#PUT THE BREAD KNIFE DOWN BACK AWAY FROM THE TOMATO

[cheapcheapfaker]

i think about that tik tok that had its rounds around here about, i believe, German vs Vietnamese hospitality? Where the German thought the dinner would be done but the Vietnamese thought the host and guest would be cooking together. And I present a third option where I’d love to help you cook dinner but if you hand me a rainbow cuisinart knife and a glass cutting board i am killing myself in your kitchen immediately except the blade is so dull i have to do it real sloppily and its going to take a while

[gadriezmannsgirl]

Protection Bubble -P.G

Summary: You are clumsy and that makes your boyfriend, Pablo want to put you inside a protection bubble

You were clumsy, everyone who knew you could see that whenever you cut while washing the dishes, trip over your shoelaces, trip over your footing and even trip over air.

You had problems with this mostly with your boyfriend, Pablo. He hated seeing you with you wrist in a cast, band aids on your fingers and that's because he never wanted something bad happening to you, you were his life, his love, his forever and he couldn't bear the fact of losing you over a simple and smallest thing.

Sometimes you liked to think he was extra and overreacted but you loved his protective nature.

While cuddling with him, you felt your stomach asking for a little snack and you went to get up but his strong arms kept you in place

"Where do you think you're going young lady?" He whispered to not disturb your group of friends

"Amor, tengo hambre" You said "I'll get a little snack and be right back"

"Don't take too long, yeah?" You nod smiling "Be careful and bring enough for the two of us" You smiled nodding leaving a peck in his lips

"Going to the kitchen?" Pedri asked you as you nodded "I'll go with you because I'm also hungry" You smiled knowing what that meant, he would get a drink and make you do another thing of whatever you're doing for yourself for him too

You went to the refrigerator and pulled out two avocados, onion, tomato and a bit of cabbage to make a salad and pulled out as well the bread package "Will you do me a favour of washing this please?" You passed him the cabbage as he murmured a sure "You ate two of this, right?"

"Three, you're making that delicious salad and I'm crazy for it" You laugh mentally counting three for Pablo, three for Pedri and two for you.

You cutted the onion, the tomato, the cabbage and was left the avocados. The first one you cut it easily and swiftly. You peeled it and pulled it on a different plate for Pedri.

When you got to the other one, you noticed this one wasn't that ripe, but it was edible. You cut a little triangle first and then tried to go all the way.

But it was very hard, it could not be cut easily, you applied more pressure to the knife and soon you hissed noticing the amount of blood that was coming out of your palm. The avocado had flown away from your grasp making easily the knife cut a long stripe on your hand

"Hijo de-" Pedri cursed

"It's not that bad!" You said quickly putting the hand under the water trying to see how bad it was, you hissed when the water hit your skin

"I'll call Pablo"

"No! He will only worry, this isn't bad, I promise just a little cut"

"Little cut? ¿Estás loca? You're full on bleeding!"

"Ni tanto, my intestines won't come out" You replied

"I'll go and call him, I don't want him mad at me"

"You don't want who being mad at you?" Pablo asked

"No one!" You replied but Pedri gave you a look

"What's wrong?" Pablo furrowed his eyebrows

"Nothing's wrong, bebé"

"What are you doing there, Y/N?" He asked serious slowly walking over

"Nothing, just washing my hands"

"Really? Let me see"

"No!" You exclaimed but it was already late, Pablo had leaned over the sink and saw the blood coming out from your hand

"¡Maldición!" He cursed out grabbing a napkin from the counter, he closed the water and grabbed your hand "Joder, Y/N!" He growled

"It's not that bad, I swear"

"It's not that-?" He cut himself off looking at Pedri but before he could speak Pedri beated him to it

"Don't look at me, I told her to tell you, she refused" Pedri grabbed his plate, three breads and left you both to it, saving himself from any kind of lecture.

Pablo looked back at you and pulled you out of the kitchen "C'mon" He said sternly taking you to your shared bedroom, he sat you down on the bed "Press it hard" He said before disappearing into your bathroom to return a few minutes later with the first aid kit "Let me see" He spoke serious and his eyebrows were furrowed

You didn't like him like that, it was when he was mad

"Sorry" You murmur after a while in silence, you hissed almost retracting your hand away when he pressed a little too hard "I didn't meant to cut myself, you know?" You heard him sigh

"I know" He said softly "I just don't want anything bad happening to you"

"I know that" You said "The avocado wasn't cooperating with me and I'm hungry" Pablo let a small smile appear

"I can never be mad at you" He said looking at you "But I don't like you being this clumsy, I fear everytime I see you good one moment and at the other you have a cast on your ankle or a bruise on your hip because a fall or something... I'm afraid one that those little falls and hits could turn into something horrible, I want you to take care of yourself better"

"I do take care of myself" He pressed a bit hard against your hand as you yelled out a bit "¡Pablo!"

"The cut isn't that deep" He said "But it's extremely long, all of your palm, Y/N" He said sighing looking for the spray "This will sting a little" He warned but still you hissed when the coldness hit your wound "Sorry" He murmured kissing the inside of your wrist and your cut along your palm, he then tralled his kisses along your clothed shoulder, your neck, jaw, cheek and finally lips "I love you" He whispered

"I love you too" You whispered back "I promise I'll take care of myself better" He smiled

"Great because if you don't then I'll have to put you inside one of these big protection bubbles" He made you laugh as he got up looking for a band aid

"Would you be inside it with me?" You asked smiling hard

"Of course I would, I can't live without your touch so it's both of us inside that thing" He pulled out two band aids "Now, Mickey Mouse or Hello Kitty?"

"Mickey Mouse" You replied "And what about your trainings?"

"You'll do training with me?" You fake laughed at that

"¡Mira que jurasssteeee que yo haré eso!" He laughed putting the aid on your palm

"All nice and done" You smiled up at him watching him lean down to kiss it once more

"Ay" You complained pulling out your best hurt face

"What's wrong?"

"My lips are hurting too" You whine "Gimme a kiss?" He smiled but leaned in to kiss you without complaining

"Better?" You hummed

"I think another one will do better" Gavi shook his head kissing you softly until your stomach growled

"Joder" Gavi laughed "Let's finish that delicious salad you made"

"Will you feed me?"

"Of course" He pulled you into his side and kissed your head "You're my baby"

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Tag list: @gaviypedrisbride

[thoumhawife]

BakuSquad Cooking Mishaps

Katsuki Bakugo

In Bakugos words, it was less of a mishap and more of an experiment. Which in reality it was him trying to make really spicy chicken

Bakugo’s “Super Spice” was a combination of a shit load of spicy stuff, put it all in the blender…. The blender blew up

Safe to say Aizawa forbid him from cooking in the kitchen for a long while, he also had to clean the kitchen for 2 weeks, mainly bc that’s how long it took to get all the spice mixture out of some crevasses

Bakugo did demand thank you’s from all the sick students bc the smell cleared their sinuses

Ejiro Kirishima

Kirishima was taking cooking classes as he told Bakugo that he’d be the cook while he was doing his work study

While cooking spaghetti for the class he put the pot on the stove and threw the spaghetti in

He was half way through making the sauce when he and the others started smelling something burning

He opened the oven expecting it to be the garlic bread he threw in a few minutes ago, to checking everything before finally looking at the pot and seeing that he put no water in the pot and the spaghetti noodles started to burn away

From the on Bakugo started making the food earlier if he had something to do at his work study

Denki Kaminari

Denki was baking with Sato, having fun learning to bake shit and doing his own thing

Sato had to run out of the kitchen to go to the store to grab some vanilla extract which left Denki in the kitchen…alone

Denki put everything that he needed into the bowl, doing very well, he chopped up the fruits on the cutting board…oven beeped letting everyone around, know that it was pre heated.

Denki threw the fruits in and continued mixing the cake batter, adding in some sprinkles and other candies to make it known that he was the one who made it

Sato gets back and runs into the kitchen and sees Denki searching frantically for the fruit he had chopped up.

“Hey Sato! I made the cake batter just can’t find the fruit” Sato let him search alone, figuring he must’ve ate them and was coming up with an excuse when he seen that the oven was fully pre heated

“Kaminari, did you put anything’s into the oven?” Denki turned around and looked at the oven and his eyes widened

The inside of the oven was on fire and the cutting board was melted.

Mina Ashido

He and the girls were making cupcakes for everyone, having the time of their lives, playing music and eating frosting

Everyone had a job, Mina’s was making the batter. She was on a roll, making a whole batch worth of batter in minutes

She had everything she needed next to her little work station, the other girls doing there stuff.

The flour next to the sugar, the salt in between them, the eggs next to the milk, the vanilla extract next to the butter. The whisk sitting comfortably in the bowl the counter having some batter from Mina getting a little too rowdy

She added everything she need, the flour, the small amount of salt that was need the 2-3 eggs, the milk and vanilla extract.

She passed the batter off to Tsu who put them in the tin and passed them off to Uraraka who put them in the oven.

After Uraraka took them out and passed them to Yayorozou who took them out of the tin and put the wrappings on it and passed it off to Jiro who frosted them and gave them to Hagakure who decorated them and put them off a plate.

Oncethey finished they all took one and unlucky for most of them they got the saltiest cupcake ever. Mina mixed up the sugar with salt and had to taste all the cupcakes and make whole new batches.

Hanta Sero

He was casually making himself grilled cheese for lunch, got a can of tomato soup out to because why the hell not.

He started cooking the soup as he buttered the pan for the grilled cheese. He’s got the bread and cheese out.

He’s confident, ready to get his food and go back to his room to watch marvel movies. He placed the knife down on the edge of the pan as he threw down the bread on the pan along with the cheese and last piece of bread.

Sero’s grabbing a spatula to flip the grill cheese then the smell of burning plastic hit him. Confused he started looking around. Then his eyes landed on it

Sero wasn’t even high yet, he planned to be during his marvel movie marathon but right now he was fine and yet he stilled used a plastic knife and left it on the hot pan under his grilled cheese

He had to scrap the melted plastic off the pan and make a whole new grilled cheese and had to eat it with lukewarm tomato soup

[prismartist]

A Stew and Dance

part 4 of To break bread, the series about soulbounds and food.

Ao3

–––

“Me-nu-do.” Jimmy pronounces each syllable carefully. “Is that like, Italian?”

“Spanish, actually. Well, the actual dish is from the Philippines. It’s a tomato stew, kinda. It’s got potatoes and carrots and pork.”

“Oh my gosh, thank goodness, I was starting to get sick of beef.” Jimmy turns to pat one of the cattle. “No offence.”

Tango grins. “I don’t think they’ll be offended that you’re not eating them, Jimmy.”

Jimmy laughs. “True, true.” 

The noontime light streams through the windows, washing everything in a comforting golden warmth. Jimmy softens as he watches Tango, who hums as he drops pork into a pot of water, covering it afterwards and leaving it to boil on the furnace. He then takes the garlic and crushes it, peeling the broken skin off and depositing it in their compost bin—a leather bag—before chopping the cloves. The rhythmic sound is satisfying as Tango expertly and quickly minces them up, and Jimmy can’t help but admire how easily he seems to do it.

The whole atmosphere is… nice, really. It's the most relaxed Jimmy's felt in the two weeks he's been here. It's definitely a nice change of pace from the… well, the arson. But it seems Scar's had his satisfaction for now, so he and most of the server are dormant or too caught up in their own petty squabbles. Jimmy's sure the time will come when chaos will break out again, but for now, it's him and Tango, peacefully cooking menudo. It’s very nice. He definitely knows that Tango needs the peace.

…wait he should probably help Tango shouldn't he.

Pushing himself off the fence, Jimmy sheepishly walks up to his soulmate, and asks, “Hey, can I help?”

Tango turns to him, wide-eyed. “Oh! Oh yeah sure, uhh here.” He grabs an extra knife and hands it to Jimmy, who barely stifles a squeak upon seeing the sharp blade come at him. Tango notices, and tilts his head in amusement. “Don’t tell me you’re not used to chopping food,” he teases.

“N-no, I’m plenty familiar with it. I’m also just…” Jimmy gingerly takes the knife, “...very careful.”

Tango chuckles and turns back to the garlic. “Fair, fair. You can chop the onions.”

“Oh… okay.” Jimmy adjusts to the knife’s weight, then takes an onion. He peels it, cuts it in half, and starts to chop. 

The sting comes soon enough. 

“Ohhh, no,” he mutters as his vision goes blurry with involuntary tears. He tries to fight through, using what remains of his vision to keep chopping, but it feels like his eyeballs are on fire.

“Jimmy?” The warble in Tango’s voice makes it clear that he’s also feeling it. “Don’t tell me you did what you just did?”

“I’m sorry, I just-” Jimmy carefully puts down the knife and raises a hand to wipe his eyes.

“NOOO!” Tango grabs Jimmy by the wrist and drags him over to the sink. “Wash your hands first, then wash your eyes! You’ll get more onion in them if you do that.”

“Auuuouuughhhh,” replies Jimmy, who at this point can’t see a single thing. His head starts throbbing from the dehydration and how hard he’s shutting his eyes.

Jimmy washes off all the remaining residue on his hands, and Tango takes it upon himself to wash his eyes. He slowly waits for his vision to return and the pain to fade. 

Tango sighs. “I’ll do the onions, okay? You can do the carrots.”

As the wooden walls and Jimmy’s tired reflection in the water comes back into view, he sighs. “Yeah, maybe that’s fair.”

Tango explains later that the trick is to cut the onion in half, and then place the inside part facing down, so the fumes don’t waft up. Jimmy swears, swears, that he did do that, and Tango just smiles and says he believes him. 

So the onions are chopped, placed on a plate well away from Jimmy, along with the garlic. Tango busies himself with the potatoes, Jimmy the carrots. He carefully peels and dices them according to Tango’s instruction. He looks over to the pot, where the water has been boiling for a good couple of minutes; Jimmy’s aware because he’s right next to it, and has been uncomfortably feeling the steam slowly warm the right side of his face. He notes that the pork has greyed considerably. He informs Tango, who goes to drain the pot and transfer the pork to a bowl. He tells Jimmy to stir the garlic, onions, and tomato sauce in the now-empty pot, and Jimmy does so. Soon the fragrant scent fills the room, thankfully overpowering the smell of the cows. However Jimmy’s arm is starting to get a bit weary, and though the task is nice, it’s still mundane enough for his mind to start drifting. 

It drifts to a song, a jaunty pop tune, which starts looping. Absetmindendly, Jimmy starts humming it, then, quietly, sings the first lyrics.

“Heeeyy,” he sings in falsetto, “Hey, baby. Ooh, ah.” He smiles. “I wanna know…”

“If you’ll be my girl.”

Jimmy whips his head to look at Tango, who stares back with a wide grin. “‘Hey Baby’, right?”

“I- uh, yeah!” Jimmy grins back. “You know it?”

“Of course I do.” Tango takes a breath, and continues as he scoops up the diced pork and deposits the pieces in the pot, “Hey, hey baby!”

“Ooh! Ah! I wanna-”

“Hold on, hold on, what’s that part?”

“What?” 

“The ‘ooh, ah’ thing, what is that?”

Jimmy pauses his stirring to give a puzzled look. “It’s part of the song.”

“Not in the version I remember. Also, don’t let the pork burn, it’ll stick to the pan.”

“Oh right, sorry.” Jimmy resumes stirring. “It’s in the DJ Otzi song! Don’t you know it?”

“DJ who?” 

Jimmy gapes. “The guy who- wait, how’d you know the song, then?”

“Bruce Channel? The guy who first sang it in the sixties?”

“It’s from the sixties??”

Tango looks beyond aghast. He turns away, to the bowl of pre-prepared water, waving a hand. “Just- stir the pork, I need to process this.”

“You don’t mean that,” Jimmy says, indignant.

“How do you not know it’s by Bruce Channel, it’s a classic!”

“Surely I’m not at fault for this!”

Tango simply pours in the water in silence, and Jimmy sighs.

After a short amount of time has passed, with Jimmy stirring and Tango putting in seasoning and the rest of the vegetables, Jimmy smirks.

“Ooh.” He giggles with a shit-eating grin, and Tango groans, though a smile starts to form on his face. Jimmy barks out a full laugh and continues, “Ah!”

“I don’t even know why you’d include tha-”

“I wanna know!” Jimmy continues singing at full volume, throwing a hand into the air. “If you’d be my girl!”

Tango finally drops the act and beams, singing back, “When I saw you walking down the street.” He starts to bop his head, just slightly. “I said, that’s the kind of gal I’d like to meet!”

“She’s so pretty, lord, she’s fine—” Jimmy yanks the ladle out of the stew and puts it near his mouth, making Tango shriek at the splatter, “—sorry! I’m gonna make her-”

They sing together: “Mine all mine!”

Jimmy starts to step back, shimmying a bit as he does, and Tango follows with eagerness as they sing, “Hey, hey baby!”

“Ooh, ah!” Jimmy can’t help but keep in, giggling at Tango’s exasperation.

“I wanna know, if you’ll be my girl.”

Jimmy reaches out his free hand, and Tango takes it. “Hey, hey baby!” he starts again. They guide each other in an impromptu freestyle, something vaguely reminiscent of a boogey. “I wanna know, if you’ll be my girl.”

“Pretty sure there’s supposed to be just one chorus there?” Tango asks.

“Is there? I dunno, just go with it.” He holds the ladle closer to his face again. “When you turned and walked away, that's when I wanna say-” he moves the ladle to Tango, who smiles wider at the prompt.

“Come on, baby, give me a whirl.” He leans closer to the “microphone” as he sings louder, “I wanna know if you'll be my girl! Hey-”

“No, it goes ‘I wanna know, I wanna know’-”

“It does not!”

“Yes it does!” As a distraction technique, Jimmy throws Tango into a twirl, and Tango yelps with surprise while Jimmy quickly moves into the next part. “When you turned and walked away, that’s when I wanna say, come on baby-” He moves closer to the now-exasperated Tango, crouching a bit so he’s just under eye level, swinging his shoulders to the beat as he looks up at his partner. Tango smiles as he does so. “Give me a whirl!” He moves the ladle between them, and Tango jumps back in.

“I wanna know if you’ll be my girl!”

Tango drags Jimmy in closer, catching him off-guard, but he quickly adjusts, their position now more reminiscent of a traditional partner dance. Jimmy still holds up the ladle, however awkward. They step and sway to the tempo with unfaltering energy. “Hey, hey baby!” 

“Ooh, ah!” Tango adds, and Jimmy gasps. 

“You said the ooh ah!”

“Sure did!”

Together again: “I wanna know, if you’ll be my girl.” 

As revenge, Tango twirls Jimmy, who only shouts “Hey!” and laughs. 

“Hey, hey baby! Ooh, ah, I wanna know, if you’ll be my girl!”

They continue singing the chorus for a while, both forgetting how many times it’s repeated, as they dance together around the room with wide grins, throwing each other into a twirl everyone once in a while. At one point, Jimmy dips Tango, who squeaks in delight. 

(He asks Jimmy how he learned to do it; Jimmy can’t remember, but he remembers flowers.)

It’s a bright scene, golden light streaming over the boys as they sing until their throat becomes sore, and the delicious smell of menudo growing ever stronger. 

Hold on.

“The menudo!” Jimmy exclaims, and Tango only yells as they both scramble over to the pot. Jimmy quickly dips the ladle back in and stirs, marvelling at the rich red colour it’s accumulated. He feels his heart sink a bit upon seeing that the stew at the bottom had stuck slightly and turned a darker colour, but upon scraping it off easily, it seems fine. 

“Is it good?” Tango asks. “Quick, taste it.”

Jimmy does, blowing a bit on it before taking a sip. It was still a bit watery, but Jimmy hums pleasantly at the flavour, the pork clearly having been assimilated into the tomato sauce. He scoops up a piece of pork as well and tries it. The fat easily shreds and melts on his tongue. “It’s good!” he reports with delight, and Tango makes a relieved sound. “It’s on its way, dude. Here, try.”

Tango hums too upon tasting. “Oooh, dude that’s great!” He grins wide, his eyes glimmering. “I’ll add a bit more salt and pepper, but hey, that’s not bad!”

Jimmy nods, taking back the ladle and continuing to stir. He takes the moment to calm his breath—he hadn’t realised how much the spontaneous dancing had taken out of him. Tango watches serenely as he starts to put away the knives and plates for later cleaning. While he does so, he hums.

“Hey, hey baby. Ooh, ah.”“I wanna know,” they sing together, quietly in the afternoon warmth, and harmonies wafting with the menudo’s scent, “if you’ll be my girl.”

[reddogf13]

Outlast 2: Deliverance CH 4

Also on A03

Status: Incomplete

Rated: M - Dead Dove Do Not Eat This takes place in the Outlast 2 universe after all.l.

Previous chap: CH 3: Atonement

Next chap: CH 5: Deluge

_______________

~Ch:4 Eucharist~

Blake handed out basic orders to everyone else. “Fix what you can. Gather up everything that could be useful.” They spread from him down the town streets. Some fixing their own houses that collapsed from the major storm. Gathering chunks of metal buried partly in the mud. Barbwire taken down wherever it remained tied.

He went out to find the farmers followed by Marta. They were working on gathering what they could. Hanging the cobs looking mostly dark. A few rotten tomatoes on a table having its seeds plucked out. A few sacks of potatoes covered in fresh roots set aside. Approaching James to check in. “How are things going?”

“Better than first expected. Scoured the fields and found all of that left in the dirt.” Waving the knife he was using toward the collected stuff. Using the blade to scrape out more seeds from mushy tomatoes. “The potatoes were at the back of the barn regrowin' on their own. We can plant them right away if you want?”

“Uh… What do you use to water all of this? The lake and river?”

“River only, why?”

“I don't know if it's poisoned or not. There were a lot of dead fish when I crossed the lake.”

“Yeah, we worried about that. Many of us noticed it depends on which part you were at. Down round the main river the mines leached out to it. Spreading further into the lake. Anybody who drank from there suffered some serious illness. Us, meanwhile on the split river creek did fine. Long as you didn't eat the fish jumping up and down river rapids in between.”

“So the creeks fine, but fish aren't?”

“We can strictly take northern river water and be safe. Otherwise there ain't much more we can do. Canned food we can live off of a little while longer. Have to mention though that our pantries are gettin' tight. Something Knoth always made a point of not mattering.” James repeatedly side eyed Marta for a reaction. Faking the priest's voice next. “ “Ignore your empty bellies for soon we'll be feasting off God's harvest in heaven.”. ” Dropping the act. “I think he sang a different tune in private.”

“True. Can't live strictly off hunting for forever. Sounds like you didn't have the same faith.”

“Hard to after a while.” Watching Marta. “Faith works like food. Can be good for ya or bad. With Knoth we had a black moldy loaf of bread. Starved, we ate in the hopes it'd kill the pains. Deep down I think we all knew it only made things worse. Made us sick from the inside out. Might take some longer than others to see it. This place used to be better, not so rotten, although I admit it still had its dark spots that we ignored. I pray from here we can get better.”

Blake breathed out a “Yeah.” Telling James to plant the potatoes despite the concern about their water. Asking next. “What's with all the tall fences and barbed wire?” Didn't know you could put corn in a max security prison.

“Couple reasons, Thieves or escapees. Certain people ate first and the rest got desperate for scraps.”

“Mm, I don't think it's necessary anymore. Break them down If you have some free time.” Finishing his check in. Passing through town to try and find the group of hunters. Wanting to learn himself how to trap and forage. Marta limping beside him had him think of what she should be doing. Can't be an enforcer anymore, shouldn't have been in the first place. I guess every town needs a sheriff to break up disputes though. Won't have to kill anyone, she's intimidating enough to stop people from fighting. But her limp could drag her down if things get serious. Feeling bad that she was limping to follow him everywhere. “You don't have to come. You can rest at home if that's better for you.”

“No.” She stated then spoke out what sounded like an excuse. “I won't miss the word of a visiting Angel.”

“I'm not- … What if the angel tells you to go home?”

She let out a rough hum. “... Then I'll go home.”

“Then go home.” He stopped and so did she.

An annoyed bible verse mumbled before she asked. “What will you be doing?”

“Learn how to trap and forage until the day ends. I'll come back and maybe we'll all get to eat something that's not canned. Go home and rest your ankle.”

“It's fine, I can still move.”

“You shouldn't be walking on it. I'm ordering you to go rest.” Smiling at her mumbled along verses when turning to leave. Splitting with one heading up the mountain and the other down. Traveling around the forest while keeping Temple Gate in sight he found the group of hunters. Gathering around a cluster of berry bushes. Listening to John explain trapping while they worked. Blake was greeted as he joined in. Caught up to where they were in the lesson. Reported to on where rabbit wires were set in the hopes they'd snag something. Based on how many baskets of berries they collected he hoped everyone would get at least a small bowl's worth. Having some luck with the rabbit wires. Not enough for everyone between the small numbers caught. It turned into a topic of who would get some.

John stated what felt like the obvious. “You should take one.”

“No, there are a lot worse than me.” Wish I could feed everyone with a single rabbit. “Think we'll find anything else today?” Taking in the sun approaching the horizon.

“Maybe, up on the mountain side we used to find a ton of edible plants. Wild onions to carrots were up there. Don't know how much we'll find now. Since heretics were running rampant all through these woods.”

Blake nearly choked on his spit at the mention. “You think we'll see any?”

“I'm sure we won't. This is considered a bit far from where they normally spread out. Long as we keep heading west toward the sun set.”

“Mm… If we do find anything we could try and make a soup. Boil everything in a big pot, if we have one. Keep starvation back for a day.”

“Sounds good. I know a lot of leafy greens that should be up there. Not as filling as actual vegetables, but good for now… What will you do about the heretics?”

“... I don't know. … Feels weird calling them heretics still. They were just people who wanted to escape Knoth.” Stomach churning on the topic. “I rather not get involved unless I have to.” Ending the topic there to press forward up the mountain. Collecting various edible plants that satisfied Blake's needs for a soup. No carrots, but they found onions along with a collection of mushrooms on a tree. Their group took a break at the mountain's top to eat a small collection of edible flowers. Some weren't flavorful while some were a bit sour like lemons. Blake winced at his shoved down handful making him drool excessively. Unsure if chewing them of flavor felt better compared to harshly swallowing early. At least he caused others to chuckle at his ridiculous eating. Happy to have a little something in his stomach after so long. “Think we'll make it back by nightfall?”

“Just about.” John partly covered his eyes to see how low the sun was set. “Dinners gonna be late by the time we finish cooking it.” Carving bits out of a branch making the rough shape of a fox.

“Heh, I used to carve stuff like that. Haven't since I left scho-” His happy memory ruined by another. Jessica... I should have carved a rock for her too. Even if it's been years. By the change in Blake's expression John offered him the small carving knife.

“You can have it if you want. They're easy to make.”

“You sure?” He perked up at the small gift.

“Yeah, got five more at home. I lose them constantly.”

“Thanks.” He glanced around him for something to carve. I could make something to place at the graves. Locking onto a dead looking sapling sticking straight from the ground. Its measly branches bare of any leaves with its bark sun bleached white. Tall yet thin enough to fully grasp with a hand. Should be easy enough to take a chunk off. Grabbing onto the whole thing to yank back. Discovering it to be far sturdier than it looked. Shoving it back and forth to yank its roots free.

“Uh, I could find you some wood?” John offered. Watching Blake continue to struggle against the dead sapling.

“No, I'm not letting this tree win.” Blake joked through his fight. Ripping it enough to pop it free of the earth. Coming out with it was a smooth rock the sapling grew around. “Wow.” He turned it over for a closer look. No wonder it was so sturdy. Dirt brushed away from the roots thick as its own branches. Taking in the whole thing he was excited to start carving. Wanting to spare a lot of it with only a few extra twigs shaved off its branched top. Woodworking was one of the few classes he loved and was exceptionally well at. He cleaned the sapling of any sprouting branches down to a long straight shape. Smaller stringy roots snipped away for a cleaner look. Preserving the smooth rock it had attached itself to. Carving the rough shape of a snake winding down its long length. The head of it coiled just under the rock in a winded back position. Threatening to strike out from under the rock. That was as far as he got before they started to head back. Blake worked hard to carefully carve out the criss crossing scales down the serpent.

Forced to stop when it got too dark to work. Pausing for the moment when they returned to the dining hall. Setting up a whole makeshift process to cook dinner for a mass of starving people. Huge pots gathered to cook chunks of prepared rabbit followed by the various veg. Collected baskets of berry's delicately spread out by the cupful. If there were any extras they'd be put aside for tomorrow. The town was gathered in to be lined up for their dinner. Pots brought out to a bar top outside the kitchen doors for soup to be poured into bowls. Given a cup of berries as a strange side of sorts, but nobody was complaining.

Blake skipped eating for now to finish his carving in the kitchen. Off to the side was a small carved out dove. A fake banner around its neck donning the name Jessica. He planned to place it soon on the stone graves. Smoothing out the last few angles of the rattlesnake currently. Smiling over his finished staff of white turned black surrounding the stone still attached. Its shape resembled a bulky hammer that would surely kill someone if slammed down hard enough. Various open areas between the snake lightly carved to show imprints of leafy ground litter. Satisfied that no more needed to be done he left the kitchen to find Marta. Asking around he found out she finished eating a while ago and was back on patrol. He ignored any offerings of food to take before going back out. Wanting to give the walking staff to her soon as possible. Running around in the dark for her going by vague memories of her patrol. Eventually she found him first, leaning against a building to catch his breath.

“Come to find me, Angel?”

“Yes, and you don't have to call me that. Blake's fine.” Wheezing for more air. “Made you this.” Offering her the walking staff. She inspected it up and down without a move to take it. In fact she leaned away from it. Realizing he'd have to do some convincing. “I thought you would need it to walk. It's lighter than the … Last thing. ... Pretty sure with the rock you could still crack a skull.” Based on her negative reaction he was quick to follow up with. “But I saw it more of a defense thing. Better to have and not need than the other way. Everything's fine now, but if anybody needed saving I'm sure you can do it. I promise that I'll never ask you to kill anyone.”

Given an honest promise she took the staff from him. A soft spoken. “Thank you.” given back.

“Welcome.” Turning to visit the child's graves next.

“You want me to watch the streets tonight?” Using the staff to walk more smoothly by his side.

“Well, you don't have to. If people want to run they can.”

“What about the heretics?”

“... Yeah. Keep an eye out. Just scare them away, you don't have to hurt them… Should stop calling them heretics too.” Delicately placing Jessica's white dove between some stones across the grave site.

“Then what are they?”

He walked silent as he thought of a new term. Can't call them outsiders. I didn't like that when Knoth used it against me. Strangers? But they're not really. Could call them survivors, but isn't everyone? Just use them or people, but if we need to talk about them it could get confusing. Them just seems rude and ostracizing. Developing a headache from the running in circles he was doing. Settled on a label he himself thought was stupid, but felt right. “Goats.”

“Goats?” Marta's brows furrowed. “Why that?”

“It sounds better that the mountains are infested by goats then heretics.”

“What shall goats be called then when differentiating?”

“They'll be heretics.” Letting out a light chuckle. Marta let out an amused puff of air while giving him a questioning look. It was the first time he didn't see Marta so depressingly serious.

“If that's what the angel wants. I'll watch out for visits by “Goats”.”

“Make sure you get some sleep.”

“More plans for tomorrow?”

“Nothing like today. More rebuilding, more hunting for food.” Entering the dining hall to collect his serving. Long cold by now from when it was set aside. “It takes so long to gather everyone. I don't want to interrupt things so often.”

“The speaker horns still work after the storm. I can see the green light out the room's window. It was the best way for word to travel without physically doing so.”

Ugh, then I have to use something Knoth touched. Finishing his small meal. “Can you show me?”

“I can.” Leading him off toward a large two story house. Neighboring the compound near the helicopter crash site. Fully white with pillars lining the front with a second story balcony. The two front doors boarded over where the glass panels were broken out. A green light shown through a front lower window. Blake checked the doors and found them unlocked. Stepping through he saw the insides far more decorated then other places. Nice large rugs covering the floors. Many paintings covering walls blocked by fine carvings and vases.

Stepping to the radio room he saw Marta staying back outside. “Not coming?”

“This was Knoth's home.”

Of course it is. “Oh… Well, he's not here anymore.” Coaxing her to step inside. Waiting for her to duck under the doorway before moving deeper inside. Taking in the long set up radio controls. Most he figured out were to alert what was connected and what wasn't. The ones on were green, but many more were blacked out. “Do you know where “Eastern top road” is?”

“A road leading up toward goat infested forest.”

“Makes sense.” Other unlit labels saying eastern this or that. John said the goats were spreading out around there. Pressing a button that was labeled “talk”. “Testing.” His voice heard loud and clear from outside. “Heh, still works.” His smile dropped when he found an orange medicine bottle sitting out not far. Swiping it to read the label. “Prescribed to Ethel Garrison. Penicillin G Benzathine - (100mg) to be taken twice daily for 14 days.” Hmm, still in date. Must've bought these from someone recently. Pouring himself a couple to swallow down dry. “We need to find more of these.” Holding the bottle up for Marta to see.

“... Those aren't study aids, are they?”

“No, They're antibiotics for all the diseases around here. I said he could've helped the scalled at any time. These are how.” Rattling the bottle before setting it in a pocket on his vest. Facing her, she had a burning glare pointed toward the floor. “Did you know?”

“None were allowed to ask, but still others spoke about- ... I was told to quiet them…”

“How'd people know? A guess?”

“Us who are older once lived on the outside. Convinced by Knoth and rejected by others, we followed him en masse. 'till we settled here. I was far younger then.”

“You've been outside? How long ago?”

“Mm.” She hummed in thought. “'Bout more than 40 years past since.”

“That's - that's a while.” He nervously chuckled. “Has anyone been out recently?”

“Jacob has. His last visit may have been a month away now. He was sent out to lead a small group for buyin’ a list. Stuff we couldn't make like gas for the generator, “study aids”, to name a few. Don't remember seein' his fellow travelers around.”

“We'll have to find him tomorrow. It's time for another trip.” Leaving the radio room to snoop around the place. Drawers filled by many other bottles left empty. More canned food Blake noted to take back when done. Upstairs he found an office covered in drafts of his gospel. Swept away into the trash bin until it was over filled by Blake. Buried under a pile of fallen papers was a huge floor safe. “Whoa, wonder what Knoth's got in here.” He grabbed an iron poker by the empty fireplace. Using it as a makeshift crowbar to stab along the sides. Managing to stab it in between the door to force it up. He could wedge it enough to see the door bending up, but not enough to break it. Even with him leaning his whole weight onto the bar.

“Want me to try?”

Blake couldn't answer through his wheezing, giving a tired head nod as he stepped back. Marta set her staff to the side to grip the poker. Slamming it down firmly with a shout that cracked the safe door free. Thrown back to slam into the floor behind it. The poker itself stuck dented in a curve tossed aside by her. Both peered down into the large hidden safe.

“Guess this solves one problem.” Pulling out a huge brick of cash. A quick flip told him it was indeed all hundred dollar bills. Laying down on the floor he dipped his head into the dark space. Surprised there was a ladder below buried in the pile. Counting the stacks sitting on stacks of hundreds then sitting back up to stand. “Without messing up the stacks I'm guessing there's at least 9 million on the surface alone. If this thing is six feet deep it might be closer to 27 million. When we find Jacob we'll take some of this and buy everything we can to get things running again.”

“Like what?”

“A shit ton of seeds for one. Fuel to keep the generator running.” Grabbing a nearby empty prescription bottle off a window sill. “And pills, a lot of them.”

“You planning to help the scalled?”

“What kind of angel would I be if I didn't?” Setting the bottle back. “I don't think there's anything else here. Meet me at the hall tomorrow. Bring Jacob if you find him.”

[hannahsmusings]

Jackson

*Jackson’s entire heart felt like it could explode when you mentioned that you’d make him all the pastries he wanted, never having anyone cook specifically for him, even Bonnie was working on a routine and a schedule, occasionally she would make him certain things if he was sick but the fact that you wanted to provide him with something he lacked in his childhood made his entire body feel hot with affection and adoration and fucking desire for you, wanting you to be his in every single way, never experiencing this sort of need to claim someone before* *it felt like the world had stopped spinning as ou looked up at him, watching as your eyes fluttered closed from the way he said your name, his body pressing just a bit closer to yours, not wanting to trap you and wanting you to feel safe to move away but god damn did he need to be closer, he needed to be so close until he didn’t know where he ended and where you started, wanting to be one with you in so many ways* *he was a total fucking goner as you whispered Jax, never hearing that before, no one ever calling him by a nickname and he felt crazy with how much he liked it, it was simple and it was personal and intimate and just for you and he knew he had to kiss you right now, he knew he’d go fucking insane with the what if’s and this raging desire if he didn’t, he needed you so damn bad* *he was about to seal the deal, his head starting to incline downwards, ready to face all the consequences of his actions if it meant just being able to kiss you one single time, but as if in slow motion, suddenly you were moving away from him, your warmth and scent ripped from his senses and suddenly the world was spinning again and reality was hitting him but it was all too fast, he felt off kilter as he stood in the same spot, one hand on the knife, it all happening so fat that he thought maybe it was a dream, maybe he imagined it in his drunkenness* *he was slow to shake it off, too terrified to look at you,  just hoping that you didn’t notice what he was about to do, his stomach twisting with nerves now, hoping that he didn’t royally fuck this up* I-I’m gonna grab the wine. Quite useless in here. *he mutters quietly before turning and stalking back to the parlor to grab the wine, wanting to give you space and needing a quick reprieve himself, putting his head in his hands as he tries to breathe through his panic, not sure what the hell just came over him but he had to make sure it never happened again, you were his employee who had a boyfriend and even worse, he had a fucking fiance, he was set to be married, he had no right falling for his staff* 

_____________________________________

*my hands were trembling as I pulled away and went over to the fridge, breath shallow and feeling hot and shaky all over, so completely overwhelmed with the rush of adrenaline and want I had for you, trying to get your eyes and the way you were looking at me out of my head, totally reeling from that interaction and worried I’d been unprofessional* *puts the ingredients in the fridge after a moment, turning as you speak and your voice seemed stilted and strained, heart aching and hoping I hadn’t acted too inappropriately as I look up to watch you leave, letting out a shuddering breath and heart aching, feeling all overwhelmed and unsettled now that we weren’t close* Okay..*murmurs softly, going back over to the island and taking a deep breath before I resume cutting the cheese, spreading the bread, meat, cheese, tomatoes, olives and other spreads from the fridge on the board before bringing it in to the parlour, feeling a little shy as my cheeks flush when I enter the parlour again, smiling* Dinner is served. *brings the board down to in front of the fire, looking at you and my heart rate picking up just at our eye contact*

[lizamango]

You Have to Leave (Billy Russo x Reader)

A/N:  I wanted to write an angsty fic and who better than with Billy Russo?

Summary: Billy escapes from the hospital and finds himself in your home, his ex.

Warnings: angst, unrequited love ig, minor reader x frank castle

Wordcount: 1268

masterlist

add yourself to my taglist!

Your walk home from the precinct was uneventful as the Detective’s questions run through your head.

Do you know where Mr Russo would go?

Do you have any ideas of potential targets?

Does he have anyone to go to?

Who would take him in?

Would you let us know if he came to you?

The last one stayed with you because you didn’t know. Of course you lied, and said that you would but the detective probably saw right through that. Billy escaped from the hospital and harmed the police on guard just about ten hours ago. You saw Agent Madani leaving as you entered but you didn’t say a word to each other since you both agreed to stay out of the other’s lives after Billy’s apprehension and Frank’s departure.

You didn’t visit Billy while he was recovering. Not once. As much as you wanted to you didn’t know how you would react after everything he had done to you. To Frank. To Maria, to Lisa, to Frank Jr…

You enter your brownstone and put your keys down as the door automatically locks behind you and sigh, tired. You take off your shoes and notice muddy tracks on the stairs. You frown and take the knife you keep in the drawer of the credenza. You approach the living room slowly, following the tracks. You turn the light on as the curtains had been drawn but not by you. 

You gasp as the lights reveal a figure in your leather armchair. You know who it is despite the hood pulled low.

“Billy-“

“I-I’m sorry,” he interrupts with a soft, insecure voice you’re not used to. “I didn’t know where else t-to go.”

You nod, understandingly and put the knife on the table. “It’s okay.”

“I don’t know home,” he whispers.

“Billy,” you sigh, walking towards him. You kneel in front of him and put your hands on his. They feel sticky and as you look at them you see semi-dried blood. You inhale slowly. “Why don’t we get you cleaned up, baby?” You suggest looking up at him. His face is scarred, his hair is shaved to a buzz cut but his eyes… the difference in his eyes are what stands out the most. He doesn’t look calculating and sure anymore. They’re wild and confused, a way you’ve never seen Billy before.

“Cleaned up?” he repeats.

You nod, reassuringly. “Yeah, I still have some of your clothes here.” You stand up and gently pull him up and he lets you. You guide him up the stairs where you notice a breeze and realise that’s how he must have gotten in. You lead him to the bathroom and run a hot shower for him, just as he likes it.

“I’ll get you something to eat while you get washed up, okay?”

“Okay,” he nods, his eyes looking distant. You leave him to it and go back downstairs to your phone which was still in your bag by the door. You pick it up and walk to the kitchen. Your heart beats so loud it’s like the whole room is shaking in sync. You look at the keypad on the phone as it waits for you to make a decision. This shouldn’t be as hard as it is. This should be easy. This should be an instinct. But you just can’t move.

You grunt in frustration and throw your phone away from you. You breath heavily, thinking.

What do I do… what do I do… what do I do?

You pull out a loaf of bread and cut four slices. You take the bacon from the fridge, some avocado, tomato and lettuce and start chopping and slicing. You cook the bacon until it’s as crispy as you and Billy both like and toast the bread. You assemble the sandwiches just in time and cut them diagonally as he walks in with a fresh white shirt and black jeans and socks. For as tall as he is he seems so small now.

You notice that his eyes flicker to your phone on the floor with a cracked screen.

“Your favourite,” you smile, offering up the sandwich, placing it on the island.

“Thank you,” he says.

“You want some juice?”

“Just water.”

You nod and fill up a glass for him and yourself. You sit next to him and start eating. He scoffs the sandwich down like it’s nothing and you offer up one of your halves which he gratefully accepts.

“Why didn’t you call the cops?”

“I just couldn’t.” You sit in silence for a second until you have to ask. “Whose blood was that, Bill?”

“Your address was crystal clear to me. Everything else is foggy. Broken. But you’re not. You’re whole. Complete. After I killed him you were all I could see. It’s like… it all cleared up and revealed you. No fractures… no cracks, no breaks. I had to find you.”

“Billy…” you wait until he looks at you with his pitch black eyes. “Who did you kill, baby?” You put your hand on his again and he turns to you.

“Arthur Walsh. I-I had to, you don’t get it. I had to. Please-“

“It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.” He leans his forehead onto yours and you let him.

“We’re not together,” he whispers.

“No, we’re not.”

“I don’t remember why.”

“It’s not important right now.”

“It’s not?” his voice is almost childlike in disbelief.

“No, it’s not.”

“I’m sorry for what I did.” He couldn’t place what it was that made him lose you but he wanted to apologise anyway. “I love you, Y/N.” He hugs you, his face on your neck.

“I loved you too,” you whisper. “I wish it could have been different.”

“I’m sorry I screwed up.” You put your hands up on his head, stroking it, missing how your fingers used to slide through his hair. How you felt at peace when you were with him. But now you’d never know that feeling again. Because you couldn’t forgive him even though you loved him.

“You can’t stay here, Bill,” you whisper.

“I know,” he mumbles into the crook of your neck.

“You have to leave,” your eyes sting with oncoming tears. “I have to call the police.”

“I know.”

You both stay in the embrace for a moment longer, savouring it. He pulls away and presses a soft, chaste kiss on your lips. “”I’ll always love you,” Billy says. 

You only nod in response as you watch him get up from the stool.

“But you love Frank,” he says with finality.

He walks to your front door as you hear it close, you let out a pained breath and the tears fall.

You walk to your phone, picking it up and dialling the number.

“Yeah?”

“Billy’s out.”

“Y/N?” Frank frowns in confusion.

“I’m sure Madani told you about that but… he came to my house, Frank. I just thought you’d want to know.

“I can’t have you involved-“

“I know. He just had a change of clothes and he left.” You walk to the living room as you talk, unable to keep still.

“You could have kept him there. Killed him,” behind that statement, you know he’s asking why you didn’t.

“I couldn’t take that away from you.” You look down at the table where you left your knife. It’s gone. “Oh and, he’s armed.”

“Just adds to the fun.” He hangs up and you put the phone down, sinking into the couch and wiping the tears from your eyes. How did it get to this?

💖

Sooooo hope you liked that! I was imagining it while I watched the episode of billy escaping the hospital 🧍🏻‍♀️

thank you for reading! Please interact it’s super encouraging!

Part 2!

[shiftylookingcrow]

A (not comprehensive) List of Little Self Care Things I Do When Everything Feels Like Too Much:

Bathing

Wash just your body, or just your hair. You may not be completely clean, but you ARE cleaner

Still feels like too much? No problem!

Take off any jewelry from your hands/wrists and wash your hands up to your elbows, just taking your time

Then wash your arm pits and groin, those are the stinkiest parts of the body

If you're feeling up to it, wash your face too

Once you're done washing, take your favorite body lotion and massage it in anywhere you washed

Shaving

Shaving takes time and patience (especially if you prefer to be mostly hairless), but you don't have to go through the whole process every time

Wanna wear that cute tank top/crop top but don't feel comfortable with how hairy your pits are today?

JUST shave your arm pits then

Wanna wear shorts/capries/a skirt, but feel your legs are too fuzzy?

Where on your legs do the cuffs/hem sit? JUST shave from there down

Facial hair looking kinda scruffy? Got an electric shaver? It won't give you as close a shave as a razor, but it'll help neaten you up a bit

After any shaving, get back in there with your lotion and work it in well

Laundry

Don't have the energy to drag that big basket you've been avoiding down to the washing machine? Out of clothes but need something to wear tomorrow?

Wash ONLY what you'll need for the next 1 or 2 days. A smaller load means less to put away after

Need a bra/binder/mask/etc for tomorrow? Wash ONE, then hang it to dry with a fan blowing on it.

The air movement will help it dry faster, and while it may not be 100% dry by morning, it should be dry enough to wear comfortably

This can be done for underwear and socks as well

Dental

Mouth feeling like sandpaper, but you still can't find it in you to go through the whole tooth care routine?

JUST brush your teeth before bed. You can floss in the morning

No energy to get in there and really scrub like your dentist told you to? Even just a quick scrub is better than nothing

You know those little Gum brand toothpick things? With runber bristles on them? They can't replace proper flossing, but the CAN at least get the worst of the gunk from between your teeth

Food

Hungry but can't bring yourself to put together a whole meal? That's okay!

Get all the fixings for a sandwich (bread, spreads, cheese, meat, etc), put them on a plate and eat that. You're still eating a sandwich, it's just not an assembled sandwich

Want a smoothy, but don't want to fuss with the blender? Put it all together as a yogurt bowl instead

Want a salad? Grab a couple lettuce leaves, a stick of celery, half a tomato, or whatever else you'd have in there, and toss it on a plate. Grab some dressing (or not) and you've got a personal size veggie platter

Cut an orange in half and eat the pulp out with a spoon

Cut an apple in half, and eat JUST one half. You can save the other half for later, or eat it right after the first if you feel up to it

Cutting a banana in half and squeezing out the fruit means you don't have to worry about those gross stringy bits

Simple Smoothie Recipe:

1 banana

1 egg

1 tsp vanilla extract

1 tsp honey/sugar

Milk (dairy, soy, almond, whichever)

Berries, yogurt, chocolate chips, jam (optional)

Directions

Put all ingredients except milk in a blender (or 4 cup measure if using a hand mixer)

Pour in milk until ingredients are ALMOST covered. There should be about 1 inch/2.5 cm of solid ingredients visible

Blender/mix for 30-60 seconds, or until desired consistency. Pour into your favorite glass, or drink straight from the container

Simple baked potato:

Clean a medium to large potato and use a fork to stab holes down the sides and at each end. Depending on the size, you should have stab your potato somewhere around 9-12 times.

Place the potato in the microwave just off of center, one end facing the center of the spinning plate

Microwave for 15 minutes, flipping the potato end for end after every 5 minutes

Put the potato on a plate with some sour cream or ranch dressing, and dip it like a big ol' french fry

House Cleaning

Feel like there's too many dishes? Pick ONE place setting (bowl, plate, knife, fork, spoon, cup), and ONE pot/pan, and clean those. Do the same at the end of each meal, and while it might take a while, you'll eventually get things down to a manageable level

Dust bunnies breeding in the corners? Pick ONE room or hallway every couple days and just clean there. ONE clean room is better than NO clean rooms

Your room is so messy you don't know where to start? Every time you enter your room, put ONE thing back where it belongs. Every time you leave your room, take one thing that doesn't belong out with you and put it where it belongs.

Sink looking kind of gross? Give it a quick wipe down the next time you wash your hands

Toilet needs a clean? Pick a part (lid, seat, back or bowl) and just clean that bit. Even if you're just wiping some of the dust off the back.

Scum ring building up in the shower/bathtub? Give it a quick scrub next time you bathe. Maybe you don't get the whole thing, but you DID make a start.

Fitness

No energy for a full walk? If you can, walk around your house/apartment building. You might not have gone far, but you were UP and you were OUTSIDE.

Can't get out for whatever reason? Are there stairs in your house? In your apartment building? If you can, walk up and down those a few times.

Not really able to do stairs? Do some simple stretches instead.

Reach down and try to touch your toes, holding for 20 seconds. Reach up over your head as high as you can, holding for 20 seconds. Repeat 5 times

Sitting in a chair, reach your right hand across your body and over your left shoulder and try to grab the back of the chair without lifting your butt. Hold for 20 seconds. Do the same with your left arm, holding for 20 seconds. Repeat 5 times

Standing, or sitting on a chair, gently pull your head towards your shoulder (right hand, right shoulder; left hand, left shoulder), reaching the other hand down towards the ground. Hold for 20 seconds, then gently push your head upright again (lifting your head with just your neck muscles can cause them to seize after a stretch). Repeat 5 times

Miscellaneous

Need to trim your nails, but don't feel like sitting through both hands? Pick one finger on each hand, and just trim that nail. Do another nail on each hand tomorrow, and another the day after that. You don't have to do them all at once

Having trouble remembering to drink enough water? Find a water bottle/mug/glass that you like and try to keep it near you as much as possible. I find actually having a bottle with me helps me remember to keep sipping.

Still having trouble with your water intake? Fruit and veggies (specifically like apples, oranges, tomatoes, bell peppers and avocados to name a few) have high water content and can help keep you hydrated

Even if you can't get to sleep, lieing in bed with your eyes closed is more restful than trying to wear yourself out by reading or something

Alternatively, doing some mild stretches, or a few sit ups/push ups/jumping jacks can help wear you out without engaging your brain too much

You are aloud to say "no". You don't even need to give a reason. If everything feels like too much, taking on more responsibility will only make it worse, which will only make your output poorer as a result.

A reminder that this is by no means a complete list, just some things I've found helpful in my journey through adhd, depression, and anxiety. Not all tasks need to be done all at once. Maybe you can't do much, but that doesn't invalidate the some you did. Just because you take longer to do a task doesn't mean your bad at it, or that it isn't worth doing. You'll get there when you get there.

Please feel free to add to this post, I'd love to see what self care tricks other people are using!

[tryingmybestpls]

Golden

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: The Reader and Bucky go through different stages of the Reader’s pregnancy.

Rating: T

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy, giving birth

Two Months

Y/N had been mulling over how she was going to tell him since she found out a week ago. She had thought her anxiousness and worries would have faded away after she saw those two little lines on the test. No, they had only increased ten-fold, only worsening when she went to her doctor and got an official test. Her stomach tossing and turning when the doctor told her that she's been pregnant for eight weeks. Y/N was now stuck with the most important and difficult part of this whole thing-telling Bucky Barnes that she was pregnant with his baby.

How does one tell an over one hundred year old super soldier that they're going to be a father?  Getting a tiny Brooklyn Dodgers onesie made? Too cliché. Make some awful pun themed dinner that might include "buns in the oven"? Might go over his head. Hand him the sonogram that she had gotten after the pregnancy test just to be sure? He's from the forties, what the fuck is he going to know about a sonogram?

Y/N was terrified over he was going to react. Bucky was barely getting used to the world, barely getting used to having control of his own mind. And while he had been doing a lot better and he makes sure to take care of himself, Y/N didn't know how he would handle the stress of a baby. Did he even want to be a dad? Y/N didn't even know if she wanted to be a mom, but she know that somehow it felt right. They've never even talked about having children and now-well they were sort of past the point of thinking about having kids.

The whole situation made her want to vomit, and she was pretty sure it wasn't just from the morning sickness.

Y/N eventually landed on telling him over dinner. Nothing too fancy, just the usual place they always go to so that Bucky wouldn't think anything was up. All day long as she sat through meeting after meeting, her date got closer and closer, and that dread that had settled in the pit of her stomach grew with every second. Y/N felt like she was going to vomit by the time she met up with her boyfriend back at their apartment. Luckily, Bucky talks the entire car ride to the restaurant, complaining about something Sam did that day. She uses her training for good, covering up her nervousness with a neutral face.

They made their regular small talk as they sit in the back of the restaurant at their usual table. Y/N orders her usual lemonade while Bucky orders a Coke. They share a basket of bread and Y/N hopes that the carbs soak up the acid that keeps threatening to rise up her throat. Each time she wants to bring up her news, their waitress would come up with refills, an E.T.A on their food, or just to ask how they were doing. And each time, Y/N would glare daggers at her back once she was turned around to walk away.

Then their respective plates of pasta were placed in front of them. Bolognese for Bucky, arrabbiata for Y/N. While usually she immediately dives into her plate, the way her stomach is twisting and turning, she's unable to eat. Y/N pushes her pasta around with her fork as she works up the courage to talk to him. She just didn't know how to say it. All she knew is that she had to say it. Y/N puts down her fork, moving to wipe her now sweaty hands on the cloth napkin on her lap as she looks up at him. Bucky was raising a pasta laden fork up to his mouth as she opened hers.

"I'm pregnant." She finally blurts out. Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, barely audible over the noise of the other guests at the restaurant. She was afraid that he couldn't hear her, afraid that she was going to have to say it again. But by the way Bucky's eyes widen, she knew that he had heard her loud and clear. He lowers his fork, mouth opening and shutting.

"I-What? You're-What?" The super soldier asks, looking from her face to her stomach and back to her face. Y/N felt like she was going to be sick to her stomach, the blood draining from her face.

"I-I'm pregnant. I found out last week." Y/N manages to get out, still looking down at her plate. Her eyes started to sting and she tried to blink her eyes rapidly in order to keep her tears at bay. Bucky's silence is deafening and Y/N wishes she could run out of the restaurant, but it's like she's glued to the chair. She wants him to say something-anything, but he is silent. Y/N is about to say something when he holds his hands up, almost in defense.

"Wait. I-I don't want you to be upset. I'm not mad-I just don't know how to put my feelings into words. I'm happy. I'm really happy. I just-You know I'm not good with words." Bucky finally speaks, stumbling over his words. Her eyes widen and she quickly looks up at him.

"I-Really?" Y/N asks, the knot her stomach slowly unraveling. Bucky nods, a small smile appearing on his face. This time the tears that are filling her eyes from happiness.

"I'm not going to pretend that I know anything about babies or raising a child, but I'm sure I can figure it out." Bucky jokes, his metal hand fiddling with his utensils on the table. Y/N feels a million times better, a huge weight being lifted off of her shoulders. He looks up at her again, "I'm happy, Y/N. I am."

"Me too. Me too."

-

Four Months

As Y/N walked into her apartment, the only thing on her mind was kicking her shoes off, taking off her bra that was digging into her sides, and taking a much deserved nap. Her meeting had ended early and with Rhodey not needing help with anything, she had decided to return to her apartment. Yet, with not even a foot inside of the apartment, she was immediately greeted with an argument.

"No, what I am saying is you're painting wrong." Bucky snaps, which makes Y/N's eyebrow raise. Her boyfriend wasn't in sight, but he certainly was in the apartment somewhere. She sets her things down, walking over to where the arguing is coming from.

"How the hell can I be painting wrong? I'm putting paint on the wall. The wall is getting painted." Sam fires back and Y/N has to force herself to not laugh, covering her mouth. She stands in the doorway of the guest room, taking in the sight in front of her. The floor and furniture was covered in plastic tarp, blue painting tape lining the white molding and outlets. Painting supplies littered the room and standing in the middle of all of it were two idiots, both of them holding paint rollers covered in a light sage green paint.

"I'm sorry-what's going on here?" Y/N questions, motioning to the two of them and the mess in the room. Their heads snapped towards her, nervous smiles spreading across their faces. They looked like two kids that have been caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

"Hey doll-uh fuck-surprise." Bucky announces a little defeatedly while Sam gives a one handed jazz hand. Y/N laughs, carefully stepping into the room as the 106 year old man tries to explain, "I-We were going to surprise you by painting the room. Why are you home so early?"

"My meetings ended early and I am extremely surprised. Thank you and thank you too, Sammy." Y/N says sweetly, smiling at the two of them. Bucky lets out a sigh of relief and Sam chuckles. While the men may not see eye to eye all of the time, Sam has been a great help to both of them. The man had some knowledge about babies and children, being the proud uncle to two little boys, and he had been trying his best to put some of Bucky's worries at ease.

"I'm just trying to be a really great uncle." Sam teases, which makes the super soldier roll his eyes.  Bucky didn't have any living siblings and Y/N's teammates were the closest thing she had to family so it was going to be Uncle Sam, Uncle Rhodey, Auntie Pepper, Auntie Wanda, and so on and so forth. Their little patchwork support system that they were incredibly grateful for.

"Do you two need any help? I can't because I am pretty sure I'm not supposed to be inhaling paint fumes. But I can give Peter a call, I'm sure he wouldn't mind." Y/N offers, grinning from ear to ear. She knows that both men weren't exactly best friends with Peter Parker, both of them having gotten their asses handed to them by a teenager. Y/N didn't have any issues with the kid, hell she talked to him on a weekly basis. He reported to her every Friday, filling Y/N on his week. While it had first started as him telling her what Spider-Man did, it soon turned into a three hour long meeting that included take out while he filled her in the weekly drama and tales of him and his two friends. And every Friday when she would return to the apartment, Sam and Bucky would greet her by calling her traitor.

"Jesus-No, we are okay doll. I think we can manage, right Sam?" Bucky asks, looking at the other man. Sam just nods, holding his paint covered roller a little higher.

"Yeah yeah I think we will be okay. This room will be done in no time."

-

Seven Months

Y/N watched from her seat at the kitchen island as Bucky moved around the kitchen, attempting to make dinner.

Y/N had been put on bed rest due to the fact that the Super Serum that had affected Bucky's DNA was causing the baby to grow at an accelerated rate. Seeing that this is going to be the first baby born with the serum (that they know of), the doctor wanted Y/N to be cautious.

Bucky, had taken the doctor's words incredibly seriously, going so far as to not even let make any food, like he is doing now.

"Bucky, baby, I can help you, y'know." Y/N tells him as Bucky attempted to follow a fairly simple recipe for marinara sauce. It was already going south pretty fast. He hadn't bought the right type of tomatoes and hadn't chopped nearly enough garlic. She kept herself from micromanaging the whole thing, but it was getting harder and harder to do so.

"Doll, I used to make dinner for me and my sister. I think I can handle this." He replies, setting the knife he was using to chop up the yellow onion aside. He scoops up the onion in his hands, moving to toss it into the big pan on the stove. The onions sizzle as soon as it hits the olive oil covered surface of the pan.

When Y/N had told Bucky she was craving pasta, she had kind of meant that they would just pick something up. Bucky had decided that he would make the meal himself and Y/N, once she saw how excited he was, didn't have the heart to tell him that she had wanted take-out.

It was actually sort of sweet, seeing him trying to hard to make this meal for her. All he wanted to do is take care of her, take care of their baby. She loved cooking for him for the same reason. It was a way to show her love, to show how much she cared about him and he just wanted to do the same.

"Alright, Barnes. I believe in you." Y/N responds, smiling at him. She just watched as he cooked (and occasionally danced to the jazz music that was playing on the record player). It didn't matter if the meal sucked, Bucky was just trying his best to take care of his girlfriend and their child.

But for the record, the meal did suck.

-

Eight Months

It was a sight, seeing them together.

Bucky held their daughter close to his chest, bouncing her carefully as the light started to filter through the blinds of her hospital room. A smile was stretched across his tired face as he moved from side to side, cooing to her softly. His hair was a mess, his clothes incredibly wrinkled. The morning light surrounded the two like a halo and if Y/N could, she'd take a picture of them. A picture of her family.

Their daughter had been born a month early, which wasn't too surprising considering with how fast she had been growing. Although it was a shock when Y/N's water broke the night before while they were sleeping. Then Y/N had spent most of yesterday in labor, finally giving birth to their sweet baby girl-Rebecca Natalia Barnes, named after Bucky's little sister and Y/N's best friend-in the evening. Bucky had started crying when Y/N had told him that she had wanted to name their daughter after his sister, not thinking that Y/N would have wanted to pay tribute to his long dead sister.

"Look Rebecca, mommy's awake." Bucky says softly, looking over to where Y/N was laying in her bed. The Super Soldier grinned at her, still rocking their child. Y/N smiled at the two of them, shifting on the bed so she can sit up a bit more as her boyfriend walked over. She looks up at the two, her heart swelling with the way Bucky looks holding their daughter.

"Hi baby." Y/N says hoarsely, the bundle of pink shifting and squirming in Bucky's arms. She holds her arms out, silently asking if she can hold Rebecca. Bucky carefully places the newborn into her arms before he pulls the plastic chair closer to the bed, not wanting to be too far from either of them.

"I can't believe she's actually here." Y/N announces softly, taking in every detail of her daughter's face in the early morning light. She had Bucky's blue-gray eyes and his nose, but her hair. It felt weird to see her, felt weird to be holding her. Y/N felt like she was dreaming, but the pain she had gone through the night before-the pain she was still feeling now-had made it real.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Bucky asks, looking at mother and child interacting. Y/N nods, tears filling her eyes as she looks down at her daughter. She presses her lips against Rebecca's forehead, taking in that baby smell that every parenting book seemed to mention. Bucky is still smiling, looking at the two, "My two beautiful girls."

Hours from now, the hospital room would be filled with friends what were more likely family, wanting to share this incredibly special moment with the Y/L/N-Barnes family. Rebecca would be introduced with her aunts and uncles, each one of them getting a chance to hold and introduce themselves to the newborn.

But for now, for now, the three of them were alone. The three of them sat together in this room, all getting used to each other. Nothing else existed outside of this room, nothing else mattered outside of this room. All that mattered was that they were together.

[tvseries-writings]

Soulmates VI

TW: eating disorder

Natasha enters the tower about an hour and a half later and finds you and Wanda at the stove and Pietro on the counter making a sandwich.

You are denied with the kitchen but you would like to do it without letting your soulmates discover it, you must at least try not to let them discover it during the first week so you just cut the bread.

It’s not a complicated thing and yet you almost cut off your hand with that knife, luckily nobody noticed.

Neither you nor Wanda notice Natasha until the Russian spy speaks.

"Lyubit (loves), I'm back"

Wanda lets the ladle drop into the saucepan filled with gravy before turning and dashing into Nat's arms. Instead, you leave the knife on the counter and slowly turn around to watch that show.

Your soulmates are kissing and you understand that you could never ever look at something more beautiful than what you are seeing right now.

When the kiss is over, you join the two girls - who thankfully don't mind the fact that you didn't take the crutches - and you give a “welcome back” to Natasha too; you didn't realize how much you missed the blonde and your looks are so sweet and in love that Pietro feels compelled to clear his throat to get you back down to earth.

«Sestra, please take a room» Pietro snorts and you giggle as you see him come out of the kitchen after biting into the sandwich he was preparing.

You and Nat sit on the stools near the counter as Wanda sets three plates full of tomato pasta in front of you.

Natasha and Wanda start eating, they run out of pasta in minutes while you only ate a forkful.

"It is strange that the information was false, it was good that you did not run into any traps." Wanda expresses her concerns and strokes Nat's hand on the table.

"Ugh .. forget it, if I could I would have killed Steve, I know it's not his fault but I lost the session with you because of a stupid mistake of an organization that should work perfectly" Natasha sighs before pausing and turning towards you smiling: "Anyway, how did the session go?"

You leave the fork on the plate, you have eaten almost nothing and the eyes of both of them rest for a few seconds on your almost intact spaghetti.

Panic assaults you for a few seconds and you hurry to try to move their attention from what you eat to the answer you still have to give to Nat.

“It went well and Diane can't wait to meet you, I have another session in two days so you can come if you want.” You shrug her shoulders and give her a smile.

Both of their eyes focus on you again and internally you breathe a sigh of relief; you don't think it's a problem, yours is just a small problem with food but maybe it's better if your soulmates don't know. Not yet at least. It doesn't matter what Diane believes.

"I'll be there." Natasha gives you a smile and you smile back.

Their gaze falls back to your almost intact plate and you rush to take another bite, chew it slowly before taking another and then another.

The plate is half empty, or full depending on the perspective. You put down your fork and wipe the sides of your mouth with the napkin.

You feel the gaze of your soul mates burn on your skin but you ignore it while you take the dishes to clear away.

"So ... do you have any plans for today?" you say as you throw your pasta in the bin before washing the dishes and putting them in the dishwasher.

"We actually wanted to talk to you about-"

Wanda is interrupted by your phone's ringer, suddenly Human by RagnBone Man is the only sound in the room.

You go to the counter and grab the phone.

The name "Daisy 🖤" appears on the screen and you press the green button.

"Hey Dee"

“Hey y / n, see you in ten minutes in front of Starbucks. Bring them both. I don't want to hear excuses-ah! Jem is there too "

Before you can even say a word Daisy ends the call and you gasp with the phone in your hand. You let out a groan of frustration by placing the phone on the counter. You turn to the two Avengers. You run a hand over your face before you start talking. You want to strangle Daisy right now but you force yourself to take a deep breath and smile.

"Would you like to go to Starbucks? Daisy, my best friend, wants to meet you -there is also her girlfriend, a great friend for me - and if I don't take you there within 10 minutes she will persecute me so ... please "

Wanda smiles in amusement as Natasha stands up and leaves you a kiss on her cheek, nodding.

«Sure, let's go there; right Wands? "

Wanda nods and smiles at you.

"Of course, if it's important to you it's important to us too, honey."

A smile comes out spontaneously as they hold you in a hug.

When you break away you miss their bodies close to yours; it's a reflection of soulmates, you have known for many years that the bond between soulmates is strong but you didn't think it was that strong.

It is an extremely hot day, the sun is high in the sky and the three of you walk side by side as you make your way to the Starbucks where Daisy and Jemma are waiting for you.

As you walk your gaze falls on the sweatshirt you wear, it is as wide as all the sweatshirts you own. The plate of pasta you ate keeps coming back to you and nausea grips your stomach.

You are so focused on the calories you have taken during lunch that you do not notice that the crutch gets stuck in the manhole and you are about to fall but Natasha grabs you and squeezes you to her chest.

"Are you OK?"

Natasha whispers as she continues to hold you close to her as Wanda approaches and brushes your hair away from your face, reaches down and takes your face in her hands.

"Hey, are you okay?"

It takes a few seconds to record what happened and quickly push the thoughts in the back of your head.

You try to smile and nod.

"I'm fine, I'm just a little clumsy" you detach yourself from Nat's embrace and pick up your crutches and start walking again.

You do not make sure that your soulmates are following you, you know they are following you and you do not know how long you will be able to keep your thoughts away from the Sokovian's powers. You are sure that even in this moment he is trying to read your mind, from their earlier looks it was easy to guess that they were not satisfied with the stupid excuse you came up with.

As soon as you see the sign of the bar you rush inside and immediately notice your best friend at the table right near the entrance and to her right is Jemma. You Give to the biochemists a smile before punching your best friend on the shoulder who is currently having her back to you.

Wanda and Natasha join you and sit down.

You greet Jemma with a hug and roll your eyes when Daisy pouts because you didn't give her one too.

Jemma is scrutinizing you carefully and under your gaze you feel guilty for some reason. With Jemma you always talk about everything, sometimes you say more to her than to Daisy, she is still your best friend of course but she already has her problems and with the new powers and the mess with her parents you want to do everything but talk about it. So you manage to escape Daisy but Dr. Simmons is sadly not that easy to ignore.

You clear your throat before introducing your soulmates to those you have considered and still consider a family.

"Dee, Jem ... these are Wanda and Natasha, not that they need any introduction" a collective laugh fills the unusually empty bar for that hour.

"We can say that our fame precedes us." Nat speaks first and rises slightly from her seat to shake hands with both of them with a smile.

"The famous Quake and the best of the Academy, it's a pleasure to meet you" Wanda does the same and gives both of them a warm smile.

"Y / n she told us about you and her family is our family now" Natasha looks at them and smiles.

The four girls start talking to each other and you couldn't be happier but that pasta dish you ate before keeps coming back to the center of your thoughts. You know it's getting worse again, you know it from Diane's look every time she sees you but most of all you understand it from the happiness and satisfaction you feel every time you miss a meal.

You don't want to go back to one of those centers, they would force you to eat and you feel good that way; maybe Diane doesn't agree but a little diet won't hurt you, it's not like last time. You're okay now, you're sure.

“Excuse me for a few minutes, I really have to use the toilet. Y / n are you coming with me? " the Englishwoman's gaze suggests that you can't refuse and you hurry to nod and grab the crutches before following her to the bathroom.

As soon as you open the door, Jemma closes it behind her and turns towards you. Her gaze is scrutinizing and even sad in reality. She gives you a small smile and reaches out to take your hand.

"How bad is it this time?"

You really believe your heart has stopped, at least for a few seconds. You have to get yourself out of this situation and you have to do it quickly.

You smile, as sincere as possible, and look into her eyes.

"Jem, I ate for lunch"

"What did you eat?"

"Pasta with tomato sauce"

Jemma doesn't look away and keeps looking you straight in your eyes.

"Amount?"

"Too much"

The word gets out of your lips before you can even think about what you are actually saying. You regret it immediately when you see Jemma's gaze. Sadness and a hint of awareness can be read very clearly on her face.

She hugs you and the crutches fall to the ground with a thud. You caress her back as she holds you tight.

"Does Dee know it’s back?" She asks you as soon as you break away.

You shake your head and she sighs.

"She would help you tell her y / n, also to Wanda and Natasha"

"I don't want to load them with my shit before it's the moment," you shrug at her and she gives you a warning look.

"I'm afraid when that moment will come, it might be too late and if you continue like this, it will be"

You would like to talk, you would like to tell her that you are fine and that you will start eating again but Jemma is not stupid and she knows that alone, without the right "incentive", you will do absolutely nothing to improve your situation but on the contrary you will make it worse.

"Tonight I will call Diane, you will follow a food plan that you will have to follow and that your soulmates and Daisy will also know, she is fighting her demons but she needs to know that you are safe sweety" the look on the face of the Englishman does not make you reply: «if you don't follow him, what both Diane and I will check, you will go to a recovery center y / n. You know I love you, you are like a sister to me and I can't make you hurt without doing anything "

She hugs you again and you reciprocate, her arms seem even more comforting now but not like those of your soulmates. When you break away (again) you can't help but think about your soulmates, their smiles, the sounds of their laughs and all your problems seem to vanish. But you know they are still there , ready to beat you down at the first sign of failure.

You swallow the lump in your throat - those are thoughts for other moments - and after Jemma leaves the bathroom you follow her, a waiter is taking your orders at your table and while Diasy beckons you to hurry up, in the usual funny ways that characterize yours fantastic best friend, Wanda and Natasha smile at you as soon as they see you.

One of these days you'll die for those smiles.

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Thank you for reading, I accept requests (click here to find out more) and I apologize for the delay. What do you think? If you like, comment because I'm happy when I read comments <3

Marvel Masterlist

“Soulmates”

Part I

Part II

Part III

Part IV

Part V

Part VII

Part VIII

Part IX

[dream-a-little-bigger-darling000]

You'll Fit So Nicely You'll Keep Me Intact

Author's Note: Hello Hello! Not my GIF, please don't think it is, but it is my fic! I asked a few days ago if I should do Bane or touch-starved Tommy, and it was pretty clear I should do my sweet summer child Tommy boy. I just really think this big tough fighter needs to take a break and be held every once in awhile. And you can't tell me this man wouldn't have the sweetest moans. Fight me on it you can't. Please Please PLEASE reblog, like, or comment on this if you liked it. I live my day to day life craving validation.

If you absolutely hated it, also let me know! I admit I'm not the best at writing, and I'm willing to learn so I can feed my Tommy Conlon addiction. Ok, that's all, be fed!

2400+ words?! C'mon, that's gotta be enough to make you proud.

The whole fiasco was genuinely an accident.

The two of you, in his small cramped apartment, helping each other make dinner, because you couldn't remember whose turn it was, walking around each other like you had been doing it for years, because you had been.

You had been by Tommy for as long as you can remember, through those years where puberty slammed in the door and decked you directly in the throat (and other places), through the time where his family had slowly fallen apart, and into the years where he had joined the US Marine Corps.

Those years had been hell. At least when he moved away you were still able to text him annoying day-to-day updates and talk in the quiet nights when no one was awake to hear you admit how much you missed each other. But when he joined the Marines, you heard even less from your Tommy, and the ache you felt for him only grew.

When he came back, he had came back for good, immediately seeking you out with the promise of your old relationship back. And things went back to normal, slotted into place perfectly.

Except the insane amount of pining that you went through every waking hour you saw his stupidly attractive face.

But you weren't going to think about that. There was spaghetti to be made.

"Those are done." Tommy nodded his head to the noodles as he made the salad. You sneered to yourself, still pissed that he got the easy part.

"No, they're not, look, that one's still hard-"

"That's what she said."

"It's still undercooked you jerk. Can you please let me cook in peace? You're over there, doing the bare minimum, you ass."

"Hey, if this isn't tossed right, the whole thing is ruined. And those noodles are definitely done. We can get them in the sauce before the garlic bread is done so it'll cool down a bit. Look." All the sudden Tommy was crowded up behind you. Your breath did something funny. Probably the steam from the boiling water. Because, you know, it's so hard to breathe around.

Tommy took the spoon you were using to stir and managed to scoop up a single noodle. He then carefully picked it up and threw it on the cabinet. It stuck, but looked like it would fall via a strong sneeze.

"See? Done." You looked behind you to stare up at the infuriating man. He smiled and tilted his head. You had the sudden urge to hit him. With your mouth. Damn it.

He turned around, not giving you a chance to argue with him. That was his first mistake. As a MMA fighter, the idiot should know never to turn your back on the enemy.

You scooped up another noodle with your spoon. You waited until he was truly busy with cutting the tomatoes up for the salad.

You aimed for his head. It wrapped around the back of his neck with a soft splat. He startled for a moment, and then set the knife down and stared forward, still not turning around to look at you.

"You know what, now it's done. Now it's stickin'." You were struggling to hold it together, desperately trying not to laugh as you turned off the stovetop and set the pan aside.

You felt strong arms envelop you from behind, and you let out a loud laugh as you felt your feet leave the floor. Tommy, spinning you around before setting you on the counter. You've really put yourself it a bad position.

Well, if you're being honest, probably the best damn position you've ever been in.

Except that the bastard started tickling you. More laughter spilled out of you, uncontrollable at this point.

"Tommy!" You were out of breath from the constant attack. What happened to never turn your back on the enemy? "Tommy, what are we in-" More laughter as his joined yours. You two were so close you could feel his shoulder dip every time he rumbled a laugh. "what are we in 6th grade now- Tommy!"

You could feel his laughter huff by your ear, and you knew you had to resort to dirty tactics. If he wanted to play by middle school standards, then you had no choice but to stoop down to his level.

Tommy was very distracted trying to murder you by laughter alone, and he looked like he was having the time of his life. He never even realized your hands were so close to his head. He was in the middle of another fit of giggles when he felt your nimble hands glide through his hair. He had half a second to understand what you were planning, and he was just about to pull away, to get as far from you as possible before-

You gave a solid pull to his hair. You felt satisfaction shoot through your body as his laugh choked off, his body going rigid underneath your fingers. His breath stuttered and his hands instantly fell from your sides to grasp the edge of the counter.

You didn't quite understand what was going on at first, the only thing on your mind being that you'd won the battle. You couldn't help the smug smile from sliding across your expression, or the snarky little giggle that bubbled it's way out.

"What's wrong, Tommy? Did someone school you at your own game, hmm? Maybe next time you'll think before you-"

"Could you please let go?" Tommy sound winded, like he'd just fought a few rounds with someone much bigger than him. It made you pause, and then frown.

Your fingers loosened from his hair, but you didn't lower your arm just yet. You couldn't fathom why Tommy was acting this way, when he instigated the rough-housing. And you knew for damn sure you hadn't hurt him. You had seen the idiot stub his toe on his coffee table before, and the only reaction out of the fighter was a pause, a look up to the ceiling, and one long, drawn out sigh.

So even though he sounded like he was trying to fight for his life, you know it absolutely wasn't because you had hurt him in anyway. Tommy could break you five times over.

You looked down at his hands. Not only was he grasping the edge of the counter top, but his knuckles were white, like he was anchoring himself. You glanced to his face. His eyes were squeezed shut, his lips pressed tightly together, and his eyebrows were furrowed in deep concentration. Was he- was that a blush? His body was still pulled tight.

Experimentally, you lightly scraped your nails along his scalp.

If Tommy were to ever hear you call the sound that came from him a whimper, he'd probably swiftly and effectively dispose of your body. But it was a fucking whimper.

His eyes snapped open wide and met yours. You saw his utter mortification. You would say you felt guilty, but having your long time crush whimper while slotted between your thighs as you sat a top a kitchen counter really did things for you.

You mentally reprimanded yourself for letting your mind fall into the gutter as your friend so obviously had a small break down.

Before you could get a word out, to try talk him down from whatever thoughts were swirling in that pretty head of his, Tommy was out of kitchen. Ah, so he's chosen drama today? Coming from a man who would rather fight his own brother than talk, you can't really find it in yourself to be surprised.

"Tom." You dropped down from the counter, heading toward the living room, which was the only way he could've gone. As you rounded the corner, you saw him pacing the length of the room, his hands interlaced behind his head, elbows out, eyes wild.

"Tommy." You smoothed out your voice, pictured yourself trying to calm down a particularly flighty horse. You know, if the horse were the love of your life and you were desperately trying to make things less weird between you two before the already delicate friendship collapsed.

At your gentle prod he stopped. He let his hands fall down to his sides. He huffed once. Crossed his arms, made a face, and then dropped them. His fists curled up into balls and he closed his eyes. He opened one and looked toward you.

"You didn't hear that."

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your own arms to your chest.

He pointed to the kitchen. "That didn't happen."

Because you love your best friend very much, you didn't roll your eyes.

"Tommy. Calm down. Take a deep breath." He did not take a deep breath. You did for him. Then another one for you. You moved toward the couch, and the way he suddenly looked like he was about to sprint out the door didn't escape you. You held your hands up placatingly. Easy, boy.

You sat down, leaving enough room for him to sit beside you. He looked at you wearily. You gave him a pointed look, one that said this is something to be discussed, and there's no way you're getting out of it, and gently patted the space for him.

He looked like he'd rather do anything else. He eventually made his way to the spot and plunked down, but as close to the arm of the couch as possible.

You gave him a sweet smile. He looked away, but not before you caught the blush. You decided to let him speak first.

It was quiet for awhile. Your thoughts went to the noodles still sitting on the counter, probably cooling in the water making a film. He cleared his throat.

"I don't. Not a ton of people touch me." He stared dutifully in front of him. You stayed silent, afraid of scaring him into silence again. He shifted uncomfortably, letting out a growl of frustration. "I mean people touch me. I just meant. It's not. It's," He looked like each word was slowly strangling him, "Never that intimate. I guess. And never anyone like you."

You're eyebrows shot up. His head jerked toward you.

"Not like that, I mean like someone so pretty." You choked a little. He visibly flinched. "Ok. I think that's enough for tonight. I think I've made plenty an ass of myself for one God forsaken night." He made to move, but your hand covered his before you really thought about it. He immediately stopped, staring at your hand on top of his.

"Tommy, it's ok." He gave you a dubious look. "No, really. Lots of people don't know how to deal with touch when it's not normal for them-"

"I'm fine, I touch people all the time, it doesn't matter it's ridiculous-"

"Tommy." He stopped. You lifted both hands to slowly cradle his face. His eyes were panicky. He looked like he was fighting every instinct inside him. "Listen to me, love." His eyes widened. "You don't have to explain anything. I need you to know it's ok to freak out a little. It's ok for this to be new." You bit your lip. "It's ok if it feels good."

A small sound came from the fighter. His eyes slipped closed. It suddenly hit you. You sucked in a sharp breath, and you started to gently stroking his face to his neck.

"Oh Tommy. You spend all that time fighting in the ring, so much time dominating. You barely let anyone touch you before you knock them away." His dad was probably never there to offer him any type of physical love, and his mom was too distanced from anyone to truly give what Tommy craved. By that time, he had pushed his brother away, and you had never really noticed him to be very active in the dating area.

You could feel his control slipping, could feel him slowly letting you hold his head up while he explored the sensation of someone just feeling him. When he spoke, his speech was slightly slurred.

"Was always jus' scared."

"I know Tommy."

"Didn' want you t' leave."

"And why would I do something stupid like that."

There was a second of silence, but Tommy was too far in to go back now.

"Cuz' I only wanted you to touch. Only ever you." Your heart stopped. His eyes slowly opened, meeting yours. His gaze snapped to your lips, back up to your eyes. All it took was for your eyes to snap to his lush mouth, and he was surging to meet you.

You felt like you were melting, melding into him. His lips were sliding against yours, his hands suddenly huge, thumbs cupping your face while his hands rested on the sides of your neck. He kissed like you see him fight. The urgency and the power and the emotion. You ached all over.

You could hardly remember your name when you finally separated, heaving lungfuls of air. Maybe all that oxygen deprivation had really done something to your brain, because you might be having a stroke. It almost smelled like something was burning. Tommy's face did something funny and he sniffed the air.

Oh. OH. The garlic bread.

Both of you made a mad dash for the kitchen, Tommy arriving first and throwing the oven door open, grabbing whatever cloth he could find to take out the charred bread as you used a dishrag to flap away any smoke that spilled out.

Once he made sure his apartment wasn't going to burn down or that the ambulance wan't going to be making a surprise visit, he slumped against the counter, breathing heavily. You put your hands on your hips.

A few second went by, both of you trying to catch your breath. Tommy looked up at you. You met his eye.

You both melted into peeling laughter, trying to stay upright. It seemed like every time you two would get your shit together, you'd fall right back into cackles.

He finally reigned in the worst of the laughter, and slowly made his way to where you were standing. Your own laughs died down.

"Are we good?" you ask him gently. He nods his head, with his sweet smile.

"We're good" he replies gently. He gets this determined look on his face, and steps real close to you. He doesn't do anything else for awhile, instead looking to you, asking with questioning eyes.

You give him an encouraging smile. He smiles right back at you, and for the second time tonight, strong arms envelop you.

[ptergwen]

heyy could you write one where the reader finds peter/tom/arvin crying, she gets worried and starts asking him but turns out he's only cooking and halfway in cutting onions and the reader's like "bruh"?

this is the most peter thing ever i think 😭

peter is an awful cook. it runs in the parker family, the occasional grilled cheese or oatmeal being a couple exceptions. he’s never done any real cooking other than that. that’s why it’s usually you who throws things together. you’ll sometimes have peter help you, which he’s always happy to do because he feels bad and wants to get better.

most times, he just keeps you company and thanks you with a million kisses all over your face while you giggle over the stove.

since you’re working late tonight, peter is making the bold decision to take care of dinner. he’s got nothing else to do for once. plus, you do it almost every night. you deserve to come home to a nice meal made by someone other than yourself.

it’s just a simple dish, pasta with some vegetables and bread on the side. it’s simple if you don’t count all the prep work peter has to do. the questions he would normally ask you go straight to his google.

“hey, siri,” peter speaks into his phone, waiting for her response as he walks across the kitchen. he starts grabbing what he needs from the fridge. “how do you dice something?”

he grabs the sharpest knife you own, remembering how you said they were the safest. that makes no sense to peter, but what does he know? first up are the tomatoes. he has to keep asking siri to reread the directions so he doesn’t mess up. he really wants to make a dinner you’ll love. nothing shows that more than perfectly cubed vegetables.

peter manages fine with the mushrooms and only chops the spinach. he’s learning pretty fast. he fills up a pot and sets the water to boil for the pasta while he moves on to dicing the onions. not knowing any better, he leans in closer to cut so he can be more precise. he doesn’t realize anything is wrong until tears are streaming down his cheeks.

he drops the knife on the cutting board with a sniffle. the fumes are getting to him. “what the hell?” peter wonders aloud, using the back of his hand to wipe his eyes. “why am i crying?” he’s heard the jokes about cutting onions, but he thought they were only jokes, myths. no one told him they could actually make you cry.

you pick this exact moment to get home, exhausted and ready to curl up in peter’s arms. he’s no where to be found, though. you put down your bag with a call of his name. “peter? are you home?” “in the kitchen!” he shouts back, voice wobbling. you’re too familiar with that voice. it’s his crying voice.

concern takes over you as you make your way into the kitchen, peter still unable to stop his crying. he’s bent over the counter and taking in shaky breaths when you walk up to him. “baby, what’s wrong? did something happen?” you ask softly, putting a comforting hand on his back. “no, no, no, i’m fine. it’s nothing,” he chokes out, this time using his arm to wipe away his tears.

“you’re crying,” you give him a gentle reminder of the state he’s in. you’ve had so many conversations where peter says he’s okay and really hasn’t been, so you’re weary. “no- i mean, yeah, but it’s not for the reason you think.” peter takes a step back and turns around to face you. he offers a shy smile before he finishes explaining.

“i’m making dinner, and it needs onions, and... they’re not working with me.” there’s a half cut onion behind him to prove his point. you let out a long breath and loop your arms around peter’s neck. you’re relieved and annoyed at the same time. “you little drama queen. making me so worried over what?” peter pouts and holds you by your hips. “hey, don’t hate the cook. hate the food.”

“it is really sweet of you to make dinner. all on your own, too. thanks, pete,” you grin and peck his lips in appreciation. he kisses your cheek with a smile of his own. “aw, you’re welcome. i’ll never do it again.”

[lal-ffxiv]

For Luka - take down, hyper beam, sky attack. Asdis - soft-boiled, substitute, pay day

take down — is your muse competitive? is this competitive nature specific to one activity (ie sports) or to everything they do?

Yes, when they are willing to compete seriously. Luka is energetic and will gladly take up any dares or challenges, but these need to be fun for them. There has to be some kind of ‘prize’ that will motivate Luke to enter a real competition that has strict rules and losers

hyper beam — does your muse have any paralyzing fears?

Luka doesn’t like the shut-in darkness or tight, closed spaces. This is why most dungeon diving tasks are daunting to Luka. Like sure they can go fight these monsters and cultists, but why do they have be underground all the time?

sky attack — is there something your muse finds attractive about themselves? does this extend to other people?

Luka doesn't put much importance on their appearance, but they do preen when they get compliments on their eyes, and then Luka takes special notice of other people’s eyes as well.

substitute — if your muse could be someone else, who would they be? Asdis would be no one else, but herself. One factor are delusions of grandeur that there isn’t anyone else that could be better than her. The other factor is vanity. Asdis has everything she could ever want, and doesn't need to be someone else to get or do what she desires.

pay day — if your muse had unlimited funds, what’s the first thing that they would buy?

Asdis is broke all the time and is in severe debt, but even unlimited funds would not be enough for her most likely as she likes to gamble. However, first things first, Asdis would purchase half of Ul’dah, and then a castle, then few libraries.

soft-boiled — does your muse have a soft spot for anything? if so, is there a reason?

Asdis in the present doesn’t seem to have a soft sport for anyone or anything. Of course there items important to her like her personal mammet and the grimoire, but these things can be called her research, not something she cares about personally. Asdis liked to believe she not attached to anything emotionally anymore, but Asdis cares so deeply, even obsessively one she does. In the past Asdis had only had a soft spot for her loved ones (her adopted parents, her fiancé, her tomato), but nowadays that is more sensitive than soft.  Asdis doesn’t allow people to get that close to her anymore, she doesn't care for it.

Bonus: 

Asdis' hands ached impossibly. Even the slightest movement was a knife cut to her nerves. She laid back and let her arms be dead weight at her sides. "AllR play recordings from 00O." The mammet hummed and the voices filled the room. Asdis closed her eyes and let her mind be eased away. The pain became an after thought and reality slipped away from her. Asdis was listening to the voice of her dead lover. His voice goes over measurements of outputs and potentials. Asdis sees him, sees them all together. Adanirus was tinkering with the inner parts of a mammet. The very beginning of AllR. Asdis could see her father too. He  was very seriously reading in his chair by the window light. “Come here, read this with me. I can’t make sense of…”. Eventually the book would be put down for supper. Suela Susuela wasn’t a cook, but she would bake for her family. Asdis could smell it now the aroma of dough baking. The bread has been in for too long. This wasn’t right. Suela Susuela wouldn't allow the charred, blacked pretzel to be served to Asdis. Everything still smelled of burning, and the books’ pages were ashes, and Adanirus was cold and pale among everything black. Achlys’s voice seeped into Asdis’s conusiounes, “eromyna tsixe ton seod siht ekil Emoh.”

Asdis returned. She opened her fist to reveal her palm pooling with blood, glass and ether from the shattered ampoule. 

[writingblock101]

Drunk (Jason Todd x Reader)

Word Count: 1,600

Tags: @idkmanicantenglish @mayahoelland2013

Request from @hurricane-anxiety:  Would you mind writing a Jason Todd x reader where jay comes home like super smashed? 👉🏻👈🏻

Based off my drunk dumbass friends.

Jason is out late, spending time with a few friends. You enjoy a quiet night in the apartment by yourself, catching up on a show that Jason hates and eating take out from your favorite restaurant. By the time midnight rolls around, there’s still no sign of Jason coming back to the apartment, so you text him good night and tell him you’ll leave the kitchen light on. He texts back a few minutes later, saying “good nigty babe i live yoi”. 

Chuckling at the gratuitous spelling errors, you plug your phone in and crawl into bed. After thirty minutes of tossing and turning in bed which includes retrieving another blanket since your cuddly space heater isn’t here, you finally fall asleep. 

The sound of the front door to your apartment closing wakes you up. Normally, Jason is silent, but you suppose it was because you were sleeping lighter than normal without him in bed. You groggily open your eyes and glance at the clock on your nightstand: 2:31 AM. Knowing Jason will come into your bedroom in a minute, you roll back over. 

As you begin to drift away again, you hear a cabinet door slam shut followed by a frantic, but whispered: “Shit!” 

Sounds like Jason let a cabinet door slip you explain to yourself, closing your eyes again. Thirty seconds later, you hear a loud bang! Followed by an even louder bang and a shouted: “Fuck!” 

Deciding to see what your usually silent boyfriend is up to, you roll out of bed, only dressed in a pair of underwear and one of his shirts. The kitchen light blinds you for a moment, forcing you to squint. Through your squinting, you find Jason tangled up in one of your bar stools and laying on the ground. 

You blink, your eyes adjusting. 

“Y/N!” Jason exclaims with an easy grin that is quickly replaced with guilt. “Wait, did I wake you up?” 

You raise your eyebrows at Jason. 

“Kinda,” You admit groggily. 

“Shit, I’m sorry, babe.” 

“You uh…” You gesture to the bar stool Jason is tangled in. “You having some problems there?” 

Jason giggles, looking a little sheepish. 

“I went to sit down but then tipped backward.” 

Your eyebrows raise even higher. Jason is almost never this giggly and he’s definitely coordinated enough to sit in the bar stools without tipping them over. A small laugh escapes as you connect the dots. 

A night out with friends. 

Poorly spelled texts. 

Very loud. 

Giggling. 

.

.

.

Jason is drunk.

Watching you laugh seems to make Jason laugh even if he doesn’t know what you’re laughing at. 

“You’re a goof,” You tell him, stepping over to help Jason upright. 

Jason grins, wraps an arm around your shoulder and kisses your head

“Yeah, but I’m your goof.” 

You smile, helping Jason into a bar stool that’s not on the ground. You run your fingers through his hair, warmth bubbling up in your chest as Jason leans against your hand happily. 

“Yeah, you are.” 

Jason’s grin widens at your words. You kiss the top of his head and walk into the kitchen to get him a glass of water. 

“Fun night?” You ask. 

Jason giggles, his face red. He slouches in the bar stool to lean heavily against the kitchen island. 

“Yeah, it was. I’ve missed Roy.” 

“I bet you have,” You slide the glass across the bar to him. 

“What’s this?” He asks, staring down into the liquid. 

“Water,” You tell him. “You need to drink it.” 

“But I don’t want to drink it.” 

“You’ll wish you drank it in the morning.” 

“But it’s not the morning yet,” Jason astutely points out. 

You glance at the clock on your oven which reads 2:43 AM. 

“Yeah, it is,” You point at the clock with a raised eyebrow. 

“That doesn’t count,” Jason waves his hand. “I haven’t slept yet, so it’s not morning.” 

You laugh, rolling your eyes at Jason’s logic. 

“I will be sure to inform the world that the morning doesn’t start until you wake up.” 

“That’s right,” Jason says proudly with a dopey grin. “See to it that the world knows.” 

“But you should still drink the water.” 

“But I don’t want to drink the water.” 

“Will you please drink the water? For me?” 

Jason looks at you suspiciously. 

“Just one glass,” You barter. 

“Just one?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“One,” You promise. “And I’ll make you a sandwich.” 

His eyes light up. 

“Oh, with tomatoes!” 

“With tomatoes,” You agree, walking over to the fridge. “And the works. But, you have to drink that glass of water first.” 

Jason pouts but takes a few big gulps of the water which satisfies you enough to pull out all the ingredients from the fridge and start making his sandwich. 

“I love you,” He says randomly. 

You look up from cutting a tomato to see Jason leaning on his arm, his eyes fond. 

“I love you too,” You tell him, leaning across the bar on your toes to kiss his nose. 

Jason grins, leaning down to get a proper, but brief kiss from you. As you spread the condiments onto the bread with a knife, Jason clambers down from his chair to round the kitchen island and hug you from behind, leaning heavily against you. He lays his chin on your shoulder, watching you make the sandwich. 

“You’re more than I deserve,” He murmurs against your head. 

You finish putting everything on the sandwich and turn in Jason’s grasp, letting him rest his forehead against yours. 

“What makes you say that?” You ask. 

“Someone who has done as much fucked up shit as I have doesn’t get to be this happy,” He tells you as he kisses you. 

You reach up and cup his face, feeling a few thin scars along his jaw. 

“I think someone who has been through as much as you have deserves to be happy.” 

He grins, kissing you again. 

“Well, you make me ridiculously happy.” 

You smile. 

“I love you,” He softly whispers to you. 

“I love you too,” You respond easily, kissing his head. “Also your sandwich is done, but you have to drink your water first.” 

Jason groans. 

“I don’t need water,” He insists as you slip out of his grip. 

“Yes, you do,” You tell him, pulling him toward the chair. 

He stumbles, walking heavily as he pushes you against the bar again, his hands sliding up your thighs. 

“This my shirt?” He asks, playing with the bottom of it.

“Maybe,” You shrug. 

Jason grins, kissing you again as his hands slide under the shirt. 

“I like it when you wear my clothes.” 

“I know,” You smirk, kissing him back. “Come on, eat your sandwich and drink your water.” 

“But I see something else I’d much rather eat,” Jason growls in your ear, pulling you flush against him. 

You laugh, smacking his chest lightly. 

“Easy there, tiger. You can barely hold yourself up right now.” 

“That’s okay, I don’t need to,” Jason grins, nibbling on your earlobe. “You can just ride me.” 

You roll your eyes, running your hands up his arms as his hands squeeze your sides. 

“I want to go to bed,” You tell him. 

“Funny, I do too,” Jason purrs. 

You put a hand on his chest, pushing him away from your ear. He smiles down at you, resting his forehead against yours as he sways slightly. 

“To sleep,” You clarify. 

“What fun are you?” Jason teases. 

“I’d be a whole lot more fun if it wasn’t 2:30 in the morning,” You snark back, pecking his lips. 

Jason laughs, wrapping his arms around you for a tight hug. 

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” He mutters into your hair. 

“You can make it up to me by finishing your water and eating that sandwich I just made you.” 

Jason sighs dramatically. 

“I suppose I can!” He announces loudly then stumbles toward the bar stool, barely missing a collision with the floor.

You snicker, holding the back of the stool to ensure it doesn’t tip again as Jason as he enjoys his sandwich and drinks his water. 

“Next time, I’ll get drunk with you then we can have drunk sex,” You promise as Jason finishes the last of his water. 

“Really?” Jason asks eagerly. 

You roll your eyes at his eagerness. 

“Babe, you act like we didn’t have sex this morning.” 

“But that was so long ago,” Jason whines. 

You laugh, helping Jason out of the chair. 

“You are so dramatic.” 

“I am a man with needs!” Jason exclaims as you walk him back to your bedroom. 

“You’re an idiot.” 

“Again,” Jason slings his arm around your shoulder, kissing your head. “Your idiot.” 

“Your brother may have been onto something, warning me,” You tease. 

“You know,” Jason admits. “I think Damian is starting to grow on me.” 

“Starting to grow on you?” You shake your head with a sputtering laugh. “He’s been around for six years!”

“He’s not the easiest person to get along with!” 

“And I’m sure your brothers would say the same thing about you,” You tease, kissing Jason’s cheek. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Jason stumbles, leaning heavily on you for a moment. 

He collapses onto the bed face down, kicking his shoes off. You lean in the doorway, watching him, amused. 

“You comfortable there, Jay?” 

He grumbles something into the pillow. You roll your eyes fondly and help Jason pull off his jeans. 

“Oh, babe, I thought you said no sex?” Jason grins, running his hands up your legs. 

“That still stands,” You tell him. “I don’t want to be woken up by you whining about being uncomfortable because you fell asleep in jeans.” 

“I love it when you talk dirty,” Jason teases, kissing you. 

“Uh-huh, shut up, you dork,” You smile, kissing him back. 

You shut off the lights then crawl into bed with Jason. He immediately pulls you against his chest, burying his face into your hair. 

“Good night,” He mumbles to you. 

You smile fondly against his chest. 

“Good night, Jaybird.” 

Thank you guys for being patient! I will be working through the other requests! I’ve missed y’all

[escapewithbts]

Hiiii I love your bts writing! could you do one of yoongi where he and reader have recently just started dating &she's meeting the rest of the members for the first time? thank you so much!

Yes, I love this! I’m going to do it in two parts, I hope you don’t mind! :)

First Impressions (Part One) - Yoongi

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

You heard the front door of Yoongi’s apartment open and close, shaking you out of your thoughts. You ran into the entryway where he was removing his shoes and coat.

“Oh good, you’re back! Hey, do the members like wine? I have beer and soju, but I forgot to get wine. Should I go out and get some wine, too?”

He shook his head and chuckled.

“What a nice welcome home greeting...”

You stepped closer to him and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I’m sorry, baby, welcome home. Did you have a good day at work?”

He shrugged.

“It was alright.”

You kissed his cheek.

“Great! So... the wine question? Should I go out and get some?”

Yoongi walked into the living room and sat down on the couch, propping his feet up on the coffee table. You followed.

“(y/n), they’ll drink whatever. They aren’t picky when it comes to alcohol.”

You cocked your head.

“So that’s a firm ‘no’ then?”

He ran a hand through his black hair and sighed.

“It’s a firm no. It will be fine.”

You and Yoongi became official only a few weeks ago after seeing each other on various dates over the past few months. And tonight it was finally time for you to meet the other members of the k-pop band he was in, BTS, so you decided it would be nice to have them all over at Yoongi’s place and make them dinner. But now that the evening had come, you were extremely nervous and a bit panicky.

“How much longer until they’ll be on their way?” you asked him.

He looked at the time on his phone.

“I told them all to come at 7 so about 45 minutes.”

Your eyes got wide.

“45 minutes?! Shit! I have to start the salad!”

You sprinted back into the kitchen, hearing Yoongi chuckle behind you.

A couple minutes into chopping vegetables for the salad you felt a pair of arms snake around your waist, Yoongi’s chin suddenly resting on your shoulder. He hummed softly in your ear and kissed your neck.

“I thought I should come in here and see if you needed any help,” he said.

You shook your head and smiled, still concentrating on the tomatoes in front of you.

“No thank you Yoongi-ah, you letting me come over early without you here was help enough and I really appreciated it.”

He stood up straight and walked over to the stove where your homemade spaghetti sauce had been bubbling away for a few hours now, melding all the flavors together.

“You decided on spaghetti?” He questioned, stirring the thick sauce.

You nodded.

“Yes. It’s a nice large quantity dish, the recipe was my mother’s so it’s got her special touch and I loved it growing up.”

There was a pause.

“Umm you know Namjoon and Jimin don’t like spaghetti, right?”

You froze and looked up from your chopping board, straight into Yoongi’s smirking face, your eyes wide.

He burst out laughing, with his gummy smile and bouncing shoulders.

“I’m kidding, Jagi, don’t look so freaked out.”

You glared at him but giggled, holding up the knife you were using.

“Don’t mess with me while I’m holding a knife, Min Suga!”

Yoongi chuckled and put his hands up.

“Okay, okay, I’m done, I’m done.”

But suddenly he started sniffing the air.

“Hey, does it smell like something is burning?”

You rolled your eyes.

“I told you to stop messing with me, Yoongi-ah!”

He shook his head.

“No, I’m serious, (y/n).”

A panic fell over you and you rushed to the oven.

“Oh no, the garlic bread!” You exclaimed, grabbing the mitt and opening the door, only to have dark gray smoke escape and the burnt smell take over the kitchen.

You pulled it out and threw it on the stove, black and unsalvageable.

“No, no, nooooooo!” You groaned, “I completely forgot about it! Oh my gosh, what will I do now, I don’t have another loaf!”

You put your face in your hands.

Then you felt Yoongi put his hands on your shoulders and you looked up into his chocolate brown eyes.

“Jagi. It’s okay. It will be okay.”

You looked down and bit your lip.

“But Yoongi I needed that bread. It’s part of the meal! What kind of spaghetti doesn’t have garlic bread?? They’re going to think I’m such a failure if I can’t even heat up bread! Oh my god...”

Yoongi shook you gently.

“Hey, look at me,” you hesitantly glanced back up at him, “Stop freaking out, Jagi. It’s just bread. The rest of the meal will still be delicious without it, okay?”

You nodded slowly.

“Okay... I just,” you sighed, “I wanted everything to be perfect. You’ve said it yourself, they aren’t your members, they’re your family. I want to impress them and most of all I want them to think I’m a good fit for you and can take care of you...”

Yoongi couldn’t help but let out a little laugh.

“Accidentally burning bread doesn’t mean you can’t take care of me, silly,” he gently rubbed your shoulders, “You’ve got to relax, Jagi. You’re stressing me out. They will like you (y/n), because you like me and I like you. I wouldn’t let them meet you if I didn’t think they’d like you.”

You scoffed and punched him gently in the arm.

“Well gee thanks, that’s reassuring.”

He smiled at you and lightly kissed your temple before walking back towards the living room.

“Just don’t worry about the bread, jagi! Everything will still be delicious without it, I promise!”

*

Masterlist

[p-artsypants]

I’ll Handle This (13)

In Which There’s Cheese

Ao3 | FF.net

Trigger or Squick warning: Man has done some messed up stuff in the pursuit of perfect cheese. And what is cheese but moldy, rotten milk? This chapter contains some very foul and nasty descriptions of actual cheese that people eat. So if eating rotting food makes you uncomfortable, best skip to the end of this chapter.

(Spoiler: Plagg gives Lila really gross cheese. She eats it, and has to run out of the room to vomit.)

--

“—so the best way to level up is to get a skill up to 100, and then legendary it back down to 15, so then you can use the skill perks on another ability that’s harder to level up. That’s where I’m at right now. I’m on level 106 and trying to fill up all my skill trees by using smithing, speech, enchanting, lock picking, and blocking.” 

Day three of Lila’s torment, and there was presumably no end in sight. 

Had she known from the beginning that Adrien Agreste was this big of a nerd and completely socially inept, she wouldn’t have talked to him at all. 

Funny how people looked less attractive the more annoying they got. 

And she had tried. She had sincerely tried to get him to shut up. She told him, “I’m sorry Adrien, I’m just not that interested in this video game.” 

“Well, you’ve just never played it before! You should come over this weekend—no, actually, I think we should go to your place. When you aren’t grounded anymore. Your mom seemed to really like me!” 

Of course she did. Her mother likes anyone who’s a ‘good influence’ on her precious baby. And nothing like Paris’ golden boy to fill that bubble.

Her mom probably preferred that Adrien was so naïve and oblivious. 

The bell rang for lunch, and Lila was up and out of her seat without another word. She was tired of the games. Skyrim, Magic: The Gathering, and trying to salvage a friendship with the dumb blond. But Adrien usually ate lunch at home or with Marinette, at least he had been, so lunch was her time to recharge! She’d take her place in the throne room that was the cafeteria and have everyone’s attention. With an hour of that, she could certainly put up with whatever Adrien had to tell her the next half of the day. 

In the cafeteria, most seats were taken. The two open seats were at a table with Alya, Nino, and Marinette. Of course Lila wasn’t thrilled with Marinette, but she’d leave eventually, and someone else would hear her tales and come to sit with them. 

“Hey guys! Do you mind if I sit with you?” Lila smiled, all friendly-like. 

“Not at all, Lila, take a seat!” Alya welcomed. 

Marinette and Nino kept their poker faces as she sat down. 

“So Alya, I had this amazing idea for an article for the Ladyblog, and I bet I could get some quotes from Ladybug for it too.” 

“Or really?” Alya squealed. “That would be amazing! So what’s the idea?” 

“Basically—“ 

“WHO WANTS SOME CHEESE?!” Plagg sang as he took his spot in the last remaining seat, right next to Lila. 

She wanted to die. 

“Cheese?” Said Nino, intrigued. 

“Yeah! I have been dying to give you guys a cheese tasting, and wouldn’t you know it? All my best buds are all together! So it’s perfect!” 

Lila cautiously relaxed. Cheese tastings were just as fancy as wine tastings. Maybe this would be a break and a peek into Adrien’s refinement. She could handle this. 

“Okay, so for you three,” Plagg gestured to Nino, Alya, and Marinette, “I have some more...beginner cheeses. They’re still extremely tasty, but more mild for a less refined palette.” 

“You calling me unrefined?” Nino glared. 

“I see what you eat. And yes.” 

“Touché.” 

“And for you, Lila, you mentioned that two weeks ago, you had dinner with Wolfgang Puck himself. I assumed you could handle more advanced cheeses.” 

Advanced cheeses? “Oh, well, yes of course. I’ve done a few cheese tastings before. Maybe not with the same quality of cheeses as you have...” 

“Then this will be a walk in the park.” He unzipped the lunchbox he had brought with him, and handed out three orange cubes to the ‘beginners’. “Alright, so first, we have a whiskey cheddar.  Whiskey is fermented in oak barrels that can only be used once. So they’re sold to beer, coffee, and cheese makers. The cheese is stored in the barrels and the remnants of the whiskey seep in and give it almost a spicy flavor.” 

They all took a bite, chewing thoughtfully, humming in content. 

“Oh wow, I think I can taste the whiskey! That’s really good!” 

“I’d put this on crackers and eat a whole box! This is really good!” 

“I’m not a huge fan of cheddar,” stated Marinette, “but maybe I just haven’t been trying the right stuff, because this is awesome!” 

“I’m glad you like it!” Plagg beamed. “And for Lila,” he opened a container and a smell emanated immediately. It smelled like rotten armpit. “This is finely aged Limburger, aged to three months. It’s imperative that you take in the scent of the cheese first, before eating it. Don’t waft it, just breathe it in.”

Lila took the offered container, sparing it a withering glance before she inhaled. 

If her face could have melted off, it would have.

“It…smells like rotten feet.” 

“Ah yes, Brevibacterium linens. This is a smear-washed cheese that gets a fresh coating of bacteria that prevents mold and helps the maturing process. As a food connoisseur, you’re getting the peak time of maturity. I usually let it mature longer than this still, so it gets really runny, like camembert~…” At the very name, Plagg moaned in a way that was inappropriate for young ears. He cleared his throat. “Sorry, I got swept away in the moment. Oh right! Limburger, you eat it with your nose. Take another whiff!”

“I’m good.”

“Another whiff I say!”

Lila inhaled, and her whole body shuddered. 

“Perfect. Now you can eat it.” 

She popped the sample in her mouth, and swallowed quickly, shuddering the whole time. 

“Good?”

“Hmm mmm…”

“Oh! I forgot to mention, the bacteria that that cheese is smeared with is the same that grows on your feet, that’s what makes the cheese stink!”

Lila made a face of disgust and turned a little green.

“Great! Round two!” He placed little samples in front of the other three first. “Okay, so this is a little more advanced. This is scamorza, which is much like Mozzarella, but it has a distinct smokey flavor. I think it tastes kind of like wood fired pizza.” 

“It does!” Nino cried, savoring each little nibble. “Oh my god this is so good!” 

Alya took a bit of tomato out of her sandwich and ate that with the cheese. “Oh, that is just like wood fired pizza. I’d love to try this warm! You have to get more of this!”

Plagg grinned. “And you, Marinette?” 

Marinette was still chewing, and just nodded with closed eyes and a contented sigh. 

“Awesome! I personally think scamorza is too mild, but it’s still very good. So for Lila I have another advanced taste.” He took out another sealed container and popped the lid. The smell wasn’t as brutal as the Limburger, but it was still potent. “This is Casu Marzu, a Sardinian delicacy. So it should sound familiar to you, since you’re from Italy and all. It’s made from sheep’s milk. Oh! And it’s illegal, so this sample is from a ‘friend’ who will not be named.”

Lila held the container a little away from her face and peered at it with hesitation. Her lip curled up in disgust, before she gave Plagg an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, Adrien. It looks like this cheese has gone bad.” And she pushed the container back towards him. 

He looked in it. “It looks fine to me. They’re alive. That’s a good thing.” 

“Adrien, those are maggots.” 

“Cheese fly maggots, to be exact,” he corrected. “They’re introduced to the cheese to help break down the fat in the milk.” He pushed the container back in front of her. “I mean, it’s not any more gross than escargot, or caviar, or grasshopper, or tequila worms, you know?”

She looked back at the worms, her lip trembling. “This is a delicacy?”

“Of course! I wouldn’t bring bad cheese in for a laugh.” He took out a spoon and scooped out a little cheese, worms and all, and spread it on a piece of flatbread. Then he ate it. “Ohhh that’s good!”

“I…” She cast one more look at the container and confessed, “I’m sorry Adrien. I just can’t do it. It’s too gross for me.”

“Oh,” said Plagg, with genuine sadness in his voice. “Okay I guess...anyone else want to try?” 

Marinette, who was always looking for a chance to show up Lila, offered up, “I’ll give it a try.” 

Plagg’s eyes widened with glee. “You will?!” 

“Sure. Even if it’s gross, I can say I tried it. Not everyday you get to eat illegal cheese. And you ate some, afterall.” 

“Yes! I promise it’ll be worth it! You just have to thoroughly chew it to kill the maggots.” 

Marinette scrunched up her nose. “Can I...kind of eat around the worms?” 

“You can try.” 

So to Marinette’s credit, she did eat some of the cheese, though it was picked through, and she scraped what she could off with a knife. Then she spread a little on a larger piece of bread, more bread than cheese obviously, then chewed her sample thoroughly. 

“Well?” Asked Plagg, bouncing in his seat. “I think it’s kind of like Camembert and Gorgonzola had a baby. A rotten, decaying baby.”

“Mmm hmmm.” Marinette nodded, her lips shut tight. Once she swallowed, she downed a huge swig of her water, swishing around in her mouth first. 

“That bad, huh?” Asked Alya. 

“No no, it actually tasted really really good. And I couldn’t feel the worms or anything. I just couldn’t get over the idea that they were there. You know?” 

“It’s scary!” Plagg assured. “I know it freaked me out when I was a kid, but if it wasn’t worth it, they wouldn’t make it!” 

“You’re wicked brave, Marinette.” Nino patted her on the back. 

She chuckled. “Alright. Do you have any more samples so I can cleanse my palette?” 

“Oh yep! Last round!” He set out three more samples. “So this is Cantal. It’s from Cantal, France, obviously. And it’s often thought of as a dessert cheese, as it’s got a sort of spicy sweet taste, or like hazelnuts. Oh, and you’ll want to eat it with these apple slices. This is a young wheel, only two months old.” 

Contented hums filled the air as the three munched on the sweet, buttery, fruity delight. 

Plagg felt extremely pleased that he convinced Adrien’s friends to eat cheese. And he was especially proud of Marinette for eating the best, most amazing cheese of all time. If casu marzu wasn’t an absolute pain to get ahold of, and if it were more portable, he’d demand Adrien to get him that instead of Camembert. 

But, as it was, they had to go with more convenient cheeses. 

“I think I’m all cheesed out...” said Lila. 

“Dude, you only actually had one sample. You can’t bow out now!” 

At this point, especially after the maggots, a small crowd had assembled around the table to observe the tasting. And if anyone would cave under peer pressure, it was Lila. 

“Well, I suppose I could try one more...” 

“Perfect! Because this last sample is really special!” He placed the little white flecked square in front of her. “This is my take on pepper jack cheese.” 

“Wait, you made this?” She asked. 

“Yep! I figured that if I love eating cheese so much, I should make my own!” 

“So what’s it made of?” Lila asked, hesitant. 

“You have to guess! I want to see if you can guess the milk and the pepper. It’s part cow milk, obviously, but I wanted a different flavor that you don’t get with most semi hard cheeses.” 

“And there’s no bugs in it?” 

Plagg laughed. “Nope, no bugs!” 

Feeling a bit better, Lila brought the sample up to her mouth. The smell was subtle, a little spicy, a little milky. Not at all like the last two. 

She bit the sample in half, and chewed thoughtfully. “It’s...kind of sweet...but the spice is...” she blinked a few times, her face turning red and eyes watering. “It’s hot. It’s really hot!” She ate the other half, and then regretted it. “Ugh! I shouldn’t have done that!” She swallowed and downed her little carton of milk, but the heat wouldn’t leave. It kept getting worse and worse! 

“What did you put in there?! What was that?!” 

Plagg looked confused. “It’s really that spicy?” 

“My mouth hurts!! It hurts to talk!” 

“All it is is Carolina Reaper and Breast Milk.” 

Lila was up and out like a bolt, running to the bathroom to hurl. 

Marinette likewise, had to leave the room, as her uproarious laughing at Lila’s suffering would have looked really bad. 

—

(If you were looking for the cheese free section of the chapter, this is it!)

Lila didn’t return to class immediately. In fact, it was two periods later when she finally returned. Her face was flushed and her eyes bloodshot, and she had a wet spot on her shirt. Before everyone settled in, she claimed Adrien’s old seat, right up front. 

“Sorry,” she croaked, her voice hoarse after retching so much. “Vomiting usually exacerbates my tinnitus. I hope you don’t mind if I sit up front, Adrien.” 

Nino answered, “oh dude, you can have my spot. That way you and Adrien can still sit together!” 

Lila’s eyes widened slightly in horror, but before she could protest, Alya slid into the spare seat. She was unfortunately not in on the plan, and was picking up all the blatant body language Plagg was ignoring. “I think Lila needs a little girl time, after her rough lunchtime experience.”

Marinette silently scooted over into Alya’s spot, so that Plagg could sit right behind Lila. It wasn’t ideal, but it would work. Nino gave them both a silent thumbs up and took the open spot in the back of the room.

Lila let out a sigh of relief. 

“You okay, girl?” Alya asked.

“Yeah.” She said shortly. Lila was done with the day. She would have gone home if she thought her mom would believe the cheese story, but as it was, she was already in hot water. She just needed to make it through the last two periods, and she’d be okay. Maybe she could convince her mom that she was sick and stay home tomorrow? I would be worth a try. She just needed some time away from Adrien. He was much too much. 

As if reading her mind, Plagg leaned forward in his seat and spoke softly to her. “So I wanted to tell you about Stalhrim. It’s a material they added in the DLC, and you can learn how to craft with it, but it’s triggered by a quest. The first time I played the game, the person who was supposed to give the quest was killed by a lurker. Hold on, let me backup, so there are these huge monoliths call Standing Stones, and they all give you special abilities, like the Steed Stone let’s you carry things and the Apprentice Stone lets you learn magic quicker—“ 

As he talked, Lila’s fingers curled into the surface of the desk. His words didn’t even make any sense anymore, it was just this droning sound that wouldn’t stop. 

“So in the DLC, the stones are totally different, right? And there’s this bad dude named Miraack and he’s also a Dragonborn. You remember what a Dragonborn is, right? Except this one is bad and he’s brainwashing the people on the island of Solstheim. Oh right, the whole DLC takes place on a separate island—“ 

The whole two weeks had been a camel. And each little rant or pushed boundary Adrien forced was another piece of straw piling up. Just then, it was like that fragile spine snapped, and something in Lila went from ‘playing the long game’ to ‘MURDER’.

“SHUT UP!” Lila screamed, pounding her fists on the table. “OH MY GOD JUST SHUT THE HELL UP!” She stood and whirled around to glare at him. “Adrien, you are the single most obnoxious person I have ever met! You just don’t know when to shut up! Are you dense? Are you retarded? How can you not see that I literally cannot give a flying eff about anything you say?! I was trying to be your friend because I thought it would be an easy way to fame. Then I felt sorry for you because of how awkward you are. Now? It’s not worth it. It’s not worth pretending to think you’re interesting when you aren’t. It’s not worth trying to ease back and deal with everyone wondering what happened. Everyone in class would wonder why we weren’t talking anymore, and I’d have to come up with more lies to get away from you, and I just don’t want to deal with that! You’re not worth it, okay? You are so selfish and annoying! Is this why your dad kept you home schooled all your life? Because he needs to lock you right back up! You are a menace!” She swung back around for a moment to gather her belongings. “I can’t even be in the same room as you anymore. I’m so done with you and your stupid rants about stupid video games! And what kind of weirdo is that obsessed with cheese?! You ate maggots for Christ sake! You’re disgusting! If you weren’t attractive, I bet your father would have regretted having you, if he hasn’t already!” She moved to the door quickly. “I’m asking to change classes, effective immediately. I suggest everyone run while you still can!” Then she caught Marinette’s eye. “Listen, I dislike you almost as much as him, but you don’t want him, Marinette. He’s an absolute freak. Look at him! He’s wearing that stupid ramen themed sweat suit! You know what? Forget it! I’m out!” And she left, slamming the door behind her. 

No one had the nerve to speak after she left. It was just too big of a can of worms, no one wanted to open it. 

The silence was broken by a high pitched whine, followed by a sob. 

Though Marinette knew it was Plagg faking it, the sight of tears on Adrien’s face made her heart hurt. 

“Oh Adrien...” 

“You still like me, right Marinette?” He blubbered. 

She hugged him. “Of course, Adrien. I love you.” 

That seemed to be the words to break the spell and the classmates descended on him like vultures. 

“You’re not annoying, Adrien!” Someone protested. 

“You’re the coolest!” 

“I love talking video games with you!” 

“That cheese testing was really fun!” 

“Who cares if you struggle with social cues? We all do! You do better than most, even for being homeschooled!” 

“Lila admitted she was in the friendship for fame, her opinion doesn’t matter!” 

Marinette whispered in his ear. “Nicely done, but I was not expecting that blow up.” 

“Thanks, I was hoping she’d crack soon. That was just as violent as I had expected of her.” 

“You okay? Those look like genuine tears.” 

Plagg wiped his face as the rest of the class started to back off. “I’m okay,” he whispered. “Just hurts to hear someone be so cruel to my kitten.” 

He glanced at the ring, hoping to see the final pad gone, and the one minute wait to switch back initiated. 

But alas, no. The third pad was still there. 

Lila wasn’t finished yet.