middle of baking, but you are welcome to hang out if you want.”

“I got it today actually, I’ll be there.  Have you eaten?”

“No, I haven’t thought about it yet.”

“Alright, so let's order a pizza, and I’ll help with quantity control in the kitchen.”

“I won’t have much for you to control tonight, but pizza sounds good.”

While the bar was cooking you got everything ready for the no bakes, deciding to start them after the pizza arrived.  Eating at the counter next to Dean, he told you about the shop he was working in.  He really liked Bobby, said he was an old grump on the outside but a teddy bear underneath.  Bobby’s wife Ellen  helped with the book keeping some days, she also owned a bar a little outside of town.  He invited you to go with him, Sam and Jess to check it out sometime. Benny and he got along well, he also ran the kitchen at the bar in the evenings.

Santa’s peanut butter bars came out as you were waiting for your no-bake ingredients to boil.  Dean went to cut a piece after you had set it down.

“You know that’s going to be extremely hot right?”

“It will cool in a minute, everything is better right out of the oven.”  Shaking your head you went back to stirring your pot. “Oh that was good,” came from Dean a few minutes later.  “When did you start baking?”

“My mom used to do it all, I’d help with what I could when I was little.  Dumping in the ingredients she already measured, or stirring the batter after she mixed it.  When you’re a kid you think you are so much help.  Then we started doing it together as I got older, I learned from her.  Over time I’ve found some of my own recipes to make, or put my spin on others.  The last couple of years I’ve taken on most of the party baking, but there are one or two things we will make together for it.”

“You’ve got a real talent for it.”

“Thank you, but you don’t have to humor me.”  

Dean wasn’t sure what to say to that, just looking at the back of your head while you were stirring. “It can be a great stress relief too when I’m frustrated with someone or something. It also forces me to find time for the gym.”  You continued on not noticing his pause. 

You had made a double batch of no-bakes and when they were ready, had talked Dean into helping you spoon them out.  As the pot they were in cooled down Dean stuck a finger in the still soft cookie batter before putting it in his mouth.

“Dean, what are you doing?” Trying to keep a stern face as you looked at him. 

“Oh, I’m sorry did you want a taste?”  He dipped another finger and spread it over your lips before tapping your nose.  Neither of you moving, eyes locked on one another before Dean’s ringing phone broke you apart.  He went into the living room to take the call, while you wiped off your face and tried to figure out what that was between you.  Nothing, right?  You guys were just friends, neither of you wanted more, you were seeing things that weren’t there.

“That was Bobby, I have to go.  There is a late delivery coming into the shop he was expecting in the morning and he isn’t there to let them in.  You um, doing anything this week, or weekend?” He seemed a little more hesitant when he asked that.

“You’re looking at it.  Maybe some cleaning and decorating I’m a little behind on it.”

“You need any help?”

“I don’t know about help, but I’ll always take the company if you want.”

“Okay, I’ll see you sometime this week.  Night Y/N.”

“Night Dean,” locking up after him you let your thoughts drift to the green eyed man causing you so much confusion.  Two months ago you both wanted to avoid relationships, you still didn’t think you were ready to get back out there.  You really didn’t want to misread anything from him and scare him away either.    

It was Friday night before you saw Dean again, a knock coming just after 5:30.  This time he appeared at your door with beer, and burgers. 

“Hi, you didn’t have to bring food.”

“Did you eat?”

“No, not yet.”

“Did you have anything here to eat?”

“I probably could have figured out something.” 

“Yeah, the burgers were needed. This way more time to work on whatever tonight's project is.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it.  Tonight's goal is frosting the sugar cookies I baked yesterday, making the frosting topping for the Cranberry Bliss bar, and the cake for the petit fours.”

“I’m not sure which question to ask first.  I’m going to go with what the hell is a petty four?”

Not able to hide a smile and small chuckle you looked at him as you handed him a plate for his burger and fries.  “Petit four, ever seen those small cake looking things that are like an inch or smaller, decorated fancy?”

“Maybe?  I pay more attention to the pie.  Speaking of, are you making any of those?”

“Not exactly, I have cherry pie cookie cups. Petit fours are a type of cake with layers of frosting and I also do a fruit filling in mine too.”

“Sounds complicated, but back to where are these cookie pies?  I think I need to check them for you.”

“Sorry, I was out of freezer room here, they already went to my parent’s freezer.  And yes, they are complicated.  I’ll make the cake today, then it has to cool and slightly freeze,  the filling, frosting and glaze will get made this weekend and then put all together.”

“I don’t have that kinda patience. Next question, what are you going to do with all this?”

“It’s a big party, we go through a lot then.  It will go back in the freezer after, and the week leading up to Christmas we’ll get it back out and make up trays to give away to friends, business we deal with, and have some left over for Christmas.”

“What does one have to do to get on this list, sweetheart?”

“Don’t worry, I’m sure one will find its way to your door. 

“What all is on your party list?”

“The things from Monday, and tonight, buckeyes, cherry cheesecake bar, two different truffles, fudge, cranberry cookies, candies, white chocolate ginger cookies, and choc cherry brownie bites, polar bear faces and some candies.”

“Next week is helping mom clean, with any last minute decorations she hasn’t done, then food Thursday and Friday night. Saturday is the party, Sunday I might not get out of bed.”

Dean laughed at that, “I never said I was joking Winchester.”

“Alright, alright so what are we doing first?”

“You really want to help me?  You are welcome to turn on the television and just hang out.”

“Nope, I’m here to bake sweetheart.”

You offered to let him pick something on tv, but he declined so you turned on Hallmark Christmas movies to help you both get in the Christmas spirit.  Dean helped you put together the cake for the petit fours, so that could get cooking first.  Frosting sugar cookies was next, you had done a few cut outs, but you preferred plain old circles.  It saved time and could be decorated any way.  The frosting colors were always tied in to that year's decoration colors.  This year was blue, white and silver, unfortunately you hadn’t found a silver paste coloring yet.  You were going to make three different shades of blues and a simple white. The powdered sugar needed to be shifted still to help keep the frosting smoother. You gave that job to Dean while you got the rest of the ingredients ready.

“Oops,”  you heard from behind you.  Turning around Dean had put too much powdered sugar in at once then apparently leaned over to see what he was doing. Now he was wearing some on his face and shirt. 

“Here,”  handing him a wet rag you helped him clean up a little. 

“Wouldn’t it be easier to use store bought?”

“Yes, but this recipe tastes better, has a better consistency for decorating with it, and dries so I can stack them without ruining the design.”

“Whatever you say Betty Crocker.”

The two of you both grabbed some cookies and started to decorate, at one point you looked up and had to look away so Dean wouldn't see your smile.  The man really likes his sprinkles apparently.  

“Wow!”  You looked up quickly to see what caused that reaction from Dean.

“What?”

“Your frosting on those, that’s like store bought good.”

Feeling the blush heat up your face you smiled at him, “Thanks, I’ve had a lot of practice over the years.  Watched a lot of decorating tips too.”

It was a lot of fun decorating the cookies with Dean, you goofed off a little and tried to “help” each other with the cookie the other was working on at that time.  That ended with some, let’s say interesting looking cookies thrown in with the others. 

“Hey Dean,” You got his attention while you headed to the sink with the last of the remaining frosting.  “I think you got a little something right here,” as you tapped him on the nose with a blue spoon quickly getting out of his reach. 

While you were standing at the sink he came up behind you and wiped his frosted nose on the shoulder of your dark green shirt.  “Dean!”  Neither of you could hold in your laughter.

The last task of the night was the frosting to the Cranberry bars.  Dean had snuck a few bits of everything tonight, but you didn’t care.  He had earned it.  This had been the most fun baking you had had in a long time.  

Neither of you had to work tomorrow and retired to the couch to watch a movie when you were all cleaned up.  The temperature had dropped this week and despite the heat being on still a little chilly in the apartment.  There was  a blanket behind Dean he grabbed before sitting next to you and tossing it over you both.  You didn’t realize as the movie went on you leaned a little closer in to Dean until he put his arm around your shoulders anchoring you close.

Dean was telling you about his week and how he met the owner’s step daughter, Jo, this week.  She had been in everyday to take care of the paper work for Ellen since she had problems at the bar to take care of.  According to Dean she was a bit of a talker, and kept coming to the back of the shop where he was working.

Oh you fool, you thought, she’s trying to flirt with you, not just talk.  “Was she just there this week?”

“Not sure, I heard her tell Bobby she would be happy to take it over if they wanted her too.”

Of course she would,  she wants to see you, went through your head, but all you said “Oh,”  You're not looking to date, you have no right to be jealous of her flirting with Dean or hanging out with him at work.  Not that he would be interested; he only wants friends right now too, but you found yourself worrying about Dean falling for her.  

Dean looked around your apartment as he was walking out, “Not much time for decorating yet?”

“I’m going to work on that tomorrow.  What about you?  How is your house coming?”

“I only had a few decorations I put up, I won’t be up here anyways.” 

“No?  Your parents aren’t coming back up?”

“No, we are heading to them.  Jess’ parents are going on a cruise that leaves the 26th so Sam and her are heading to see them before Christmas and will meet us in Kansas. I took the week of Christmas off, I’ll drive there either the 20th or 21st and come back here the 27th.   Are your parents staying in town for Christmas?

“Yep, we have it at their house every year, and my aunt should be good to travel by then.”

“That’s good, see you tomorrow.” 

“What?”  He just winked at you and shut the door.  Did you have plans you were forgetting?

Late Saturday morning while you were fighting with branches there was a knock at your door.  A bright eyed Winchester was waiting to be let in, his coffee in hand.

“I didn’t have plans today, and thought I’d give you some help.  Plus I wanted to see how the petty things went together.”  He looked at the corner where you had been working, “What is that mess?”

“That’s my tree, thank you very much, and it’s petit four.”

“You know real is the way to go.”

“Says the man with no tree.  Maybe it is, except when you live alone, and would have to water it and check it everyday and you have an allergy to the branches making you break out in red itchy spots.”

“Okay, you win.”

Dean helped you get the tree together and put the ornaments up.  When you finished with that you got the petit fours out to finish. Dean watched you adding layers to the bottom half of the cake, then put the top half on doing the same, helping when he could.

“Getting the glaze on is the hardest part, mine never look as good as ones you can get in a store.”

“I think they look awesome, if I tried these mine wouldn’t be half as good.”

You had ingredients in your cupboard for pasta so you started that inviting Dean to stay for dinner.  The night ended much like the last with the two of you side by side watching a movie on the couch.

The next week was pretty busy for you helping at your parents, it went fairly quickly though.  Usually during the week you will talk to Dean a few times and text almost everyday, even if it’s just sending the other a funny picture.  This week you hadn’t heard from him at all.  Guess he was too busy at work with Jo. 

The party had been going on for an hour and you still hadn’t seen Dean yet.  Sam, Jess, Cas and Meg had all arrived half an hour ago.  

It was thirty minutes later when Dean finally arrived. Finding his brother and friend first he said hello to them before looking for you.  Finally spotting you talking to a group of people, he hung out behind you for a few minutes before a woman looked up at him and said hello.  This had you turning around.

“Hello Dean, so glad you could finally make it.”  Was it chilly in here or just your voice.

“Oh, you’re Dean!”  Exclaimed the woman who first spotted him.

“Yeah, that’s me,”  he gave her a small smile.

The woman looked to you before going back to Dean, “It’s nice to finally meet you, it seems like my daughter has forgotten her manners. I'll introduce myself, I’m Alicia. It's nice to meet you. Y/N said you had helped her with the baking last week.  I have to say you two make a great team, thank you for helping her.”  She glanced over at you looking at the floor, “I need to go check the food, I’m sure I’ll see you around, Dean.”

“Sorry I’m late, I got called back into work.”

“The shop closes at one on Saturday’s, it’s 8:30 now. Did you walk home and then here?”

“No, Jo was trying to finish up paperwork for November that had to be sent in today.  She called me in to explain some of the notes, and expenses.  Bobby and Ellen were out of town today so she couldn’t ask them.  It took awhile and she wanted to grab dinner, I told her I had a party to be at, but she kept pushing and I went with her for one drink.”

“It’s fine Dean, nothing said you had to be here when it started, or stay the whole time.  Have fun, your brother and Cas are around here somewhere.  I need to go check the dessert table.”  

Turning and quickly walking away, Dean was too caught off guard by your distance to follow right away.  You had never given him the cold shoulder like that, he didn’t like it.  By the time he caught up to you again, someone else had pulled you into conversation.  Waiting a few minutes for you to finish, finally deciding to go find Sam and the rest of that group when you didn’t.  He was fairly certain you were upset with him, and that didn’t sit well at all.

He passed by the food set up in the dining room, and kept going.  As much as he was starving when he got here, he seemed to have lost his appetite now.  Meg and Jess were gone when he rejoined the guys.  He pretended to listen to their conversation, but he wasn’t really there.  Why were you so mad, was it because he was late, or did something else happen?  Why did you care when he showed up, there were numerous other people here.  His original plan was to come early and see if you needed help, but going over paperwork with Jo took much longer than expected.  She couldn’t seem to concentrate on her work.   

Excusing yourself from the family friend who cornered you , you made your way to your old room.  Needing a few minutes of alone time to calm yourself down.  You were jealous, but no way would you admit that to anyone else.  Your door opened minutes after you shut it, looking up Jess and Meg walked in sitting across from you on the bed.  

“Partied out already, or hiding from someone?”  Meg gave you a knowing look waiting for your answer.  “You do know Dean is downstairs right?”

“Neither, I just needed a minute, too many people down there for me.  Yeah, I know he finally showed up, not that I care”

“Liar,”  spoke up Jess.

“The two of us are completely sure you being up here has nothing to do with a green eyed bowlegged mechanic you have been looking for all night.”

“Nope, not at all. Why should I care if he spent the evening helping the boss’ daughter do paperwork, or that he took her out for dinner.”  Staring at your friends you didn’t say anything else. 

“Yep you're just fine,”  when you didn’t say anything else Meg continued, “know we are here whenever you want to talk about whatever is going on in your head.”

You all rejoined the party.  This was always one of your favorite nights as much as you were looking forward to having Dean here tonight, you weren’t up to seeing him right now.  You had caught up with your friends on and off the rest of the night.  Mostly when Dean had stepped away.  You were ready for the night to be over.

Sunday morning Dean stood outside your apartment door knocking without any answer.  The door behind him opened but he didn’t realize it until hearing a voice he knew well.

“You know I live in 43 right?”

“Yes, bitch, I do.  Y/N lives in 44.  She was off last night and I wanted to talk to her.  Picked up breakfast on the way over so she wouldn’t have to make anything.  But if she doesn’t open the door I can’t give it to her.”

“Jerk, It’s still a bit early, did you text her?”

“Yeah, but she didn’t respond.”

“You’re welcome to wait for her in here if you want to try again in a bit.”  After knocking again, he followed Sam inside.

Rolling over in bed, you reached over petting the dog laying next to you.  You missed having a dog around, but your apartment wasn’t pet friendly.  Grabbing a sweatshirt you made your way downstairs to see what your parents were up to.  You had decided to spend last night in your old room so you would be here to help with any more clean up this morning.  It was a good hour later when it finally dawned on you that you hadn’t checked your phone this morning.  Picking it you realized the battery died, and you didn’t bring a charger.  You were the only one without an iPhone so their chargers wouldn’t work on yours.  That will have to wait till I get home later.

Getting off the elevator later that afternoon you ran into Sam.  “Hey, Dean was looking for you earlier, but you never answered your door.  He waited for awhile, but had to get going.”

“I stayed at my parent’s last night, and didn’t take a charger for my phone.  Thank you guys for coming last night.”

“It was fun, thanks for inviting us.  When your phone has a charge, text Dean back, he has texted me a few times since he left asking if I’ve seen you.”

“Alright, talk to you later Sam.”

When your phone finally had some life you sent Dean a text apologizing for missing him when you weren’t home.

“Can I come over?” Dean texted back.

You had to debate with yourself whether you wanted him to or not.  He had done a lot to help you last week, and been a much needed friend.  Did he really deserve the cold shoulder because you were jealous?  You texted back ‘If you want.’

Fifteen minutes later there was a knock on the door, putting on a smile you let Dean in.  Maybe you could pretend your behavior last night didn’t happen. 

“Hi Dean.”

“Hey Y/N, thanks for letting me come over.”

“Not a problem, how was your day?”

“Alright, a little worried my friend is mad at me, and I really want to fix that. I’m sorry I was so late.  I was actually going to come early and see if you needed help, I’m sorry work got in the way.  I tried to bring you breakfast this morning so you wouldn’t have to get out of bed and mess with anything this morning.”

Guess he wasn’t going to go along with your plan to pretend it didn’t happen. “I’m sorry Dean, I shouldn’t have gotten that upset.  You didn’t have to be there right at 7, I was excited to have you there last night and it shouldn’t have mattered when you came. I should have enjoyed having you there when you arrived.  I ruined it for both of us, I’m sorry. Sorry, I missed breakfast with you this morning.”

“It’s okay, I just really don’t want to lose my friend.  If you really wanted to make it up to me, go shopping with me tomorrow night?  I need some help with Jess and Mom, please?” He gave you the best puppy dog eyes he could muster. 

“Sure, I still have a bit to do also.”  Dean had been the best thing to happen to you in awhile, you didn’t want to lose him either.  Hopefully a night at the mall could help things go back to the way they were. “Pick me up after work?”

“I’d be happy to.”

“Have you eaten dinner yet? I have leftovers from the party if you want to stay for dinner?”

“Seriously? Yes, I  didn’t end up getting anything last night.”

Both of you worked in the morning, so instead of starting a movie after dinner you just turned a tv show on.  Tonight you two didn’t sit as close as you previously did, honestly you missed it. You made small talk, he asked how things were at your parents’ house.  You told him everything cleaned up fairly quick, staying there made you miss having your dog around. 

Snow was lightly falling on the way to the mall, you were hoping for a white Christmas. Dean asked about your day, not much happened for you at work.  He was telling you about a classic car that just came in he was working on.  He really enjoyed his job, his green eyes shining as he talked about the different parts that needed restoring.

Arriving at the mall it became clear Dean really didn’t have any ideas on what to get either woman, so you offered various suggestions in the stores you were in.  Finally getting Jess done, Dean picked up a scarf you knew she wanted, and some fun picture frames to go on her collage wall.  His mom was proving trickier.  

“Any hobbies?” you asked, leaving the 6th different store. 

Dean thought for a moment, “She does like horror movies.”

“Yeah, I’m coming to realize you are all obsessed with monsters.  How about not for Christmas. Any place she mentioned she would want to go?”

He thought for a few minutes “Actually I heard her talking to Jess about a new place that opened up in town.”  When Dean finished telling you about you pulled out your phone to see if you could google it.  Finding what you needed you explained your idea to Dean and what you could get up here and what he would need to get once he was back in Kansas. 

With that  accomplished you two wandered around a few more stores looking for items to fill the rest of your lists.

Thursday was the next time you saw Dean, running into him in the apartments’ parking lot.  He was on his way to meet Sam for something.  Making small talk in the elevator, without thinking you asked something you didn’t really want to know.

“How’s Jo been?”

Dean gave you a funny look, “I don’t really know,  she hasn't been in the shop the last couple days.”

“Oh, I thought you might talk to her outside of work.”  What are you doing Y/N, do you really want to know this.  

“No. I don’t really have a reason to need to talk to the boss’s daughter outside of work.”

“Okay.  I have something in my apartment for you, I meant to drop off.  If you have time stop over before you leave.”

“Is it pie?”

“Sorry, not this time.”

When you got inside your apartment you went to check and see what ingredients you had in your cupboard. Finding pecans and a pack of crescent rolls you decided to whip up something quick.  A little over an hour later you heard a knock at your door.  Inviting Dean in you walked back over to the kitchen where the timer was going off.

“Something smells amazing.”

“I didn’t have any fruit to make a regular pie filling, but I did have some pecans I never used for the party, I made you a pecan pie bar, I hope it’s okay.”  You could almost see Dean’s mouth start to water.  “I’ll get you a fork and plate.”

“I don’t need a plate, the pan is fine.”

While Dean was eating you grabbed the item you picked up for him from the spare room.

“I know you don’t have a tree because you won’t be here for Christmas, but I thought you needed something.  Even if it’s not real.”  You had picked him up a little prelit tree and decorated it to have in his house.  

“It’s great, thanks Y/N.  You didn’t have to do that though.”  Dean gave you a hug as you set it down next to the pan of bars. 

“I know, I wanted to.  You can set it on that skinny table you have and set the presents underneath it after you wrap them.”

“Oh, that’s right I have to wrap them.  Hey sweetheart, do you think you might come over one night and help me with…”

“Seriously Winchester?  How would you ever make it without me, do you even have paper?” Laughing you agreed to come over Saturday and wrap what he had.  

“Of course I do.”

Knowing you were just hanging around the house and wrapping presents you put on yoga pants and a baggy sweatshirt to head to Dean’s knowing he would be hanging out in sweats by now too.  Sure enough he answered the door in a grey henley and black sweats.  The fireplace was on in the living room and with the presents and wrapping paper on the coffee table.  Dean ordered pizza and found Die Hard on tv.  He was sitting on the couch watching you work, when you looked up at him.

“Are you planning on helping me at all or just watching?”

“Which answer won’t get me in trouble?” The bitch face you sent his way might rival Sam’s.  “I was kidding, I was just watching how you do it.  Very nice wrapping by the way.”  The roll of wrapping paper flying at him barely missed his arm. 

Two presents into Dean wrapping, you knew why he wanted help.  When the pizza arrived you set him free. Finishing the last gift you leaned back against the couch rolling your shoulders to loosen them up after being hunched over.  Dean was sitting up on the couch behind you and  leaned down to rub your stiff shoulders. 

“Thanks for that.”

“Least I could do for you wrapping those.”  Before you left for the night you put the gifts under his tree best you could.

You spent the next week trying to catch up with your own Christmas shopping, get the cards in the mail, and trying to find time to just enjoy the Holidays.  Friday night you, Charlie, Meg and Jess donned your best ugly sweaters and leggings, spending the evening at your place vegging out and watching movies.  

You woke up early Saturday morning to head to Dean’s house before he left. Knocking on his door he was surprised to see you.

“I just wanted to stop over before you left.  I brought you some of the desserts to take to your parents house.”  You had given Dean a plate of them the weekend before when you came over to wrap.  “I expect those to make it to Kansas so you better put them in the trunk.”

“I don’t know sweetheart, I might need a snack for the road.  Eleven hours is a long trip.”

“I figured you would, there is a bag of the cherry pie cookies in there for you.”

“You are too good to me.”  Giving you a kiss on the cheek he walked past you to put them in his car while you followed him over. 

“Do you need help doing anything before you go?”

“I’m all set, car is loaded, just have to refill the coffee in my travel mug, wash the pot and lock up the house.  

Waiting while Dean finished with his coffee you walked out to the car with him.  “Have a safe trip, and Merry Christmas.  See you when you get back.”

“Thank you sweetheart.  Thanks for your help and the cookies. Have a Merry Christmas yourself.”  With a hug you walked to your own car watching the Impala drive away. 

You were definitely going to miss him this week. A little after one that afternoon you received a text from Dean saying he was in Springfield, Illinois and halfway there, he would text you when he arrived at his parents. Around seven, that text arrived along with a picture of a house you were guessing belonged to John and Mary. The two of you talked a few times over the week, he called later than usual Tuesday night, and seemed to be really down.  

On Christmas Eve you went to Mass with your family before heading to your parents house for dinner with your grandparents, some of your parents siblings, and cousins.  Games followed and a few hours later the house cleared out.  You spent the night there since you would be having Christmas morning there with your dad’s family.  Dean had texted you a few times throughout the day, Sam arrived today so you hoped he could help his brother with whatever was going on. 

Christmas morning you sent Dean a text before helping your mom with breakfast.  Your dad’s family spent the morning at the house before heading elsewhere for the afternoon.  Your mom’s family started coming over around 2, they stayed for dinner and games.  You loved your family but were glad to have an empty house spending time with your parents when everyone was gone.

That evening you went back to your apartment.  Sitting on the couch looking at your Christmas tree you saw a big gift bag Jess had dropped off before leaving town.  She told you you couldn’t open it till Christmas, that was now right?  Grabbing it you brought it back to the couch with you. 

First you pulled out a big oddly wrapped lump, unwrapping it you found a Chocolate Lab plush.  He reminded you of your dog you had growing up. The next item was a t-shirt that had you cracking up.  In the bottom of the bag was a card.

Y/N, 

I think this goes to show what we both already knew, I can’t wrap worth a damn.  This guy reminded me of the pictures I have seen in your apartment.  He might not be able to follow you around, or bark at strangers, but hopefully he can keep you company.  I got a laugh out of the shirt and I hope you do too.    

Merry Christmas Sweetheart,

Dean

  Dean called you later that evening.

“Hi, Merry Christmas Dean.”

“Merry Christmas to you Y/N.  How was your day?”

“It was good.  Scooby and I are relaxing back home now.”

“Good, um who’s Scooby?”

“This really cute chocolate lab plush that my good friend got me.  Thank you Dean, he’s great.”

“Not a problem Sweetheart. Glad you like him, Scooby?”

“That was my dog's name growing up, I was a big Scooby Doo fan.  Still am”

He started laughing, “So was I.  Yeah, I wouldn’t rush to change the channel if it was on now either.”

 The two of you talked more about your days.   He was ready to leave, but Sam and Jess were riding back with him, and he didn’t want to pull them away yet.  Something happened while he was home, he didn’t sound like himself.  If you had to guess it was why he called you Tuesday night.  You wondered if you would find out what that was.

Part 5

Thank you for reading!

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[fluffykitty1999-blog]

Dog of the Military- Chapter 31

Chapter 31- Shopping

"Can we go to the High Market?" Ed asked hopefully as he bounced into the passenger seat of Roy's car.

"Brother. That place is crawling with sketchy people." Al admonished from where he was settling into the entire backseat of the car.

"We aren't going anywhere until you two put on your seatbelts." Roy admonished, shooting a glance over at both boys witheringly.

There was clanking from the backseat as Alphonse hurried to comply.

Ed blew out a breath and rolled his eyes.

"I don't see why I gotta wear a seat belt. My automail can't be broken. And Al's a suit of armor- nothing can hurt him!"

"No, but Alphonse could hurt us. If there was a crash and Al were to get thrown forward, we could be hurt. And you might have automail, Ed, but you're not invincible."

Ed crossed his arms. "It's stupid. Don't tell me what to do."

"Oh, so you think I'm being bossy, huh?" Roy asked.

"Ed, just put it on." Al piped up from the backseat. There was a click. Al was too large to fit the middle seat seat belt, so he had taken 2 seat belts from either side of the backseat and fastened them both over himself in an x-like fashion.

"I'm tired of old people trying to tell us what to do, Al!" Ed protested.

"It's for your own good, you know." Roy supplied patiently. "Seatbelts reduce the risk of death by 45% and cut the risk of serious injury to 50%(1). They also hold you in place so you don't get ejected in a crash. 3 of 4 people who get ejected from a vehicle don't survive(1). You wouldn't want to do that to Al, would you?"

Ed was silent.

"Remember that car crash was saw in Bresh, brother?" Al added. "We couldn't do anything to help. Everyone was gone. All we could do was cover up the mess with blankets so that the teenager's families wouldn't see them. Maybe if they'd been wearing seat belts it'd have been different."

Ed clicked his seatbelt into place. "Fine, whatever. Let's get going we have shopping to do."

Roy turned the key in the ignition and started out.

"So- does anyone want anything specific from the store?" Roy asked.

"Waffles." Ed said happily. "And soft pretzels."

"Scented candles." Al added.

"You're gonna polish yourself with that flowery smelling wax again aren't you?" Ed spoke up.

"It's the closest thing I can get to deodorant, brother." Al sounded slightly hurt.

"I know. Get some of those cucumber melon candles-I like the smell of those." Ed said quietly.

"Okay." Al brightened significantly.

"I wanna go to the High Market too." Ed piped up, looking over at Roy.

"For what?" Roy was wary. The high market sold useful things, but it was also a backdoor apothecary that sold unregulated pharmaceuticals and other odd, possibly illegal substances in the alley under the guise of traditional medicine.

"They got those cookies that have your future written inside them!" Ed looked childish with excitement.

"You need a cookie to tell you that?" Roy scoffed. "I could tell you for free. 'you will be short and miserable'."

Al sniggered from the backseat and Ed frowned. "Normally I would yell at you for that, but I wanna go to the High Market. So can we go?"

"Yes. IF you two stay close to me and we don't take long."

"Score!" Ed pumped his fist in the air, looking excited.

"What do you want to get shopping, Colonel?" Al asked.

Mustang shrugged. "Trash bags, milk, butter, eggs, bread, jam."

"Boring stuff." Ed added.

Roy pulled into the shopping center. "You say that, but I don't see you complaining when we eat dinner."

"Can we get Mac n' cheese?"

"Yes, we can get a few boxes."

"Can we get frozen burritos and ramen?"

Roy wrinkled his nose. Ever since Ed moved in with them, he'd realized the kid seemed to live off microwaved food.

"Yes, a couple. But you need to eat a vegetable every once in awhile." he got out of the car, and Ed did the same.

"Well excuse me for being too busy to go harvest nature's bounty." Ed scoffed.

"Guys!" Al called from the back, muffled by the car doors.

"What's up, Al?" Roy turned around to see Al still strapped into the back seat, his large hands struggling with the seatbelts.

"Can you unbuckle me? I'm stuck!?"

LINEBREAK LINEBREAK LINEBREAK LINEBREAK LINEBREAK

"Okay, this actually isn't so bad." Roy had his list nearly halfway completed. Ed insisted on standing on the bottom rack of the cart and holding onto the back to ride it, but Al was pushing, so Roy couldn't complain. And Al was tall enough to reach everything on the top shelf.

"Ed- name something that isn't microwaved that you'll eat."

"Peanut butter sandwhich."

"Done." Roy grabbed a jar of peanut butter off the shelf and tossed it into the cart.

"Fruits and vegetables you like?"

"Fruitsnacks!" Ed looked excited, pointing at a large box. "Those are the best, Mom used to get those for me!"

"Yeah I remember those." Al sounded excited as well.

It melted Roy's resolve. Just a little. He picked up the box. It said it was amde with real fruit juice. That was close enough to a fruit, wasn't it? If Trisha Elric had bought them for the boys, they couldn't be horrible.

"Okay. Fine. But REAL fruits, now."

"I don't have time for real fruits. I'm constantly running around to headquarters or the library." Ed complained.

Roy couldn’t argue with the kid. He was pretty busy. But still, that wasn't an excuse to live out of vending machines.

"Alright, so how about a grab and go snack. You like applesauce?"

"Yeah."

Roy snagged a box of applesauce pouches and threw it into the cart, then kept going. He just had to make sure Ed didn't realize they gave those applesauce pouches to toddlers commonly. Because he doubted Ed would care enough to grab a spoon or a more traditional applesauce cup.

"What about yogurt?" Roy asked.

Ed narrowed his eyes. "Milk." he groused from where he was holding onto the cart.

"Cheese sticks?" Roy held up the package enticingly.

"Okay." Ed acquiesced. "It doesn't taste like milk."

They were just about done shopping- the only thing left was to get coffee.

Roy started off towards the aisle but stopped when he realized Al wasn't following pushing the cart.

The boy was looking at a duster in the cleaning aisle. "Throw it in the cart, Al. I'll dust your armor off tonight if you want." he said. Al couldn't really eat, but it wasn't fair to exclude the boy from shopping.

"Thank you!"

"It's nothing. Let's get going. I want to hit the yellow market before it gets too late.".

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It got dark early in the fall. So even though it was only a little after 5, dusk was setting in on the city as he and the boys parked alongside the street in the nicer part of town and walked towards the yellow market.

Ed had an excited bounce in his step at the prospect of fortune cookies, and Al was hoping to find stray cats.

The warm glow of streetlights faded as they entered the rougher neighborhood of town- a block or so was dark, before the hanging string lights and colorful candle lanterns lit up the street.

The barren streets of central melted into a new landscape of men shouting about wares in a Xingese tongue. Men with cone-shaped hates and women in flowing garb, as well as children and stray dogs ran though the streets, adding to the commotion and the smells and sights of the market.

People were selling vibrant flowers, roast seafood on sticks, and a variety of meat and pastries.

One market stall had a variety of little animals made of colored paper, and Alphonse stopped to look.

The children stopped running and playing with their sticks and hoops when they saw Edward and stared, whispering among themselves.

Roy wondered if they recognized him as the Fullmetal Alchemist or not. Normally children were enthralled by Alphonse and his armor, not Edward...

A cold wind blew, rustling the paper lanterns and scattering the children. They took off down various alleyways and down the street.

It unnerved Roy, for some reason.

Ed had found the shop he was looking for- an old woman selling the cookies he wanted.

She shakily bagged them up for him and they chatted as he got out his money to pay her.

Alphonse squatted to set a stray cat near the mouth of an alley.

The quiet suddenly struck Roy as odd. The market callers had stopped shouting about their wares and people had stopped chattering. Mothers took their children and went to other stalls further away from them.

A woman ran into Roy and fell, scattering her things on the ground.

"Sorry!" she exclaimed, her angular Xingese eyes drawing him in.

"No, not a problem at all." Roy bent to help her pick up her scattered items, though he couldn't stop the hairs of unease form standing up on the back of his neck.

As they both picked up the fallen items from the ground, the woman leaned closer to him, eyes wide. "You must leave now. They will come for the boy. Men offer lot of money for him. Children go get men- they take boy."

Roy froze for a moment, before he nodded, handing her one of the items he'd been picked up and straightening.

"Edward! Al!"

Ed had paid for his cookies- the old woman at the shop had somehow given him a large stick of candy as well and was patting him on the head.

"What?" Ed asked, looking annoyed at the interruption.

"We're going. Now." his voice left no room for argument, and Ed fell into step beside him and Al as they headed back the way they came.

"But we just got here." Ed complained.

"You got your cookies. Now let's go."

He couldn't shake the feeling they were being watched, though they got home that night without incident.

Yes- I know that in cannon the year is like 1920. I just like to imagine Roy taking his boys to walmart. I don’t know why, but it’s a balm for my soul.

Obligatory ko-fi link here; https://ko-fi.com/fluffykitty12 .

[aladdinthefortuneteller]

Weight Gain With 4 Simple Steps

Gain Weight With 4 Simple Steps

1) Eat High Calorie Foods

You probably heard this a million times before. If it was this easy you wouldn’t be looking here to gain weight.

I’m going to give you some unorthodox foods you probably haven’t tried before. Thus, your weight gain journey will be much easier.

Why should you listen to me?

Cuz I have been there. I was a super skinny kid up until my university years. Then, throughout endless research, trial and error, I managed to bulk up to 105kg.

On a side note, I was 65kg when I started uni.

I did this over years. However, it took me so long cuz I was making mistakes.

Alright, let’s get to work. These are the high calorie foods that will bulk you up in no time. These foods should be in your daily diet to gain weight.

1)Peanut Butter

Peanuts and peanut butter contain nutrients that may boost a person’s heart health and improve blood sugar levels.

Depending on how much you eat in a day you can put on pounds during weight training or bodybuilding.

Protein. Peanut butter contains 7.02 grams (g) of protein per 2-tbsp serving. This is essential ingredient for us to put on quality mass.

Magnesium. With 57 milligrams (mg) of magnesium, each serving helps towards the RDATrusted Source of 400–420 mg in men. Magnesium plays a role in over 300 chemical processes in the body. Including putting on muscle.

Phosphorous. Each serving contains 107 mg of phosphorus, which is about 15.3 percent of the RDA of 700 mg for adults. Phosphorus helps to build healthy cells and bones and helps to produce energy.

Zinc. A serving of peanut butter provides 0.85 mg of zinc. This is 7.7 percent of the recommended daily intake of 11 mg for men.

Niacin. Peanut butter contains 4.21 mg of niacin per serving, which makes a useful contribution towards a person’s recommended intake of 14 to 16 mg.

Vitamin B-6. With 0.17 g of vitamin B-6 per serving, peanut butter provides almost 14 percent of an adult’s RDA of 1.3 mgTrusted Source.

Can you see one thing from these ingredients? Yes, all help to produce energy, and the more energy our body has, the more it stores. This is how we gain weight.

Don’t think like: “Oh okay, I will eat a spoon of it here and there.” NO! You have to eat loads of this to gain weight.

I remember eating 5-6 table spoons a day which really made a difference.

You are not a normal person! You have to get out of your comfort zone to make a difference.

My suggestions is at least 4 table spoons a day with meals.

2) Weight Gainer

Weight gainer should be one of your go to snacks. I scoop of weight gainer contains redicilious amount of calories full of carbs, protein and healthy fats.

The best part about weight gainers is they are cheap! Also way cheaper than whey protein.

I recommend making a shake with banana, weight gainer and 2 spoons of peanut butter.

You can visit this page to find high-quality and top-rated weight gainers. My personal favorite is the chocolate flavor.

They mix up with almost everything and taste amazing! So, buy one of them and you will thank me.

Don’t forget, these are called weight gainers for a reason. They pack on mass quick. BUT, the important part is to not replacing them with meals.

Always eat your solid meals first and before you go to sleep make a shake with banana, weight gainer and any other ingredient you like.

Even if you are full after the meal, you have to consume a shake. That way your muscles will repair during the night.

Also you body will store the extra energy.

3) Milk

The nutritional composition of milk is highly complex, and it contains almost every single nutrient that your body needs.

One cup (240 ml) of whole cow’s milk with 3.25% fat provides

Calories: 149

Water: 88%

Protein: 7.7 grams

Carbs: 11.7 grams

Sugar: 12.3 grams

Fiber: 0 grams

Fat: 8 grams

Some athletes consume 2 liters milk per day to put on as much mass as possible. I don’t recommend that. But, you can see why they do that.

If you have lactose intolerance, you should consume lactose-free milk.

By the way, I used to put milk in my before-bed shakes. Including weight gainer, banana, peanut butter, and 2 glasses of milk.

That shake will make you strong as a bull and will guarantee to turn you into a bodyguard. If you don’t feel like puking, you can drink milk instead of water.

I had many friends who did this technique. It takes time to get used to. But once you get used to it, people won’t recognize you.

2) Eat Till You Are Uncomfortably Full EVERY MEAL

When talk to a hardgainer, they always mention the time they ate the whole large pizza.

But when I ask them what did you eat for the rest of the day, nothing comes out.

This is the issue. If that one large meal you ate recently was gonna cut it, you would not be here.

BECAUSE,

This is the simple reality.

You have to feel uncomfortable after every meal. To gain weight and put on the quality mass on your frame, you have to eat till you are feeling sick.

So, the uncomfortable feeling you have after a huge meal, should happen after every meal of the day. Not just one meal.

How Many Meals A Day To Gain Weight?

Speaking of meals, I subscribe to eating at least 4 big meals a day.

Assuming you will have the pre-bed shakes, that will make 4 huge meals plus a giant shake. So, that puts you around 3k to 4k calories a day.

All in all, I want you to feel like ”If I take one more bite, I will have to go to the hospital.” EVERY MEAL!

3) Gain Weight By Exercising Less

This might not include all of you.

BUT,

I am talking to the ones who love running on the treadmill. The more you run and the excessively you train, the more weight you lose.

The trick is super simple. Keep your weight training under 45 mins. Also, don’t do cardio. Never, Ever!

If you are doing any sports, avoid spending calories doing cardio. You are better off lifting weights under 45 mins.

This way you will be able to utilise precious calories to build muscle and gain weight.

If you really love running, and can’t live without some sort of cardio or outdoor activity, just walk.

If your heart rate elevates, your body starts burning calories. Especially, ectomorphs like you and me, we literally destroy calories in minutes.

So far, we talked about the duration of the exercise and the type of the exercise.

Now, let’s cover how much you should train a week.

The optimal scenario is to train 4 times a week. WEIGHT TRAINING. You can get away with 3, but less than 3 will impact your apatite.

Also if you go crazy and train everyday of the week, your body will have no time to recover and muscle.

We don’t want that!

4) Sleep Less To Gain Weight

Look, I’m not saying drink 5 energy drinks at night.

You are here for my unorthodox weight gaining tactics. So listen tight.

I figured this out after I graduated and started working. This led me to sleep very early and I wasn’t able to add another meal to my diet.

Including me, some people can only eat so much in one sitting. So my solution was to add meals instead of increasing the portion size.

Going back to the story, since I was sleeping so early I wasn’t able to squeeze in another meal in.

That day I decided to stay up a little bit later to smash my next meal.

Benefits?

The upside of this is you can also do extra work. Study, watch movies, read, hustle…

I became more productive and gained mass. That was a win win for me!

I urge you to try this. Sleep less than you usually do. The more you stay up late the more you get hungry.

It gives you the room to eat and more time to sneak in snacks.

If you liked this article please make sure you share it on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, Trumbler, LinkedIn and Instagram.

https://menshealthprotein.com/gain-weight-with-4-simple-steps/?fbclid=IwAR3ZVejp1xqqIN9IQ8lX--UvdaUSo1Y5a4F3FVcktioqw0v_D2VyZUy_bfg

[saedii-gilwraeth-simp]

Arsinoe&Billy 4 🤗🤗

This one was fun. Also the child of forced Heterosexuality™ was fun to write!

Teacher/Single Parent AU

Arsinoe has to say, that of all the students she teaches, the one who is simultaneously her favourite and also her least favourite was Mary Chatworth. The young blonde girl was bright and as sharp as a whip but also seemed to be the most pissed at the world and questioned every single thing any authority figure said to her. Which was fine with Arsinoe (she remembers being seventeen and traumatised) but made it extraordinarily difficult for her to teach the course content on time. 

But, she wasn’t going to call Mary’s parents. Getting a young women in trouble for wanting knowledge wasn’t her style.

Which was why she was surprised when she got a phone call from Mary’s father. He had simply requested a meeting with her and that was that.

He was waiting by the office building and turned to her when she approached. She was almost thrown off balance for a second as he watched her approach with his deep hazel eyes. Still, she remained professional and reached a hander out.

“Hi, you must be William. I’m Arsinoe, Mary’s legal studies teacher,” she says as he takes her hand a shakes. His hand is warm and smooth and he flashes her a blinding white smile.

“Just Billy is fine. Only my mother calls me William. Shall we?” He says with a warm voice and gestures for them to go. She nods and lets him fall into step with her.

“So, I was surprised to hear from you. I saw no reason to contact you regarding Mary so I have to ask why you wished to speak to me?” She asks, turning into her classroom and taking a seat at on of the desks. Billy sits across from her with a sigh.

“I got a call from a Mr. Arron saying her behaviour was unacceptable and I should ask any of Mary’s other teachers and they would say the same thing. You’re her favourite teacher so I was hoping you could enlighten me to her behaviour. I’m really worried about her lately…,” he trails off and she shoots him a confused look. He catches it and sighs again, running a hand through his clean cut blonde hair, “her mum and I split up amicably when she was younger but lately she’s not reacting well to Christine’s partner. I really am hoping Mr. Arron is wrong,” he says nervously and Arsinoe laughs.

“Don’t tell him I said this, because I have to see him at family lunch on Saturdays, but Arron is wrong most of the time. Mary is fine, she wants knowledge and asks a lot of questions, which can make it hard to move onto the next topic, but one should never fault a student, especially a young woman, for wanting to learn more. Arron’s just a tool,” she says with a smile. Billy laughs quietly.

“And you’re related to Arron? Who you just called a tool?”

“He and my sister drunkenly eloped years ago, I still haven’t forgiven him for not inviting me,” she shrugs. He laughs again, gentle lines forming around his eyes.  “Oh and feel free to tell him you talked to me when you go see him. I have the power of making him sleep on the couch whenever I want so…,” they laughed again.

“Well, I might go see him now,” Billy says standing. Arsinoe stands with him and shakes his hand. “I’ll make sure to pass on your information to him. Thank you for being so gracious with Mary, she really does enjoy your classes,” he goes to walk away and she is almost sad to see him go until he turns back to her and seems to pause as if considering what to say. Finally, he seems to work it out. “Feel free to say no, but would you like to go to dinner with me sometime? As a date?”

Arsinoe doesn’t let her happy surprise show on her face and instead moves to her desk at the back of the room, grabbing a pen and a slip of paper.

“I would like that. Here’s my number,” she scrawls it quickly and hands it off to him. “Have fun telling Pietyr he’s wrong.”

~

It seems that no-one in her family realised that Mary Chatworth noticed everything, even with her head in a book. She knew that her mum liked women before her new step-mother came into the picture, she knew her grandmother became less of a bigot after her grandfather died.

And she knew her dad was seeing someone new, and it was going well, considering he had been going on dates with obviously the same person for the last 6 months. Which led her to her current predicament. She was spying.

She had been steadily following her dad in traffic, staying two cars back so he didn’t notice she was following. Eventually he dropped his car off with a valet at a fancy restaurant - too fancy for her to have ever been taken to. Still, she gets lucky when her dad is seated in front of the window. He orders something with the server and waits, so she waits.

Her phone dings and she looks over at it.

Message from Mum: How’s the stakeout going? Also, will you be home in time for dinner?

She texts back, Boring, Dad’s still waiting, and probably not but could you put a plate in the microwave in case?

Message from Mum: Will do. Also, tell me if she looks interesting so I can tease Billy about it later. Love you

She snorts and throws her phone down on the passenger seat, watching her dad in the restaurant again. Finally, she sees him smile and stand, kissing a woman who approaches him. She is as tall as him with dark hair chopped around her chin and when they pull away Mary is stunned.

“Holy fucking shit,” she whispers to the empty car before lifting her phone and snapping a photo, sending it off to her Instagram group chat.

Somehow the HBIC (MChat) to Mary is the only Responsible One™: Are y’all seeing what I’m seeing?

Evil Twin Uno to Mary is the only Responsible One™: is that your dad on a date with ms. queen? holy shit bro

Evil Twin Dos to Mary is the only Responsible One™: crap dude are you okay?

Self-proclaimed Dingus to Mary is the only Responsible One™: that’s somewhere between oof and yikes

Viv with no nickname to Mary is the only Responsible One™: babe if you wanna come get high with me to forget that image, feel free to come over.

Mary scoffed at that. If there was one thing she would not be doing tonight, it was getting high. Her step-mother had the nose of a drug-sniffing dog.

Somehow the HBIC (MChat) to Mary is the only Responsible One™: I’ll keep that in mind. Maybe tomorrow night when I’m staying at dad’s

Everyone’s debatable favourite to Mary is the only Responsible One™: yeah, get out of the house so your dad can spend spend quality time with you legal teacher *wink emoji*

Somehow the HBIC (MChat) to Mary is the only Responsible One™: I hate you

Everyone’s debatable favourite to Mary is the only Responsible One™: wait, you’re not at your dad’s tonight. Stick around and see if they leave together

Somehow the HBIC (MChat) to Mary is the only Responsible One™: ew ew ew ew ew ew fuck you fuck everyone. 

She threw her phone back onto the seat and continued to watch. She had to admit, it was kind of nice to see her dad smile like he was now. She was so used to see him stressed or disciplining her that even though he laughed, he didn’t smile as much as he was on this date.

She threw her head back and groaned. If it came down to her opinions about it and her dad being happy, she had to let her dad being happy, even with a woman who she saw everyday in class. 

Somehow the HBIC (MChat) to Viv with no nickname: If they leave together I’m coming to get high. I need an excuse to be at dad’s house tomorrow morning.

Viv with no nickname to Somehow the HBIC (MChat): I’ll save you a joint 

~

She wasn’t still high, but she still smelled undoubtedly like weed, which is why she went to her dad’s. Plus, she wanted to see whether Ms. Queen had stayed over. She let herself into the house and went straight to the kitchen. She really wanted peanut butter for some reason and she knew her dad loved that shit.

She grabs a spoon from a drawer and the peanut butter jar from the pantry and hops up on to the counter, crossing her legs and twisting the cap off.

She’s happily eating spoons of peanut butter on her kitchen bench when she hears her dad’s bedroom door swing open and footsteps that are definitely not her dad’s pad down the hall. She braces herself just as Ms. Queen comes into the kitchen and freezes. Mary looks over the teacher, wearing the dorkiest glasses, one of her dad’s sleep shirts and a pair of shorts.

They stare awkwardly at each other until the teacher rubs her nose and fixes her glasses.

“You look and smell like you spent the night getting high. Let me guess, Vivian?” Mary nods silently and Queen snorts. 

“Sorry, miss,” she says and Queen shudders.

“To start, I’m wearing one of your dad’s shirts, we’re at the point where you can call me Arsinoe and to finish, I don’t care, so long as you were doing anything to endanger yourself or anyone else. I’m not trying to be your mum, you already have enough of them, right?” Arsinoe says and grabs another spoon before pushing herself onto the counter. Mary offers her the peanut butter with a smile.

“My step-mum was super overbearing when it first became evident she would be around a while, so thanks, I guess,” Mary says, resting her head against the cupboard behind her. Arsinoe passes the peanut butter back.

“Well, I don’t know how long I’ll be around, but I really like your dad so I hope it’s a while. But I was seventeen once and I remember how much it sucked ass, so you don’t have to worry about me cramping your style,” Mary interrupts her with a snort and Arsinoe laughs, “wow I really sounded old then, huh?” Mary nodded.

“It’s fine. My mum still says tubular,” Mary says, meeting Arsinoe’s eyes for a beat and suddenly both were laughing.

“Ah, good to see you two getting along. What are you doing here kid? You’re meant to be at your mum’s,” Billy says as he enters the kitchen.

“I, uh, may have gone and smoked with Viv last night and you know what Denise is like,” she shrugged and her dad pursed his lips at her.

“I don’t approve of you getting high but I am glad you were honest about it and that you came someplace you feel safe. Now go text your mum you’re alright and sleep it off, please?” He says. Mary passed Arsinoe the peanut butter and hopped off of the counter, hugging her dad.

“Arsinoe can stay, she’s chill,” she compliments. Her dad smiles happily before ruffling her hair and sending her off to her room.

Send me a number and I’ll write a fic

[brianblase]

Wizardry Spoon Cereal. The High-Protein, Low-Carb Cereal That is All Over Instagram—and It's Quite Acceptable

 I'm always failing to return to customary oat.

 Brian Blase

When I began telecommuting in the start of isolate, I ended up on a cereal kick. I at long last had the opportunity to plunk down and have breakfast in the first part of the day. But, one bowl was never enough to keep me full until lunch, so I'd be ravenous again several hours.

My morning meal presumably required more protein to keep me satisfied. Yet I would not like to surrender the accommodation (and taste) of cereal. So when I got an email about a high-protein, low-carb oat brand that might actually keep me full for more.

After a speedy look at Wizardry Spoon's site, I understood I'd been seeing the brand all over Instagram. You can't miss its very vivid stylish. With more than 171,000 adherents on the stage, it has a bigger online media following. Its Instagram-commendable cereals had sprung up on my investigate page. I chose to check this protein-stuffed cereal out.

 Sold in cases that incorporate 4 boxes of oat every, Wizardry Spoon offers a lot of various fun flavors. You can pick the assortment pack. It incorporates exemplary flavors like iced, cocoa, blueberry, and fruity. You can decide on a solitary flavor on the off chance that you know what you need. Additionally the Nutty pack, which highlights two boxes. Every one of the brand's most up to date contributions: nectar nut and peanut butter. Perhaps you’re asking yourself, where can I buy magic spoon cereal?  You can purchase magic spoon cereal in amazon or Walmart. Check here for more information.

https://www.amazon.com/magic-spoon/s?k=magic+spoon

     My opinion about Sorcery Spoon oat

  I went for the Nutty choice, among the magic spoon cereal flavors, and when my bundle showed up, I presented myself with a bowl as an evening nibble. It would pose a flavor like cardboard, yet I'm  still in shock how delightful it was. It helped me to remember normal oat, a piece crunchier, which was an or more for me since I disdain when oat gets spongy. Additionally, it tasted sweet enough to fulfill my sweet cereal yearnings. What's more, not normal for some other "sound" protein-stuffed tidbits. Wizardry Spoon didn't leave an awful persistent flavor in my mouth.

 In any case, the genuine test was checking whether it would keep me full from breakfast to lunch. Around 9 a.m. the following morning, I had around two servings. One is in fact 3/4 cup with unsweetened vanilla almond milk. The other a cut banana before continuing with work for the afternoon. Following two hours, I was hoping to feel hunger. It happens not long after I eat a customary bowl of oat. In any case, I am dazzled to find that I didn't feel any cravings for food until after 1 p.m.

I additionally love the capricious boxes. Every one has some good times character on the front and a labyrinth on the back. It is extraordinary. In case you're the kind of individual who likes to understand bundles while you eat you will love it. It brought back nostalgic cherished recollections of having cereal for breakfast. Especially before making a beeline for the bus station for school.

Is Wizardry Spoon cereal sound?

At the point when you take a gander at a case of Sorcery Spoon oat, you'll see a huge load of popular expressions. Magic spoon cereal ingredients include high-protein, keto-accommodating, sans gluten, and then some. The nourishment realities shift somewhat by flavor. Most have 110 calories, 11 grams of protein, 10 grams of carbs, 4.5 grams of fat, and 0 grams of sugar for every 3/4 cup serving. The cereal was pretty much as solid as its nourishment name appears, I tapped Makayla Meixner, MS, RDN. The main dietitian at GreenChoice to confirm.

As per Meixner, Sorcery Spoon's nutrition facts suggests high protein sum is incredible. This is because it will help save you more full for more. "Besides to the fact that protein is significant at breakfast. This is to 'break the quick' and supply your body with much-required amino acids. It's also helpful to spread your protein consumption out for the duration of the day to keep up bulk," she adds.

 And afterward there's its low sugar content. "Conventional oats contain high measures of added sugar," notes Meixner. "Unreasonable added sugar admission may add to heftiness and constant sicknesses. The Dietary Rules for Americans prescribes restricting added sugar admission to under 10%. This is for your every day calories."

 Most kinds of Enchantment Spoon contain 0 grams of sugar for every serving. A serving of Iced Pieces grain, in correlation, has 14 grams of added sugar. See the difference. Wizardry Spoon gets it's anything. From a mix of allulose, priest natural product separate, and steviol glycosides. It "gives pleasantness zero calories or carbs," as indicated by Meixner.

 Be that as it may, there's one drawback to sans grain oat. "Its large scale cosmetics might be best for those after a low-carb or ketogenic diet. But its micronutrient cosmetics doesn't pile up to other grain-based cereals," says Meixner. Be that as it may, you're not stuck between a rock and a hard place in the event that you actually need it for breakfast.

 "To help supply a few supplements Sorcery Spoon is inadequate. With regards to, you can finish off the oat with your number one nuts and seeds," she says. "Nuts and seeds contain almost no carbs. Contains differing measures of selenium, zinc, iron, and a few other helpful supplements. Additionally, some plant-based milks, for example, soy milk—contain iron, and unsweetened assortments. It contains less carbs than cow's milk per serving."

 Cost is another factor to remember. It's a direct-to-customer brand. Wizardry Spoon is accessible to buy on its site, and at $39 for 4 boxes, it's not as modest as your average oat. Be that as it may, the brand thinks about its oat to protein bars and shakes. This makes the cost of $1.39 per serving appear to be more sensible. In case you're hoping to save, you can get 10% off of your request by picking the buy in and save alternative. This brings the cost per case down to $35, besides to free delivery. (Try not to stress, you can drop it whenever.)

 Enchantment Spoon will not be the lone food I have for breakfast. I realize that I'll go after it at whatever point I'm wanting a bowl of cereal. Or when am feeling too lethargic to even think about cooking toward the beginning of the day. It tastes astonishing and keeps me feeling full. I can't envision myself returning to customary acquired oat once more.

[cinematicnomad]

wait. you don't like pEANUT BUTTER??

lol, i do not. but i swear that i have a good excuse! or at least an explanation.

so first, know that my family was not a big peanut butter family in the first place. i ate a lot of ham and cheese sandwiches as a kid, never pb&j (or grilled cheese—apparently when my mom was pregnant with me, my big brother would ask her to make him a grilled cheese everyday? so that he could take it with him to school for lunch. and she’d cook it first thing while dealing with morning sickness and then thinking about the fact that the grilled cheese was just going to sit in my brother’s lunch box for hours coagulating and getting gross and....anyway, suffice it to say, i didn’t eat my first grilled cheese until i was in high school and a friends mom made us some). ANYWAY. my point. i didn’t eat peanut butter as a kid so really had no positive associations with it. 

second, i had a lisp as a kid. a pretty bad one. i couldn’t pronounce my s-, th-, or -er’s. i was apparently difficult to understand (my aunt once went to my mom and was like “....i think there is A Problem bc no one understands your daughter when she talks” and my mom was like “pssht you are blowing this out of proportion she’s fine”) and eventually my school sat my parents down in kindergarten or first grade and were like, “look, your kid needs speech therapy now or else.” so for the next, oh, 3–4 years, i went to speech therapy like once a week. and probably would have continued to go to speech therapy (which was considered ‘special education’) for many more years to come but then my family was moving to germany and my new school was like “she’s in special education??? we will Not Accept her bc we’re elitist rich judgmental assholes” and my speech therapist had to ‘graduate’ me early and say that i was all better so that my new school would allow me to matriculate. bc apparently a 4th grader who needs speech therapy would have been An Issue for them. 

(a few years down the line my dad got a new boss who was like. the big man in charge at the US consulate. and one of his kids was on the spectrum and my school pulled the same bullshit and was like “we will take your Normal™ Child but not the other one.” but then my dad’s boss called them on their bluff and was like “fine, we will send both of our kids to the school on the other side of town that has a slightly lesser reputation.” and then AFTER THAT every single family who joined the consulate and had to consider where to send their kids to school was like “well, where does the boss send his kids??” and they all followed his lead and my shitty school lost out on SO MUCH MONEY and it was amazing.)  

I DIGRESS.

the point: speech therapy kind of sucks and it can be a little embarrassing bc you get pulled out of class and miss most of the lunch hour and everyone knows that you’re ~*different*~. so obviously my speech therapist was like, well how can i give these kids a treat while also helping them with their speech issues?? 

and her solution was to give us a spoonful of peanut butter and try to enunciate around that. 

which like, for the other kids i’m sure was great! bc they all had positive associations with peanut butter! and it was like a fun, delicious, surprise treat in the middle of the day! 

BUT NOT FOR ME.

bc i never fucking ate peanut butter at home, so this was basically my first real introduction to it. and it was accompanied by like. struggle and mortification and shame and frustration and failure as i tried and failed to enunciate my th-’s or whatever while my speech therapist would correct me and make me try again. and just somewhere in my brain the association stuck and now peanut butter just sets me on edge and the smell makes me gag. 

anyway this was a long winded way of saying i basically have peanut butter related trauma and reese’s suck. 

[crushzone]

🎬 About Me

Original art of me and my fictional hubby, Ukai Keishin, by @achieve-the-sun​, posted with permission. 💕 

Hi there!

My name is Nin and I am the founder of Crushzone Cinema Theater. 📽 🍿 

🎬 THE BASICS

Age: 23

Birthday: December 24th

Pronoun: She/her

Education: Graduated with a dual degree in Film and Global History

Occupation: Is currently a film freelancer in the camera department, who desperately needs money to pay rent every month lol.

Likes: 

- The sound of rain tapping on my window

- Watching my plants rise and droop to the moving sun

- Cooking and experimenting with different cuisines; Japanese, Thai and Chinese are some of my favorites.

- Giving my husband and my cat their head rubs every night.

- Drawing, painting, and photography. (Here’s some of my works!)

- The feeling of accomplishment after you’ve gone through SO much for a project with your peers. To work on your own movie or short film, and finally seeing it done, is such a rewarding experience.

- To eat my Mac and Cheese with ketchup, nutritional yeast, and steamed broccoli. (Fight me lol. 🦖 )

- Eating chips with chopsticks.

- Medjool dates with a spoonful of crunchy peanut butter 😋 

-Wearing oversized clothes, especially hoodies.

- Sitting at my reading nook, with my cat next to me on the chair.

Dislikes: 

- The buzzing sound bees make when they fly.

- Slipping on my own chunk of hair on the ground; I have a lot of hair and I shed a lot.

- The heat, I may be from Thailand, but I am very much done with the blaring heat. One second I’ll look real cute with my face all done up, but the moment I step out, it’s already melting from my face.

- Going to sleep; there’s SO much more I could be doing right now!

- When my bangs desperately need a trim and is poking my eyes.

- Poor lighting, doesn’t matter if it is real life, just light it like you’re IN a film!! It’s so much more dramatic that way! (For real, come to my house, every corner is lit with some sort of a look/mood 😏)

- Loud noises; when people are yelling all the time, or something is loud, I get nervous when I can’t hear my own thoughts.

- People with bad attitude, a temper, or is just kind of mean in general. There is absolutely no excuse for you to be that way, and nothing productive comes out of it. Nuh-uh.

🎬 FUN FACTS

My parents hired a piano teacher when I was in elementary school, but because I didn’t enjoy her company (for some reason), I refused to absorb information. Little did I know, it would backfire me and would have absolutely no effect to her pay.

I’m that kid who always has 4 spare pencils and 5 erasers to lend out to my peers.

Will serenade to my cat every morning and night, so if you are ever my roommate, I apologize for my horrible singings.

Performed as a cave and pot in my high school production, and lemme tell ya, it is more difficult than it sounds.

Has no problem doing laundry in the morning, but the moment the sun falls, I will be too afraid to go down into my basement to do it. Some may say that it is an excuse for me to put laundry off for the next day, but I always tell my husband that there’s a “Babadook” in there. 👀

One time I stepped on a millipede, and I cried for 2 days because I felt really bad for it.

I’m actually VERY shy most of the times, so if you see me laughing a lot like a hyena, then it’s likely that it’s just me being awkward. OR I may just be having a good time, who knows.

I’m awful around kids, I am SO awkward and will stiff up like a rock (if you see me doing that, pls come safe me). One time this kid asked me why I laugh so much, so I simply just laughed some more while backing out of the room slowly. 🤦‍♀️ 

🎬 SOME FUN QUESTIONS!

What is something you wish you were gifted at doing?

I wish I could sing. My husband is a musician, and it looks like he’s having so much fun. There’s just something so freeing about it, as if it’s another language that takes time to become fluent in, but when you are, it’s so captivating and expressive. I don’t think I’m an awful singer, but is just too incredibly shy to sing in front of others. 

What is the first movie you remember seeing in theater?

It may had been Disney’s Dinosaur (2000), not sure. All I remember was that there were a bunch of dinosaurs on screen, may had even been 3D with those glasses.

At one point, a tiger jumped at the screen, and I started crying. My mom and brother wanted to finish the movie, so my dad had to sit outside with me, until it was over. It was chill tho, my dad was teaching me different dinosaur names. 👶 🦖 🦕 

What is the first thing you do when you get home?

Pants off, baby!! I don’t usually wear a bra, but if do, then I guess it’s bra’s off first. Then I instantly hop into my plaid boxer shorts hehee. 🤭 

What has been the hardest thing for you to face or learn?

That people go through different stages of their life at different paces, and that is totally okay. When I was younger, I would always overwork, and as a result, I don’t really have a lot of time for myself. I did that, mostly, because I wanted to get a head start at everything, especially at my career. Now that I am 23-24, and had just graduated from Class of 2019, I’ve been getting film gigs since I was a sophomore, and is now a full time freelancer. 

Yet, I was not satisfied, because I got to work with a 21 y/o in a position that was under her, and it made me feel momentarily incompetent; like I wasn’t doing well enough. But it will never be enough if that’s the mindset; I never considered that she skipped university and went straight into film, so circumstances were entirely different.

Meanwhile, there’s someone 10+ years older than me who is struggling to get the work I’d get, and that is okay too. What I should’ve done is feel happy for her, and use that to motivate myself to improve.  As long as I never give up, and continue to do my best with a good attitude, everything will be just fine.

If you could give your younger self any advice what would it be?

That it’s okay to take a break sometimes, live life a little, and cherish all the happiness, sadness, heartbreak, and struggles that you are going through right now. Every tear will make you stronger, and genuine every smile will eventually pull you through. 

Time goes by very quickly, and every stage in your life is a part of you, so make sure you remember how you get to where you are well.

Do you see the glass as half empty or half full?

Half full, just grateful that there’s any liquid in the glass at all, and is excited to acquire more with all the space I’ve got on top, ya know? 🤷‍♀️ 

What is the strangest thing you believed as a child?

That if you whistle at night, the ghosts will come find you. Or if you play hide and seek at night, then you’ve opened up some kind of portal that the ghosts will kidnap you away from this dimension forever.

Tbh, I think my grandma was just sick of me trying to learn how to whistle when I was in elementary school and of me running around the house at night, so she made these omen up lol.

What time do you usually get up in the morning?

Used to wake up at 13:00-14:00 all the time, but since I married an early bird, I’ve been up at 6:30-7:00 lately.

What time is your usual bed time?

Heeheee 1:00-2:00 in the morning, oops.

How has your birth order/characteristics of siblings affected you?

I have the loveliest older brother in the world, he’s 4 years older, and is very smart, diligent, athletic, and funny. Me being the only daughter, my parents are incredibly protective, so they’d always have my brother do everything for me. 

It was a relief when I was younger, but as I enter high school, it became a little frustrating; I felt like I was living under his shadows and can never be considered independent. They’d also spend a lot more time training with him cuz he’s a national competitive swimmer.

Because of that, I had a lot of time to myself, so I experimented with my own interests and grew in my own way. As I’ve grown, I can definitely say that it’s made me a lot more independent and introverted haha. I absolutely dislike depending on anyone (Will be my last resort), but it’s also nice to know that whenever either of us fall, we’ll always have each other’s back.

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[hoodoo12]

Chapter 14/15 SFW

Chapters 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13

@tutlepated @anyamercury​ @beetlewise-and-pennyjuice​

Luckily, Lisette wasn’t the type to curl up and cry continuously about a shitty situation. The next day, eating peanut butter right out of the jar with a spoon because she was out of bread, she was back in his room with all her books, not just the heavy-hitters. 

He’d have helped her go through them, but their wards combined with the chalk circle wouldn’t allow him to touch them. The only other was her journal, and she was reluctant to pass it over to him. 

So instead she read passages out loud. Several times he shushed her, and once she’d uttered a name that made him rush the barrier again so quickly he hit it just like the very first day in his urgency to stop her. Some things shouldn’t be poked awake, Beetlejuice warned her, looking over his shoulder and into the corners of the room as if he expected a visit from something especially vile. 

Lisette took his advice and after that held the book up so he could read certain words instead of saying them.

Over the next three days, they came up with exactly nothing. 

Lisette had taken to sleeping on the floor in his room with a pillow and a blanket. Once again, Beetlejuice watched her sleep. It made him feel odd, knowing this breather actively chose to be close to him. He’d lost any advantage he may have had with her; there was no way for him to drive her out of this fucking house now. 

It made him feel even odder to realize he wanted her to be able to leave, but he didn’t want to drive her away.

Finally, on day four, he said, “If you break the circle, it’ll probably break the connection between you and me.”

There. He offered a chance for her salvation. He said it out loud. She’d probably been thinking it anyway.

Lisette studied him, but didn’t reply.  Still, he shrugged as though she had. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll still be here, having the time of my afterlife in this beautiful house in a quintessential New England town.

“You only said my name twice, babes. I’m not free, but you will be,” he continued, like it meant nothing to him even though it tore him up inside. “You can go, grab some greasy fast food, and put all this shit behind you. You don’t even have to look back as you’re driving away. Hell, just flip this quintessential New England town off in your rear-view mirror. I know I would.”

She shifted on the hardwood floor. 

“Beetlejuice,” she said, and he couldn’t help it; he groaned in longing when she said his name. For a second she pressed her lips together, then went on. “I was still hired to get you out of here. How would I do that if I just left?”

He wanted to scream, “Say my name three times!” but she continued speaking.

“I can free you. I can just repeat your name, and that’d be more powerful than this stupid chalk circle.”

Beetlejuice held his non-existent breath. Was she saying what he thought she was saying?! They were on the same wave length?! She was going to say his name and set him free?!

Lisette sighed. “But . . .” What? What but?!

“ . . . there was something else in the books. Something I found after you explained exactly what the incantation circle was meant for. I didn’t bring it up because I wasn’t sure how you’d take it. But not only are we running out of time, we literally found no other option.”

In spite of his growing anticipatory excitement, a feeling of dread washed over him. He wondered if his hair reflected that; sometimes he just couldn’t control the random colors that appeared in it. With a dry throat, he asked, 

“What are you talking about, Lis?”

She looked at him with an expression he couldn’t quite name. Fear? Sadness? Worry? 

After a pause that included a deep breath, she continued. 

“I can free you. I can scuff the chalk marks and break the barrier. Or I can say your name three times and that’d do it too--” 

A tiny whine escaped him, alerting her to how excited that possibility made him. Lisette didn’t acknowlege his desperation.

“--but even if I do either of those . . .”

Her voice trailed off. Beetlejuice waited for her to finish her thought, but it was difficult not to demand her to spit it out. 

Finally she said in a soft voice, “. . . I told you I used my blood. Apparently that wasn’t the greatest idea, because blood makes the ritual stronger. Even if I release you from the circle, even if I do it with your name, we’re still bound together.”

⁂

He’d be free, but . . . not free? Bound to a breather? What did that actually mean? And what did he know about her, anyway? She had some real sensitivity to spectral activity, sure, but she was also a self-admitted con artist. And she was a liar! She had a scary knowledge base since she managed to trap him, which sucked but was intriguing, and he couldn’t deny she was pretty hot under the peasant skirts and tank tops . . . Beetlejuice shook his head to get rid of the distracting, useless thoughts bombarding him to focus on the real thing here: anything was better than how long and what he’d had to endure in this fucking house!

Lisette had continued talking, filling in gaps he hadn’t considered in light of this new development. “There’s really no reason for me to just erase the chalk. What good would that do? If we’re still bound and your restrictions apply, then we’re still in the same boat. You can’t leave the house, so I can’t leave the house. So really, the only viable option is your name, which will set you loose. Then you can leave and that means I can leave. We’re totally getting some food after this--” 

Lost in his own swirling thoughts while trying to work through the complexities of what she’d told him, Beetlejuice was only half listening to Lisette’s ramblings, which seemed redundant and circling, and mostly to herself. 

“--so, here goes . . . Beetlejuice--”

His name, as always, grabbed his attention. He was and wasn’t ready; should they make sure this really was the only option? He wanted this so badly--

“--Beetlejuice--”

Oh shit oh fuck the second time the second time it was happening he was going to come in his pants she was going to say it, shewasgoingtosayit--

“--Beetlejuice!”

The sweet rush of power that he longed for, that he chased, that only an orgasm could rival, flooded through him. Beetlejuice couldn’t help but grin like a mad man and throw his arms out, a pose he’d learned from Christian icons that just felt so damn good! He hadn’t realized the weight the Netherworld beaucracy had burdened him with, tethering him to this fucking house; like old Scrooge waking up on Christmas morning being released from the chains he’d forged in life he felt lighter and freer; the world was his oyster, and, and--!

Beetlejuice took a breathful of air. He couldn’t stop smiling! With a jaunty tilt of his head, he literally dove at Lisette. 

tbc

[erlenmeyertrash]

ramble about collegiate tips!!!

COLLEGIATE TIPS you get me <3

tips for college... but make it Quarantine: (sidenote these have only been tried by my able-bodied neurotypical self so. this isn’t psychiatric advice)

bored? go on a walk. go physically outside. open a window and take several laps around the house if that can’t happen. do some sit-ups. do some yoga. stretch!! your neck and back and joints!! wash your face. brush your teeth again. lie on your stomach and doodle on paper like you’re 5

can’t focus during a lecture? stand up at your desk. sit on the floor in a patch of sunlight. Change The Surroundings. text your friends (or lmao make a tumblr post) saying i am going to pay attention to this lecture and tell you what i learned afterwards. make it a challenge.

running out of food? can’t find the energy to Make a Meal? peanut butter and honey in a bowl. that’s it. or just a spoonful of peanut butter. also stay hydrated blease

freaking out about grades? life? the future? send an email. email your TA. email your prof. email your advisor. email the counseling center. email your parents. email your pen pal from 2011. i will literally help you draft this email i kid you not.

parents/siblings/roommates making it hard to focus but you hate conflict? slam the door before lecture. write a note and put it on your door. complain about having to listen to a professor via Zoom for hours on end. use headphones. steal headphones. try and explain that the education system has refused to slow down and you need to be able to focus. email the prof and ask for lecture recordings because your home life is super loud/not accommodating.

lonely? schedule discord dates!! zoom dates!! facetime dates!! do a screenshare and host a virtual movie night. heck just call someone for the h e c k of it (and to end it you can just say “well i’ll let you go/i just wanted to check in” so you’re not stuck). social interaction is a Weird Thing rn but it’s boosted my mood to interact with friends so far in any capacity

feel like you’re falling behind? these are unprecedented circumstances. your brain is running on low-power-mode with half the thrusters devoted to a mild fight or flight response. we don’t know how to react to this, and that’s okay! i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again. take this one day at a time. NOBODY is out here absolutely flourishing all of a sudden.

disappointed about not physically graduating or getting a ceremony? ...yeah. me too. and it’s okay to feel like crap about it. don’t put yourself down because others might have it worse. be proud of yourself!! this is a huge accomplishment.

when’s the last time you ate a vegetable? yeah, that’s what i thought. go eat a vegetable- and a GOOD one, too, not something that’s 90% water.

okay now for wild-type collegiate:

...it’s. it’s gonna be overwhelming. it’s a lot! you will learn as much about yourself as you do about whatever you decide to study. but here are some tips that i may or may not have already said a thousand times:

drink. water. get a water bottle. get 800 redbubble stickers and slap them on the bottle. now take it everywhere.

make friends with your advisors early on. they’re the ones to write to when you need to get forced into a class your senior year. if you come in for easy questions, are nice, etc. they’ll be much more amiable and willing to help you out.

try to introduce yourself to the prof and/or TA on the first day/week. if nothing else, you’ll be more comfortable if you ever have to panic email them later on

turning in late work is ALWAYS better than no work at all.

i have to sit within the first three rows or i’m a lost cause, so find where you’re the least distracted (likely the first 1-3 rows) and sit there forever

learn how to cut through buildings to shave like 5 minutes and countless weather mishaps off your commute time

know!! your sleep and productivity schedules. try to stick to them. i am physically incapable of being alive for an 8 am, and i’m most productive around sunset, so i love to stick classes between 9:30 and 3:00 with a break in between and calmly let myself eat and de-stress from mid-afternoon until early evening. there are people who can schedule all their classes from 8-10 and be productive all day and i am not one of them. college is the first time you get to plan your schedule, and perhaps will be the only time you can schedule your day to begin at 12:30 in the afternoon, so use that to your advantage

USE AND STICK WITH SOME FORM OF ORGANIZATIONAL SYSTEM. any kind of calendar i swear. it’ll save your life

download and save your syllabi!!!! this is a tip that i really hadn’t heard until i was already in grad school, but this can definitely help when you’re looking at course equivalencies or to talk about work/educational experience. if you haven’t no sweat, just start now

try to make at least mild acquaintances/contacts in each class, especially those major-related- this is just for missed classwork or “what the heck is question 3 even asking me?!” stuff. also make as many friends as you can comfortably handle. don’t overwork yourself socially because you think everyone has to be a social butterfly in college

college isn’t for everyone. your major might not be right for you. your college situation (out-of-state, living on campus, taking 21 hours a semester) might not be right for you. don’t give yourself crap if it is! figure out what you can study and/or work with without burning yourself out, and run full-speed ahead at it. it’s rough to find the balance between “idk i just think this is neat” and “i will spend the next 4+ years studying This and then the rest of my foreseeable future Doing This” but if you miscalculated the first time, just try again.

you will, at some point in college, be rejected from something. or be scared of getting rejected. or get a really, really harsh criticism from someone you admire. do it. don’t back down. rejections are important!! they are learning experiences academically and emotionally. they help you improve and they help you learn how to be rejected. if you graduate college and have Never been rejected from anything in your entire life, the world has set you up for a potential failure when you are completely caught off-guard the first time it happens and you’re well into your late 20s. this is coming from someone who teared up in a therapist’s office at the mere THOUGHT of being rejected from grad school. it’s literally more okay to cry on a college campus than anywhere else in the world

if you can, take a class Outside your major. i’m taking “Dystopian Writers” rn as a genetics major and it’s so neat to hear people discuss stuff i never would have thought about or experienced otherwise.

if you’ve got specific educational/collegiate questions throw em at me- i tried to make this general. however. hope this hELPS

[bitsandbobsandstuff]

A love that never leaves (4)

Summary: Sometimes when you go looking for the past, you find things you never expected. When an accident brings him face to face with something he never knew he lost, Bucky Barnes begins to understand an age old truth – it’s so easy, sometimes, to love the things that destroy us.

Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: Bad language. The word rape is said, but only in confusion (nothing ever happens). 

A/N: Bucky thinks he fucked up, but she talks him down. Also he loves comfort food and hates stitches and I agree with both those feelings. They learn a little more about each other including a BIG discovery at the end. I’m very hungry after writing this and you’ll see why (diets are stupid).

Tags are open, if you want on the list please send me a DM or ASK, it’s easier for me to track. Otherwise you can find the new updates each weekend!

MASTERLIST ALTNL MASTERLIST

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Previously...

Cold. Always so god damn cold.

The sticky feel of him drying on her thighs is the only indication he was ever more than a dream. Hopeless tears fill her throat and after all this time, she wonders how there are still any left in her body.

It doesn’t matter.

They arrive like a tidal wave, breaking over her, destroying everything in their path and dragging her under.

*****

MISSION REPORT

NEW OBJECTIVE IDENTIFIED. RECONNAISSANCE REQUIRED TO DETERMINE APPROPRIATE COURSE OF ACTION. OBSERVATION WILL CONTINUE FROM A SAFE DISTANCE.

Was this it then? How could it be possible, after all these years? He just wants answers. Something to clarify the jagged outline of the puzzle plaguing him night and fucking day.

Balancing the notebook on his knees, he grips the pencil so tight, the sharp point of lead snaps and goes spinning across the page.

*****

Sometimes when it happens, it’s like running face first into a brick wall.

The outline was there in his brain, a lost memory he never knew he needed to find. Now, with the story she offers, the paintbrush in his head goes crazy, spilling out the colors of an icy, destructive night in Paris. Memories return, a blizzard of blurry faces and voices crackling like radio static.

Black-gloved fingers moving effortlessly over ivory keys. 10, 9, 8. Sparkling people and fizzy champagne. 7, 6, 5. Excited screaming. 4, 3, 2. Beautiful eyes, watching him from across the room. 1. Confetti and balloons bouncing. Screaming. Screaming. More screaming. Terrified screaming. Blood on his fingers, soaking into crisp white cuffs. Slipping like a shadow from a locked room. Stalking through the streets of Paris, heading back to base, until, until, until. The detour. Green paint on her walls, an open window with fluttering curtains. A trembling body dressed in satin and lace. Pleasure. Force. Rough hands, rough words. The feel of her clinging to him like he meant something. Like she wanted him. Heat licking up his spine, heat between her legs, heat in her mouth. And then tears. Sadness. Disappointment. Always, disappointment.

He remains frozen in shock, until he finds his voice. He jumps to his feet.

“Jesus,” he chokes out. He drags shaking hands through his hair and the wild tangles snag around his fingers. “Jesus. Did I - I raped you? Oh, my fucking god, fuck. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so fucking sorry, I don’t – ”

He falls mute. The apology sits heavy on his tongue and he wants to apologize for an eternity, but this is not for him to be upset. He’s not owed the relief of tears: those are reserved for victims, not criminals. Instead, he remains silent, awaiting the condemnation he deserves.

But to his disbelief, it doesn’t come.

“No! God, no, that’s not what I’m saying,” and now she stands up, trying to assuage his horror. “You didn’t, that’s not what happened.”

“Sure sounds like it was,” Bucky grits out. His hands are clenched at his sides and a faint whirring creeps from his arm when it recalibrates, a physical representation of his panic.

“No,” she repeats forcefully. “Listen to me. That is not what happened. You didn’t, you don’t understand, I wanted – ”

She stops in frustrated confusion.

“Still, I – “

“Bu – sorry, Soldier – “

Apologies collide, and both fall silent. Bucky tries first and his voice is quiet.

“Bucky. Please. My name is Bucky.”

Wetting her lips nervously, she tests the syllables on her tongue.

“Bucky,” she begins, embarrassed. “Listen to me. I hadn’t been with anyone that way for a long time. I wanted - that. I wanted you. That night, I wanted you.”

Bucky stuffs his hands in the pockets of the sweatpants and stares at his socks. They don’t match, and he wonders fleetingly where all the socks in his dryer go. He wiggles his toes as he thinks.

“That night, you were waiting for someone else though – you thought I was someone else. Jimmy.”

He looks up and sees the wind of his words blow the light from her eyes. When she speaks, her voice is tired. “I did. I thought, I hoped, maybe I would see him, but – he didn’t come.”

The look on her face speaks of a loss so devastating, it steals his breath. “Oh,” he finally says. He has nothing else to offer.

Considering the checkered past they apparently share - and he knows it’s all true, the memories are back again, slotted back into the space from where they were previously wiped - Bucky doesn’t understand why she hasn’t thrown his ass out the door. He’s grateful for the reprieve. Undeserving, but grateful. Inflicting his presence on her any longer though, seems selfish.

“I should go,” he says heavily. “Thank you. For saving my ass. For cleaning me up. I didn’t deserve it. I’ll get my stuff and go.”

He takes one step and black spots explode in front of him. Grasping the edge of the couch, he stumbles, and she reaches for him. Leaning clumsily into her, he grunts at the bursts of pain flooding from the wounds in his chest.

“No,” she says. “Those two bullets nearly hit your heart. I don’t even understand how you’re walking right now, but you’re not going anywhere until you’ve fully healed. Please.”

“Really, I’m fine - ”

“Really, you are not,” she interrupts, steel-edged voice brooking no argument. “Stay. I insist. Get some sleep, let yourself heal. Then you can head back.” She hesitates, before the next sentence. “The world can wait, Bucky.”

Something in her tone makes him pause. It feels important, like there’s more to this exchange than meets the eye. Bucky feels the age-old desire to wrack his brain hit him hard.

“Okay,” he mutters, looking down. “If it’s really not a problem - I’ll stay. Just a few days. I, uh, I heal pretty quick.”

“Yes, I thought you might,” she murmurs, letting go of him.

Bucky waits for his vision clear, fiddling with the hair tie around his wrist and snapping it a few times to ground himself. “Once I’m not totally useless though, you gotta let me earn my keep. I’m not lying in bed all damn day.”

“Okay,” she agrees. “If you get up to bed and stay there, I’ll find some things for you to do when you feel better.”

“Helpful things?” Bucky clarifies.

“Yes, helpful things. I promise. Now go back to bed. I didn’t spend all that time stitching you closed so you could rip it all open and bleed on my floors.”

“Alright,” he agrees, giving her a small smile.

There’s that peculiar longing in her voice when she speaks again, the same as he remembered when she found him in the snow and her words brand him in the oddest way.

“Stay as long as you want. It’s nice to have someone around, no one ever comes up here.”

Bucky nods his thanks and shuffles slowly toward the stairs. As he walks, he thinks he hears her whisper his name, but it must be the wind blowing outside.

*****

The odds of Steve flipping his shit when Bucky calls are high. Toying with his phone, Bucky grimaces before he punches the STEVIE G button and waits. Blinking little dots fill his screen, and when it connects, he sees a big forehead and snarls of damp blond hair.

“Hey man. How was it?”

The phone shifts and Steve’s whole face comes into view. He’s eating Skippy peanut butter straight from the jar.

“You were eating that last time I called,” Bucky responds. “You ever gonna do anything useful, or just sit around in your underwear?”

Steve scoops a huge blob and stuffs the spoon defiantly in his mouth. “It’s a new jar,” he mumbles defensively.

“Lazy little shit,” Bucky adds, grinning.

“Okay, time for you to fuck off,” Steve replies, now washing it down with milk straight from a carton with TONY written down the side in black sharpie. “How was it? Find anything?”

“It was fine. Another false alarm.”

“Great. Headed back soon then?”

Bucky chews the inside of his cheek and looks away. “Yeah, about that. So, I may have run into some issues – ”

Milk splashes on the table when Steve bangs the carton down. “What’d you do?”

“Well hell, Rogers, I’m kinda offended. Why do you always assume it’s me?”

Steve snorts like an irritated bull and rolls his eyes. “Because. Have you met you?”

“That’s fair, but this time it wasn’t me. I swear. I was heading back to the hotel and ran into this guy, some Hydra asshat asking if I’d set off the distress signal at the base. Anyway, he’s pretty dead now, but the fucker hit me with a couple gunshots and – ”

“Hit you with a couple what?” Bucky’s always surprised Steve’s voice can hit that high note - it sounds a like he’s taken a kick in the balls. Bucky ignores it and keeps talking.

“– and I’m fine, Steve. It’s fixed, I’m all good, I just want a few days to recover, so I’m staying a little longer.”

Steve’s already stomping into his room and throwing open his closet. Yanking an army green canvas duffel from the top shelf, he throws it on the bed and starts digging through his underwear drawer. Bucky sees a handful of demure blue boxers and one pair with neon pink Captain America shields go flying into the bag while Steve mumbles to himself.

“Steve. Steve. Rogers, listen,” but Steve just plows along, ignoring Bucky and muttering about the shortest flight paths and weather reports and meetings to reschedule and all of a sudden, Bucky panics. Pulling the rip cord, he shouts a single word.

“Kit-Kat!”

Steve freezes.

For good reason.

Years ago, when Bucky was mired in a particularly crappy depressive episode, he decided to make a blanket fort in his room. He stayed huddled in the retreat for a solid week, grudgingly emerging only to scrounge up food and get fresh batteries when his TV remote went dead. It was in the middle of the night, while he was watching ‘Twilight Zone’ reruns, that Steve crept into the room and sat beside him. No words were spoken, he simply hugged his knees to his chest and sat in silence.

During a break, a Kit-Kat commercial came on. The click and snap of the candy bar and the merry little tune of ‘give me a break, give me a break’ squeaked quietly from the TV and Bucky’s voice was groggy when he spoke.

“This is really hard. Sometimes, I just – I need a break.”

Steve hummed his agreement and through the thick blankets, Bucky felt the comforting pressure of Steve’s hand on his shoulder. “I know. How about you and me make a deal? If things get to be too much and we need a real break, where you just get to be alone, no questions asked – we say that. Say Kit-Kat and everyone’ll back off. It’ll be like a safeword. Okay?”

The pile of blankets is silent, but a minute later Steve hears Bucky’s voice whisper. “Okay.”

“But you can’t use it often,” Steve says firmly. “This is only for the big ones. You only get to use it when you really need it. Deal?”

The ‘Twilight Zone’ theme song buzzes from the TV, playing through the entire refrain, before Bucky’s hand slowly emerges from the pile. He holds it in the air and waits. Steve grips his fingers to shake and without thinking, unconscious movements walk them through the stupid super-secret handshake they created in 1927.

Bucky still wonders how the hell his body remembers these things, when his broken brain couldn’t recall his own name for decades. Steve reminds him some things are like that.

Muscle memory. Some things just stick.

The pact is binding. Rarely used, but unbreakable when granted. Since their agreement, Bucky’s used it twice and Steve’s tried it once. Now, Bucky watches Steve’s jaw working, peanut butter smudged in the corner of his mouth, and he knows Steve wants to argue.

But a promise is a promise.

Steve drops the duffel bag with a muffled thump.

“Alright. But you better fuckin’ call if you need something. None of this ‘I can get by on my own’ bullshit. Understood?”

“Hey man, that line was all you, not me,” Bucky reminds him and Steve grunts irritably. “But yeah, ‘course I will. Thanks buddy.”

Before he hangs up, he gives the phone a mocking salute and a wide smile. Steve rolls his eyes and flips him off, very pointedly pushing the end call button.

Silence surrounds him and his smile fades as he looks around the room. Exhaustion fills him then and his limbs feel like lead. Collapsing onto the bed, he buries his face in her pillow and closes his eyes.

*****

He sleeps for 48 straight hours.

He gets up a few times and stumbles to the bathroom, eyes half closed and leaning against the wall because he can barely keep his balance, but otherwise he’s out cold. The gnarled fingers of the nightmares always strangling him slither up his neck, searching for purchase, but they’re rebuffed. Again and again and again, they bay for his blood, but for some unknown reason they’re pushed away.

What a god damn relief.

*****

It’s late morning on the third day, when the sound of his stomach growling kicks him awake. Huffing out a soft whine as he stretches, he rubs the grit from his eyes and lifts the blanket. Tugging gently at the tape around his bandage, he sees splotches of green and yellow bruising around the area, and finds two wounds that look weeks old, scabby and starting to itch.

“Good morning,” he hears and looks up to find her standing in the doorway with a purple mug of coffee.

“H-,” he croaks, voice rusty with disuse, and he clears his throat and tries again. “Sorry. Hey. Good morning.”

She walks slowly toward the bed, as if not to spook him. Bucky tries to smile, wincing just slightly as he struggles to sit up. Extending the mug, he accepts it gratefully and takes a long drink.

“Damn, that’s amazing. Thank you.”

Returning his easy smile, she motions to the wound and holds up a small scissors. “I can take those stitches out, if you want. Unless you’d prefer to do it yourself.”

Letting an unknown person near him with a pair of scissors seems like less than intelligent behavior, but Bucky’s never been a fan of stitches – putting them in or taking them out. Broken bones, concussions, burns, those are no problem. But anything that includes sewing human flesh together? That’s at the top of his nope scale.

“God yeah. Please.” He throws the blankets aside and swings his legs over the edge of the bed looking up at her. “How do you, um…how do you want me?”

“That’s fine, just sit up straight and, um, if you can – lift up your shirt?” Bucky nods and pulls up his t-shirt, removing his right arm and then hesitating. He ends up with it half-way on, keeping his left arm and the thick red scars around his shoulder, hidden from view. Clearing his throat, he looks into his lap and waits.

Kneeling between his legs, her fingers are freezing when they touch his skin and he flinches slightly.

“Sorry,” she murmurs apologetically, pulling away and rubbing her hands on her thighs. “My hands are always cold.”

“S’okay, just surprised me,” Bucky replies quietly. She glances up with a fleeting smile and goes back to work.

For the strangest reason, he feels himself begin to blush. Which makes no sense, because how many times has he been buck-ass naked in front of doctors and never batted an eye. But now, he swallows self-consciously and maybe he sucks in his stomach and flexes just a little, because for some wild reason, he cares what she thinks.

Which makes no god damn sense.

She doesn’t seem to notice though, tongue between her teeth while she snips carefully at the threads and tugs them loose. Once they’re gone, she squeezes a bit of ointment on, rubbing her thumb gently over the scab, and puts a clean bandage in place.

When she’s finished, she looks up to find him staring awkwardly down, his face flushed a splotchy red.

“Are you okay? Do you feel warm?” She reaches a cool hand to his forehead and Bucky gets flustered.

“No, no,” he says hastily, and he nearly tumbles off the bed when he ducks away. “I’m great. Fit as a fiddle. It’s just the fire, kinda hot in here, and you have lots of blankets and they’re so fluffy, and I’m, yeah. Whew! Hot stuff. Anyway.”

Bucky wants to sink into the floorboards. Hot stuff? What the hell was that?! he groans internally. Have you ever even talked to a woman? Get your shit together you fucking moron!

His verbal stupidity surprises her, but thank god she ignores it. Standing up, she crumples the used bandages.

“If you’re tired, you should keep sleeping. It’s good for you.”

Bucky shakes his head and adjusts his shirt. “I’ve slept more these past few days than the past two months. Usually have - nightmares and things,” he tucks loose hair behind his ear, frowning at the admission, “but I’ve slept perfect here. No nightmares at all.”

Her eyes light up at his admission. “That’s great. I’m glad.”

“Besides, you deserve your bed back.”

“No, you’re recovering, you need to stay in here – ”

Bucky holds up both hands to stop her. “Yeah, no. You’re not winning this one. If it’s still okay, I’d like to stay a couple more days. Pay you back for helping me. But I’m taking the couch downstairs and if you try to make me sleep in here, I’ll sleep downstairs anyway and this very comfortable bed will go to waste.”

Hands on her hips, she raises her eyebrows, staring him down. Bucky feels momentarily cowed, but he gives just as good, so he folds his arms and stares back.

Finally, her lips twitch and he hears a small laugh. The sound makes his blood sing.

*****

The days tick by.

And it goes like this.

Every morning, she comes downstairs to find him sitting on the couch, blankets perfectly folded into neat squares. He hands her a cup of coffee, asks what he can help with today, and her long list of home improvements begins to shrink.

Every evening, she makes supper and they talk, and Bucky quickly realizes how much he enjoys these evenings. It should bother him, he thinks, to feel so oddly at ease with this woman who’s essentially a stranger. But he finds himself sharing bits of himself, absorbing those pieces of herself she hands over. He relaxes more in a few days of knowing her, than in months of living with his team in New York.

Every night, she tells him to sleep well and she climbs the stairs up to her bedroom. He listens as she gets ready for bed, the quiet path of her footsteps a soothing predictability. When the footsteps go silent, he fluffs out a blanket and gets comfortable on the couch, so he can think.

And all through the night, he dozes in fits and starts, staying awake in the darkness to keep watch over this unknown woman who saved his life.

*****

“It’s just always so damn cold out there. You know what I miss? Soup.”

“Hmmm. Soup would be good. What kind?”

“Um…potato? My Ma makes the best damn potato soup. Warms your bones right up.”

“I have some potatoes left in the cellar. Come over tonight, I’ll give it a try.”

*****

“Can I ask what you were doing up here?” she asks, stirring her soup. Bucky ignores caution and dives right in, chomping into a steaming potato and gasping in pain.

“Damn, this is amazing, I love potato soup. Haven’t had it in years,” he enthuses, fanning his mouth. He swallows the scorching bite and takes a swig of water. “So, there used to be an old Hydra base near here. Been abandoned forever, but one of the old distress signals went off. I came up to investigate.”

Fishing in the liquid for another potato, he captures one and looks up to meet a wide-eyed stare.

“I never knew there was a base around here. Did you find anything?” she asks tightly. Bucky sees her fingers clutch the spoon so hard he’s surprised it doesn’t snap.

“No, nothing. It’s happened before, couple other places. Old bases breaking down, tech sparking out,” he says quickly. “Never anything wrong when we get there. It’s nothing to worry about, I promise. Just Hydra shit finally crapping out. It’s a good thing.”

“You’re sure?”

Bucky hears it in her voice. He’s intimately acquainted with the sound of fear. His spoon clinks when he sets it down and he gives her a reassuring smile.

“I’m sure.”

She’s keeps stirring her soup, thinking. When she asks a question, her voice wavers. “The man I shot. Was he Hydra?”

Bucky knows that sound as well. The uncertainty of someone who was caught in the moment, who fought violence with violence. “Yes. He was there about the signal. Asked if I set it off.”

Looking away, she sees their reflection watching from the living room windows. Her face is thoughtful when she considers.

“I shot someone. And I didn’t think twice.”

The movement is purely unconscious. Bucky couldn’t stop it if he tried.

“Thank you,” he says, clutching her fingers and pouring every drop of sincerity into his voice, “for not thinking twice.”

“You’re welcome,” she says faintly. Her fingers press against his for the briefest moment, before she drags her hand back to her lap.

*****

“You ever think about getting rid of that rooster?”

“Are you trying to murder my birds?”

“No! Oh geez, no.”

“How about this - if he’s still alive next time you visit, I’ll make you fried chicken.”

*****

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” she answers, carefully setting fried chicken on a paper towel to cool.

Bucky thinks for a moment and chooses his words carefully. “The last time we met, it was 1969.”

Her shoulders tense, but she nods and avoids his stare. “Yes. It was.”

“You can tell me to fuck off here if you want, but - you don’t look quite old enough for us to know each other then.”

She stays silent, scratching at the edge of the skillet with tongs. He can tell she’s deciding how to answer.

“No. I guess I don’t.” Looking up at him, she sets the utensil in the sink and meets his curious gaze. “I’m – enhanced, I guess. If that’s what they’re calling it these days.”

It makes sense. There must be thousands of enhanced people across the world. So many choose to stay under the radar, uninterested in the circus spectacle that follows anyone who displays even a hint of ability. Bucky thinks of Steve wearing baseball caps all the time, and Wanda dying her hair black and changing her accent, and Bruce avoiding the color green and staying hidden in Tony’s labs all day.

Sometimes being different sucks.

“Got it,” Bucky says. He watches her pick at her chicken and he nudges a little more. “So, you’re enhanced and you…found a good skin cream then?”

She huffs out a laugh.

“That would’ve been nicer. I was born with an ability. It was nothing powerful. Nothing fun,” she says with a trace smile and Bucky feels himself smile in response. “It was passed down in my family. My mother had it, her mother before her. When I was 27, there was an accident. I don’t understand what th – what happened. But here I am.”

Bucky sees the light in her eyes dim, her expression closing off and he desperately wants to keep her talking. He wants to learn more. He wants to learn her.

“Should I assume Hydra was responsible for that accident?” Startled at the comment, she looks up nervously. “Sorry, I’m sorry. I just, when I told you why I was here, you seemed - scared. I know the feeling.”

Swallowing hard, she licks suddenly dry lips. “Yes. They - liked their experiments.”

Bucky gives her a grim smile. “Yeah. They really fuckin’ do, don’t they?” They sit in silence for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts, until Bucky’s curiosity gets the best of him. “What’s your ability?”

With those magic words, it ends. Her expression shutters and she retreats into herself.

“I’m sorry. I’m not comfortable talking about it,” she says quietly. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course,” Bucky replies easily, and he means it. He picks the crispy skin from the chicken leg. “I know what it’s like to be different.”

*****

“You made noodles?”

“A long time ago, when we had plenty of flour and butter. They won’t be as good as the ones you had in Italy though.”

“Nah, those were fascist noodles. I bet your noodles taste better.”

“I would hope so.”

*****

“The food here is fantastic,” Bucky says reverently, piling a second helping of spaghetti on his plate. Maybe he should feel self-conscious at the awkward way he slurps the noodles, but it’s so fucking good he doesn’t care.

She forks the noodles and twirls them into a spoon, grinning at him. Bucky marvels briefly at the effortless gesture.

“Well, I try.”

“You succeed.”

Passing him a basket of bread, she stirs the noodles around her bowl.

“Hey Bucky?

“Hmmm?

“What have you been doing? Since you came back?” she asks tentatively.

There’s a question.

What has he been doing? Revenge. Rounding up the arrogant fucks who escaped the first Hydra purge following DC. Avenging. Throwing himself back into fighting, trying to rebuild his tarnished reputation with the good deeds he owes. All are viable answers, but he goes with a more personal truth, the one that keeps him up at nights.

“Trying to figure myself out, I guess. Learn how to be part of a team again. How the world works, when you’re allowed to make your own decisions. Sorting through memories, trying to make them useful. All that good stuff.”

She takes a drink of wine and seems to gather her courage. “And are you - I mean do you – have you been remembering things?”

The question is so hesitant. Bucky wonders wryly if she’s afraid to hurt his feelings, but it doesn’t matter, he can admit when he has no fucking idea what’s going on. Which is most of the time.

“Some,” he says honestly. “Don’t remember anything from before I was captured. Anything I know, it’s stuff Steve’s told me, or stuff I’ve read. Watched a bunch of documentaries about WW2, that was weird, seeing myself on old film reels. No idea why, but I can’t get to any of those memories, they’re just - obliterated. The ones with Hydra though, they’re reappearing. That’s why I volunteer for jobs like this,” he admits, tearing off a hunk of bread. “Keep thinking if I go back to these places, I can figure out who I was back then.”

“Bucky. Why the hell would you do that to yourself?” she asks sternly. Bucky grins at the tone.

“You sound like Steve. Look, I don’t want to know what I did back then. All the shit I’ve done to other people…all the shit that’s been done to me. Fuck that. I don’t want to know, I need to know. Hard to put yourself back together, when you’re missing huge pieces of the puzzle.”

Bucky looks down at his plate, mopping up spaghetti sauce with his bread. She doesn’t say anything else.

*****

The air is crisp and clean the next night, when Bucky steps outside. Standing on the front porch, he pulls a dark blue knit hat low over his ears and sucks a deep breath, reveling in the freshness that fills his lungs. Mountain sunsets are something incredible to behold and he stops to savor it; the craggy horizon painted brilliant red-orange, deep purple hugging from above, crystal white stars gleaming.

It clears his head in an unexpected way. The scents of snow and pine needles and life. He’d forgotten how reviving life in the wilderness could be. Growing up in Brooklyn, spending most of his life now in Manhattan, he wasn’t exactly an outdoorsy guy. And normally, he hates the snow. Spent far too many years being cold to seek it out, but here? Here, it’s not too bad. The sound of the nearby river bubbling through ice, the smell of wood smoke curling in the air, and – well.

And her.

There’s something strangely calming about her. Her voice, her mannerisms. Her cautious smile. The way she hums while she cooks and how she catches her tongue between her teeth when she’s concentrating. Bucky feels an unusual tug in his belly at the thought. It feeds something he hasn’t really considered since he fought his way back to the land of the living and it’s making him reconsider a few things.

He should probably call Steve tonight. Let him know he’s still knee deep in Kit-Kat mode.

Because right now? Bucky really doesn’t want to leave.

Reaching for the tattered broom leaning by the railing, he sweeps away the couple inches of new snow covering the steps and jumps lightly down. Walking back to her little woodshed, he pops a key into the lock connecting the shed doors and eases the creaking wood open. Rummaging for a few minutes, he piles up a massive armful of logs and carries them back to the bin on her front porch. Three times he makes the trip, arranging the pile carefully, filling it to overflowing, so she won’t need to tramp through the snow to get more.

Maybe tomorrow, he’ll make himself useful and cut more. Manual labor, fresh air. The happy thought makes him giddy.

When he finishes, he flips the lock clasp to bolt it again, but something catches his eye. Peering closer, he finds scratches down the side of the lock. Glinting silver, they look new. Bucky narrows his eyes and glances over his shoulder, into the darkness of the trees beyond.

The world is quiet. Not a breath of wind.

It seems odd, but as she said before – no one ever comes up this way. Likely it’s nothing and she mentioned this lock gave her issues, so maybe it was simply past frustration. Fingering the grooves, he makes a mental note to ask her about it, just in case. Trudging back toward the porch, the scent of pancakes reaches his nose and he leaps eagerly up the first step.

He pulls up short.

It happens then. The brick wall appears.

Bucky feels his brain ricochet from the blow. He wasn’t even searching, but it hits like a hammer, pounding the breath from his lungs and the sound of Steve’s voice fills his head.

“Nah, it was in France, about a year before. SHIELD never returned your bag after – well. After. Who the hell knows though, maybe it’s lost in the archives somewhere. Anyway, there were all these letters you had in there from your girl, maybe they’re something you want.”

“My girl?”

“Yeah, you – your girl. Smart. Beautiful. You were, uh…you were just fuckin’ head over heels. She used to write you all these letters, you kept ‘em stuffed in your bag, ‘Dear Jimmy,’ they always started and – ”

“Stop.”

“Buck – ”

“Stop it Steve, I mean it.”

“Alright, alright, you said you wanted to know, I’m just telling you - ”

“Dammit, just - I don’t wanna remember it. Not right now. Can’t fuckin’ handle hearing about someone else I let down.”

Somewhere in the forest, a bird whistles. The sound brings him crashing back to the present.

Dear Jimmy, he thinks.

Bucky stops breathing.

*****

There’s an old jazz song on the radio perched above her sink, and she turns the dial up. Tapping her feet to the brassy beat, she moves through the small kitchen, humming. Pancakes, eggs, bacon. Breakfast at supper. For some reason it’s always a treat, no matter how old you are.

She’s mixing batter when she hears the quiet click of the closing door, and she sets the bowl down and turns to look at him with a grin.

“Look, I know you said you don’t like your pancakes burnt, but I think you should just try – ”

Her voice fades when she sees him. Bucky stands before her, the blue knit cap clenched in his hands. Dark hair sticks in every direction and he pushes it back, trying to coax it smooth, and she sees his fingers tremble. His face is pale and his bright blue eyes watch her closely.

“Bucky? Are you okay?”

He opens his mouth and closes it. Twice. Unable to find the words.

“Are you hurt?” she tries again, wiping her hands on a dish towel and coming forward. “What happened?”

Holding up a hand, he stops her and moves to sit on the edge of an armchair. Chewing his lip for a full minute, he finally finds his voice.

“I have a question. I need you to answer me with the truth.”

“Okay,” she says hesitantly. She moves to the living room and sinks slowly to the chair opposite him. She pinches her lip nervously and Bucky feels his heart spasm. He keeps watching her, willing himself to pull up the correct memories and failing. Finally, he gives up and whispers.

“Am I Jimmy? Were you waiting for me that night?”

Her expression never changes, but he sees her breathe faster, chest rising and falling quickly. The answer is clear. Closing her eyes, she exhales a long breath.

“Yeah. You – yes. Yes. You were, you are – him. You’re Jimmy.” Opening her eyes, he sees them shiny with tears and when she blinks, they spill over. “I was waiting for you that night.”

Silence stretches longer and longer and Bucky finally realizes his lungs are burning. He lets out his breath with rush and leans forward. Elbows on his knees, he tries with everything in his heart, to remember.

“We’d met? Before then? We knew each other?”

She sits up straight, never breaking eye contact. Wiping her cheeks with the back of her hand, she searches for the right words. Bucky feels his heart thump wildly while he waits; her voice is laced with sadness when she speaks.

“The first time we met was in 1944. I was wearing grey and you were wearing blue.”

*****

Next Chapter

*****

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