#also experimented with a slightly diff finish!

[jays-supersonic-dynamo]

some survivalshipping wrow

[zaceouiswriting]

The unfaithful bat: A new villain

Character: Clark Kent x male reader, Bruce Wayne x male reader

Universe: Somewhere in DC

Warnings: Very dark, reading on your own risk.

Life became good after Bruce Wayne. Your children were thriving. Especially the oldest two, Dick and Jason. You had never seen, how badly your husband had treated them really. It broke your heart that you were this blind to the things he had done. Now both adults, one with serious abandonment issues, a pessimistic outlook on relationships and the other, massive anger issues and falling into drugs.

At least the drug problems, were you able to end, after you got wind of it. He even got into a prestige university, after he became clean and actually mastered the aptitude test. Still he does not leave your home, he does all the work over the internet. Just to make sure, you would never be alone. Paranoia had exceeded in all of them. Except Damien, who actually kicked a group of villains out of the house once, when nobody even knew they were there.

Years later, Dick became a detective, a job made for him, while Jason is actually studying psychology. After everything he went trough, even dying once, I could not think of someone better to do it. Even when he needed to work, on listening to people.

Tim was an another story, the time he had spent in his room, on all his computers paid off for him. He didn’t even finished high school and already is leader of the „Digital Wayne branch“, Wayne Industries products, now easy to access over the worldwide web. And we also got into all sorts of diff rents industries as well, even movies.

Damien, actually changed, after Bruce had became this picture of an abusing cheater. For a while he kept for himself, lashed out at everyone except for you. But then slowly, he became kinder. He actually cared for others and fought those who bullied weaker people. His school hates him, because he on more than one occasion, broke someone a bone or two. But at the end, they had no foot to stand on.

The most prosperous, were you at the end. Your life took a sudden turn, when Clark asked you out on a date, one evening after a long interview. At this point, you were ready to pounce on him. So handsome sitting in an arm chair in your mansion. His tie slightly opened, just as his button up shirt, showing off his perfectly sculptured chest muscles.

But you could hold yourself, at least for a while. The second time you two found each other in a similar way, a couple of dates in, but not quite in a relationship yet, you did what your heart desired and climbed that tree. It was the most loving and intense experience you ever had in your life. Bruce was nothing in comparison to this younger man. Closer to Dicks age than yours, but it didn’t bothered you. 

The kids had accepted him rather easily, which shouldn’t have been that surprising, because they already spoke of him in high regards, which you never understood or from where they had known him. But that was okay, maybe some connection Bruce had, you never knew about. As much during your marriage.

Now years later, and your relationship far enough to call each other fiancés. Life became what it always gets too, stressful. While Clark, could theoretically work everywhere, you couldn’t do always the same. And lately the office needed you more often. Sometimes even for extremely important meetings, that could’ve stopped further expansions.

Clark understood, as he always does. You never thought a perfect man could walk this planet, but thanks to him, you believed otherwise now. 

Sometimes you even thought that he was way too good for you, especially after the debacle with Bruce and his countless tries in the beginning to get you and his family back. Isabelle, as you had named the daughter, his affair partner brought into this world, while you and Bruce were still married, knew only you and Clark as her fathers. She knew of Bruce, but never wanted contact with him.

She was still young and might change her mind later, with which you never had any problems, you hated this man, but would never hold him back to be a father, if he ever wanted to be one, that is.

It was just a normal day, Clark went to work that day, would only be able to make it close to night back home, but that was okay. You were on the way to the office, walking a while with Dick and Jason, until both of them needed to take their own paths. Everyday a little philosophical, even though all of you went separate ways, you always come back together.

Not so on this day. Close to night, when Clark finally came back, his stepsons already waited. Isabelle already in bed, without any worry in the world. But her four older brothers, were distraught to put it lightly.

„Did you see our dad?“, they almost in unison asked their dads fiancé. But he just shook with his head.

„Shouldn't he be home? It is late,“ he only commented, not really grasping what was going on. The boys looked at each other puzzled. Which made Clark think again. It took him a moment, but he finally got the message, „Shoot, I have my costume with me. I search for him!“

Not even a second later, superman stood in front of the boys, they would need to take the long way to get to their equipment but promised, to follow him.

You woke up, with a pain on the back of your head. Disoriented, with a headache for days, you desperately wanted to look after the wound, hoping it wouldn’t be too bad. Instead of getting your hand there, you found yourself confined, with chains around your arms. Actually hold upright by them. Your head slightly hanging, with the pain impossible to get up.

Tough your feet were directly on the floor, they couldn’t be moved neither. Chained to the same floor you stood upon. Nowhere out, no voice to cry for help and with pain, that felt like it could kill you. The only thing you were able to do, was waiting for whoever took you to come back or for someone to save you.

Even tough you were a loved public figure, you did not think, that this was important enough for others to search for you. Maybe you just left and told no one, it wouldn’t have been the first time, that someone in your position did something like this. Or you just wanted to flee this entire ordeal with your divorce and subsequently moving away. But without your children? And after all this time? 

Still you did not believed that someone could find you wherever you got chained up. It was dark, but the cold, slightly moist air, told you it was deep down somewhere.

For hours you kept yourself awake, to not fall asleep again with this massive wound on the back of your head. Arms slowly losing every feeling you ever had in them. Them getting cold from the little blood that get pumped into them. You had giving up to get out of there, the moment the feeling left your arms.

Now more or less, hanging on the chains, waiting for your capturer to come back, do whatever they have planned, maybe even getting a lot of ransom and hopefully letting you go in one piece.

Just then, finally you heard footsteps, together with a light source. For just a moment, your world was full with color, even in the darkness itself. Maybe it was help? You wanted to call out, until you saw who it was.

A lustful devilish smirk, laid upon a handsome face. One that you had called the love of your life not too long ago. „My love, here you are, I have searched for you everywhere.“ Directly after telling you that, he laughed maniacally. Like a lunatic. A well known black mask in his hand. It was the first time, you had seen him in his costume. You vaguely knew of his and your sons nightly activities. But actually never believed it.

„You are really batman?“ Your hoarse, vanishing voice, scared you, not only that but your throat was so dry, that every word spoken felt like the insides of your throat got polished with sandpaper.

„Of course I am baby, I told you many times. But you never believed me. Always working looking after the company, that you stole from me. His original owner!“, he screamed at you. But quickly recovered from it again. „Im sorry, I promised myself not to scream. But did it anyway hehe.“ His light laughter, sounded completely unhinged to you. Why was he keeping you there? Was he the one abducting you? No, that can’t be, if he is really Batman, he would’ve tried to save me, not taking my as a hostage. Yeah, he must be there to help you.

As you began to smile again, he did too. But for completely other reasons. „I knew, you would come around. Seeing me again as your husband and this time, even as your master. As I deserve to be.“

This little speech, was the turning point for your hopes and happiness. Your smile vanished as fast as it came to be. Dread taking you over. 

„Oh did you hoped, I was here to help you? But I had already taking problems on me, to even take you, darling. How foolish of you! I obviously will keep you. Break you and build you up again, to be completely mine again. This little boy toy of yours, surely will not be able to satisfy you, right darling?“

His question sounded anything else than that. More like a plead to tell him what he wanted to hear, but you weren’t a big liar, so you just shut your mouth.

„Right darling?“, he asked more forceful, getting to you faster than his short steps before had promised you. As he almost was right in front of you, trough the little light, he was giving, you were able to see the absolute craziness in his eyes.

No longer than his hands caressing you face, you already knew that he wasn’t there to help you, but the opposite. The hunger for revenge was all too visible on his face. „Be a good boy, like you were when we were married and just let it happen.“ He tried to whisper in your ear seductively.

But it came out like the words of a maniac, spoken like gibberish, together with trembling fingers. „If you are good, I show you how a real man treats his partner.“

Even if you didn’t wanted to, a short chuckle came out of your mouth. It didn’t even take a second, before you felt a tingle in your cheek. The burning sensation from something hitting you there. „I see, you don’t want to be a good boy, then the hard tour. Maybe you learn to be good again, baby.“

Every time he gives you a nickname, you could feel a sickening feeling deep inside of you, one that only can happen, when you know that something really wasn’t right there. When you gut tells you, that something horrible will happen.

At the latest it became obvious, when he started to let his hands wander. First over your clothed body, but really quickly underneath it. Until he ripped and pulled at all of your clothes. They either ripped fully or let you have at least some decency.

With the horror happening right in front of your face, you became frozen. Just looking at the man you once loved and still a bit did, started to doing something like this to you?

Unable to process the happenings, you did nothing. What Bruce must’ve seen as consent. As he tried to kiss you, were you finally able to break free. Instead of kissing back, as he might have hoped, you bit on his lip.

As you tasted his slightly foul blood, he already punched in your stomach. Doubled down in pain. Bruce was walking around you. Helping you up from behind. But not out of love or his guilty conscious. No, his plans are way more malicious. 

With all the ripping and pulling of your clothes, you at first haven’t even noticed it, but as you felt a warm hand on your behind, you were aware that something sinister was going on in Bruces head.

Before you even could beg for him not doing anything to you, he already had punched you again and again and again. Even electrocuting you, to his delight. It was sickening. But everything he was doing to you, robbed you a little bit more of the energy you had saved up to hopefully flee from this place at some point.

Until you were hanging there, legs buckled in, again not even enough energy to speak. „Was it really this heart, my love? Know I can finally show you how a good husband cares for their partner.“ Without any further notice, he pushed himself into you. Except for your widened eyes, nothing else happened.

Your throat was too pained to say a word or scream. He violated you what felt like for hours on end. Not even getting tired. He relentlessly dove into you, punching, cutting and slapping you all the time, while he put you down with every second word.

Never in your life had you ever felt this disgusting. So dirty and humiliated.

At some point he left, where you had thought that he was finished with you and left you there to die. But he came back, with more equipment, with multiple different whips, a gag ball and what he could’ve find.

You had no idea what had happened. Almost directly after Bruce had begun his second assault on you, nothing mattered anymore. Instead of being there, you fell in an old memory of yours, playing on fields, that were part of your families farm. Or was it a dream of you and Clark at his parents farm, where you felt so safe?

But as you later came back to your senses, multiple hands tried to save you. Thinking that it again was Bruce, but this time with more people around him, you began to cry. Bitter tears ran down your cheeks.

„Hey, hey, dad everything is okay, we are getting you out of here!“ As you heard your oldest sons voice, with all your left strength, you looked up at him. Pity, was the most evident in his eyes. Something you never wanted to see. Concern and anger, only side characters in his mix of emotions.

„Where is Clark? He can’t be here. Bruce has a trap for him. Please safe him!“, you begged your son. Bruce had told you all the secrets. Now aware that you next love was also a superhero, you weren’t so sure anymore. But still your love for him was strong.

„I get it, Jason you take him to a hospital, he needs immediate care!“

Jason hasn't said a single word, the entire time, he was carrying you from this place, to the nearest hospital. That he even could carry you this far was already a wonder in itself.

Thankfully, he had given you a Jacket to hide most of your at least intimate parts and even put a second mask on you, so no one would see who he was carrying.

In the hospital itself, some nurses came running down to you and Jason, trying to get you out of his arms. But he did not budged. Asking for specific doctors. Which as soon as they came, he let you in their care, warnings them, that nobody can know who you are.

At least you were safe again. You could only hope, that Clark aka Superman was as lucky as you were. But he was a superhero, of course he would come back to you. right?

Taglist: @ravenqueen27

[misterbitches]

so like life sucks right so im trying to pluck my face and i stumbled upon bounprem stuff even tho i've been watching like nothing or drumming videos (i lied... know why, cos i keep clicking on fanmade mvs for winteamidk why bc i hate watching them but they give me info in extremely close amounts of time)

ANYWAY

con: is boun rich? if so, shame

pro: everything else. i ESPECIALLLLLLLY like how they want to work behind the camera!!!!!!! it seems like that was boun's goal all along which really excites me as a ~filmmakeur~ and i like that prem may try it too. i laughed when he didnt know what a slate was but he didn't know about production and he's a green actor so i can believe that but he shouldnt sell himself short cos being an actor can give you a lot of insight into the behind the scenes work. it also makes u appreciate us more :)

this makes me want to hug my friends lmao i havent seen or touched friends and i'm fucking single and im high alone GOD WHY!!!!

anyway my point was that im high and love them and i hope they do art >:)

lastly, i hope they are friends forever they have great chemistry and their true actual care for e/o. i was thinking about how i don't ship people but i enjoy seeing good relationships esp in this context. bl is really devoid of a lot of shit but i think what's the best thing about seeing two people who share a space and are being looked at is the chemistry of how that dynamic works as co-workers and, hopefully, close friends. that's why pretend camraderie is important when doing (dumb) press-circuits (so people can make ze $)

it's always nice to see natural chemistry or people learning their rship or even people who may not be close after shooting (in any context, but here in particularly) but find themselves as older casual friends to catch up with. since this genre is so heavily focused on blurring those lines or whatever when things start getting weird (like from exposure and lack of good skilsl of acting and/or care or whatever idk im high) or they have shitty rships in between them for whatever reason u can immediately tell

so like oh your chemistry is real ! on top of that for some it's like oh real and ur playing characters that are falling in love. idk what im saying it's just reaally exciting to meeee u have a perosn with u supporting u thru the same process u r. also with two people there's always going to be someone who picks up not...slack but is more into a leadership type position (i hate using this word) but somoene you rely on if you arent the type to want to take care of eveyrthing—a lot of friends and couples do it (i do with my best friends. literally i'll be quiet and let them do things im too embarrassed to do but im still insanely forceful and i will play that role for them if needed) so bounprem have that in their natures and boun being older and slightly mroe mature (or i would say again different natures who knows)

it's the same type of joy you get and excitement you feel when ensemble casts truly like each other and it's ~natural energie~ (like in my engineer the whole feel of it i'm just like omg u guys are FRIENDS fijshoufija theyre so cute; hope theyre all okay) it also shows that you have someone/people you trust and having fun on set is really important. filming should be fun. a lot of times i don't like finishing shows because if the chemistry is good for the cast i feel like empty, like im leaving the set. that's a really good feeling tho!!!

anyway i think a big part of it (im still trying to articulate myself) is the fact that they dont have to be real but have the capacity to be and can set the limits of their rship but it's really nice to have a really influential set of people who want the best for you and vice versa esp if someone knows u more intimately in a capacity many people may not experience/understand because of ur job (IE showing as ~lovers~ but being friends irl even tho uve been very intimate for simulation and artistic value. this is based on a specific set of principles btw i'm not including sex work here bc it's also very different and a job in a different way but it doesnt make it lesseer than anything. all jobs suck tho)

ALSO I realize how easily their personalities fit winteam not in a 'they dont have to try" way cos they do and should. they're ok actors and the more u do and learn etc but the chemistry tests they probably had with them probably solidified that even though they are very diff than their characters. being an insanely good swimmer from jump gives the watcher the impression of probably perfectionism, a bit of torment, perhaps dumb jock syndrome, and having to be insanely good; for win the tattoos are an instant signifier instantly (if u c them) cos it's always like ~ooh what's the story~* lmao

[smute]

i was tagged by the wonderful gem gem gemmaaaaaaaaaa @whenwinterfell

1. what do you prefer to be called name-wise?

name-calling? bitch (affectionate) or bro (sarcastic) but jan is also fine

2. when is your birthday?

10 april

3. where do you live?

atm im still enrolled in bremen but i moved back to [redacted] to live with my parents when i started going insane(r) in my dorm room after months of isolation. will probably move to berlin in the fall bc my plans a, b, and c fell through and i dont know what else to do but lets not talk about that 🥲

4. three things you are doing right now?

having a really bad day, drawing on my arm like a child, listening to marina

5. four fandoms that have peaked your interest?

i honestly dont even know what a fandom really is lmao my obsessions with stuff never last long enough to grow into anything substantial

6. how has the pandemic been treating you?

idek how to answer this.... i know im one of the lucky ones and im very grateful, but at the same time im doing worse than ever before... the past 15 months have been hard, a lot has been destroyed and im struggling to look ahead or feel hopeful ✌️😗

7. a song you can’t stop listening to right now?

VENUS FLY TRAP

8. recommend a movie:

Legally Blonde (2001)

9. how old are you?

29 and fuck you for asking (jk lol)

10. school, university, occupation, other?

im about to start an MA in english lit 🤡 and i justify my existence in this capitalist system with 3 separate jobs in 3 diff teams of my uni's pr department (yes its about as adhd friendly as it sounds)

11. do you prefer heat or cold?

COLD!!!! im a sweaty bitch and my skin is a beautiful, delicate shade of raw pork so i really hate the summer. i can admit that the concept has a certain appeal tho

12. name one fact others may not know about you

not really a fact but a fun anecdote: i transferred schools in first grade, just a few months into the school year and, on the first day at my new school, went home with a random girl. apparently sabrina had invited me to hang out, so we went to her house and spent the afternoon watching cartoons and eating candy. we were both latchkey kids (quite common where im from). my mom finished work around noon and obviously shat a brick when she came home to an empty apartment. my parents freaked the fuck out, called everyone they knew and eventually a major police operation was launched within hours of my disappearance... like friends and family were searching all over town for me, police were sweeping fields and the forest next to our neighborhood and 6 year old me was just chilling at this girls house lmaooooo... her mom came home later that night and asked me if my parents knew where i was BECAUSE SHE HAD HEARD A RADIO ANNOUNCEMENT ABOUT A MISSING BOY. the weird thing is that sabrina had TWO older sisters who were obviously supposed to watch her (us?) but neither of them had the wherewithal to ask "hmm do the parents of this new kid you dragged in from the street know where he is?"

13. are you shy?

idk man... yeah? but then people keep telling me i come across as an extrovert and outgoing or whatever and i just think to myself omfg? i have to stop overcompensating

14. preferred pronouns?

he/they

15. biggest pet peeves?

"people who chew with their mouth open" <- yes absolutely! and when people interrupt others... which is slightly hypocritical of me but it just drives me up the wall!!!! even when it happens to others and im just a witness it makes me flip my lid

16. what is your favourite “dere” type?

my what now

17. rate your life from 1-10: idk man my brain doesnt really do long term analytics? i find a gummy bear on the floor - its an eleven. i experience a minor inconvenience - i want to kms.

18. what’s your main blog?

this is my only one

19. list your sideblogs and what they’re used for:

i feel like you're not even listening to me

20. is there something people need to know about you before becoming friends?

i guess it takes me a while to warm up to people but once we reach the friendship stage its basically impossible to get rid of me and im very loyal and committed? sounds like a dog lmao. BUT at the same time that can be hard to see for other people bc im also impulsive and not the best when it comes to consistent communication so... dont take it personally when i disappear for a few days and then message u like nothing happened🥺

tagging: @shyredpanda @mmolia ❤️‍🔥

[for-ests]

Hey, not sure if you do smut but I think this request can work without a lot if you’d prefer😁 reader’s an art student and needs to sculpt a full body nude sculpture and Tom offers but gets a bit cheeky

thanks for the request dear! this was fun to write :-) i literally know nothing about art so if I get something wrong just ignore! i hope you enjoy!! i went a diff +route but I still think it fits! [ mlist ] 

Word count: 3, 273

Warnings: slight nsfw,, nudity 

Pairing: Tom Holland x art student reader!

“The issue is… I have no idea who to ask.” You sighed deeply, embarrassment washing over you as you talked to your best friends about your upcoming project. 

Everyone knew you were a talented sculptor. That wasn’t the issue. The issue was that your professional sculpting internship at (your school) was currently learning about Ancient Greece. One of the requirements to pass the semester was to recreate a modern sculpture of someone you knew, and to make it as realistic as possible. Nakedness and all, which was a huge distinction of Greek statues.

There was a big problem though. You were incredibly shy, and you didn’t know who to ask to model for you.

Nudging you with a laugh, your friend flashed you a mischievous smile. “You know a lot of cute guys, why don’t you ask one of them?”

“Cute guys?” You scrunched your nose. “I know like three guys and I would cry if I had to see them naked.”

She sighed. “Fair. Does it have to be a guy?”

*-You nodded regretfully. “It has to be the opposite sex. It’s annoying but I u

erstand why. It’s important to be familiar with both sexes.”

Your best friend air quoted ‘familiar’ with a ridiculous smirk.

“Shut up.” You huffed, trying not to laugh at how dramatic she had become.

“I think I know a guy, he’s an aspiring actor and model.” Your best friend added casually.

Groaning, you shot her a glare. “Why didn’t you say that right away?”

She shrugged. “I like listening to you talk about your art.”

Her compliment almost worked, but you already knew that was partly the reason she was teasing you so hard. The other reason was because she had been trying to set you up with multiple friends for months. According to her, you had been single for far too long.

Her offer made you ponder deeper about your situation. You were slightly awkward when it came to getting to know someone, but you couldn’t imagine asking someone to strip right away so you could sculpt every curve your eyes grazed over. Whoever it ended up being had to be incredibly confident. Shallow yes, but that’s why you were hoping to find someone insanely attractive. Attractive people were usually confident, and responsibly so. “Maybe a stranger would be worse than someone I know.”

Snorting through her nose, your best friend stared at you like you were crazy. “Definitely not. If it’s awkward you never have to see him again. And if it’s not, well you can get cozy with a cutie.”

Taking a deep breath, you rolled your eyes. “I hate you sometimes.” You mumbled under your breath. You knew she was right, but you would never inflate her already enormous ego like that.

“You love me.” She sang sweetly.

“I do, now give him my number and tell him it’s of the utmost importance.”

❀∙∘✿∘∙❀

Days later, that conversation was on your mind as you nervously organized your sculpting tools. Trying to relieve some tension, you slapped a pound of clay against the table, and it echoed throughout the workshop.

Reality was the fact that this so called model boy was on his way to your studio. His name was Tom, and from the pictures you saw–he was incredibly handsome.

You couldn’t believe you had agreed to this, but alas, you needed this experience to pass your class. You just hoped and prayed that Tom was a lot more outgoing than you, and could keep the conversation flowing as you stared intently as his erect… penis.

Your cheeks flared up at the thought. How the hell were you going to do this?

Y/N: help (Y/B/F/N) I cant do this!!! im freaking out

Y/B/F: is he even there yet? lmfao

Y/N: noooooo :((

Y/B/F: if it makes you feel any better, he’s excited and thinks ur pretty

Y/N: why didn’t you tell me that before??!

Y/B/F: do u feel better now tho?

Y/N: no

Y/B/F: ik ur smiling ;) u aint slick

Giggling like a schoolgirl to relieve some of your anxiety, you set your cell phone on the table. Truthfully, your best friend had made you feel better. If anything bad happened, it would surely be a wonderful story to tell everyone in the future.

Your eyes naturally glanced across the room to the clock on the wall. 7:00pm. Tom would be here any minute as scheduled.

You took a deep breath and studied your surroundings. All your tools were in place, and the entire studio was tidied up as if you hadn’t worked the space in weeks. Next, you walked to the wall and glanced at your reflection in the mirror.

With your hair in a bun and your shabby working clothes, you looked suitable at best. You did have a little bit of makeup on to help yourself feel more confident. If you felt good, you could make your client feel good in return.

At least it looked like you didn’t try too hard. You didn’t want this man to get the wrong idea.

Then, snapping you out of your trance, there was a knock on the door.

You straightened out your shirt one last time, and tucked your baby hairs back behind your ears. Scoffing immediately after, you shook your head. Why were you trying to look cute? Who cares!

You rushed to grab the front door, afraid that you were making him wait too long. You flung it open, eyes locking with his right away.

You froze.

He was even more dashing in person.

“Judging by your cute outfit, I think I’m at the right place. Y/N right?”

And a British accent?

“Y-yes!” You flashed a smile to mask your obvious hesitation. You could easily play it off by opening the door and keeping your gaze averted. You were the master of smoothness.

“Thank you for coming, it’s about time I got this project done…” You tittered, locking the door behind him for privacy purposes. “You can set your things on the couch over there.” You pointed, eyes meeting his again when he glanced to the couch and then back to you.

“Awesome.” He nodded, holding your gaze for a moment longer than necessary.

“Do you want anything to eat or drink?” You offered, nodding your head back to the small kitchen in the back of the studio. You wished the studio apartment was yours alone, but you shared it with multiple other college students in your program.

“Water… or beer if you have any?”

You threw your head back in laughter, causing Tom to smile at your genuine reaction.

“Yeah, I can get you one.”

“In the meantime, should I just strip?” He smirked, not trying to be sly with his flirtations. Though your cheeks were dusting with pink, you were able to match his energy. Your best friend definitely set you up with someone she knew you’d like.

“Do whatever you want, love.” You mimicked his British accent. “You’re the guest after all.”

Walking past him, you gave him one last look when he was fully-clothed. Tom was certainly the player type, practically the perfect embodiment of the muse you had in mind. This wouldn’t be awkward for you, and it would be even better for him. Men like him thrived off of cheeky discomfort in their female counterparts.

Yet, truthfully, you were enjoying it as well. It felt nice to be complimented so soon into an introduction.

As you cracked open a can of beer for Tom and yourself, you could hear him shuffling around with his items. The sound of his buckle falling against the floor made you suddenly nervous to turn around.

Inhaling sharply, and gulping down a few more sips of beer, you finally gained the courage to walk back to the studio setup, where Tom had already wandered over to, completely naked.

“You seem to be in your element.” You noted, trying to keep your eyes leveled with his. Now that you were thinking about it, remaining calm and professional was excruciating in front of such an attractive man. And it certainly wasn’t helping that he was enjoying your embarrassment.

And least this was exciting.

Thanking you, Tom took the beer and pressed his lips against the cold aluminum. “I would definitely feel a lot more comfortable if you were naked too, darling.”

“Hey now,” You nose scrunched in a form of mock distaste. The man caught on immediately, holding your gaze with a sort of amusement that was masking desire. “I might think about it if you sit nice and pretty for me for more than five minutes so I can sketch you.”

“Your wish is my command.”

Shaking your head in disbelief, you walked over to your crafting desk. You decided you were going to start with the hardest part, the part which your grade depended heavily on- from the waist down.

But first, you quickly sketched Tom posing in multiple poses until you were satisfied with one. You had him mimic a sculpture you couldn’t recall, where one hand was pointed forward and the other was rested casually on his hip.

“Can I see what one you want to do?” He asked curiously from the stand you had him propped up on for a better view.

“Sure.” You flashed him your finished sketch. The lines darted all over the page, making it hard for him to picture what was going on in your head. The picture you had drawn would not make sense to anyone else but the artist. But apparently you were talented, so he would trust the process.

You were also trusting the process. The situation you were in could only be awkward if you allowed it to be. And so far it was moving along smoothly. You had your favorite music playing softly in the background to fill the silence, and Tom seemed to be relaxed and unbothered by how quietly you worked.

“That’s cool.” Tom whispered, his eyes narrowing in confusion.

Giggling from his sudden proximity, you tried to tease him. “It’s fine to not understand it.”

“I definitely don’t know what’s going on but it’s still interesting.” He admitted.

You set the paper back down on the table, and decided to attempt and sculpt the base. Moving past a still naked Tom, you tried to immerse yourself in your work, or at least make it seem like you were focused. “This takes hours you know, weeks and months- it won’t make sense for a long time.”

“Perfect.” He grinned. “I’ll get plenty of time to know you better.”

Laughing through your nose, you kept your attention on the clay you had dropped on the floor. “You can put your clothes back on.”

“Oh!” He chuckled. “Yeah.”

As you carefully trimmed the base clay with a heavy frame, you lifted your head to find Tom slipping a robe back on. He definitely came prepared. Had he done this before?

“Come here.” You gestured. “I need you to set your feet down on the clay.”

“I didn’t think this would get dirty so fast.”

“Shut up.” You huffed, grabbing his foot and pressing it down hard until the clay took shape to the size.

“Cold.” Tom commented in discomfort.

“I know.” You released your grip on his calf, looking up at him with a sheepish smile. “All part of the process, but good news for you- you’re done for the night.”

“Really?” Tom raised his eyebrows. “That’s it?”

You nodded, standing back up to normal height. “I’m experienced enough to sculpt the feet and legs tonight.”

“When should I come back?” He sounded a tad too eager, but it caused your smile to reappear.

“Tomorrow night if you’re available.”

“And maybe next time you can bring your own alcohol?” You gestured to the multiple beer cans poking out of the recycling bin.

The man flashed you a smile. “Sounds like a date.”

“It’s definitely not.”

Despite your rejection to his amusing advances, Tom’s expressions and mannerisms remained hopeful. Was it possible he was truly enjoying himself?

“I’ll leave my robe here. I’ll see you tomorrow at the same time?”

“Same time.” You confirmed, nodding him off. It was about time you started to really focus. Attractive man or not, you always got the most and best work done alone.

Because after the first night, the dynamics between you and Tom changed. He became incredibly invested in your process, asking you questions left and right, asking if there was any way he could help, and practically just lounging next to you hours after he would have been free to go.

“What do your sculptures usually look like?”

“Since this isn’t my own studio, I don’t have any of my pieces here. But I can show you a picture when I get my hands wiped off.”

“What do you build your sculptures with? It’s hard to imagine that a replica of me can come out of that much clay.”

“My sculptures are built with water-based clay and are fired in a gas kiln to cone 4, about 2150 degrees Fahrenheit… “ You nodded towards the back wall that had an installed kiln for you and everyone to share. “Trust me, there will be a lot more clay. Hundreds of pounds worth.”

“Can I help?”

“No.”

There was no lying that you enjoyed his presence. Whether he was talking your ear off or napping to the peaceful beat of your jazz music, there was never a dull moment when Tom was in your studio.

Weeks passed, and so did the process. Your sculpture of Tom had progressed to week three, and that’s when you started to grow nervous. When you finished, which you were almost done, would you ever see him again?

You had barreled through the awkwardness of replicating his genitals and chiseling his six pack perfectly into the hardening clay- but you still felt like something was missing. You knew even when you finished chiseling away his jaw line and chocolate brown eyes, there would still be something missing. Him. His presence.

Maybe it would have been better if you partnered up with a man that had zero personality.

Since it was just you and Tom for hours on end, your conversations gradually grew deeper, they stretched into new lengths, so much so that you eventually felt like you had known him for years.

When Tom claimed he wasn’t looking for a relationship, you felt your heart fall. That’s when you realized you were developing stronger feelings for your model. You hardly had time to think about trivial things like that, but you couldn’t deny your disappointment.

And you were sure he saw the brief tears glossing over your eyes when you turned away. Yet, he didn’t make light of it.

That’s when you knew it was useless.

It seemed useless until the sixth week, when you finally finished the head. You were too afraid to attach it. Tom had spent the last couple hours with you in the studio. His legs kicked back and occasional whistles streaming from his lips. He had practically memorized your playlist to the extent you had.

“Tom.” You called. “Your face is done.”

He cheered excitedly, pushing himself off the sofa and racing towards you. Tom had learned to give you your space while you worked, but in moments where you summoned him, he barely stood inches from you. The man would constantly touch you in ways you couldn’t deny sent shivers down your spine.

Like he did as he rounded the tabletop, planting himself by your side and placing his hand on the low of your back. As if it was natural.

“Wow,” He breathed. “Y/N,” Your name upon his lips sounded as blissful as the music. “It’s.. it’s wonderful. It looks just like me... wow that’s scary.”

“I’m happy you like it.” You bit your lip, wishing you felt more satisfied with your project. You wanted to impress him, but you didn’t want him to go.

“All I have to do is attach the head, and fire it up in the furnace one more time. Then it should be good to go.”

You moved to do so, wanting to remove yourself from his grip. It hurt your heart to know the bond you had formed with him would come to an end. Why did you even let yourself get to this point? Was it because he was good at flirting?

“Wait-” His sentence faltered when you whipped around to face him- looking somewhat hopeful.

“What?”

Tom paused, his throat tightening with the words he never thought he would admit. But he couldn’t leave tonight with at least trying. He needed to know how you felt. Because he could either leave with you in his arms, or he could leave never having to see you again.

He had been thinking of confessing to you for days now, but now that the time came, his mind was blank. “You really are beautiful, you know that right?”

“Why do you feel the need to flatter me?” You blurted, still unable to decipher the truth behind his words. You didn’t know how to accept such a compliment. Tom had claimed you were beautiful before, but this time it felt different.

His eyes spoke volumes. The beauty his eyes held was something you would never be able to replicate in a statue. It was a sight you found yourself never growing sick of.

Averting your eyes, you tried to move again. Yet this time, Tom gripped onto both of your arms.

“Look at me.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“I won’t let you play me.”

“I was never playing you, darling.” The tenderheartedness intertwined with his words caused you to slowly turn your head back. Your lip quivered, and suddenly you felt like a schoolgirl all over again. You felt childish and unprepared for the intensity of your emotions.

“I don’t want to leave tonight without knowing if you feel the same.”

You blinked, hand reaching out to grip onto his. “And that is?” 

“I don’t know if it’s love, but it could be.” 

“That’s all I needed to hear.” You said, incredibly softly. 

Tom released your arms. And before either of you could process what to do next, your lips interlocked. 

You gripped onto him tightly, balling his white t shirt into a fist to keep him from leaving your side again. 

“Tom-” You breathed. 

The kiss you shared was laced with a fervent need, one that you had never experienced before, and one that you craved again and again. 

After the passion you felt, the skin prickling desire, there would be no turning back. 

“Fuck, you’re everything”’ He mumbled against your lips. 

You pulled back slightly to gaze at his expression. He had looked so afraid before, but now he was smiling from ear to ear. Much like he did the day he arrived with a teasing attitude, ready to get under your skin and provide entertainment. 

“How long have you felt like this?” 

“Since the first day.” He kissed you again, his hands cupping your cheeks. 

You whimpered against his muscular frame, trying to ignore the fluttering in your core, fluttering that begged and craved for more. 

“How did you wait so long?” 

“I wanted you to finish.” 

You chuckled, cheesing at his straightforward, simple reply. 

You were positive from that moment moving on, that Tom was not what you had thought at first glance. This entire time he had put you and your project first, letting his own desires sit and warm on the back-burner. That was something you would hold close to your heart, something you would cherish. 

He cared for you in the same way you cared for him. 

“Stay with me tonight, Tom.” 

“I would love nothing more.” 

[media-on-the-mind101]

Turtles All the Way Down: OCD and Generalized Anxiety Disorder (Book)

* May contain spoilers*

I recently finished reading Turtles All the Way Down by John Green, and it is now one of my favorite novels. The story hit me close to home because it deals with a disorder that I was diagnosed with. I thought writing an article about it would be a good way to educate you readers, while also sharing a little bit about myself.

Turtles All the Way Down is story about a teenage girl named Aza Holmes who suffers from OCD or Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. The story shows how the disorder impacts her daily life as well as her relationships. Because the author suffers from the disorder in real life, the depiction is fairly accurate. However, I spotted a few things that might suggest a whole different diagnosis whatsoever. The story also covers Aza’s treatment which I felt was missing a lot of important things.

According to the DSM 5 (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders) Obsessive Compulsive Disorder is a disorder where a person gets caught in a cycle of obsessions and compulsions. Obsessions are intrusive thoughts that trigger distressing feelings, while compulsions are repetitive behaviors that are performed to relieve anxiety or prevent something bad from happening. OCD is often confused with OCPD (Obsessive Compulsive Personality Disorder) which is characterized by extreme perfectionism, order, and neatness. OCPD is often portrayed as OCD in the media which means that stereotypical OCD is really OCPD.

While Aza does have obsessions that involve cleaning, they are more about health and less about being organized. People with OCD often have a specific thing they worry about, and for Aza it is contracting an infection from a parasite called C-diff which essentially causes food poisoning and stomach damage. While she doesn’t really do anything to neutralize or cancel her thoughts out, she repeatedly reads articles online and uses hand sanitizer to relieve her anxiety.

As you may already have figured out, people with OCD often have illogical thought patterns and they are fully aware of it. But their anxiety makes them perform their compulsion anyway “just to make sure.” This is seen in the book when Aza drinks a bottle of hand sanitizer to insure that all bad bacteria inside her body are cured. Of course we all know, that drinking hand sanitizer would actually be more harmful then helpful.

“Drinking hand sanitizer is not going to make you healthier, you crazy fuck. But they can talk to your brain. THEY can tell your brain what to think, and you can’t. So, who’s running the show? Stop it, please (pg. 210).

In this scene, Aza knows that drinking hand sanitizer is actually more harmful then helpful, but she feels as if something is controlling her brain. The “they” refers to her OCD and she tells it to stop but isn’t able to control it.

While reading the book, I noticed that some of Aza’s symptoms don’t quite fit the diagnosis of OCD, such as her feeling of not knowing if she is awake or dreaming, real or non-existent. In one chapter she says the following:

“the pressing of my thumbnail against my fingertip had started off as a way of convincing myself that I was real . . . every time I thought maybe I wasn’t real, I would dig my nail into my fingertip, and I would feel the pain, and for a second I’d think, Of course I’m real” (pg.106).

The feeling of disconnect she has from her own body and surroundings are actually symptoms of DDD (Depersonalization - Derealization Disorder). According to the DSM, the disorder is characterized by persistent feelings of being a stranger to yourself or your surroundings. According to Psychology Today, however, you have to have no signs of other mental illness that can explain your symptoms, in order to be diagnosed with DDD. This is when diagnosing a patient becomes challenging; so many disorders can have similar symptoms or be co-morbid with each other that it they can difficult to differentiate.

The other symptom I noticed that is actually its own disorder, is the fact that Aza has a habit of digging her nail into her fingertip to the point where her finger becomes scarred. While picking of the skin is often comorbid with OCD, it is actually a separate disorder called excoriation disorder or dermatillomania. According to mhanational.org, this disorder is characterized by picking of the skin that creates skin lesions and that causes disruption in everyday life. It is true that the disorder falls under the category of obsessive compulsive disorders in the DSM, but excoriation disorder is not the same as OCD.

Now we’ve defined what OCD is, but another important part of how the book portrays it is in the treatment. According to Mayoclinic.com, the most common treatments for OCD include CBT (Cognitive Behavioral Therapy), exposure therapy, and medications such as SSRIs (Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitors). These are the treatments that I had during my childhood, and they have been statistically proven to be very effective. 

In the book Aza sees a therapist and takes medication, but she doesn’t get exposure therapy, one of the main treatments for OCD. Aza mainly gets CBT which is essentially talk therapy, but she is not forced to face her obsessions without performing her compulsions. An example of this would be touching a dirty substance and then forcing herself not to take out her phone or use hand sanitizer. 

The last important thing is how OCD effects a peoples relationships. Throughout the story, the characters in Aza’s life talk about how hard she is to deal with. One scene toward the end really emphasizes the importance of this issue. In this scene, Aza and her best friend Daisy get into an argument because Daisy feels that Aza is too self-centered.

She says “and you’re so, like, pathologically uncurious that you don’t even know what you don’t know.” And later she adds “I don’t mean that you’re a bad friend or anything. But you’re slightly tortured, and the way you’re tortured is sometimes also painful for, like, everyone around you”(pg. 216).

Daisy is frustrated because she feels like Aza is so caught up in her own thoughts that she never shows any interest in the lives of others. When she says Aza is “tortured” and it makes it painful for everyone around her, this shows just how much her illness impacts her relationships with other people. Basically, people find her difficult to be around because they, in a sense, have to experience everything with her and they begin to lose patience. At the end of this scene, the two girls get into a car accident because they weren’t paying attention to the road.

Aza’s other important relationship in the story is with is Davis, who is like a friend with benefits. The reason he never becomes Aza’s boyfriend is because of her social anxiety and fear of contamination that prevents her from being physically close to people. 

“I enjoyed being with him more in this nonphysical space, but I also felt the need to board up the windows of myself. Me: I feel kinda precarious in general, and I can’t really date you. Or date anyone. I’m sorry but I can’t. I like you, but I can’t date you” (pg. 162).

I this scene, Aza reveals that she communicates better online then in person and this suggests that she has some form of social anxiety.

Another scene tells us just how much her fear of germs effects her life: “billions of people kiss and don’t die just make sure his microbes aren’t going to permanently colonize you come on please stop this . . . then you’ll get C. diff and boom dead in four days please fucking stop just kiss him JUST CHECK TO MAKE SURE. I pulled away” (pg. 152).

In this scene, Aza has difficulty being physically intimate with Davis because her fear of germs prevents from enjoying it like most people would. Based on this fact, we could predict that Aza will have difficulty in her future relationships because of her mental illness and this is a great example of how it effects people in real life.

As I mentioned in the beginning of this article, the author John Green himself suffers from OCD. Compared to his own experiences, the book is pretty similar. Like the main character, Green suffers from obsessions about contamination. In an episode of the Vlogbrothers Youtube channel, Green explains that

 “I might worry out of nowhere that my food is contaminated or somehow poisoned and then somehow suddenly that will be the only thought I'm able to think . . . I can lose all control over my thoughts for an extended period of time to the extent that I can't follow what's happening in a TV show or read a book.” (Green).

*John Green, author of Turtles All the Way Down*

So like Aza, he worries about contamination to the point where he can’t focus on anything else. He also has the same kinds of thought spirals :  

“the compulsive behaviors I use to cope with these obsessive thought spirals, repeatedly checking my food for contamination, for instance, or spending hours Googling what will happen to me if I eat moldy bread.” (Green).

As you can see, the characters compulsion of checking in internet comes straight from the author’s real life experience. According to the New York Times, John Green developed the disorder at around seven years old and eventually got it under control with the right medication and CBT. It was not said weather or not he underwent exposure therapy. So the treatment that Aza receives is based on the way some treatments work in real life.

While reading Turtles All the Way Down I  often found myself feeling nostalgic because my own experience with OCD is very similar. Although I do not have an obsession with a specific thing like Aza does, I have the same types of intrusive thoughts. I also have similar compulsions to seek reassurance from the internet or other people about my health, as well as other compulsions to neutralize, or cancel out my thoughts. 

Because I had Tourette Syndrome (a neurological disorder that causes physical impulses) as a child, I developed what is called Tourettic OCD. It is pretty much exactly what it sounds like; Tourette Syndrome and OCD combined. The reason this occurs in some individuals is because the ability to filter out and thoughts and the impulse to move, take place in the same brain area, the basal ganglia. As a result of this, my compulsions tend to be more physical, such as moving my eyes excessively whenever I see negative words in a book, or someone getting sick in a movie.

Like Aza, I went through CBT but I also went through several years of exposure therapy and I take an SSRI in conjunction. I think exposure therapy is a very important part of the treatment of disorders such as OCD and PTSD and I was disappointed that the book did not include it. I think that if you are going to educate a person about disorder, then you have to educate them about the treatment as well. In conclusion, Turtles All the Way Down was a great novel that captured OCD more accurately then any movie I have seen. The fact that the author has the disorder makes it all the more realistic and personal, and I have to say as a person with OCD and a psychology major, I was quite pleased with the way the character was portrayed. The story may have been missing a few important elements but overall it provided a realistic way of educating people about the disorder.

[duker42]

I really love the experiment fic! How about a follow up where after Levi gets his s/o to a save place and treats her wounds, she sees the needle marks on his arms and feels so guilty. He tells her it wasnt her fault but she still kisses each of the mark. At night, they watch the stars together n she got all excited telling him the diff constellations and he was happy roo :33

💜The Experiment Part 2💜

Escaping the facility was a blur to Y/N. She was slipping in and out of consciousness as the pain overwhelmed her. She wasn’t as strong as Levi it seemed. She had a haze recollection of being carried through the dank halls and being put into a car before passing out again.

When she came to, they were in a house. She could tell that it had been abandoned, but was surprisingly clean. Glancing around the room, she saw Levi watching her from his spot beside the bed she was laying in.

She noticed that some of her wounds had already been treated, but he shuffled closer and grabbed the medical kit that was next to him. His hands were gentle as he moved her arm closer, allowing him to clean the cuts and bandage them properly now that they had stopped bleeding.

He was wearing different clothes, his hair damp from where he had obviously washed up. His muscular frame was highlighted but the tighter t-shirt and jeans he was wearing, but it also showed every needle mark and bruise in his arms.

Y/N winced as she was slapped with the reminder that she had helped hurt this man. The one that was currently helping her. The discolored flesh and small pinpricks made him look like a drug addict, which was far from the truth.

“I’m so sorry, Levi.” Y/N rasped as she looked down at his arms.

Levi looked up from where he was cleaning a small cut to frown at her. “Don’t worry about that. You had no choice but to experiment on me. You think they would have just let you go and quit? You would have been killed to keep silent.”

Y/N looked startled at his words. It was true, her pink slip would have come in the form of a bullet. But she still felt guilty for her part in his months of suffering.

She took his hands, pausing his work as she brought his arm closer to her face. She pressed her lips gently against the marks on his flesh. She made sure she kissed every puncture wound, every bruise on his skin.

His eyes were heavy lidded, his expression unreadable as he watched her. Levi kept his gaze on her as she finished up and pursed his lips when he pulled back to continue cleaning her up.

She flushed a bit as he finished up, his touch lingering slightly as he stroked her skin gently.

She drifted back off to sleep under his touch. She missed the way that his eyes softened as he watched her close her eyes. Levi stayed beside her for far longer that he should have, despite needing to clean up and check to make sure that they weren’t followed.

Later that night, Y/N woke up again, feeling better than before. She convinced Levi to let her get up, and take her outside. She brought a blanket and spread it out in the tall grass of the back yard.

She pulled him down beside her and laid back, gazing up at the star filled brilliance of the night’s sky. She pointed out different constellations that she knew, telling Levi the myths behind the formations.

Y/N smiled as she listened to him scoff as he repressed his own grin at her tale of lovers and romance at the different stories she was telling. He was enjoying her telling him the stories as much as she was enjoying telling him.

Levi felt her snuggle up against him as she pointed to another constellation group. He breathed in and closed his eyes, listening to her voice as her scent washed over him. For the moment, the world was perfect. Y/N was with him, feeling the same way about him as he did her. They were safe and able to enjoy small things like a regular couple. He felt like just a man, laying on a blanket with his love rather than an experiment and a man on the run.

Mobile MasterList

[truthaliar]

aiiiiiiight so here’s a post about mental health representation in media; or in other words: my mental health and apparently, the umbrella academy.

ps i am in no way, shape or form a mental health professional - this is just retelling an experience i had

sooo okay i was talking to my therapist. i’m gonna paraphrase this but basically she was like ‘do you watch umbrella academy’ and i was like ‘yea my friends are trying to figure out who is who in my friend group’ and it basically went ‘oh did they put you as diego? good, let’s talk about your hero complex.’ 

now to clarify i’m not typically like super open about it, but i have ptsd & anxiety. my panic disorder is mostly controlled at this point (ie i can now pinpoint triggers). a few weeks ago i finally told my mom i had ptsd after several years and she just responded, ‘i know.’

anyway, i ended up learning that there’s peer reviewed articles about umbrella academy in psychiatric journals, highlighting the show’s potential as a mental health tool. also i never really saw myself in any of tua characters but vaguely recognized my obsession w/ justice in diego, and also saw myself in five’s caffeine addiction. so the fact that a medical person... saw diego - weirds me out a little. more on that in a sec.

so my therapist, i guess let’s call her fran, said that diego’s behavior & habits are tied to his inability to introspect and manage his own emotions so he externalizes & fixates on justice, this external thing that has clear, logical right & wrong, something that he can take into his own hands bc he feels that the system is broken. it’s easier for him to focus on that than on fixing himself.

to be clear she said it’s fairly common for ppl in diff branches of medicine to feel this way to a degree; you’re trained to be more detached from your emotions so it’s not unusual to (slightly-moderately) go either the diego route or the luther route if you begin to lose it (and hopefully not the five route cuz that’s a whole diff story). of course these are extremes (and she said i have parallels to diego, not that i have anywhere near his level of hero complex)

even still when she said that -- it hit different. like when my friends cast each other, it’s something we’ve been doing for years right? it’s just fun, and yea you often poke fun at yourself/each other in the process -- but it’s not the same as a professional saying ‘look at this extreme characterization of what could happen if you don’t take a step back‘. honestly my response was, ‘wow that doesn’t seem healthy.’

so the diego route is feeling like the system has failed you. therefore you want to act against or destroy the system that let you down, that didn’t care about you, that didn’t nurture you, and build something better -- on your own because the whole damn thing is unjust and it isn’t fair. the emotion you use to cope with is anger. and to build a new system you need people to back you. to get people to back you, you need to save them. kill the system, fix the broken. you might think you’re doing it on your own, but your success is still contingent on there being problems to solve.

the luther route -- based on my understanding bc she didn’t think i did this -- is more adhering yourself to the system and saying ‘good or bad, it’s by wedding myself to the system through which i will succeed, and i must be important because the system let me in to begin with.’

ofc any person can begin to display traits of any of those characters or of multiple characters, and to repeat they’re all in rough shape. and just bc she implied those are the two fairly common ways to feel in doesn’t mean you can’t be a klaus or a vanya or an allison or whoever you see similarities with.. like that’s the point. everyone responds to trauma differently. and it’s also a one-size fits all. she didn’t mean to and i do not mean to represent the siblings as perfect representations -- only that it does happen to match my behavior.

fran told me that to snap out of the hero complex, at least sometimes, you have to be able to separate yourself from the injustice that surrounds you n understand that people aren’t helpless and you are not here to save everyone. bc first of all - that’s a lot of fuckin’ work and second of all - that’s kinda rude to assume that people can’t fix their own problems. and unless they ask us for help, it’s our job to let them. after all, i’d be pissed if someone thought i needed saving.

so then comes the part i struggle with which is detaching yourself from the work you inevitably choose that focuses on solving problems. i’m shit at it; i’m always fucking problem-solving. i can’t turn it off. i can’t make it stop. and it carries over from my youth bc i felt like i was the only person that could see the solutions to the very real problems in my life. like diego, i’d zoom in and fixate (helloooo jfk plotline) and try to do something about it. turns out i got pretty good at this, and that spurred my career path. i never wanted to see myself as the victim. ever. even after i endured certain traumas that i don’t want to disclose. in my mind, i was never broken. the situations were just injust; and i couldn’t fix... the people, but maybe i could fix the situations.

so what did justice look like to me? i love my family, so i mostly focused on my career - something i could undoubtedly shape on my own. developed a list of people whose jobs i wanted to steal. out of revenge, feeling i could bring justice to the field by bringing my mindset to the table. sound vaguely familiar?

also probably not the healthiest fictional character to relate to. worse still, even arya was able to let go of her vindictive streak at the end of the day (at least in the show) -- something i am still working on. (also probably a good time for a reminder that the plan is to get good enough in my field to ‘steal jobs’ so that i can mold the field into what i want it to be, not actually physically hurt people). i did take up fencing tho.

soooo now it’s 2020. and i’m 28. and something important happened.

i was talking with my mentor and as we were chatting i realized that there is a job out there that i want. and not because i want to steal it out of a sense of ‘revenge’ -- but because i really like that person’s job. that i could see myself in that position because i love what it entails. and i think it’s the first time i ever saw that.

in eight months of constant therapy, i’ve realized that i do have a dream vet school; i do have a dream job; that my life is more than just trying to fix the world.

complexes don’t go away overnight and i kept things purposely vague - i’ll always have a little bit of ‘save the world’ in me.

but i can now say that tech school finishes in 10 months. it’ll be over in less than a year. i submit my vet school app in a week, with a much more refined & steady focus. i’m kind of ready to pursue happiness again. i’m much more confident that i’ll get where i want to be.

and whatever ya know? i’ll figure it out as i go

but tada there’s the story of my therapist seeing me in diego hargreeves, what the fuck.

[missguomeiyun]

Homecookings [June ed.]

Remember this from wayyyyy back when in April?

This was my 1st batch of radish kimchi, & it has been fermenting for over a month!

The brine is so dark now! Looking sooooo good :D haha the taste was great! After >1 month, this really tastes like the ones from Korea! SUCCESSSSSSS! Out of the 3 jars, this jar was my favourite!

Breakfast on a day off! First, microwave some frozen Costco fries till they become a little soft. Pour some into a frying pan, squeeze a little bit of water (so it heats up faster), cover & cook on medium heat for 2-3mins. When you open lid, you’ll notice the bottom of the pan looks kinda “gross” bcos the oil from the fries is mixed with the added water. At this time, crack an egg (or two!). Move the raw egg around so that it touches all the fries before it gets all cooked. The goal is to use the egg to connect all/most of the fries. Add whatever cheese you want (I used gouda Kraft singles & a marble cheesestring). Finish with some fresh ground pepper + garlic powder!

*tears* my last Twilight Delight............ Does anyone know if/where I can find this in Edmonton?!

Corn fritters! I always get the corn fritters from Seoul Fried Chicken (you get to choose your sides when you order the 5-piece combo), but I made my own! Doesn’t taste the same but I was super satisfied! I used a combo of tempura mix + flour, with frozen corn, furikake, & salt. YUM!

Shrimp with.. .tea. I tried to re-create “Longjing prawns”, a famous dish from a Chinese city called HangZhou. You can look up how it’s cooked, what it’s supposed to look like etc. I used green tea powder + medium-sized shrimp. Since this was a failed attempt, I’m not gonna tell how I made it lollll. BUT what I CAN say is.. . even though it was a failed attempt at the dish, the product was not bad. The flavour of tea on shrimp was definitely not a common thing; I actually don’t find it weird nor disgusting. The look could be improved but I didn’t know the green tea powder would come out so dark =O

A kimchi jjigae that was too spicy for my palette - made by me lol! This kimchi jjigae was vegetarian: I used napa cabbage, mushrooms, & tofu. Kimchi, kimchi juice, & also rinsed out a cayenne pepper jar. My mom was cleaning spice jars & containers that day, & the cayenne pepper in the jar was stuck to the bottom of the jar (moisture likely got in & the cayenne pepper has been around for a long time) - so I added hot water & rinsed it out. It made my kimchi jjigae so spicy!

Kimchi pancakes =D I had some evening shifts this month so this was a good snack (~10pm) / breakfast the next day. Hmm I wonder if it’s possible to make a big batch of these & then freeze them.. . so then I could just microwave it when I wanna eat them.

Korean-style lettuce wraps using fish cake from my fish cake soup ^^

A Western meal~ Gravy, mashed potato, beef, & bread!

Used leftover beef from above for instant noodles. The greens on the bottom are from the big clamshell container of mixed greens purchased from Costco. The thing with salads is that.. . you feel/think like you have so much but then you start eating, you realize you don’t actually have that much. In this case, I thought I had a lot of greens, but then I added the instant noodles on, then later the broth. .. the level of leaves just went flat lol I had to wash/add more later.

2nd box of this product - I really liked this so I got it again!

You can read about my 1st cooking experience with it here: https://missguomeiyun.tumblr.com/post/612980412153823233/vegan-quinoa-paella

In response to that post above^ , I used the other servings for something similar (basically the paella with a stir-fry).

I did something slightly diff this time around; I undercooked the paella in a pot, then cooked it together with cherry tomatoes, corn, & cucumber. When it was ready, I tossed in chicken fingers (pre-baked), & added some shrimps. I preferred this over the paella + separate stir-fry. Having the textures of the tomatoes, corn, & cucumber in the mix was more interesting.

Didn’t do much cooking in June, I know.. . will step up my game in the next month!

[rhosinthorn]

Pumpkin Spice and Everything Nice?

‘I’m on a mission to find the best tasting pumpkin spice latte, want to join me?’

Sakura was rounding the corner of the student union when she heard the yelling.

“I’m on a mission to find the best tasting pumpkin spice latte!” a familiar looking upperclassmen was shouting from atop the chair dragged into the middle of the student union’s porch as others shuffled by as quickly as they could, averting their eyes. “Who wants to join me?”

Next to her, Sasuke hunched down even further in his sweatshirt, as if he was trying to disappear, tugging his hood up to cover his hair. “Why is it always me?” he groaned.

Snagging his sleeve before he could teleport away the way he always did when faced with uncomfortable situations, Sakura tugged him forward. “Come on grump,” she teased, heading for the doors of the student union. “You’ll be better once you’ve got some food in you.”

They had almost made it to the door when their luck ran out.

“Sasu-cakes!” Shisui crowed, abandoning his previous post in the center of the porch in favor of an easy victim. “I have a task for you!”

“No. No way, I have class.” Sasuke’s eyes were slightly wild, and his nervous twitch was back. Sakura had thought he had been trained out of it, but apparently one encounter with his cousin was enough to bring it back. “Find some other poor soul to be your victim.”

“But my little duckling,” Shisui wailed, draping himself all over his younger cousin, who froze immediately. “I need a buddy, and Itachi’s in class.”

“No.”

Before Shisui could throw a tantrum worthy of a three year old (Sakura knew he’d do it, she’d seen it before), Sakura intervened. “I’m free for the afternoon, so I’ll go with you,” she offered, conveniently leaving out the midterm she had the next day that she probably should be studying for. “Where do we start?”

“Here!” Shisui perked up immediately, abandoning Sasuke in favor of looping his arm through hers. “We’re starting with the Pit, and working our way around campus to finally finish up back here at Starbucks.”

Sasuke’s teeth grinding was almost audible as the trio made their way into the building.

He was still grinding his teeth as Shisui lounged in the chair next to him, rhapsodizing about the pumpkin spiced coffee clutched in his hand. Honestly, the elder Uchiha could put wine connoisseurs to shame, the way he talked about depth of flavor and notes...Sakura was almost impressed.

She’d be more impressed if she wasn’t constantly feeding Sasuke fresh chopsticks because he kept breaking them in irritation. Although, considering Shisui had been provoking him throughout the ten minutes they’d been seated, she was amazed those chopsticks hadn’t been used to stab someone.

Under the cover of the table, Sakura slid her phone out of her pocket and sent off a quick text.

[dr haruno] send sos 2 hot topic

[dr haruno] b4 he murders hamlet

It only took a quick second for it to vibrate in her hand, and she grinned as she saw the response.

[darwin award] kk

[darwin award] jailbreak 2 hard 2 arrange 2day

Half a second later, Sasuke’s phone, in clear display on the table, vibrated, and he lunged for it like a dying man to a life preserver.

“The idiot’s panicking over his calc exam,” he announced, already slamming the lid on his half-eaten fake chinese food and picking up his backpack. “I need to go rescue him before he jumps into the river.”

It wasn’t the best excuse either of them had ever come up with, but it worked. Before Shisui could really protest, Sakura was gathering her own garbage and motioning to Shisui. “Let’s head for the cafe in the library,” she suggested as Sasuke made his rapid exit. “I think they’ve got coffee and lattes, and I’ve been meaning to try their pumpkin chocolate chip bread.”

Obediently, Shisui allowed himself to be led away. “You made notes about what I was saying though, right?”

“Of course. What type of experiment would this be if it wasn’t properly recorded?”

The tables in the tiny cafe in the main library were crammed full of students panicking over midterms, so Shisui’s analysis of the coffee and latte that he had collected was witnessed by the crowd of desperate students filling the all-hours study space across from it.

On his thirteenth minute of lecturing, Sakura cast a wary glance at the students occupying the table across from them, several of whom looked suspiciously wired and as if they hadn’t left that table for three days, given the clutter, general unwashed appearance, and overall demeanor of a cornered wild animal. Given that they seemed about ready to let loose a hail of assorted school supplies if Shisui didn’t shut up, she escorted him quickly to the next location. Her biology professor was a hard-ass who would require her death certificate to allow her to retake the exam, and unfortunately, whatever the crazed students might do, it was improbable that they would manage homicide.

The cafe in the engineering building was much more secluded; most of the students cloistered in the adjacent computer labs with headphones, easily-portable snacks, and their own coffee makers in the room with them. Shisui was able to wax poetic about his latte in peace, as Sakura munched through her second slice of pumpkin-chocolate chip bread and made notes on Shisui’s oration while simultaneously running through her flashcards.

That is, until Shisui realized that he did not have her full attention and draped himself across her lap.

Startling in surprise, Sakura dropped her flashcards on his face, which was suddenly in her lap. The rest of him was sprawled out across the rest of the battered couch they had been sharing, and his latte had been set on the table in front of them. He was lucky that her legs, with her feet also on the table, had been pinned, so her reflexive twitch at finding him well inside her personal space hadn’t sent the drink flying.

“Sa-ku-ra,” he said, voice stretching out in a sing-song across the syllables of her name. “Are you paying attention to me?”

“You just said that this had less pumpkin and more cinnamon than the one at the library, but much less nutmeg than the one in the Pit, which is good because that one tasted like someone had dropped a bucket full of nutmeg in the coffee,” she recited dutifully, retrieving her flashcards. “See, I was listening.”

“But you were looking at something else,” Shisui wiggled as he whined, shifting his head to a more comfortable position on her thighs and relieving some of the pressure from where his shoulders had previously been. “I thought you liked spending time with me?”

The pout that followed should have been illegal for a fully grown twenty-something.

“Shisui,” Sakura began, trying to muster her resistance. “I do have an exam tomorrow, and as you can see, I am capable of multitasking.”

“But Sa-ku-ra,” he whined, commandeering her hand and placing it on his head. Obligingly, she ran her fingers through his hair. “I thought you wanted to spend time with me…”

Just then his phone beeped, and Sakura caught a glimpse of the screen as he pulled it out of his pocket.

[weasel] How’s your grand plan going? Has she hit you with anything yet?

Raising her eyebrow, Sakura glanced down at the Uchiha in her lap, who she was gratified to see looked somewhat sheepish.

“Tell him about the flashcards,” she recommended dryly, lifting his upper body just enough so that she could slip out from underneath him. “See if that gets you any sympathy. Ready to finish up at Starbucks?”

She should have expected that Starbucks would be the second most-crowded place on campus, given the proximity to midterms, but it at least allowed her to claim a comfortable armchair and keep an eye on the adjacent one while making Shisui wait in the line from hell. Spotting him sandwiched between a pair of sorority girls, who were busy making eyes at him and the frat boys in front of him, she delighted in the anguished look on his face.

Usually, he was probably one of the smoothest talkers on campus, able to charm, flatter, and cajole his way through any situation.

Stuck listening to trivial bullshit like the snippets she could hear, he seemed to be going slowly insane.

Serves him right, she thought with a smirk, reaching for her phone. Snapping a discreet shot of Shisui, she dropped it in the group chat she shared with her two best friends.

[dr haruno] <picture>

It only took a minute for Naruto to send back the picture, now covered in enough pastel hearts that it wouldn’t look out of place in a middle school girl’s locker. Sasuke’s response was a significantly subtler thumbs up.

[Hot Topic] y r u still there

[Hot Topic] u can run away

[Hot Topic] nobody would blame u

Before she could respond back, Naruto was back.

[darwin award] y u  make out w/hamlet

Glowering, Sakura punched out her response, unaware that the poor grad student who usually got stuck teaching her biology class was slowly backing away from the empty seat next to her, coffee clutched in his shaking hand.

[dr haruno] wtf

[dr haruno] i was not!!!

[dr haruno] who tf said i was????

Another chat notification popped up. Normally she had the notifications for the group chat from her dorm muted, but they had been organizing a movie night for yesterday so she had unmuted them. Opening the chat to mute it, she clenched her phone so hard she was certain the case was going to leave imprints on her skin.

[ramen king] <picture>

[ramen king] see

[ramen king] pictures don’t lie

[ramen king] u were totally making out w/hamlet

The picture was a grainy shot from somewhere behind the couch she had occupied at the coffee shop in the engineering building, taken probably as Shisui was busy flopping onto her lap. From the angle and the bad camera quality, it did sort of look as if there was something going on between them.

Before she could respond back to Naruto in either chat, the dorm chat exploded.

[k9 king] whoa sakura

[k9 king] u move fast

[k9 king] <picture>

This time it was another picture, taken moments later and from a different angle, showing Shisui’s head in her lap, turned towards her.

[bombshell] y didn’t u tell me?

[bombshell] he’s hot

[bombshell] + y r u letting him put his head in ur lap like that

Notifications for her private chat with Ino started going off as well, but Sakura was too distracted trying to put out the fire in the group chat to deal with her roommate.

[YOUTH!!!] y not me????

[YOUTH!!!] i was going 2 bring u flowers

[Hyuuga Neji] Shut up Lee.

[Hyuuga Neji] She’s been trying to politely refuse since you met.

[cinnamon roll] Neji! Be nice!

[mulan] stfu both of u. w2g S

[bombshell] do u think he would set me up w/his cousin?

[bombshell] either 1

[bombshell] we could double?

[mothman] You should shut up now Kiba. You might need to leave the country.

[firecracker] back off bitch, sasuke’s spoken for

Movement next to her drew her attention away from the shitstorm that Naruto had caused by not paying attention to which chat was open, and Sakura scowled as she saw the spare seat she had been saving be taken by a pair of frankly terrifying graduate students, one of who seemed to be currently sporting stitches. Deciding that discretion was the better part of valor in that case, she turned to look for another pair of empty seats.

“Hey, I brought your lemon loaf and tea,” Shisui announced as she was half-standing, eyeing a pair of chairs that were about to open. “Thanks for saving the seats.”

Before she knew it, he had set their drinks and food down, slid into the armchair she was attempting to vacate, and tugged her back onto his lap. Sakura squeaked in surprise, ashamed of the sound she made, and fell back into his chest as she lost her balance.

“Missed me that much?” Shisui teased gently, and popped a chunk of lemon loaf in her mouth when she opened it to respond. He was chewing on his own bite, she realized, and frowned at him around the lemon loaf.

“Taxes,” he replied as he swallowed. “Only fair. Now, onto the final test.”

Swallowing, Sakura grimaced as her phone blew up, vibrating so hard it fell off the arm of the chair and into the small space between them. Reaching for her tea, she took a sip, and then grabbed her phone, afraid of what she was going to find.

Shisui flinched as it vibrated again, spluttering on his coffee, but she ignored him as she scrolled past the argument over Sasuke that Ino was having with Naruto’s cousin, Lee’s wailing, Neji’s caustic put downs, Hinata’s pleas for peace...and then she found another picture.

[sharkboi] <picture>

[sharkboi] update: they’ve relocated to starbs

[sharkboi] + they’re cozy

[sharkboi] look @ the luv

[sharkboi] <picture>

[chef] did u kno that feeding the so w/the leftover half of a sweet sweetens the love?

[bombshell] <3

[mulan] <3

[cinnamon roll] <3

[k9 king] ur gross choji

[mothman] Shut up Kiba

[sharkboi] update

[sharkboi] totally just groped him in public

[sharkboi] <picture>

Her head shot up as she saw the blurry shot of her reaching for her phone, the actual action hidden by their bodies, only the suggestive trajectory of her hand remaining, enough to damn her in the chat.

[bombshell] getting frisky!

It only got worse after that, and Sakura closed her eyes and resolved to murder all of them at the earliest possible convenience.

“This one’s the winner,” Shisui declared, nodding to his latte. “Nothing can compete with the original.”

Caught completely off guard, Sakura stared at him wide-eyed until he indicated the drink. “Remember? The thing I’ve been dragging you around all afternoon for?”

His quest. “Right,” she said weakly, ignoring her phone as if vibrated furiously. “I’m glad you’ve figured it out.”

“Isn’t it grand?” Shisui declared, shoving another piece of lemon loaf into her mouth. “I had a lot of fun.”

“Sure,” Sakura scanned the crowded area, looking for Suigetsu. She may not be able to do anything about the pictures he’d already posted, but she could make sure he never would post again. “It was.”

She surprised herself by actually meaning it. Shisui had been...fun to be around. Not as crazy as she had remembered him being when they were all in high school, although Sasuke would probably disagree. They had spent a fun afternoon together, and the treats he bought her as bribes weren’t unwelcome either.

A phone beeped again, and he shot her an apologetic look as he jostled her getting it out of his pocket. There was a moment of silence, and then he whistled.

“Why did my cousin congratulate me on my first public groping?” he asked, and Sakura wanted to throw every single phone around them into the river.

“My hallmates are idiots,” she ground out from between gritted teeth. “And they’re all going to go home for winter break in matchboxes.”

“I think the kid over there with the white hair is spying on us,” Shisui said brightly, giving a wave. Sakura whipped about and made sure that the grin she shot Suigetsu was savage. The little shit was going to find out the hard way not to cross her.

“I’ll make sure he learns his lesson.”

“You really didn’t have to do this.”

“Of course I did,” Shisui protested, holding the door for her. “You kept me from being murdered by angry college students on three separate occasions. And don’t think I didn’t notice you letting Sasu-cakes escape by sacrificing yourself.”

“That’s what the pumpkin chocolate chip bread was for,” she pointed out, climbing the stairs to the fourth floor (what type of building has four floors, with wheelchair accessible bathrooms on the fourth floor, but no elevators? Really?) “And all of the other things I made you buy me.”

“Pfft,” the Uchiha flapped his hand at her. “Those were bribes to make you accurately record my notes on the lattes. Anyway, what kind of gentleman would I have been if I hadn’t seen you safely to your door?”

“The only dangerous thing in this dorm right now,” Sakura raised her voice so that anyone behind the closed doors would be sure to hear, “is me.”

Reaching her door at the end of the hall, she turned, key in the door, to look at Shisui. To her surprise, he was much closer than she expected, almost on top of her, a hungry look in his eyes.

“That was...far too attractive,” he mumbled, eyes fixed on her lips. “If you don’t want me to kiss you, speak now.”

Giving her a moment, he pressed forward, lips brushing hers. First gently, but then more insistently, caressing and coaxing her into willing participation. She had always known he was attractive, but had never figured he’d be interested in her, when he had his pick of the myriad of girls that surrounded him. After the disastrous crush on Sasuke that had thankfully subsided into unbreakable friendship, she had decided Uchiha’s were too much trouble to date, and instead worked on establishing an amicable working relationship with Shisui and Itachi, to make her life less boring when Naruto and Sasuke inevitably abandoned her during their squabbles.

Sakura found herself twining her hands in Shisui’s hair, the only Uchiha she knew that sported curls instead of the obnoxiously straight hair his cousins managed. As she tugged lightly on it, drawing him closer, he complied pressing her into the door as his hands came to rest on her hips.

In her pocket, her phone started vibrating again, but she was too busy kissing Shisui to care.

[hey-hey-chan]

Magic Shop - Minho

❀ Slight angst with some laughter 

❀ Warning: mentions of death/loss 

❀ Word count: 3.9K

❀ Working at your local cafe that’s always mistaken as a magic shop is quite tiresome. What happens when it’s more magical than you thought?

❀ A/N: Because i’ve been listening to Magic Shop so often ,, this idea just popped into my head I guess :// this is diff on how i imagined it but whatever that’s how life works. I actually wrote this cuz i was having a tough time and i just needed to relax and breathe. Take things slowly, the world is not as fast paced as you think and stay strong,, this was the point of this fic but it turned ,, idk man

beware i didnt proofread

“What do you mean you don’t sell magic tricks here?! I came all across town just to find something for my son! If-” I took a deep breath and gave the man a nice smile.

“I’m sorry sir, we don’t sell any magic toys or anything like that here. We’re just a cafe, I could get you a coffee-” Before I could finish, the man was waving his hands at me and stomping out of the door along with his clearly upset wife.

I took a deep sigh and returned to wipe down the tables. It was almost 10pm and the cafe was closing up in an hour, yet we barely got costumers around this time. 

I scrubbed the table harder, still upset about the event that just took place. I’d gotten similar angry people who had stormed into the cafe thinking it was some sort of magic shop. 

Ok, I guess I should’ve expected it before I applied for this job. I mean the name of the shop is called “Magic Shop”. I just assumed that people would look up what’s actually inside of the shop instead of barging in and demanding random knick knacks.

“I’m heading out first y/n, close up shop for me?” I nodded to the elderly man. 

“Yeah sure, have a nice night.” I said. He dipped his hat to me, walking slowly on his way out. For some reason, I got the courage to say “hey, what did you even name this cafe Magic Shop?” Once he turned around, I continued. “Everyone gets confused on the name anyways, wouldn’t it be easier to change?” I suggested. 

As always, the man gave me a small smile and shook his head. “I think the name of this place fits it. It’s quite magical. Magic comes to those who work here and believe int it.” Before I could ask more questions, the man said a quick “goodnight” before exiting quickly. I grumbled and returned to cleaning up shop. 

“Magical my ass. The only thing magic about here is how many people come in thinking we’re an actual magic shop without researching about it.” I whispered furiously to myself. 

As I was turned to walk to the employees room, I heard the familiar buzz which signaled that someone walked into the shop. I turned and saw a young couple walking towards me. 

Oh great, people. 

I gave them a quick fake smile and returned to the cash register. 

“Hi! Welcome to Magic Shop, what can I get for you two?” I asked nicely. The young man, about my age, smiled handsomely at me. 

“Hm, what do you want babe?” He asked to the other girl beside him. The pair looked like the perfect couple; she had light brown hair and was wearing a brown dress while the man was dressed in dark jeans and a button down. I wish I could have that once again. 

Suddenly, their perfect facade broke when the girl rolled her eyes. 

“Get me whatever.” She muttered. I almost cringed when she let go of his hand to fumble through her purse and pulled out her phone. 

I looked back at the boy and made awkward eye contact. I tried not to put judgement into my eyes but all he did was sigh.

“Um, how’s the tiramisu?” He asked looking through the clear glass. 

“The tiramisu? That’s actually my favorite, it’s SO good. Ours has a bit more rum in it than usual, but that’s personally how I like it.” I admit. He gave me a smile smirk and nodded.

“Wow, that’s cool ‘cause that’s the way I like it too. I get slightly irritated when there’s just too much coffee.” He distorted his face and shook his head. I laughed at his antics. 

“Great, so would you like that for here or to go?”

“To go please.” 

I nodded and reached into the glass to get a slice of cake. 

“AHEM!” I swear I almost bonked my head on the top of the shelf. I poked my head up and stood.

“Is there a-” 

“I can’t eat cake, I’m on a strict diet!” The girl cried out. I knew better than to get involved in relationship drama. Unfortunately, it happens a lot more often at cafes than one thinks. 

“Babe, c’mon, it’s one slice, that won’t do anything to you! Plus, you’re the one who didn’t want to choose the-”

The girl slammed her hand on the shelf, making it rattle. My eyes widened in shock.

“Stop that! You’re always taunting me and putting me down and I’m sick of it! Come back when you’re done eating your cake!” Then she turned her gaze towards me. “And when you’re done flirting with that stupid cashier!” The childish girl ran out of the cafe, taking her attitude with her. 

Once I thought she was over, she stormed back into the cafe. “Actually don’t waste your time coming back! I’m sick of you!” She screamed and ran out again.

The boy and I stood in shock for a while until he groaned and looked out the window, hoping to find her there. But instead we saw her get into a taxi and drive away. 

“Um, do you still want that cake?” I asked awkwardly. I was a cashier, I was supposed to be happy at all times. I wasn’t trained on how to deal with messy breakups...or whatever that was. 

The boy didn’t answer my question so I closed the shelf and took out a slice just in case. If he didn’t want it, then I would be glad taking it home.

I watched him slump against the chair and sigh. “You ever had any messy breakups?” His question was totally normal, yet I still felt a pain in my chest at the question. 

“Um, sorta.” I answered blandly. He raised a brow but then turned away to look out the window. He loosened his tie and relaxed.

“Yours worse than mine?” He asked hesitantly. I shrugged and put the cake behind me, assuming he wasn’t going to eat it.

“Probably, but to everyone, their breakup is always the worst.” I fiddled with my uniform. For some reason, it felt normal to talk to this boy about something I’d never been able to talk about before. 

“Yeah you’re probably right.” He fiddled with the sugar stand on the counter. “How young were you?” He asked. I hesitated, then sighed.

“I was 15. He was 17.” I noted casually, taking off my apron and hanging it up. He scoffed.

“15? That hardly counts then. How bad could it have been?” 

I felt like worlds passed by before I mustered up the courage to speak again. 

“He got hit by a car. Passed two days later.” I whispered out. The boy turned to me in shock and I knew he regret his words.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t-” I cut the boy off, not wanting to hear anymore.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. It was no one’s fault. I wish I could blame someone, but I can’t.” I muttered. 

I dimmed the lights out and looked to the boy.

“I’m closing now, so I guess our conversation has to end here.” He got the hint and stood, gathering his jacket he had taken off. 

“Hey, I’m really sorry for pushing. I guess I’ve been so full of myself lately, thinking my relationship was the worst.” He ran his hands through his hair and chuckled bitterly. “I guess I took for granted that I could just get out of the relationship if I wanted.” I shrugged and tussled my hair out of it’s ponytail.

“I guess. But you should’ve live like someone will die any minute.” 

I grabbed my keys as we both headed to the door. 

“Then, how do you live?” I paused for a moment, unsure how to answer his question.

“Like I will.” 

-----

“Sorry, we don’t sell cards and magic books here, sorry.” I repeated the same line once again. I flinched back once I saw the angry reactions of the people. 

“Maybe you should rename your goddamn shop then!” The kids marched out and talked bad about me behind my back. I blew out a huff of air and saw my bangs fly up. 

I frowned once I saw other people who popped into the shop walked out as well. I hate this place so much. 

“It’s your break now y/n.” I nodded to the other girl and almost ran to the back room. 

“Rough day?” My boss asked. He was an elderly man who did nothing but say ambiguous statements and made bad jokes.

“It can’t be because I saw no dogs!” He chuckled at his joke while I stared at him, wondering if he actually thought that was funny.

I instead sipped on my coffee and sighed. “Not any different from the ones before. People are still upset that we aren’t a magic shop. Maybe we should just become one so appease them.” I joked. The old man chuckled and slapped his leg.

“But that would break the purpose of this shop!” I raised a brow.

“Making a shop called Magic Shop into an actual magic shop would defeat the purpose of this shop?” 

“Yes.” He nodded. “Then it wouldn’t be magic anymore.” I gave him a hard stare and felt defeated at his words. What the hell did that even mean?

Then the man looked at me, frowning. “Hey, why aren’t you dating? I saw that boy from this morning chatting you up and you did...nothing!” He exclaimed, almost baffled that I wouldn’t flirt with cute boys.

I shrugged and drank more coffee. “Um, sorry, I only date men who wear cologne in a green bottle and sing Christmas songs in the summer time. Oh and he also has to have a pencil collection and have socks for every day of the week.” He scoffed and shook his head at my detailed response. He ignored me. 

“You’re still young and vivacious.” I was about to question to word choice but he went on. “You’re supposed to be breaking hearts and then piece them back together.” He made little sewing movements which made me break into laughter.

“Hah hah, you’re hilarious.” I spat, but with less bite than usual. I knew the old man was just looking out for me. 

He sat still in his spinny chair, saying nothing which was odd for his normal behavior. 

“You can’t let one bad experience ruin your entire life. People leave, people are lost; only you can continue to move on.” My expression turned hard at his statement, but I softened when I remember his wife had also pass not too long ago. “Sometimes all you can do is just drink tea and stare at the universe. Let the calmness fill you more than the experiences you’ve had, and that’s how you rejuvenate yourself.”

Before I could ask what that meant, he turned back to his computer and started typing again. I listened to the rhythm of his fingers hitting the keys and the sound of the people shouting outside. 

“S-sorry, I-I’m I-” I sighed and stood. The young, new girl at the cash register was too shy to tell people off and was always terrible at staying calm. 

“Hey, let her deal with it.” He muttered. I raised a brow and pointed at the door.

“Do you hear her? I’m afraid she’ll have a panic attack in front of all these people.” I said harshly. 

“She needs to get stronger.”

“Well, some people are already strong.” I retorted. He held his fingers to his lips and pointed outside. I listened on to the commotion outside.

“Sorry we don’t sell magic stuff here! Go somewhere else and buy it!” I heard the dainty and shaky voice yell. I heard the buzz of someone leaving the cafe and I knew they left. 

I looked over at the older man and he smiled. 

“You’re never born strong, you just have to be strong sometimes.” I let his words resonate through my brain, chewing on the words. 

I sighed and turned to the door again.

“And I do hope you go on a date with the boy who visited last night.” My eyes widened and I jumped back in shock.

“W-what? How did you even know about-”

“Hey, your break is done. Tick tock.” 

----

“Drink tea and stare at the universe. What the hell does that even mean?” I mumbled to myself. The shop was empty as it was almost closing time. I had to talk to myself to fill the silence. 

As I was about to walk out the door, I took a moment of silence for myself. 

“Dammit.” 

Those were the last words I said before I was sitting in a chair, sipping on some tea. It wasn’t as romantic looking as someone would imagine. I was drinking passion fruit tea and it was a bright pink. It was in a plastic cup since I was sick of doing the dishes. It was no small, dainty white cup with smoke steaming from it. It was just fruity iced tea.

Yet, the old man was right, I felt at peace. 

Until I heard a buzz come from the door. 

“Who the-” I whispered. As I turned around, I saw the boy from last night staring back at me. I froze from shock.

“Um, hey, it’s me again.” He chuckled. I nodded, taking a sip from my tea.

“Yeah, I remember.” I laughed. He held out a hand.

“Minho.” 

“Y/n.” I shook his head, wondering why the guy was so formal.

I noted he was holding flowers and raised a brow. 

“Oh these? I don’t even know, some guy just handed these to me on the streets and I didn’t have the heart to say no.” He giggled childishly. 

I felt my nose getting itchy and a sneeze about to form. “Well, I’m allergic, so, um.” His eyes widened in panic. 

“Oh, I’m sorry! Um, I should.” Before I could give him ideas, he opened the door and set them outside. “There, gone.” 

“Thanks.” I then nodded to the counter. “Want something?” He shook his head.

“Nah, I should be heading home soon. I put a roast in the oven before I left.” I scoffed at his words. Who puts something in the oven and then just leaves their house?

“Well, what did you come here to say then?” I felt his nervousness roll off in waves. I could almost expect what was coming.

“Um, well, I was just gonna ask for your phone number. But, I feel really awkward right now and usually I’m good at this and-” He stopped when I started laughing. “Look, I just wanna be friends.” I raised a brow mockingly.

“Oh wow, first last words before friends becomes something else.” Now it was his turn to raise a brow.

“Well, I wouldn’t be too upset at that.” 

I said nothing at that response. Then, I cut the boy some slack. I pulled out my phone and gave it to him.

“Here. Type yours in.” He looked at me with happy eyes and quickly typed it in.

“I’m going to be 100% honest, I had no idea what I was thinking when I was coming over here today. All I knew is I wanted to talk to you more.” I nodded.

“I get that. Sometimes you need to just go with your gut.” 

A wave of silence over whelmed us. 

“So that roast.” I nodded hurriedly. 

“Yeah, so, see you around I guess?” I turned to walk out the door, but he caught me softly on the wrist.

“Wait, how are you getting home?” He asked. 

“Uh, by bus.” 

“I’ll drive you.” I shook my head. “Oh c’mon, it’s late and I bet the last bus already left.” I checked my clock. It didn’t. 

I paused to give him an answer.

“Ok, fine, I’ll go with you.” I felt my heart burst when he smiled widely.

“Great, let’s go to my house first so I can take out my roast.” I let out a loud bark of laughter and followed him to his car.

I got in and noted his clean car. 

“It’s pretty clean.” I noted. He shook his head and nodded.

“Yeah, I used to have to clean it because Sooyoung loved it clean. But now it’s over so.” He shrugged. I patted him on the shoulder.

“Sorry, dude.” He gave me a look.

“Do I really seem that upset about it?” 

“No, but I felt like I had to do something.” He let out a chuckle and shook his head. He moved a bottle to the side to make way for my tea. 

“Sorry, I don’t know why I have my cologne in here. I hope you’re not sensitive to smells.” I stared at the green bottle and shook my head.

“Nope. My nose is strong just like my mind.” He laughed and started the car. He slipped in a DVD and pushed a few buttons. “You like DVD’s still?” He gasped and feigned offense.

“Hey, I like the feeling of DVD’s in my car.” He pressed the play button. “Sleigh bell’s ringing, are you listening?” He sang to the first line. I felt my heart drop. 

“A-are you singing Christmas songs in the summer?” I stuttered out. The car was filled with the familiar tune of Winter Wonderland which filled me of memories of snow and hot chocolate. 

The boy laughed heartily. “Yes, Christmas songs are the best songs. Also, fun fact, I’m pretty sure it’s a way to cool down in the summer. You’re reminded of snow and joy that you don’t mind the heat and sadness as much.” I scoffed at his words, but nonetheless enjoyed the song selection.

“Hey, I don’t judge man. I love it too.” I shrugged. I loved the winter time. The heat always made me insanely bored and sad. I felt no motivation to do anything, plus I had no AC. The boy gave me an odd look.

“Really now? How did your last boyfriend deal with that?” He laughed. I sighed and looked out the window. Suddenly his face dropped. “Oh shoot, I’m sorry-” I waved it off.

“It’s fine! I mean, he personally hated it, as did everyone else.” I shrugged the topic off. “Honestly, we were polar opposites, more like friends than anything romantic to be completely honest. I was a sophomore and he was a senior: it felt like we were worlds apart, ya know?” He nodded and turned into a driveway,. 

“Yeah, I get that. But that doesn’t stop the guilt does it?” He asked softly. I shook my head as he turned off the radio.

“No, I think it makes it worse honestly. Like I feel guilty that I didn’t love him the way I was supposed to.” I muttered out. The pain was so old that it felt like a residual emotion. I could live life without him, but the guilt felt so fresh.

We pulled into the driveway and got out of the car. It was a nice house for a young guy like him.

“I hope you don’t mind the mess.” He noted before unlocking the door. As the door was flung open, everything was fairly neat. There were a few blankets and papers sprawled over the place, but that wasn’t what caught my eye. 

“Is that...a pile of pencils?” I asked quietly. He looked behind himself and saw what I was staring at. He laughed sheepishly and scratched the back of his neck. 

“Oh yeah, um, I’m actually a college professor. What people don’t know is that the pencils these clumsy children leave behind are MINE.” He laughed maniacally and I couldn’t help but bursting into fits of laughter as well.

“Wow, I guess I’ll never drop my pencil in your class then.” He rolled his eyes. He stepped into the kitchen and pulled out the roast that looked magnificent. 

“I have a feeling I would give yours back though.” He gave me a sly smile and dusted his hands off. I rolled my eyes at the man, yet blushed anyways.

“So, what school do you teach for?” I asked. His eyes lit up at the question.

“Oh, I taught at Korea University actually.” Damn, this guy must be smart. Then I realized something.

“Korea Uni? Isn’t that pretty far from here?” He nodded and sighed. 

“Yeah, actually, despite the pay being really good, I just felt like the school wasn’t for me. So the reason why I’m here actually is I applied for a job at a local college here. The pay isn’t much less, plus it’s much more cooperative with the students.” I nodded in awe. 

“Wait, why do you have a house here then?”

“Oh, this is my parent’s. They’re out of town so they let me use it. Hence the scattered mess. I’ll have to clean it before I leave.” I nodded, fiddling awkwardly at my fingers. 

“That means if you don’t get the job...you’ll have to leave.” I muttered sadly. He nodded with a long sigh.

“Yeah...but let’s just both hope I get the job.” A wave of silence ran over us, but was quickly ended by the boy. 

Minho stared at the roast and then back at me. “Hey, do you wanna stay for dinner?” 

Usually, I would feel compelled to say no. But I looked at how big the roast was, and sighed.

“Sure.” 

----

I leaned over the counter boredly as work was slow today. Almost no one was here except a few stragglers who came in to get a coffee or something. Also, there was a few people who came in thinking this was a magic shop. I hope one day I will be able to say yes. 

“Y/n, good morning.” The older man walked in and tipped his hat at me. I gave him a small smile and tipped my visor back. 

“Morning, boss.” 

“Slow day?” I nodded furiously. “You know what they say about slow days? Those are the best days!” I scoffed at that remark.

“No, no one says that.” 

Work was so slow that I actually had time to brew myself a coffee and drink it, trying to stay awake during my shift. As I was dozing off, I heard a buzz come through the door. I shot up from my chair.

“Hi, wel-” I stopped my sentence when I saw the familiar boy in front of me. I scoffed and tilted my hat up. “Welcome to Magic Shop, how can I help you?” His eyes were bright.

“I got the job.” He stated randomly. I squinted my eyes at him.

“W-what?”

“I got the job! I’m staying here for until a long time.” He laughed at that sentence but I was so happy for him.

“Oh my gosh, that’s awesome. I would hug you but I’m on shift.” He shrugged and gave me a small smirk.

“Don’t worry, I think we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other.” He then started to back away and moving to out the door. “I need to head to a meeting now, but, I’ll see you tonight? Maybe? I’ll probably be here before you close.” I laughed and nodded.

“I’ll be here.” I called out. He gave me one last smile before he exited the place, leaving me in a girlish frenzy.

“Huh, I guess this place is magic after all.”

“TOLD YA SO!” 

[dipulb3]

2021 Wrangler 4xe is a mediocre hybrid, awesome Jeep

New Post has been published on https://appradab.com/2021-wrangler-4xe-is-a-mediocre-hybrid-awesome-jeep-3/

2021 Wrangler 4xe is a mediocre hybrid, awesome Jeep

The new Jeep Wrangler 4xe plug-in hybrid is the brand’s biggest step yet into the realm of electrified driving, offering up to 21 miles of electric range per charge. No, a big battery hasn’t magically transformed the Jeep into a smarm-powered eco-car; the improvements aren’t even that great when you look at the numbers. But electrification also hasn’t cost the 4xe seemingly any of the off-road capability or performance that we’ve come to expect from the Wrangler and it’s Trail Rated badge. If anything, it’s better than ever.

Electric Blue tow hooks at the front and rear visually differentiate the 4xe from more conventional Wranglers, perhaps more so than the subtle charging port mounted high on the front driver’s side fender. The blue theme also extends to the Trail Rated badges and other graphics across the boxy body. To the casual observer, the 4xe doesn’t look very different, especially when bathed in a healthy coat of mud. But of course, there are bigger changes hidden beneath the surface. 

2021 Jeep Wrangler 4xe speaks softly, carries a big battery

See all photos

The 4xe is powered by Jeep’s 2.0-liter turbocharged four-cylinder engine, aided by a small starter/generator motor. It is similar in design and function to the eTorque mild-hybrid motor, though this one operates at 400 volts rather than 48.

Sandwiched between the gasoline engine and the standard eight-speed automatic transmission — replacing the torque converter — is the larger, main electric drive motor. A pair of clutches tie it to the gearbox and the gasoline powerplant, allowing the combustion engine to be completely decoupled from the wheels for full-electric driving. Downstream, you’ll find the same four-wheel-drive system, two-speed transfer case and locking differentials as the non-hybrid Wrangler, with a 2.72:1 final drive axle for the base 4xe Sahara or 4.0:1 for the more off-road capable 4xe Rubicon.

All together, you’re looking at 375 horsepower and a very generous 470 pound-feet of torque. The Hemi-powered Rubicon 392 has the same peak torque and more power, but the precise control and instant torque of the electric motor combined with the 4×4 system’s low-speed crawling hardware makes the 4xe the more capable Wrangler over extremely technical terrain, according to Jeep.

The 4xe’s 6-second 0-to-60-mph time is slower than the 392’s 4.5, but electrification has other advantages.

Antuan Goodwin/Roadshow

There are three E Selec modes that allow the driver to choose how to use the 17-kilowatt-hour battery’s juice. Electric mode uses battery power only for up to 21 miles of mostly silent driving at an EPA-estimated 49 mpge. The default Hybrid mode blends in gasoline power once the battery is depleted, while eSave prioritizes the combustion engine to preserve or generate charge for the battery, which is useful for saving a bit of low-speed EV range for the end of a highway stretch. The EPA reckons your economy will drop to around 20 mpg once the battery is depleted, which is surprisingly 2 mpg worse than the non-hybrid Wrangler with the same engine. Boosted by the initial electric range, I finished a day of testing at 24 mpg combined.

There’s also a Max Regen setting that can be applied to all three modes. It’s close to a one-pedal driving mode, giving a full 0.25 Gs of regenerative braking on lift, but still creeps forward at very low speeds. Jeep’s engineers have done a good job tuning the feel of this mode; the amount of regen or engine braking feels consistent regardless of the battery’s state and/or the chosen E Selec mode.

Most of my testing involved keeping the Max Regen mode on, and to give the 4xe the best shot at reaching its estimated range, the 4×4 system is best used in 2-High rear-drive setting. Like this, I was able to put 23.8 miles of mostly silent city driving behind me before the gas engine kicked on, which is slightly more than Jeep’s estimate. There’s still quite a bit of road, wind and, occasionally, drivetrain noise, and my example rolls on the standard road-friendly 20-inch wheels with all-season tires. Expect less range from the Rubicon’s 33-inch tall knobbies and shorter final-drive, and significantly less at highway speeds. Hybrid or not, the Wrangler still has the aerodynamic profile of a palette of bricks and overall efficiency tanks above 50-60 mph.

Plugging in adds up to 21 electric miles per 2.5 hour charge.

Antuan Goodwin/Roadshow

Plugging into a 240-volt Level 2 charging station — like the Jeep 4xe Charging Network trailhead chargers — juices the Wrangler’s battery pack in around 2.5 hours. At a regular 110-volt home wall outlet, that stretches to just over 12 hours from flat.

Of course, the most important thing about the 4xe is that it’s still a Wrangler; it still must deliver on the go-anywhere capability that name commands. To test this, I swapped into a more rugged Rubicon model with its 33-inch tires, dropped into 4-Low, locked the diffs and engaged full-electric mode to tackle an off-road course.

The journey started by fording water 30 inches deep without electrocuting anyone involved. The entire high-voltage electrical system is sealed and waterproof, plus the battery pack is actually tucked in the cabin, beneath the rear seats, where it is climate controlled and protected from bumps, punctures and scrapes.

The high-voltage powertrain and battery are waterproof and protected from the elements.

Jeep

With its impressive 77.2:1 crawl ratio and gobs of electric torque on tap, the Rubicon 4xe made easy work of some pretty severe climbs up solid, smooth rock faces. And while the 4xe’s PHEV hardware adds quite a bit of weight to the Wrangler’s package — about 770 pounds more than a comparably equipped Rubicon V6 — the battery’s position actually improves weight distribution, shifting quite close to a 50:50 split depending on trim, and lowering the center of mass slightly, for a more planted feel even at severe angles. Creeping along was made easier with the latest generation Selec-Speed Control smoothing out hill ascents and descents, but the throttle was remarkably sensitive and easy to modulate even without it. 

Perhaps the most enjoyably odd part of the 4xe off-road experience was just how absolutely and strangely silent the powertrain was even when hauling itself out of the mud and up ridiculously steep climbs. As much as I love the sound of a powerful ICE, hearing the scrub of the tires over the terrain added an unexpected dimension to the crawling experience, and I particularly enjoyed being able to more easily hear my spotters’ commands and the nature surrounding the trail. Of course, that meant the occasional thunks or scrapes from the undercarriage when exploring the limits of the 4xe’s 10.8-inch ground clearance and 22.5-degree breakover angle were also much more pronounced.

Street-bound improvements are minimal, but at least the Wrangler makes no discernable sacrifices off-road.

Jeep

The 2021 Jeep Wrangler 4xe starts at $49,490 for the base Sahara, including a $1,495 destination charge. That’s about $8,825 more than a similarly spec’d Sahara V6, but up to $7,500 in plug-in tax rebates and any state specific-incentives should ease the sticker shock. The more rugged Rubicon and feature-laden High Altitude modes I tested start at $53,190 or $55,074, respectively.

The Jeep Wrangler 4xe is just an OK plug-in hybrid. Its range and fuel economy are pretty weak but, with frequent charging and shorter trips, there’s still plenty of potential to bend the rules of “your mileage may vary” to your benefit. However, the 4xe is truly the most capable, technically advanced and eco-friendly Wrangler ever and its ability to quietly and confidently tackle the great outdoors with a nod to environmental responsibility is currently unmatched. At least, until the electric trucks arrive.

[jewishtango]

apple&honey macaron for a sweet new year

l’shana tova everyone!! i started making these last year and they were a big hit so i thought i’d share the recipe for you all, which is really a combination of recipes adapted from different sources. i’m going to start with the fillings, bc i always make them in advance. i make two fillings for this particular recipe, but if you want to try to combine them, that’s up to you. this is long so bear with me

the first is apple butter. this is adapted from cooks illustrated, who bless their hearts made some p glaring errors imo

1lb macintosh apples 1lb fuji apples 1/2 liquid cup apple cider 1/4 liquid cup calvados/applejack/some other apple alcohol 1/4 liquid cup apple cider vinegar 1/2 cup packed dark brown sugar 1/4 cup sugar reasonable splash of lemon juice (approx 1.5 tablespoons) sprinkling of salt spices!

1. cut up your apples into little chunks KEEPING THE PEELS ON. put em in a big ol dutch oven with the other ingredients and stir a bit to get the apples coated in em. the original recipe doesn’t call for spices, claiming it takes away from the apple flavor, but theyre clearly idiots so go wild. i throw in a single star anice, generous cinnamon cloves and nutmeg, and a little dried lemon peel bc why the hell not 

2. put the pot on the stove over medium heat and bring the liquid to boil, stirring occasionally. 

3. turn the heat down to medium low, cover the pot, and leave that fucker for half an hour. in the wise words of my grandma, DON’T PEAK

4. i used a food mill to process the contents of the pot but i guess a strainer could work too. in any case, get rid of those skins and chunky bits, put it all in a smaller pot.

5. on the lowest of heat and stirring constantly, reduce what is now essentially applesauce down into jam. this is going to take a while, so make sure youve got everything u need first or someone to take over if you’ve gotta leave the pot alone. the jam should darken and once you’ve got it down so it sorta glops down from the spoon in masses rather than pouring off of it, get that shit in a jar. let it cool on the counter until its about room temp, then get a lid on it and refrigerate. you’re done!

the honey buttercream is from my dear rose beranbaum’s cake bible, which is a title i’ve always found sort of ironic considering she’s jewish, but that’s beside the point

3 egg yolks (if you can, use the ones left over from the macaron recipe!) 1 cup butter, cut into chunks and softened 1/6 cup (approx) clover honey

1. using an electric mixer, whisk the egg yolks until they’ve lightened

2. get a glass heat-proof container ready. in a small saucepan, heat the honey up, stirring constantly, until it gets to a roiling boil (what’s a roiling boil? the entire surface will get bubbly and frothy. its kinda hard to miss when it happens i promise) QUICK. take it off the heat and transfer immediately to the glass measure to keep it from cooking further

3. asap, start mixing the eggs while slowly pouring in the honey. this’ll cook the eggs so don’t go worrying about salmonella. keeping whisking til the mixture cools completely.

4. add the butter in chunks as you keep mixing, whisk until smooth. voila! put it in the fridge to cool a bit.

finally are the macarons. i use notsohumblepie’s macaron recipe which i’ve fiddled with to make work better for my oven, which is always at least five degrees too cold and takes longer to bake things. i like this one in particular bc it gets into some of science, why you don’t tend to flavor the shells, and the maturation process which is EXTREMELY important. here are some notes from my experience w the process

the recipe calls for aging your egg whites, which means measuring them out ahead of time and sticking them in the fridge for a couple days lightly covered to get rid of any additional moisture. make sure the bowl you use is ABSOLUTELY clean and dry, which i usually accomplish by taking a paper towel slightly dampened with vinegar and wiping the inside with that. also keep in mind that things like humidity WILL affect your macarons, which tend to like drier environments—my dishwasher is by the stove and everyone else in the house knows not to open it while macarons are in progress. 

i use bob’s red mill almond flour, but i also find it helpful to grind the almond flour further in a food processor. i sift and measure out 125 grams of almond flour and powdered sugar and process for longer than i think i should, then sift and measure out the other 100 grams of powdered sugar, add that, and then process again for awhile. then i sift the entire contents one last time.

the recipe says to beat the eggs until foamy before adding the sugar/egg white powder mix, which is sort of vague. i interpret this to mean “foamy like a cappuccino” if that helps you at all

it also says to add the food coloring (GEL. ALWAYS GEL) before the macaronage/folding process, which i usually follow. in this particular case, fold in the almond flour mixture a third at a time first, then separate the batter into somewhere between 1/3 & 2/3 and 1/2 &1/2 and add red food dye to the larger portion and green/yellow to the smaller. individually finish the folding process with each until you can do the figure-eight test and the batter resembles lava. put some of the green and some of the red into your pastry-bag-thingy and pipe ‘em out, you should get a cool swirly thing if you do it right, which is to say the green and red are on diff sides, not on top of each other.

assembly!!

make a little circle of buttercream, and place a dab of apple butter in the center for each lil macaron sandwich. 

feel free to hmu with any questions or problems!!

[numberplates4u-blog]

New Hyundai i30 N 2017 review

Image 1 of 30 Image 1 of 30 31 Oct, 2017 9:15am Lawrence Allan The new Hyundai i30 N may lack the power of some hot hatch rivals, but it makes up for it in almost every other way Hyundai has gone to great lengths to banish its image of being a bargain basement carmaker over the last decade, with a range of competitive, quality small cars, family cars and SUVs on the books. But up until now it’s shied away from performance offerings, leaving European rivals to dominate the market. Finally, after the hiring of ex-BMW M division head Albert Biermann in 2014, Hyundai has launched its ‘N’ performance sub-brand with this: the i30 N. We were impressed with it out in Germany earlier this year, yet this is the real acid test on our broken and scarred British tarmac. It’s also our first chance to try the cheaper 247bhp base car, which is £3,000 less than the 271bhp Performance Package model we drove previously.  • New Hyundai i30 Performance Package review Hyundai’s engineers did hundreds of laps of the Nurburgring during development of the i30 N, though thankfully the company isn’t feeling the need to shout about it too much. The quietly aggressive bodykit, wider wheelarches, bigger wheels (18-inch items on this car, an 19-inchers on the top-spec model), red details and large twin exhausts give the game away to enthusiasts, but those after showiness and extravagance from their hot hatch will be better served by cars such as the Honda Civic Type R.  Image 2 of 30 Image 2 of 30 It’s a similar story inside. Hyundai has transferred over the solid yet unexciting cabin of the standard i30, with only the drive mode selector on the steering wheel and a pair of nicely supportive sports seats added as distinguishing features. But that’s the same as you’ll find in most rival hot hatches, and the i30 N’s cabin is well-finished, spacious and intuitive to use. We’d forgive you for having some scepticism about the i30 N’s driving experience. Even putting the fact that this is Hyundai’s first hot hatch to one side, the standard i30 is far from an entertaining steer. That’s what makes the N all the more surprising when you get behind the wheel and find out that it is, in fact, a true challenger to the current hot hatch elite. With the Civic Type R, plus four-wheel drive competitors like the Ford Focus RS pushing beyond the 300bhp mark, the i30 N looks down on power even in Performance Package form. But the 2.0-litre turbo petrol engine seems almost as energetic as more muscular rivals, partly thanks to the short gearing. We drove the standard and Performance Pack models back-to-back, and while you can notice slightly more pull at high revs in the latter, the former feels just as fast most of the time.   Image 3 of 30 Image 3 of 30 It rips right up to the redline with urgency and with almost no lag, meaning you can rifle through the gears with the i30 N’s slick manual shift and find yourself covering ground at a surprising rate of knots. It’s not the most exciting hot hatch powertrain on the market, but the switchable exhaust uses sound generators to add to the hard-edged snarl in the mid-range and deliver a cacophony of pops and bangs. We also love the rev-matching tech, allowing quick and smooth downshifts without the need to heel-and-toe. It’s happy to quieten down at a cruise and deliver diesel-like low-rev torque, too.  • Best hot hatchbacks on sale The engine is strong and willing, then, but the handling is even more impressive. Doing without the Performance Package means this car lacks the electronic differential and bigger brakes, yet it hasn’t suffered too much. While the diff in the pricier i30 N keeps it locked into its chosen line out of a bend no matter what you do, even this standard car grips and holds on keenly. The steering is quick, direct and surprisingly feelsome, boosting your confidence in the car’s abilities.  Image 5 of 30 Image 5 of 30 Adding to the tremendous feeling of agility is the impressive body control, with the i30 N feeling remarkably well tied-down regardless of which mode you have the suspension in. The drive modes are endlessly configurable, unlike in some rivals, so you can leave the adaptive dampers in Normal mode and ramp up the throttle response, exhaust noise and steering weight separately. We’d recommend doing this, as the i30 N’s ride is firm but well damped in the standard setting – ramping up to Sport or (in particular) N mode simply makes it too stiff and easily unsettled for British B-roads. The standard car is better in this area than the Performance Package, though, as the slightly smaller wheels remove a layer of harshness from the i30 N’s bump absorption, and reduce road noise.  The i30 N’s rounded abilities and exceptional sharpness make it one of the finest front-wheel drive hot hatches around. That’s quite something, considering most manufacturers have been perfecting their offerings for years. If you’re planning on doing some track driving then the Performance Package is the one to go for, but on the road the base car offers very nearly as much excitement for significantly less cash. At £25,000, it undercuts basically every rival, making it look fantastic value for money.  5 Whether it’s the base version we have here, or the kitted-out Performance Package, the Hyundai i30 N is a genuine surprise. It excels on UK roads, making up for its slight power deficit with a willing engine and sublime agility. It has the talent to give the Honda Civic Type R a run for its money with less divisive styling to boot. It’s also as easily to live with as a regular i30, despite a slightly firm ride, and the icing on the cake is that it even looks great value. Model: Hyundai I30 N Price: £24,995 Engine: 2.0-litre 4cyl turbo petrol Power/torque: 247bhp/353Nm 0-62mph: 6.4 seconds Top speed: 155mph Economy/CO2: 40.0mpg/159g/km On sale: January 2018

http://www.autoexpress.co.uk/hyundai/i30/101559/new-hyundai-i30-n-2017-review

[privateplates4u]

New Hyundai i30 N 2017 review

Image 1 of 30 Image 1 of 30 31 Oct, 2017 9:15am Lawrence Allan The new Hyundai i30 N may lack the power of some hot hatch rivals, but it makes up for it in almost every other way Hyundai has gone to great lengths to banish its image of being a bargain basement carmaker over the last decade, with a range of competitive, quality small cars, family cars and SUVs on the books. But up until now it’s shied away from performance offerings, leaving European rivals to dominate the market. Finally, after the hiring of ex-BMW M division head Albert Biermann in 2014, Hyundai has launched its ‘N’ performance sub-brand with this: the i30 N. We were impressed with it out in Germany earlier this year, yet this is the real acid test on our broken and scarred British tarmac. It’s also our first chance to try the cheaper 247bhp base car, which is £3,000 less than the 271bhp Performance Package model we drove previously.  • New Hyundai i30 Performance Package review Hyundai’s engineers did hundreds of laps of the Nurburgring during development of the i30 N, though thankfully the company isn’t feeling the need to shout about it too much. The quietly aggressive bodykit, wider wheelarches, bigger wheels (18-inch items on this car, an 19-inchers on the top-spec model), red details and large twin exhausts give the game away to enthusiasts, but those after showiness and extravagance from their hot hatch will be better served by cars such as the Honda Civic Type R.  Image 2 of 30 Image 2 of 30 It’s a similar story inside. Hyundai has transferred over the solid yet unexciting cabin of the standard i30, with only the drive mode selector on the steering wheel and a pair of nicely supportive sports seats added as distinguishing features. But that’s the same as you’ll find in most rival hot hatches, and the i30 N’s cabin is well-finished, spacious and intuitive to use. We’d forgive you for having some scepticism about the i30 N’s driving experience. Even putting the fact that this is Hyundai’s first hot hatch to one side, the standard i30 is far from an entertaining steer. That’s what makes the N all the more surprising when you get behind the wheel and find out that it is, in fact, a true challenger to the current hot hatch elite. With the Civic Type R, plus four-wheel drive competitors like the Ford Focus RS pushing beyond the 300bhp mark, the i30 N looks down on power even in Performance Package form. But the 2.0-litre turbo petrol engine seems almost as energetic as more muscular rivals, partly thanks to the short gearing. We drove the standard and Performance Pack models back-to-back, and while you can notice slightly more pull at high revs in the latter, the former feels just as fast most of the time.   Image 3 of 30 Image 3 of 30 It rips right up to the redline with urgency and with almost no lag, meaning you can rifle through the gears with the i30 N’s slick manual shift and find yourself covering ground at a surprising rate of knots. It’s not the most exciting hot hatch powertrain on the market, but the switchable exhaust uses sound generators to add to the hard-edged snarl in the mid-range and deliver a cacophony of pops and bangs. We also love the rev-matching tech, allowing quick and smooth downshifts without the need to heel-and-toe. It’s happy to quieten down at a cruise and deliver diesel-like low-rev torque, too.  • Best hot hatchbacks on sale The engine is strong and willing, then, but the handling is even more impressive. Doing without the Performance Package means this car lacks the electronic differential and bigger brakes, yet it hasn’t suffered too much. While the diff in the pricier i30 N keeps it locked into its chosen line out of a bend no matter what you do, even this standard car grips and holds on keenly. The steering is quick, direct and surprisingly feelsome, boosting your confidence in the car’s abilities.  Image 5 of 30 Image 5 of 30 Adding to the tremendous feeling of agility is the impressive body control, with the i30 N feeling remarkably well tied-down regardless of which mode you have the suspension in. The drive modes are endlessly configurable, unlike in some rivals, so you can leave the adaptive dampers in Normal mode and ramp up the throttle response, exhaust noise and steering weight separately. We’d recommend doing this, as the i30 N’s ride is firm but well damped in the standard setting – ramping up to Sport or (in particular) N mode simply makes it too stiff and easily unsettled for British B-roads. The standard car is better in this area than the Performance Package, though, as the slightly smaller wheels remove a layer of harshness from the i30 N’s bump absorption, and reduce road noise.  The i30 N’s rounded abilities and exceptional sharpness make it one of the finest front-wheel drive hot hatches around. That’s quite something, considering most manufacturers have been perfecting their offerings for years. If you’re planning on doing some track driving then the Performance Package is the one to go for, but on the road the base car offers very nearly as much excitement for significantly less cash. At £25,000, it undercuts basically every rival, making it look fantastic value for money.  5 Whether it’s the base version we have here, or the kitted-out Performance Package, the Hyundai i30 N is a genuine surprise. It excels on UK roads, making up for its slight power deficit with a willing engine and sublime agility. It has the talent to give the Honda Civic Type R a run for its money with less divisive styling to boot. It’s also as easily to live with as a regular i30, despite a slightly firm ride, and the icing on the cake is that it even looks great value. Model: Hyundai I30 N Price: £24,995 Engine: 2.0-litre 4cyl turbo petrol Power/torque: 247bhp/353Nm 0-62mph: 6.4 seconds Top speed: 155mph Economy/CO2: 40.0mpg/159g/km On sale: January 2018

http://www.autoexpress.co.uk/hyundai/i30/101559/new-hyundai-i30-n-2017-review

[daisy-chain-gardens]

Exchange Romance - Part 4

Part 1: https://daisy-chain-gardens.tumblr.com/post/162913902685/exchange-romance

Part 2: https://daisy-chain-gardens.tumblr.com/post/162947052535/exchange-romance-part-2

Part 3: https://daisy-chain-gardens.tumblr.com/post/163574533070/exchange-romance-part-3

A/N: Hey guys! I had a lot of trouble writing this part and I’m not that happy with how it turned out but I hope you guys like it! A huge thanks to @marieherondalebookfangirl for being super supportive and enthusiastic about this story and also for giving me the song ideas for this part. The songs mentioned are ‘Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go’ by Wham! and ‘Northern Wind’ by City and Colour.  Please let me know what you think.

Summary: Betty and Jughead’s first school dance together

Word Count: 4450

As soon as Fred let him take a break from lifting rocks, Jughead all but ran into the break room to grab his phone and text hid doe eyed girlfriend an apology for disappearing so early that morning. He’d wanted to wake her up to say goodbye but he couldn’t do it. She’d looked so peaceful, such a contrast to how he’d found her the morning before. A small smile played on her lips and Jughead found himself wondering what dreams were gracing her with their presence at this time of the morning. He’d pushed a stray strand of her golden hair behind her ear before kissing her gently on the forehead, lips soft so as not to pull her away from her dreams. He had left her a note, explaining his mysterious absence, but he still felt bad. In true Betty fashion, she’d been the one to text him first. Thank you, Jughead. His whole being seemed brighter with his goofy smile. She’d read his letter.

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

The Saturday after Betty’s birthday, Betty and Jughead were sitting on an armchair in the Lodge’s library. The blonde was sitting on her boyfriend’s lap as his voice filled the cozy room. His arms were wrapped around her as he held the book in front of them, reading aloud from the ink covered pages as Betty played with the hair that had fallen from his beanie. They stayed that way for a long time, interrupted in the middle of the afternoon by the sound of a phone ringing. Betty pulled hers out of her pocket and answered the call before she realised who it was.

“Elizabeth! Nice of you to finally pick up.” The harsh sound of her mother’s voice pulled Betty out of the dream-like state that Jughead’s voice had lulled her into.

“Mum. I wasn’t expecting you to call. Is everything alright?” Betty sounded slightly concerned as she tried to move off of Jughead’s lap before her mother could see him.

“Everything is fine Elizabeth, why wouldn’t it be? I was just wondering what your plans were for this weekend. Hermione emailed me that there was some sort of school dance you were hoping to attend,” Alice’s eyebrows raised in question. Betty let out the breath she was holding when her mum didn’t ask who she was with.

“Yes, mum. I’m going with Ju-, I’m going with some friends.” She wasn’t technically lying since she was going to the dance with Ronnie and Archie as well. She didn’t want to tell her mother about Jughead because she knew exactly how she would react. She would start by talking about how disappointed she was in her youngest daughter, say something about how Betty was going to end up like Polly (not that Betty saw this as a bad thing), rant about how she was letting herself get distracted at such an important time of her life, and then threaten to get her sent back to New Zealand. Betty had heard this speech countless times; whenever she got a mark less than an excellence or was too busy to fulfill all of her commitments, her mother would bring out the speech. Betty would sit there quietly, pushing her nails into her palm to prevent her from yelling at her mother and making the situation worse. She didn’t want to have to deal with that over Skype, thousands of kilometers away from her sister, the only one who could make her feel better. Betty ignored the quizzical look that Jughead was giving her in favour of looking down at the rich carpet under her feet.

“Well be careful, Elizabeth. I don’t want you out too late, you know how difficult it is to hide the bags under your eyes when you don’t sleep for eight hours.” Betty tried not to roll her eyes at her mother’s comment. Jughead observed the conversation from the chair, not having moved since Betty left his lap minutes ago. Betty had told him that her mother was a bit overbearing at sometimes but he found himself oddly jealous. Here she was, on the other side of the world from her parents but they still made an effort to worry about her wellbeing. Sure, they may have gone slightly overboard but he would take more over less anyday. His Dad lived in the same town as him but Jughead couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a conversation with him, much less bugged him about his sleep patterns. Jughead stood up out of the chair and mimed to Betty that he was going to grab a drink of water as her mother babbled on about a new diet she had been researching.

“Is there someone there with you Elizabeth?” Betty’s eyes widened with shock and Jughead froze mid stride.

“Umm, yeah, mum. This is my um, this is my friend Jughead.”

“Hi Mrs. Cooper. It’s nice to meet you.” Jughead tried to put on his most charming smile as he walked over to Betty so he could be seen on the tiny screen. Betty could hear the discomfort in his voice and placed a hand on his back, moving it in small circles.

“Jughead? That’s an … interesting name. Are you going to be taking Betty to the school dance this weekend,” Alice asked, as if this was a normal thing to bring up in conversation.

“Yes Mrs. Cooper. Well, Veronica, Archie, Betty and I are all going together,” replied Jughead, remembering Betty’s response earlier. His girlfriend sent him a grateful smile as she continued to rub his back. He placed him hand on her thigh and squeezed gently.

“Elizabeth, you never told me you were going with boys. I’m not sure how I feel about this, maybe you should stay at home and work on that science project you told me you were struggling with.” Jughead had to fight back a laugh. Betty struggling with a project? Not only was that idea absurd, he happened to know that she’d finished that project a week ago, the day after it was assigned. He kept his mouth shut but made a mental note to ask her about her it later.

“Mum, really it’s fine. Archie is going out with V so there’s going to be absolutely no problem there and Jughead and I are … we’re just friends. I’m sure he’ll be the perfect gentlemen. “ She looked over at he boyfriend and had to refrain from kissing the shy smile right off his face.

“Yes, I’m sure he will be Elizabeth but you know how I feel about dances, especially after what happened to Polly.” Jughead noticed Betty’s hand holding the phone tightening, knuckles turning white. He squeezed her thigh again and she relaxed slightly. Jughead could tell that Betty was on edge and he wanted to comfort her, but he also didn’t want to piss off Alice. He found her intimidating enough as it is and he was pretty sure she was trying to be polite.

“It’ll be fine Mum. Besides, I thought that you wanted me to get the full american high school experience. This dance is just a part of that. I promise not to stay out late. I won’t drink or do drugs or whatever other wild things you seem to think happen at school dances. I’m going to this dance mother, with or without your permission.” Betty’s voice had started out a bit shaky after the mention of her sister but by the end of it, Alice’s mouth was open in shock.

“Elizabeth Cooper, that is no way to talk to your mother. You’re getting more and more like Po-”

“Gotta go mum, bye!” Betty said quickly while clicking that small red button. She let out a huge sigh before embracing Jughead in a tight hug. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” she whispered into his chest. Jughead wrapped his arm around his girlfriend, noting how small and tired she looked, a complete contrast to how she’d looked while he was reading. He scooped her up in his arms.

“Do you want me to keep reading?” he asked quietly, not wanting to disturb the tired atmosphere present in the large room. She nodded in response as he walked over to the chair and settling them into their previous position.

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

“B, you know I love you, but there's no way you’re wearing that to a school dance. Or anywhere. Ever.” Ronnie pulled the grey dress from Betty’s arms and threw it swiftly into the bin.

“I know but I wasn’t exactly thinking about school dances when I was packing my suitcase so now I have nothing to wear,” Betty groaned as she flopped onto her bed dramatically.

“You must have forgotten who you’re talking B. It’s lucky we’re almost the same size.” Betty opened her mouth to protest but her raven haired host sister was already out of the room. Veronica returned moments later, arms piled high with dresses of all shapes and colours. She couldn’t help herself, the blonde reached out a hand to touch the mountain of fabric.

“Oh my goodness, these are gorgeous V! I love them all but, knowing you, you’ve probably already picked one out for me,” she chuckled. Ronnie reached for a silvery blue dress that was hidden in the middle of the pile.

“Of course, I saw this in my wardrobe and instantly thought of you. Go try it on, I’ll wait here.” She took the dress from Ronnie’s grasp and walked into the bathroom. The fabric was soft under her fingers and seemed to sparkle under the fluorescent lights. She slipped it on before walking back into her room.

“Hey V can you help zi-” she didn’t even get the chance to finish her sentence before Veronica had jumped up from her spot on the bed.

“Oh my god! B! That dress looks like it was made for you. Jughead is going to have a heart attack when he sees you,” Ronnie gushed as she pulled the zip up Betty’s back, closing the dress while pushing her over towards the mirror. Betty gasped. She looked … elegant, sophisticated. She looked different. But she liked it.

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

On Saturday, Betty felt like a queen. She’d been to dances before but it had never felt like such a big deal. Various people were coming in and out of the apartment to help the girls get ready. Hermione was even present for a while to get her nails done for an event she was going to that night. Many hours later, the doorbell rang. Hermione floated over and opened the door.

“Hello boys, looking very handsome tonight,” she commented, stepping aside to allow the boys into the apartment.

“Thanks Mrs. Lodge. Are the girls ready?” Archie asked politely.

“They should be out in a minute. Now, Hiram and I are flying to New York for an event tonight so we won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon. I’ll be checking in with Veronica though and I expect her and Betty to be home at midnight, alright? Have a good night.” And with that she was gone, leaving the boys all alone in the large apartment, waiting for their girlfriends.

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

“I’m pretty sure I just heard the door.”

“It’ll just be the boys, Betty. Nobody ever got hurt from a little bit of suspense,” Ronnie smirked before fixing up her lipstick. While Veronica looked like the definition of confidence, Betty couldn’t sit still. Her knee was bouncing up and down impatiently while her long nails kept running through the ends of her wavy hair.

“Ok, perfect,” Ronnie said to her reflection. “You ready to knock ‘em dead?” She raised a perfect eyebrow after turning around to face the nervous blonde. “B, breathe. You look incredible and is Jughead’s jaw isn’t on the floor when he sees you I will personally kick his ass.” Betty smiled slightly at the thought of her host sister kicking anyone’s ass let alone Jughead’s. She stood up off the bed and followed Veronica into the living room.

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

The boys stood up off the couch at the sound of two sets of heels walking down the long hallway. The girls burst through the door in a fit of laughter, heads thrown back carelessly as if they were unaware that they had company. Ronnie strutted over to Archie, greeting him with a kiss and a flashy smile, wrapping her arms around his neck. Betty was stuck in the doorway. Her feet wouldn’t move. Jughead was breathtaking. His beanie was nowhere to be found and his dark hair hung messily around his face. His tie was made of the same silvery blue material of her dress but his smile was what really stopped her in her tracks. It was shy and sweet and so perfectly Jughead.

He’d noticed that she wasn’t moving but he couldn’t either. She always looked beautiful but tonight was something different. Her hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders and her eyes looked more lighter than normal. She moved towards him and Jughead could have sworn she was walking in slow motion. When Betty finally reached him she kissed him softly on the cheek.

“Hi Juggie. You look really good,” she whispered in his ear, arms around his neck.

“You look gorgeous Betts,” he whispered back, feeling the heat of her blush against his cheek. Once again, Veronica’s voice interrupted them.

“Ok ok, we get it, you both look amazing but we need to go, Smithers is late,” she stated, turning on her heel and walking out the door.

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

Even though she knew that this was the same gym she had P.E in every day, Betty couldn’t help feeling like she’d walked onto a movie set. She’d helped organise dances for her school in New Zealand but they were never anything like this. Fairy lights were draped along the walls and the hung from the ceiling, making the gym feel soft and cozy. White flowers sat in the middle of the elegant tables as fake snow floated around the room. Jughead watched Betty’s awe with a smile on his face, her childish reaction reminding him of their snowball fight the week before.

“Do they always look like this?” Betty asked as she continued to look around the room.

“I wouldn’t know. I’ve never actually been to a school dance before,” Jughead answered with a shrug. “But Cheryl is always in charge of decorations so probably. She’s a bit of a perfectionist so everything she does is above and beyond.” He squeezes her hand and sends her a small smile.

“Well I think it looks incredible. School dances in New Zealand are a bit more about how many guys you can get with and who can sneak in the most alcohol. They definitely don’t look like this,” she giggled, still awestruck by her surroundings.

“Just because we’ve got fake snow doesn’t mean that people aren’t trying to get drunk,” Jughead smirked.

“Of course, silly me. Guess we won’t be drinking the punch then,” she said in mock disappointment.

“Haha, we’re not that cliche. Do you want to go and find Ron and Arch and grab a seat? I don’t really know how we’re supposed to act at these things.” A shy blush reddened his cheek. Betty reached over and grabbed his other hand, forcing him to face her. “Juggie, I don’t care that you’ve never been to a school dance before, although I don’t understand why if they all look like this,” she jokes. “Just try to relax and have fun, ok?” His small smile answers her question as she lets go of one of his hands, using the other one to drag him over to where Ronnie and Arch were jumping up and down in the middle of the gym.

“I think I see a spare table over there, want me to take you scarf?” Jughead yelled to be heard over the music. Betty nodded and passed him her scarf, wishing that he would stay and dance but understanding that this wasn’t really his scene. He gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before disappearing into the crowd of students.

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

Jughead had figured he would stay at the table for the rest of the night under the guise of watching his friend’s coats but once he’d walked over to the table, the only thing he wanted to do was go back and be with Betty. She looked so beautiful tonight and he didn’t want to be away from her for another second. He spotted the metallic fabric of her dress shining from the middle of the crowd, making her look like a real life snowflake among the fairy lights and the snow. He made his way through the mess of bodies singing Wham! off key.

Wake me up before you go-go

Don’t you dare to leave me hangin’ on like a yo-yo

The raven haired boy rolled his eyes and cringed simultaneously. Of course they’re playing this at a school dance. They couldn’t possibly play music that people can listen to without having to worry about their ear drums bursting. As he was pushing through the sea of limbs, the screeching faded out, replace by a slower melody which didn’t leave Jughead wanting to stab himself repeatedly.

You’re the Northern wind

Sending shivers down my spine

You’re like fallen leaves

In an autumn night

His eyes locked with Betty’s and he was frozen for the second time that night. Jughead swore she was even more breathtaking than she had been since she saw him five minutes ago. She was the first one to move, again, gliding towards him without breaking eye contact. Betty reached her boyfriend after what felt like a lifetime, stopping only inches away from him.

“May I have this dance?” Jughead questioned with a small bow, bringing his face right in front of hers, allowing Betty to get lost in his piercing blue eyes.

“I guess you may,” she giggled into a slow curtsy before standing up and wrapping her arms around his neck. He placed his hands gently on her hips, pulling her into his chest. They started swaying back and forth in time to the ballad, eyes saying all of the words they couldn’t.

You’re the lullaby

That’s singing me to sleep

You ar the other half

You’re like a missing piece

Betty let out a small sigh, causing Jughead to pull away slightly to look down at her angelic face.

“Everything alright Betts?” Jughead’s voice was laced with worry, his brow furrowing.

“Never been better,” she replied with a smile, pulling herself back towards her boyfriend before standing up on her toes to place a soft kiss on his lips.

Fireworks. As cliche as it sounds, that’s the only word that seems to come close to describing how Jughead felt when Betty kissed him. His hands move from her waist to cup her face before he could give a second thought to where they are. Her fingers start to play with the curly hairs on the back of his neck as her smile grows wider against his lips. Betty had only kissed a couple of boys before but none of them had ever made her feel like this. Her knees were going weak with pleasure as he deepened the kiss further, his thumb slowly rubbing along her cheekbone before running through her hair.

Oh my love

You don’t know

What you do to me

Someone bumped into Betty’s back, forcing her to jump away from Jughead in shock. She blinked a few times, eyes wide, almost as if she was waking up from a dream. Jughead’s face was still warped into a warm smile at the sight of her like this; hair tousled from his touch, lipstick smudged from his lips, and eyes dark with desire. She looked different, sexy.

“After that I don’t know why I haven’t come to more school dances,” he smirked, earning him a playful punch on the arm. He rubbed with a fake frown on his face, playing along with Betty’s games.

“Trust me, it’s not always like that,” her voice dripping with desire as she stepped back into her boyfriend's, arms returning to their position around his neck in an attempt to continue dancing.

You are all four seasons

Rolled into one

You're like the cold December snow

In the warm July sun

“You really are something else Betts, you know that?” Jughead whispered as they swayed to the beat. Betty let her head rest on his chest, smiling as she remembered the first time he said those words to her. It felt like yesterday and a lifetime ago all at the same time. So much had changed in such a short amount of time but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You wanna get out of here Juggie?” Betty asked, lifting her head from his chest to meet his eyes.

“There’s nothing I’d like more,” he grinned as he reached for her hand, slowly pulling her toward the open door.

Oh my love

You don’t know

What you do to me

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

The bell over the door rang softly throughout the diner, signalling the arrival of the two new customers. Veronica and Archie slid into their usual booth across from their friends, milkshake glasses and burger wrappers already empty.

“What caused you two lovebirds to leave so early?” Ronnie asked, eyebrows raised as she stole a fry from the basket in front of Betty.

“We just weren’t really in the mood,” the blonde replied nonchalantly, flashing a knowing grin at Jughead.

“Fine, don’t tell me,” Veronica said dramatically. “We’ll have girl talk later B.” Betty’s cheeks flushed a deep shade of red at what her host sister was inferring.

“Any chance you guys are in the mood for a movie?” Said Archie, changing the subject, causing Betty to send him a grateful look.

“Do you even need to ask?” Jughead replied, already standing up to help Betty climb out of the red booth.

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

Ronnie ended up choosing ‘The Notebook’ as the movie of the night, then falling asleep ten minutes in.

“Not only is she punishing us by making us watch this overworked cliche, she doesn’t even have enough decency to stay awake and listen to me complaining,” Jughead mumbled into Betty’s ear from where he was sitting beside her.

“I’m going to let Ronnie sleep in my bed because she’ll probably kill me if I let her sleep on the couch. Don’t stay up too late Jug,” Archie called out as he started carrying his girlfriend up the stairs.

“Oh how the tables turn,” Jughead quipped, his redheaded friend laughing as he walked out of view. “So Betts,” his grin widening, “whaddya wanna watch?” He changed his voice into the awful accent Betty had only had the displeasure of hearing once before. She cringed before replying.

“Really Jug? All of this time hanging out with me and you’re still doing that awful semi-australian accent. Guess we’ll just have to talk more,” Betty said in mock disappointment and she snuggled into Jughead’s side.

“Or we could do some not talking,” he suggested playfully, leaning down to plant soft kisses on her neck.

“Jug! Stop! That tickles!” She squealed, squirming under his mouth. His eyes twinkled as his long fingers danced across her sides, leaving her giggling and squealing under him. She quickly pressed her lips up to his, surprising him into stilling his fingers. She pushed him off her and kissed him again, this time lingering long enough to take in the sweet smell that could only be described as purely Jughead. “You want to keep watching this? I can’t be bothered moving,” Betty confessed, eyes already trained on the screen.

“Anything for you Betts,” Jughead whispered into her hair before leaving a soft kiss on the top of her head. “Only for you.”

The last thing remembers seeing is Noah and Ally rowing in the rain, before closing her eyes and eventually feeling heavy tears falling on her head.

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

Fred Andrews lumbered down the stairs early in the morning, far too early to be walking around without caffeine in his system. He’d done this so many times that he stumbled through the living room with his eyes closed, reaching the kitchen and blindly reaching for the on switch on the coffee machine. The beverage was eventually hot and Fred poured half of it into his mug, taking a giant gulp before finally opening his eyes and plodding back into the living room to watch the news before he had to head off to the construction site.

He stopped in the doorway before rubbing his eyes, hard, to make sure he wasn’t still asleep. There on the couch lay Betty and Jughead, sound asleep and wrapped up in each other’s arms, both still wearing their clothes from last night. Fred rolled his eyes before turning on the tTV at full volume. Betty jumped up at the noise, bumping her head on Jughead’s chin. His eyes eyes opened slowly until he saw Fred standing over them. Betty was already sitting up, hands smoothing the front of her dress and trying to tame her hair discreetly.

“Morning guys. How was the dance?” Fred asked the pair nonchalantly, taking another gulp of coffee from the steaming mug in his hand.

“It was um, it was good thanks.” Jughead said nervously, running a hand through his hair and wishing he was wearing his beanie. “Hey, um look, Fred, about all this-”

“Jug, calm down. I’m not gonna ground you or anything but just be careful ok? Don’t rush into anything you’re not ready for.” Betty’s face had turned the colour of Archie’s hair and Jughead was shifting uncomfortably in his seat. “Anyways, by the looks of you two that was punishment enough so I’m just gonna head off to work. Oh, and we’re out of milk.” Fred left his coffee mug on the coffee table and was grabbing his coat as the door opened slowly. Archie stepped through it, closing it softly to reduce the sound of the lock closing. He tiptoed towards the stairs as his dad turned the corner, slamming right into him. “Oh hey Dad, um , I was just, um, at the store, ah, getting some milk for breakfast.”

Jughead chuckled from his spot on the couch, noting how stupid Archie’s lie was considering it was five in the morning and he was still wearing his tuxedo from the night before. Fred obviously noted his son’s attire, and his lack of milk, before letting out a huge sigh and walking out the door. Archie looked at the giggling pair on the couch.

“What?”