#there’s just a different level of movement from ben cook

[enter-drfrog]

One thing I’ve learned through my years of consuming live theatre and bootlegs of live theatre is that you can almost always tell when someone used to be a Newsie.

They always have this like indescribable quality about how they move even compared to other incredibly well trained dancers. I think it’s just because Newsies is such an insane, other level caliber of dance that it just brings them to another quality of movement.

I don’t know how to describe it. I just know that whenever I watch something the Newsie always stands out.

[ampmiscfiles]

Let Us Love You: Chapter 8

Start at the beginning

Bucky watched with a thoughtful expression as Peter left. There was no denying the omega hadn't looked at him quite like he had before.

He looked......unsure.

He debated on letting the others know, but he didn't have to say anything.

"That was interesting." Natasha said, eyebrows raised.

"What was?" Steve asked, turning from where Karen had walked off.

"Bucky and Peter." she answered.

The three other alphas snapped to attention.

"What about them?" Thor pushed.

"We just made eye contact. She's making something out of nothing." Bucky said, rolling his eyes.

"There was something different in that look." Natasha said, crossing her arms.

"I don't see why this is such a big deal. We all know he was close to the version of me in his world. He damn near shuts down every time he sees me. You'd be better off ignoring what you saw. It wasn't me he was looking at." Bucky glared before stomping off.

"Was it really a big deal?" Steve asked, looking at Natasha carefully. "I mean, Buck's not wrong. Peter had a connection with his version, it really could just be that."

"Oh, it's definitely a little bit of that. I could see it. He misses him. Most likely it's the same with Sam. Still, he knew he wasn't looking at his Barnes. He was trying to seen him in ours though."

"Perhaps this is a good thing." Thor hummed. "If we can convince him to talk to our friend Barnes, then he could see ours is the same as his!"

"That might work in theory, big guy," Tony nodded. "But how do you propose to get close enough to Peter to suggest it? How would you suggest it?"

"It's not a bad idea. I think Peter wants to talk to him, but our other selves have left a serious impression on him." Natasha said, moving to follow where Bucky had gone. "Let's go. We need to do a little brainstorming."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Welcome to my awesome abode. I'd be glad to show you around. Maybe you'd like to see the inside of my bedroom?" Johnny winked, opening the door wide for Peter to enter.

"I've literally been here multiple times. I think I can get around just fine." Peter smirked. "Plus, I've seen your bedroom. It's a disaster."

"You've seen theother me'sroom. I can assure you thatmineis ready for company."

"I bet it is." Peter rolled his eyes. "Where is everyone?"

"In the kitchen. Come on, I'll win you over with my co-"

"You can't cook." Peter snorted.

"You don't know that!"

"What are we having?"

"It's.......um..."

"Exactly." Peter laughed, passing Johnny and heading towards the kitchen.

"Are you sure we're just friends? I feel like there's something between us."

"Yeah, a mutual respect for giving each other shit."

"You know, I think you're ignoring the fact I'm a different Johnny Storm here." Johnny pouted, crossing his arms.

"No. You're still the same idiot." Peter chuckled, flicking his forehead.

"I'll have you know, I'm a highly sought-after alpha. Everyone wants a piece of this." he gestured to his whole body.

"I bet. I had to fight the crowd of screaming fangirls just to get in here." Peter deadpanned.

The truth was, Johnny was every bit as good looking in this universe as he had been in Peter's. Still, just as he retained his looks here, he also retained his extreme level of self-confidence.

"I'll win you over yet, Parker."

"Uh hu. Sure. Just don't hold your breath."

Peter would never admit he had once had a major crush on his own Johnny.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Peter!" Reed smiled as he and Johnny entered the kitchen.

Sue smiled as she looked up from pulling a pan of lasagna out of the oven.

"Hello, Peter. Everything is almost done. Why don't you all go join Ben."

"Yes! I have so ma-"

"Reed." Sue warned. "He only just got here."

"It's ok, really." Peter smiled.

"I was used to this." he said, motioning between him and Reed.

"Let's talk then. I'm curious about your story. The multiverse isn't a common topic I get to discuss!"

"Well, I can't tell you you're gonna like most of what I have to say. Still, it's great to see you guys again." Peter smiled, genuinely happy to see the family of four back together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Heard we missed all the fun." Clint called, stepping off the elevator with his bags. "You guys couldn't have waited?"

"Sure. Next time we'll ask the killer robot army to hang on and let our other team mates get back from their impromptu vacation." Tony huffed.

"You all seem in a better mood than when we left. Something happen?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow at others.

The alphas were gathered in the common area talking eagerly amongst themselves.

"Yes." Thor smiled widely. "We have decided to properly court our omega. We shall return to the old ways."

"Who says romance is dead?" Tony grinned. "We're gonna woo the hell out of him!”

"This should be fun." Sam deadpanned.

“Oh ye of little faith. We're an extremely romantic bunch when let loose.” Tony scoffed.

“The guy couldn’t be more clear on his desire not to be your omega.”

“We’ve been talking to Karen and each other. Slow and steady wins the race and all that.”

“I think we made it back in perfect time then!” Clint grinned, opening his bag. “Brought some of Laura and the kids’ things. They missed you guys.”

Clint passed out the few items he had brought from his home. The scents of Laura and the three kids extended into the room. The calm of knowing their distant pack members were safe settled the atmosphere.

“We’ll get out to see them soon.” Natasha smiled, rubbing the small stuffed bunny she knew belonged to Nathaniel.

“We may even get to introduce them to Peter.” Steve said, a hopeful lit in his voice.

“Please don’t push that on him.” Bruce sighed. “It’s going to be enough on him dealing with you all, much less integrating into a full pack.”

“We are fully prepared to take it slow with our young omega.” Thor smiled.

The four other alphas nodded in agreement. There was no other option really. Sam was right in his statement that Peter seemed to want nothing to do with them, but Peter's conflict over Bucky had revived their hopes.

Maybe it wasn't such a lost cause after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Your universe sucked.” Johnny scoffed from his seat next to Peter.

“I don’t always get along with Stark, but it’s deeply upsetting to hear about a version of him that was so violent.” Reed frowned, taking his own seat.

“I just can’t picture any of them being like that.” Sue agreed.

“Well, good thing ours arn’t like that. Not sure I could clobber them all at once.” Ben huffed.

Peter listened as the four voiced their opinions of the Avengers.To be honest, he was getting a little sick and tired of everyone telling him how wonderful they were.

They were wonderful in his world at once too!Everyone loved them and practically worshipped them!

Truth be told, there was no real understanding of the change. It wasn’t like anyone was opposing them. Who would? The Avengers risked their lives to help people, to keep them safe. Why would they evenneedto change?

Not that it mattered. They did change. They went from saving people tohurtingthem. They lorded their power over the people, and gleefully killed those who posed any real threat.

They were monsters!

Peter absently ran his hand along his thigh where he knew a long scar sat. A memorial to a particularly brutal up close fight with Black Widow. She had managed to stun him with her widow bites, slowing him down enough to prevent an unharmed escape. It could have been much worse, he knew, but he got lucky in where the bites had hit him.

She had been aiming for a fatal blow.

His movement had saved him from a slow death, but the blade had torn practically through to the bone in his thigh. If Bucky hadn’t shown up, she would have finished the job. As it was, he was out of commission for two weeks before the wound had healed, feeling had returned, and the leg moved without stiffness.

God, the blood she had spilt.

“Peter?”

Peter startled out of his thoughts to find the four looking at him.

“Sorry.” he mumbled. “I can get lost in thought sometimes.”

“Well, I’m more than willing to help you with that.” Johnny grinned, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Oh I know you can. You always could bore me right to sleep.” Peter snarked.

The others laughed and began passing around the food as Johnny pouted.

"So, you said there are no second genders where you're from?" Sue asked, curious as to how Peter was handling the change.

"No, we definitely didn't have alphas, betas, and omegas where I'm from. It was.....surprising to say the least." Peter winced.

"Well, you seem to be doing alright as a beta." Reed smiled.

"Beta?" Peter raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. Your scent is barely there. Beta scents are generally muted. Yours seems a little more so. Maybe it's because you weren't originally from here. Do you not know your second gender though, or did you think you hadn't gained one?" Sue frowned.

"I would have figured Matt and Karen would have explained things to you."

Peter looked around the table, unconsciously touching his wrist where one of the patches sat under his sleeve and web shooter.

"No," Peter hesitated. "They did, I.....I'm just still adjusting it all. I mean, I lived 26 years without all this, so it's easy to forget sometimes."

Ben, Sue, and Reed nodded, striking back up light conversation and more questions about himself and how he was getting along. Out the corner of his eye, Peter couldn't ignore the strange look Johnny kept giving him.

"So, what are you going by if you can't be a Parker?" Ben asked, drawing Peter's thoughts away from Johnny.

"Jones." Peter sighed.

"Any relation to Jessica Jones?" Reed asked.

"Yeah." Peter huffed. "Everyone thought they were so funny when they decided to make me Jessica's cousin."

"What's funny about that?" Sue frowned. "Did the two of you date back in your world?"

"Not hardly." Peter laughed.

"No, they just thought my initials were a nice joke.They left my first and middle name then changed my last."

"What's your name then?"

"My name is Peter Benjamin Par...err, Jones. Peter Benjamin Jones."

"I'm sure you'd make a delicious sandwich." Johnny snorted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A few hours had passed before Peter noticed the time. He had been enjoying himself while getting acquainted with this version of the Four. They were practically identical to his, making connecting with them extremely easy.

“Well, I guess I better get going. Karen’s a worrier.”

“Don’t let Matt fool you, Peter,” Sue smirked. “He’s a worrier too with people he cares about. I saw you two talking.”

“Matt was the first person I went to after I got here. I was good friends with him.” Peter smiled.

He was happy to have Matt and Karen, and to be gathering back all the people he lost, but Ben, May, Bucky and Sam were never far from his mind. The people he wanted most were the people he’d never get.

After promising to visit again, and give a demonstration of his strength levels compared to Ben's, Johnny led Peter out.

"So, Pete," Johnny started, unusually hesitant compared to his normal composure.

"The others didn't press, but I'm going to. You're an omega, aren't you?"

Peter blinked in surprise. He had yet to have to admit his second gender to anyone on his own yet. Everyone who knew, had either discovered from his scent, or been told by someone else.

"I could see the scent patch occasionally when your sleeve moved up and your, whatever those are on your wrists, shifted."

Peter swallowed hard, not missing the fact Johnny had moved into his space.

"I...uh.."

"It's ok, Pete." Johnny smirked, stepping back. "I'm not going to blab your secret. I am, however, going to knock you off your feet! You'll give in to me yet, Jones."

"I don't think you want to try, Storm." Peter replied, breathing a little easier as Johnny's alpha pheromones calmed.

"Why? Do you already have an alpha? I just don't see any mating marks."

Mating marks?

Peter frowned. He hadn't heard of any 'mating marks'. Was there more he had to learn? Maybe he should keep blowing Karen's lessons off.

"No. I don't have an alpha, and I'm not interested in one." Peter narrowed his eyes.

"Fair enough." Johnny smiled, holding up his hands in surrender. "But that doesn't mean I won't keep trying."

Peter sighed. While he wasn't about to let Johnny Storm in on his alpha problem, he couldn't forget how the Avengers had reacted to Wade when they realized the two were hanging out together.

Deadpool hadn't been in any real danger since he could easily regenerate, but Johnny couldn't.

If anything Karen had already told him had gotten through, it was that alphas could be possessive. He had already seen it in action, and the Avengers were anything but normal alphas.

Still, he wasn't going to let that stop him from hanging around people he actually trusted.

They would just have to deal.

If they couldn't, and tried to hurt his friends, he'd be ready.

As he made his way back toward Matt and Karen's, he didn't even notice how his thoughts on the Avengers had changed from "when", to "if".

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You smell like Johnny Storm." Karen frowned when he walked through the door.

"Hello Karen. I see your fine after today's events. My dinner with the Four was great. If was nice to catch up. Thanks for asking."

"Don't sass me, Peter Jones." Karen glared, following him to his room, passing a smirking Matt along the way.

"What if you had run into your alphas? You're unmated and smelling of an alpha that's not one of them! Even worse that it's Johnny with his flirty reputation."

"I'm not avoiding friends just becausetheymight not like it, Karen!" Peter shouted, turning around with his own glare.

"They don't own me and never will. I don't want them! I don't trust them! It doesn't matter what everyone else thinks of them. I can't stand them!"

"Peter, please," Karen tried.

"No. This discussion is over Karen. I'm never going to be with the Avengers. It's not happening."

"You won't even give them a chance!" Karen shouted, her frustration rising. "You're so hell bent on seeing them as the same villains they were in your world that you refuse to see them as the heroes they are here! This isn't your old world, Peter! You can't keep hanging on to what happened there. You're here now!"

The two glared at each other, neither wanting to admit defeat.

"You don't know what you're talking about Karen. You have no idea what I've been through."

"I have a damn good idea, Peter! You've made no effort to hide your disdain for them. You have no problems admitting what those other Avengers did to you. I know it's left physical as well as mental scars, but did you ever stop and think that maybe getting to know these Avengers could help you heal?"

There was complete silence as Karen's words hung in the air.

"Getting to know them and seeing they're who you wish your Avengers had been could be good for you. You could finally relax a little and try to move on. You've been here for months now Peter, and yet you still hold everything from your past so close it's like it all happened yesterday."

Karen sighed, running her hand through her hair.

"We're all still here, Peter. Nothing has happened to any of us and they've had more than enough opportunity to hurt us if they wanted to. They've had plenty of chances to kill the others and make it look like a casualty of a fight and no one would question it, but they haven't. They haven't, and you need to realize and accept it."

Without another word, Karen turned and headed into her and Matt's bedroom, slamming the door behind her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Anger rippling under his skin, Peter left the apartment and headed towards Luke's bar. Maybe he could find something there to keep himself busy.

Anything to get his mind off his....whatever that was, with Karen.

Shoving his way into the back door, the sounds from the front filtered in through his ears. The place was at peek hour.

"I swear, if one more asshole-Peter?"

Peter looked over as Luke stormed into the back, grabbing a bucket and mop.

"Rough night?" Peter asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, it's gonna be for the shit that just broke a beer bottle over a guy's head. They're both about to clean up their little mess, then get thrown out on their asses." Luke grumbled, kicking the door back open and shouting.

Peter decided to hang out in the back, letting Luke handle things before making his way up front.

"Get out here, Jones." Luke snapped, sticking his head back through the door. "Make yourself useful and come serve some drinks."

Grinning, Peter slid his way behind the bar and got to work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was slowing down to the more, quieter patrons of the night. These were the people Peter liked the most. While the more boisterous crowd could be fun, they could also be annoying and demanding. Some even tried to get a little handsy, over the bar.

This crowd though, this was crowd was just looking for a little break from the world.

Peter heard someone sit at the bar while he was crouched, placing glasses back into their places. Rubbing his hands on his pants, he stood up to greet the customer and....froze.

Sam Wilson stared back, as equally surprised to see him.

The two just stared at each other, neither knowing how to react.

"Hey, Pete-" Luke stopped as he took in what was happening.

He wasn't quite sure what to do, and it didn't appear as if Peter or Sam knew either. Had it been any of the alphas, Luke would have easily jumped in, knowing how stressed Peter would be.

Sam wasn't an alpha though.

“Let me start by saying your secret is safe with me.” Sam said. “I’m pretty burnt out on alpha desperation at this point. I just want to have a drink and enjoy it.”

Peter stared at him a moment before moving forward.

“What would you like?”

“Whatever you recommend.”

Peter looked at him again. Guess Sam was willing to trust his judgement in drinks in any universe.

Sam nodded as Peter slid a glass across the counter top and took a swig.

“I hope we’re not gonna spend the entire time in here in this strange, tense silence.”

Peter sighed.

“This isn’t....this isn’t easy for me.”

“I’ve gotten that impression. I also heard you were close to your world’s Bucky and I.”

“Y...yeah.” Peter frowned. “By the end, they were my best friends.....they were all I had left.”

The two were silent again as Peter busied himself with meaningless tasks.

“I’m sorry this is happening to you.” Sam said suddenly. “I think I would have reacted the same way.”

Peter stood with his back to Sam, debating on his next move.

Finally, he turned.

“You’re a lot like him, well, when he wasn’t giving me shit anyway.” Peter chuckled.

“Oh, I can give you shit if that’s what you’re looking for spider boy.” Sam grinned.

Peter grinned back, strangely comfortable in this Sam’s presence.

Maybe all Sam’s were pretty much the same.

“Look. I know you’re probably willing to talk to me like thishere. I can see Cage keeping an eye on you, but I think, if we got along in your world, we could get along here.”

Peter hesitated, the since of unease returning.

“I’m not trying to hand you over to the wolves!” Sam said quickly. “I’m more so trying to offer up another friendship. One that gets me away from everyone at the tower and one that offers you.....” Sam hesitated, unsure if he should continue.

“Maybe something that offers you a bit of what you lost?”

Peter’s eyes widened in surprise. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of this Sam’s offer. As much as he missed his own, and as similar as the two seemed, could he really ever think of this Sam as a friend on par with his?

“I...um...”

“You don’t have to answer me now.” Sam assured. “Maybe just think about it. I realize I’m part of the enemy here, but I promise I’m not a bad guy.”

“Yeah.” Peter snorted. “You’re not trying to get into my pants.”

“You do realize there’s more to it than that, right?”

“I’m not really interested.” Peter replied. “You don’t know what it was like to see them hurt people. To see them kill you and Bucky.”

“I’d offer up the argument that these Avengers haven’t done that considering Bucky and I are clearly still alive, but I have the feeling you’ve heard that line enough.”

“That obvious?”

“From five words in.”

Peter let out a breath, running his hand through his hair. It was hard having someone who looked like his lost friend be so close, and yet so far.

"I'll share a secret with you, kid." Sam grinned, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

This caught Peter's attention as he leaned onto the bar.

"There are three betas in the tower. Me, Clint and Bruce-"

"I...I like Dr. Banner." Peter mumbled.

"What?" Sam asked, unsure he had heard right.

"I....I like Dr. Banner. He.......he had it hard in my world. Hulk is a force to be reckoned with. He can be easily enraged to the point that even the intelligence he does have can be quickly over written. When the Avengers...turned.....they held him hostage. Bruce was far to gentle in nature to side with them, so they held him captive, using Hulk against him. They'd do whatever they could to bring out Hulk, then set him loose on the city."

Sam sat in stunned silence. He could never imagine putting Bruce Banner through that kind of torment. Bruce struggled with balancing himself as both separate and part of Hulk.

"I wanted to free him. Tried several times, but it never worked. They kept him in an underground bunker beneath the tower. I only saw him once. I'm not even sure how I managed to make it that far. I've never forgotten how defeated, miserable and pained he looked inside that glass cage they kept him in."

"Glass doesn't sound like it would hold-"

"Oh, it was 'Hulk proof'." Peter hissed. "Before things went bad, Bruce and Tony created it to contain him if things got to bad and he needed somewhere safe to be until he returned back to himself."

"They used his own creation against him." Sam sighed, running his hand down his face. "Guess that explains why you didn't do anything to Bruce that day."

"I told Matt and Karen it was because he let me out. I'm telling you the truth because you live with them and need to know what they're capable of doing."

"If it makes you feel any better," Sam started. "We don't have a Hulk room or cage or anything."

Peter narrowed his eyes.

"Serious!" Sam defended. "Bruce comes and goes just like the rest of us. He pretty much stays at the tower though. We don't have many instances where the Hulk is needed, but Bruce's medical training comes in handy a lot. Even stepped up a notch when you showed up." Sam snickered.

"Are you.....enjoying me hurting them?" Peter asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Immensely. Clint and I, don't tell him I agree with him, think it's amazing."

Peter didn't stop the upturn of his lip at Sam's grin.

"Omega's don't typically kick their alpha's asses on the regular. I mean, I've heard of those mutant omegas at Xavier's going out and fighting, but I've never seen them do it in person. You, on the other hand, I have watched fling every alpha on the team around like rag dolls. It's humbling really."

Sam's laughter filled the small space between him and Peter.

"Well, I do have a history of fighting the hierarchy." Peter smiled.

"Tell you what," Sam said, holding out his hand. "Let's start fresh. No alternate identities. Just two guys meeting at a bar. I'm Sam Wilson."

Peter looked at the outstretched hand and up at Sam's face. His spider-sense remained, as it had the entire time, silent. Slowly, Peter took the outstretched hand.

"Peter Jones."

Sam raised and eyebrow.

"Doesn't surprise me." Peter rolled his eyes. "Of course you'd all know my real name."

"Why change it?"

"Because a version of me existed here at one time." Peter replied, looking away. "I can't be Peter Parker when he's dead."

"I guess not one that looks just like him." Sam nodded. "I'm guessing there's also family then?"

"Yeah." Peter replied, not willing to say more.

"Alright then, Peter Jones, it was nice to meet you. I better be getting back home though." Sam smiled, standing up and taking his jacket off the back of the chair.

"You'll cover that for me, right?"

Peter looked down where Sam nodded at the empty glass.

"No way Wilson."

"To think, I wanted to be nice to you." Sam said, pulling some bills out of his pocket.

"There's no such thing as free alcohol, man." Peter grinned.

"Then what's the point of being friends with the bartender?"

"The fabulous company?"

"I know that's what you get, I'm still trying to figure out what I'm getting." Sam smirked.

"I'll tell you what, this time." Peter's grinned turned wicked. "You'll get to keep a place you can go where the other Avengers can never bother you. I'll personally see to their exits if they ever show up."

Sam barked out a laugh as he straightened out his jacket.

"Well, if they ever show up, it won't be because of me. With that said, I appreciate your willingness to uphold the sanctity of my sacred drinking hole."

The two nodded at each other as Sam walked out the door, followed shortly after by the last of Luke's customers.

"You ok?" Luke asked as he restocked the bar while Peter swept.

"Surprisingly, yeah. Dealing with just Sam was way different than the others."

"Well, being a beta probably helps." Luke shrugged, not wanting to verbally address the other issues.

"Maybe." Peter nodded.

"You worried you'll have more 'customers'?" Luke asked after a moment. "I can't exactly say I can ban the Avengers..."

"No." Peter said, looking up at Luke. "I'm actually not."

Luke stopped and raised an eyebrow.

"You do realize-"

"I don't think he'll tell. Not them anyway. Maybe Barton and Dr. Banner, but not them."

"Well, I heard about Banner, but what about Barton. What's the feelings on him?"

Peter stopped sweeping, letting his thoughts gather themselves.

"He was just as ruthless as the others in my world. Tony made him explosive arrows. He caused so much damage with those. Lots of innocent people lost their homes and their lives. I don't trust him any more than the others."

Peter's face turned stony as he thought about the archer.

"He shot me in the back once. Went right through my right side."

"He did what?" Luke growled, walking from behind the bar and over to Peter.

"Yeah, right here." Peter said, lifting his shirt and tracing the scar on the side of his stomach, then moving to the part on his back.

Luke looked at the two scars, not missing a few others as well.

"Jesus, kid."

"I keep trying to tell you all. The Avengers can't be trusted this blindly! They could turn at any moment, and you could end up with the same scars as me......or worse."

Luke frowned as he watched Peter try to keep his breathing calm. He wasn't sure Peter having contact with Sam was a good idea anymore. It didn't matter what intentions the man had, being around him definitely opened Peter up to chances of having to see the other members of the team.

"I worry though, that I'm letting positive memories of Sam cloud my judgement here." Peter sighed. "I'm worried desperation for that connection is taking over."

"You can always keep to meeting here. You never have to meet him anywhere you don't want to." Luke shrugged. "I know you're tired of hearing it kid, so I'll save a lot of it."

Peter frowned, unsure of exactly what Luke was going to say.

"I don't have a problem with the Avengers, but I'm also not you. I don't have your past, so my opinion means nothing. Sam though, Sam's not an alpha. He's a beta with no romantic interest in you. I don't think it would be a big deal to consider the option of some form of friendship with him. Shit on the others if you don't want to."

Peter didn't know what to say. He was genuinely worried as to what accepting Sam's offer might lead to. The worst scenarios running through the forefront of his mind. Still, the possible benefits kept pushing their way in.

"I'll think about it.

[nanagoswife]

For You? Always.

Chapter Eleven

Summary: Some soft moments with Ben before leaving for work...

W/C: 3.7k

Warnings: angst, indirect? mentions of sexual assault

<<Previous, Next>>

Ben placed a soft kiss on your forehead that gently pulled you back into consciousness. It lingered until your eyelids fluttered open, a smile spreading your lips. He greeted you with his own warm smile as he brushed any loose hair from your face.

A strong feeling of fondness had filled him as he gazed into your eyes. You let your hand gently fall onto his cheek, the same feeling flowing through your heart.

You buried yourself into his chest, wanting to be surrounded in his comfort. To enhance this, he wrapped his arms around you back and pulled you in just the slightest bit more.

You wished that you could've stayed like this all day, but you had things to do. You had to prepare for the next two weeks.

Reluctantly, you pulled yourself from his warm comfort and met his eyes. Like most mornings, his hair was a wild mess. It was a sight that you would never tire of.

Asking if he wanted coffee, he hummed in confirmation. Taking a moment longer to admire him, you got up to go prepare it. Ben had thought of playfully pulling you back in for a kiss before you left, but he had decided against it, fearing it would bring back painful memories. So, instead, he let you go.

So, he turned over onto his back. He placed his hand over his eyes to rub them before he felt your hand slide over his chest followed by your soft lips making contact with his. His hand switched from his eyes to holding the side of your face while he leaned in more with a grin.

Pulling back, you made your way to the door to start the coffee. All you had to do was pour the grinds in and then start the machine as you always prepared it again after every morning. It made everything easier and quicker for the days that it was needed most. Today, you felt, was one of those days.

A few moments later, you heard Ben walk out of your room. You kept your attention ahead of you as you prepared a replacement filter that would be put in for tomorrow. Ben stepped up behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders, and placed a reposeful kiss to your cheek.

Carefully, he moved his arms to wrap around you to meet at the front. Ben made sure that, if you had any negative reactions, he would pull away.

You only slightly tensed. Ben did notice this. Adjusting, he made his movements more gentle. Lastly, he placed his chin on your shoulder as he watched your swift movements.

When you had tensed at his tender movements, you chastised yourself. It didn't last long as you let yourself revel in the tender moment.

“How’d you sleep?” you said quietly, as you both were still a little groggy.

Ben grunted, the vibration sending a tingle through your shoulder, “Pretty good once I actually fell asleep.”

A giggle escaped you from the feeling of Ben talking on your shoulder, but confusion set in. “You weren’t able to fall asleep right away?”

“I had a few things that were running through my mind.” Even though you knew what thoughts probably kept him up, you let it go. There were other matters to deal with. The first being the coffee as it made the telltale sound that meant it was ready.

Already having the cups ready, you poured the coffees including the cream and sugar. Ben let out a small, “oh,” of surprise as you prepared his cup the way he liked it. This was the first time you got his cup ready. “How did you know?”

“I’m observant and a quick learner. Helps that my first job was a barista.”

“Ah,” Ben said, "I remember. What was that place called again?”

It was a task to remember the name. The cafe you had worked at was popular, but it had been so long since you’ve even just visited there. It also didn't help that it was located on the other side of the city.

“If I remember correctly, Hello There Cafe.”

Ben smiled and gave a slight chuckle at the memory. “Oh, yes. That's right. It was in the best area of town.”

“I still remember seeing you in your sweater vests and glasses as you studied like a madman.” This time, you gave a slight chuckle as you saw his eyes widen in the corner of your eye.

His face turned red in embarrassment at the memory, “Yes, that was me.” You laughed at the thought of it. That kid from all those years ago looked so different from the man that stood here, holding you in his arms with his head on your shoulder. “I’ll admit, I was not the most sociable person back then.”

“Well, the only talking you did, until we learned it by heart, was your order of hot chocolate with whipped cream and occasionally a scone, or muttering to yourself as you did your work.”

Ben had laughed as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh goodness, you actually remember that?”

That was far from the only thing that you remembered. There was so much that had you admiring him often. Instead of telling him that, you settled on, “You were only our most frequent visitor. Say, what ever happened to those reading glasses?”

“My newer, better looking pair, if I may add, is actually at my apartment. I don’t wear them often anymore.” Gazing into his eyes, you tried to imagine him with his glasses, but you laughed as you thought of him with his old ones.

Turning in his arms, you handed him his cup of coffee, putting your hand on his cheek as he smiled, “Well, I would like to see you in glasses again. I think you'd look just as handsome as you do now.”

There was no keeping the giggle you had from coming out as you watched him blush.

Then you thought of something else to ask, “What did you think of me?” Maybe this would help you gauge whether or not you should confess everything else.

“What? The one who always had some sort of clothing or accessory that was blue?” Nodding, you were surprised he knew that. It was something you had prided yourself for no one noticing, until now. “To be honest, I really liked you. The smile you always had, that you still have, always helped raise my spirits.”

Something creeped up in you. A realization that he remembered just as many details from those days that you did. That small, insignificant detail, though, showed that he remembered the odd things like you had.

“Is that why you seemed to be so nervous to meet me the first day you started?” Ben’s face grew red in embarrassment once again.

Rubbing his neck again, he admitted, “Yeah. Honestly, I kind of kept tabs of what you were doing. I was happy to see your success. Then-” His sentence cut off, not knowing what to say next.

“Then you were offered a job in the same company?” Ben nodded, confirming your guess as fact.

Even though you didn't really know him in high school, you were always strangely drawn to him. There were few times that you had actually talked, yet you had school and the cafe that allowed you to get to know him. Did he do the same with you?

"You said that you liked me in highschool," you started after a moment. "In what way?"

It was almost as if he were expecting this question. There was no surprise, but a soft smirk. "I had a crush on you," he replied innocently. "I took every moment to... I guess you could say, study you. In class, any interactions, the cafe. It was the only way I could get to know you without getting in trouble from..." he trailed off. You knew who he was referring to.

So, he had done exactly what you had.

"I did too," you said, almost in a whisper as you looked at the ground.

Ben brought your eyes back to his by gently lifting your chin with a finger. You watched as he was trying to formulate words as he undoubtedly remembered something you had said the night before.

"Was I the one you mentioned. W-when you said there was someone who made you rethink?"

"Yes."

For a hot second, you thought that it would push Ben away. Why would it, though? It's not like it happened yesterday.

Instead, he only gave you a comforting smile before it fell and he turned his head away. You knew he was now thinking of how he was the reason for your dark night.

"Hey," you said, bringing his face back while cupping his cheek. "It wasn't your fault. It was my decision to tell him. He didn't know it was you."

That seemed to comfort him a bit. The sadness in his eyes drained as they looked into yours. The morning light made the blue of his eyes look more beautiful than before. Well, maybe not as much as the light of the moon, but it met that level.

Breaking out of your thoughts, you became aware of the silence that had taken place. Lifting your eyes from your blank stare, you met the shy look in Ben’s eyes as he once again rubbed the back of his neck to soothe his embarrassment as he noticed your wonderment.

“Well,” you said, stepping closer to him and placing your hands on his chest, “I’m glad we’re together now.” Ben laughed, more like a huff of relief, agreeing. “I do want to ask, do you still wear sweater vests?”

Laughing once again, he managed the answer of, “Not much, but I do have a few, which I almost never wear.” Smiling, you gave him a quick kiss.

"Maybe we'll bring them back," you said with a cheeky smile.

-

The rest of the day was spent getting ready for the next few weeks, the time being actually enjoyable with Ben’s company. Not only did he talk with you, but he provided entertainment, making you laugh throughout the afternoon.

Unlike when you were at his apartment, you actually had food to make for the day. Refusing to let you do it, Ben was the one who made lunch and dinner. Considering the fact that he almost always went somewhere for food, Ben was a pretty good cook. Today: grilled cheese for lunch and spaghetti and meatballs for dinner.

Though spaghetti's a common dish, he found your spices and added a few of them in, making it taste better than you ever imagined. As you were busy packing your clothes during the process, you didn’t get to see what he did and he wouldn’t tell you. He had even put everything back in a way that you couldn't tell what he used.

At one point, Derek had finally sent you the name of the author you were visiting. When you had told Ben, it seemed like he had heard the name before, but you didn't ask. There were so many people he had met, you wouldn't be surprised if he at least heard of them.

Of the whole day, the only time Ben had left your proximity was to make a phone call. Every other moment was spent no more than a room apart where you were still able to talk to each other or he would just follow you.

He made the day so much better, making dread for the next day build up as it went on. Putting your mind at ease was his assurance that he would be ready for your phone calls every day.

By the time the next morning rolled around, you were woken by your alarm. Ben had let out a groan of irritation at the sound. You struggled to open your eyes as it was far earlier than you were used to getting up. The blaring alarm stung your ears which made you hurry to turn it off.

“Is it really that time already? It’s still dark outside,” Ben said as he pulled the blanket over his head. The grumble in his voice made you laugh while you massaged your eyes before opening them.

“Unfortunately, yes. I’ll go make coffee.” He brought the covers away from his face, squinting when you turned your lamp on.

Starting to move forward, he grabbed your arm, causing your heartbeat to quicken while slightly flinching, “No, you stay here to rest and get ready. I’ll deal with that.” You opened your mouth but Ben cut in before you spoke, “Don’t worry, I’ll set it back up the way you usually have it.” The quickened heartbeat had dulled back down while telling yourself that he wouldn’t hurt you.

What you didn’t know was that Ben saw your flinch but hid what he knew. When he had closed the door to the room behind him, he dropped his shoulders in shame. He never wanted to do anything to cause a reaction like that, but this gap of memory had just brought it up. Thankfully, you had smiled at him before he left the room.

The fact that you had packed the night before and had everything lined up at the door made you thank yourself. If you had to do that at this moment, you would feel way too stressed. Thankfully, you had even laid out an outfit to wear as well, making the morning routine even faster than it already was.

A few minutes after you had gone into the bathroom, you could smell the rich scent of the medium roast that was filtering. It made you long for a sip, to taste the drink that helped you power through the early hours of a day.

Ben was still in the process of preparing the cups when you left your room. He smiled at you while you walked over to the couch, grabbed the book that was on the coffee table, and started to read after getting comfortable.

While you read, Ben carefully made his way with your coffees to make sure he wouldn’t spill them. He placed yours on the table and sat next to you on the couch. Peering over, he scanned over the words in curiosity.

“That’s a great book,” he said in a hushed tone, so as to not distract you too much. It had piqued your own curiosity though.

“Why am I not surprised that you’ve read this?” you said this as best you could through a short laugh.

Sitting up straight, he pretended to look posh and regal, “I happen to be an avid book reader in my spare time.” He said this with a mock upper-class British accent that made you laugh. Not only was the accent funny, but his exaggerated facial expression sold it even more. Bringing his hand up, he mimed fixing a monocle.

Ben’s witty motions made you laugh so hard that tears were forming in your eyes. Just to be safe, you put the bookmark back into the book. It took you a few moments to collect yourself from the hilarity.

Usually, you had thought, you wouldn’t have had that sort of reaction, but the lack of sleep was probably why. Wiping the tears from your eyes, you picked up your mug and took a sip to try and calm yourself down.

Ben had only watched your reaction in great amusement. To himself, he chuckled at the delightful reaction you had. He was scared you weren’t going to even find what he did funny, but he was dead wrong. The way you had laughed had brought a brightness to his heart and uninfluenced energy to his mind.

Now, as he gazed at you trying to contain yourself, he felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time. Before he could act upon it, you looked at your watch to realize that you needed to be quicker with your time. Ben’s heart sank as he knew it was that time. He wished he could have a little more time.

Sadly, though, you had to be ready for Derek’s arrival to head to the airport. Ben had gone to get his stuff together while you finished your coffee and got a few last minute things done.

When Ben came back out of your room, he placed his bag by the door. He approached you, “Well, I guess I should go before Derek gets here.” Despite what you actually felt, you nodded. “I’ll talk to you later?” he said as if he didn’t already know the answer.

This time, you nodded with more enthusiasm and placed your arms around his neck. “Of course.” Slowly, you both leaned in for a bittersweet kiss.

“I’ll see you in two weeks,” Ben said as he stepped back and took his bag in his hand.

You stepped toward him again, "I love you," you whispered against his lips. You wished he could come to the airport to see you off, but he had to go to work.

Smiling, he pressed his lips to yours. "I love you too," he said against your lips before pulling away. Giving one last smile, he left.

Loneliness creeped in with knowing you would go these next weeks without seeing anyone you’re close to. You were good friends with Derek, but he was your boss and you maintained a relatively professional relationship.

Derek had arrived not much longer after Ben had left. He offered to take your suitcase to let you get settled in the front passenger seat of his car. His wife, Emma, was in the backseat. She was there to drive the car back home after you were dropped off at the airport.

Both you and Emma talked with each other regularly. When you had first been promoted to your current position, you had met her at a party that Derek had invited you to. The two of you got along very well and continued to talk ever since. Occasionally, you would have a little fun together and joke around about some things Derek did.

While you had waited for Derek to finish up, you and Emma managed a small hug in the limited area between the two front seats.

“I heard you finally have someone more important in your life,” Emma said, starting the conversation.

Smiling, you told her a brief description of Ben. Since Derek was one to share all the dealings he has at work with Emma, you knew you didn’t have to say that he works with you. Emma listened intently with a smile on her face.

“He sounds like a good one,” she said when you had finished. Derek had finally finished his tampering with the suitcases in the back and took his place at the wheel. The three of you carried a conversation through the whole ride to the airport.

On the flight over, Derek and you sat together as you discussed details of what was going to be part of the professional part of the trip. Even though you were discussing it now, it apparently wasn’t going to be talked about until the end of the trip.

The author’s name is Claire Hali, who was a few years younger than you. She had claimed that she didn’t want to start with business as it, “could tamper the friendship,” before it began.

Though you hated having to try and get her to sign this way, it isn’t the first time a writer has done this. You only dreaded this one because of the time it took place, and how long it was for. Usually, the longest amount of time spent was a few days. Meaning you and Derek could make quicker work of the situation and gauge if you really wanted to partner with them.

Pushing aside your more negative thoughts, you looked ahead to the time that could be seen as a vacation. Yes, it was still for work reasons, but it could be seen as a well deserved break. Afterall, these trips are some of the only breaks you took away from work.

At the airport, you were met by Claire, herself. She extended her hand in a friendly enthusiastic greeting. “I decided to come get you myself in extreme excitement for meeting the two of you.”

After Derek shook her hand, you moved to do the same, “It’s great to finally meet you Miss Hali.” Claire laughed as she shook your hand.

“Please, call me Claire. As you’ll learn during your time here, I am not hugely formal. It’s a nice gesture but I prefer you calling me by my first name.” She flashed a smile, causing you to do the same as you nodded. You didn’t know why, but you felt like you were going to get along with her even after these few moments.

Urging you to follow her, she brought you over to the luggage belt. As you always did, you didn’t read much about author’s before meeting them. For most of them, they loved that since it left them a chance to actually tell someone of their achievements without them already knowing.

For Claire, she thought it was amazing. She said that everyone else knew exactly what she had done and having you to tell it to for the first time made for a great time. Since she was in school, everyone knew about everything and she couldn’t ever talk about them normally. It made you feel bad for her, as you knew how that felt.

Once you and Derek found your respected bags, you joined Claire in heading to her personal car. She helped you both put the bags in the trunk and let you decide where to sit. Derek let you sit in the front as he saw the two of you were getting along quite well.

“Tonight I thought we could stay in and go out for dinner tomorrow,” she said as she pulled away from the airport entrance. Agreeing, you continued small conversations about your lives. You decided to keep Ben from the conversation for now.

Next>>

@stardancerluv @jaydenwoo @madmax2003 @alyssa-skywalker

[stilestilikeslydia]

Takotsubo Cardiomyopathy: Part Two

so I’m almost never on tumblr anymore, but in case any of you remember my old fics, I wanted to come back to let you know that I FINALLY finished the second part to this fic that I wrote for the Stydia Big Bang almost four years ago haha

there’s also some excellent art for it that @wellsjahasghost and @sydrianssage made for it way back in 2017 that you can check out here and here if you would like :)

enjoy!

(Rated M)

“I can't believe I've been a ghost for ten years, and nobody thought to tell me about the new Star Wars trilogy until today. ”

“Stiles, nobody even knew you existed until last month.”

Kira slapped Malia’s knee—lightly, because Kira was still incapable of giving an actual reprimand. “Well, we’ve told you about it now,” she said, offering him her brightest smile. “What did you think?”

“I think… I miss my blissful ignorance from eight hours ago, when I didn’t know that George Lucas greenlit this absolute garbage fire,” Stiles whined. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, The Force Awakens started out with a lot of potential, and the cast is full of extremely hot and talented people, but what the fuck?! My only regret is that my death tree wasn’t transformed into a desk in the writers’ room for these movies, or I could have haunted those dipshits until they figured out how to write a plot that actually made sense.”

“Your only regret, huh?” Lydia asked, keeping her tone dry and incredulous.

“No, you're right,” Stiles said, his expression instantly transforming into the biggest shit-eating grin Lydia had seen since before he'd died. “I also regret not inventing ectoplasmic grocery stores before my death. It’s unfair that I cook for all of you and don't get to eat any of it.”

“Not our fault you actually enjoy cooking,” Malia pointed out. “And depleting Lydia's bank account.”

“I am going to strangle you,” Lydia said. “Werecoyote strength or not.”

“But then who’s going to sit next to you in bars and make fun of everybody we see?”

“Yeah, you need her for that,” Kira added. “I’m terrible at judging people, and so is Scott.”

Scott toasted her with a grin, looking relaxed and comfortable against the armrest of the oversized couch he was currently sharing with a ghost and a realtor. Stiles took one look at him and snorted.

“Scott’s a terrible judge of many things,” he agreed. “People… the distance between a car bumper and the curb… movies…”

“Movies?”

“Yes, Scott!” Stiles crowed, now fully recovered from his initial disappointment. “This trilogy may have been a mess, but in order to watch it, you must have seen the other two trilogies too, and that means you have to know how great they are! Admit it, Star Wars is amazing, you were wrong, and I was right! Not watching it with me earlier was the biggest mistake of your life!”

“Maybe not the biggest,” Scott said, the grin on his face slipping a little. Lydia’s fingers tightened around the stem of her wine glass. “Anyway, I already knew the Star Wars movies were good. I watched them junior year.”

“Junior year?! ” Stiles squawked, so surprised that he started sinking into the couch. “And you never told me?! What the hell, man, all those times you pretended not to get my references and you—”

“Of college,” Scott clarified, and the room went silent.

Lydia set her wine glass down on the coffee table with trembling fingers. The tapping of glass on wood sounded like a gunshot, a bullet to the lungs. There was a crescent moon outside. For one heart-shattering moment, Lydia swore she could smell wolfsbane.

“I’m going to go get a glass of water,” she said, voice too harsh to her own ears, bouncing off the walls and clanging in her skull. Another bullet to the lungs.

The next thing she became aware of was the press of a cabinet knob against her back, the solidity of a hardwood floor underneath her body. She was leaning against the kitchen island, eyes level with the cabinet that Stiles had poked open over and over again to entertain Brooke all those weeks ago. Tonight, though, when she opened it herself, there was nothing inside.

Lydia clung to the knob anyway and tried not to cry.

It wasn’t Stiles who came to check on her after a few minutes, or Scott, or even Kira. Instead, Malia was the one who tugged the cabinet door out of Lydia’s hand and dropped to the floor, flinging her legs out to one side and meeting Lydia’s eyes without flinching.

“Kira started talking about BB-8 again,” she said. “Scott looked like he wanted to change the subject.”

Lydia pressed her lips together, looked away, and settled her hands on her knees with careful precision. “That was nice of her. I’m sure he did.”

“He told me, you know,” Malia continued without missing a beat. “About what you told him. About Stiles wanting you to sell the house.”

Lydia’s fingers clenched around the hem of her dress. “Yes.”

Malia narrowed her eyes. “Are you going to?”

“I have to,” Lydia said, “or Yvenne will just find another realtor.”

“Okay, maybe,” Malia said. “But who are you going to sell it to ?”

Lydia froze. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on,” she said. “I know you’ve been considering it. You’ve been eyeing the curtains in the living room like you can’t wait to change them all night.”

“Maybe I just can’t believe Yvenne expects me to find a buyer for this house when it’s been decorated so poorly.”

Malia rolled her eyes. “You don’t have to lie to me. I’m more observant than you think, and I’m not Scott or Stiles. I’m not going to try and stop you.”

Slowly, precisely, Lydia tilted her head and met Malia’s piercing gaze. “You know what you’re saying, right? Scott and Stiles would try to stop me.”

“Yeah,” Malia said. “And that matters, because Lydia Martin always does what people tell her to do. And I had a normal childhood. And math was my favorite subject in high school.”

After a long moment, Lydia stood. Malia mimicked the movement. “I just think we’ve already lost enough people,” Lydia admitted. “I don’t want to lose him twice.”

“Like I said. I’m not going to try and stop you.”

For a while, Lydia told herself that she hadn’t made up her mind. She let Stiles cook her every meal and listened to him relive memories from high school and the two years of college he’d gotten to enjoy, doing his best to help her appreciate the times they’d shared together without losing herself in them. She fell asleep on the couch with him while they watched movies together and pretended that she didn’t know he’d been playing with her hair when she woke up. She allowed him to teach her how to cook and change the oil in her car, life skills that she’d always expected him to handle in their relationship, life skills he wanted her to master before he moved onto wherever he expected to go once he stopped being a ghost, but—

But then, on a Thursday afternoon a week before Yvenne’s deadline, Lydia’s phone rang.

They were in the middle of making stir fry, but Stiles nudged her with the spatula he was using—one loophole he’d found for their inability to make physical contact—and told her to answer it “just in case.” “It could be important, Lyds.”

That was precisely why she didn’t want to answer it, but with a long-suffering sigh and a pointed glare, Lydia wiped her hands off on a paper towel and picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hello, Lydia Martin? This is Shea O’Malley.”

Predictably and irksomely, Lydia’s heart rate increased. “What can I do for you, Shea?” she asked, smoothing on her realtor’s smile even though Shea couldn’t see. Between the way Stiles’s eyebrows were raised and the way his head was tilted so he could hear Shea’s half of the conversation, Lydia needed the extra armor.

“Well, Ben and Piper and I have been shopping around the neighborhoods near that lovely red house you showed us, but we simply haven’t found a place that compares. After a long discussion, Ben and I have decided that there’s no use searching any longer. We would like to place an offer on that red house.”

Lydia’s head was all white noise and bloodstains and terror. She tried to picture saying goodbye to Stiles and watching him dissolve into whatever dimension the rest of their dead loved ones had ended up in. She tried to imagine handing the keys over to the O’Malleys and leaving the red house for good. She tried to convince herself that it was possible for her to move on.

But like the O’Malleys, Lydia discovered that it was no use.

Once upon a time, it might have been possible for her to move on. But now Lydia’s heart was inextricably entwined with this red house.

The only difference was that Lydia had the ability to hold onto it.

“I’m sorry,” she said, the white noise fading to a treacherous whisper. (So, basically nothing. Treacherous whispers were old friends in Lydia’s mind.) “You’re too late. The red house has already been sold.”

Stiles froze. Lydia froze, judging his reaction. Over the phone line, Lydia heard Shea’s breath catch, and then she sighed. “Are you certain there’s no chance of the buyer changing their mind? I mean, if we could place a counteroffer—”

“I’m afraid that there’s no amount of money you could offer that this particular buyer wouldn’t match,” Lydia said with as much gentleness as she could muster. The O’Malleys really were a nice family. “They’re quite dedicated, have a substantial savings account, and are at least as attached to the house as you are.”

Shea’s second sigh was only slightly less audible than the first. “Well, that’s it, then,” she said tiredly. “Thank you for all of your help, Lydia. We all thoroughly enjoyed meeting you the other day.”

“If you still haven’t found a different house in the next few weeks, let me know and I’ll help you keep looking. Free of charge,” Lydia blurted, because she was going to keep the house and Stiles and therefore she could afford to offer a little kindness to the family whose dream home she had just poached.

“Why, that’s very kind of you,” Shea said, oblivious to Lydia’s silent betrayal. “We may just take you up on that offer. Thank you again.”

And after the exchange of a few more pleasantries, she hung up.

“What the fuck?” Stiles said into the resulting silence. “A buyer made an offer on this house, and you didn’t tell me about it?”

Lydia set her phone on the counter. “You don’t really want me to leave.”

Stiles dropped his spatula. “What?”

“Come on, Stiles,” Lydia said. “Who do you think you’re talking to? If you really wanted me to move on, you never would have opened your mouth. I would have walked into this house on that first day, sold it, and walked right back out without ever knowing that you were here.”

“I—” Stiles spluttered. “I was surprised, and I just—”

“Maybe,” Lydia replied. “But that could have been it. I told you not to make it difficult for me to sell this house, and instead you scared off buyer after buyer until I figured out who you were. You say you want me to move on, but you’re here, Stiles. You’re standing right in front of me, and I’m never going to move on when I could have this instead!”

“What do you want me to say?” Stiles demanded. “Do you want an apology? Because I know you deserve one. I—I—I’m sorry for talking to you, I’m sorry for cooking you dinner, I’m sorry for being here! I didn’t mean to make this harder for you, and I’m sorry that I did! Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“NO!”

It wasn’t a banshee scream, but it left Lydia hoarse and aching all the same.

“I don’t want you to be sorry,” she whispered. “I just want you to want me to stay.”

“Well, I am sorry, Lyds. And I can’t give that to you.”

“Stiles—”

“Pick up the phone, Lydia. Call the O’Malleys. Tell them the buyer changed their mind.”

Lydia took a deep breath and looked at the man who was the love of both her life and whatever came after that. “No.”

“Lydia.”

“No, Stiles! I’m not going to do that! These last few weeks have been the happiest weeks of the past ten years. You can’t honestly stand there and expect me to give that up.”

“That’s the thing, though,” he said. “I’m not actually standing here.”

“That doesn’t matter to me.”

“But it should.” Stiles reached out, brushed his fingers through a loose strand of her hair, and then stepped away. “I might not be able to stop you from buying this house, but that doesn’t mean I have to give you a reason to live here.”

There was a whoosh, as if he was opening up that interdimensional doorway again, and then he disappeared.

On the stove, the stir fry began to burn.

(read the rest on ao3)

[princesssarcastia]

The Morning After aka How To Tell Your Super-Powered Kids You Just Murdered Their Abusive Father

heyo, here it is, in honor of season 2 coming out in *checks watch* like three days!!

the sequel to Reginald Hargreeves Die Challenge, in which Grace cares for her children, considers the unquantifiable elements in the human condition, and struggles to start (and finish) a terrible conversation.

also on AO3, if you’d prefer

_ _ _ _ _ _

Grace tuts at her reflection in passing as she makes her way up the stairs.  Her dress will have to be burned; stains from the ashes at the crematorium liberally speckle the skirt, and she won’t be able to get them out.   And now she has to change first thing, instead of looking in on her children like she normally does before shutting down for the night.

Oh, well.  Some deviations from her routine are to be expected tonight.  In fact, she may have to create a whole new routine, now that Sir Reginald is no longer a factor.  

She shucks off her dress in front of the closet where Sir Reginald stored her accessories and holds it for a moment, considering, before dropping it dismissively in the corner, crumpled.  Her hands run gently over the selection of new outfits, before settling on the sole black article; an A-line tea length hem.

Adhering to cultural rituals, like wearing black after the passing of a loved one or relative, put humans at ease.

With only a few tugs to adjust how the new dress rests on her, Grace pivots and makes her way back down the stairs, toward her children.

Her children.

It’s still a new designation, and something about it is electrifying.

—

Vanya, dear girl, is soundly asleep; her still form barely rises and falls with each breath.

Ben looks up sheepishly as she enters, setting aside his book and clicking off his bedside light before she even has to ask.  Grace smiles down at him and pulls the covers up around him as he reclines, and he smiles back.

Klaus is sprawled on his back in the center of his bed, snoring loudly; he forgot to shut his lights off again, so Grace turns them off for him.  She leaves his bedsheets twisted at his feet, however.  After the first three times he woke up screaming and tangled in them, some brief research indicated Klaus might be suffering from moderate to severe sleep-related claustrophobia.

It takes almost six minutes to convince Five to leave his calculations for tomorrow, but he relents when she recites research about adequate sleep patterns and their effect on brain development.

Luther asked her to stop tucking him in at night after a few pointed comments from Sir Reginald months ago, so Grace doesn’t enter his room.  Just a quick peek around the corner to make sure he’s in bed, at least.

Diego mumbles when she gently pushes his hair back from his forehead but doesn’t wake.

Allison is sitting in the middle of her bed, arms wrapped around her knees and face tucked away.  Grace steps on the creaky floorboard in the doorway to catch her attention.

Her head whips up.  “Mom?”

Grace instantly considers and discards three different facial expressions before settling on a solemn nod.  “Are you alright, Allison?”

“Mom, what—” her voice cracks.  “Where’s Dad?”

Now, Grace smiles, because she hasn’t considered how to answer that question yet and can’t respond. Her processors whir almost audibly, but it doesn’t—compute.  At last, she says, “Everything is going to be just fine, dear.  Don’t you worry,” and rests a hand on Allison’s cheek.

Her daughter’s eyes widen at the gesture; so rare, but perhaps—perhaps it won’t have to be anymore. She sweeps her thumb across Allison’s skin once, twice, before gently pushing at her shoulders so she lies down.

“Are you okay, Mom?” Allison asks haltingly, as Grace starts to leave. 

Grace pauses, hand on the door.  She blinks several times rapidly, to indicate she’s considering her response.  After a moment, she tilts her head back to Allison and gives her a smaller, warmer smile than the one before.  The smile she only ever gives to them.  “Yes, dear.  I think I’ll be just fine.”

Then she gently pulls the door shut behind her and walks back upstairs to her charging station.

The woman in the gallery painting still looks lonely, but—not as much as she did yesterday.   Grace tries to arrange her limbs like the woman’s, with her arm partially raised, though her expression isn’t quite right.  Her expression is never quite right; never exactly like the woman in the painting.

She shuts down for the night.

—

A preset alarm in her subroutines pulls her out of charging at six am.  Grace slowly initializes, eyelids dragging open as the cords retract, and takes stock of her systems.  Energy levels below optimal, but that’s to be expected, given she was two hours late to bed last night. 

She’ll have to find help overriding her self-maintenance protocols so she can edit her own code. [priority one] is currently overriding the lesser behavioral instructions, making several of them defunct, and the now-useless code is slowing down her processors.  Grace would like to get rid of them entirely, just to be certain the children are safe.

So many things to do today!

But first, pancakes for her children.

Diego stumbles into the kitchen two minutes after Grace, still yawning and rubbing his eyes. 

Sir Reginald never cared about the children’s activities before breakfast, so long as they were not seen, nor heard, and they all took advantage of this to do different things.  Diego comes to help her make breakfast.  Grace has been teaching him to cook for weeks, now, after he showed some interest in it. If Sir Reginald asked, she would tell him basic chemistry principles illustrated by cooking and baking are a good foundation for later study, but he never did.  The kitchen was never a place he spent much time, after all.

Her son—the possessive is still electrifying this morning—sleepily reaches for the ingredients for oatmeal, their usual weekday breakfast, only to stop and blink as he notices what she has out instead.

“We’re going to make pancakes this morning, Diego,” Grace says with hushed excitement.  Loud noises are uncomfortable so soon after waking.

“But…” Diego starts, then trails off.  His shoulder hunch ever so slightly, indicating he’s uncomfortable with the change in routine.  That’s to be expected, too; but the new routines will be better.

“It’s all right, dear. Look at the recipe, there,” she points, “and help me measure out the dry ingredients.”

And then the kitchen is silent except for his movements and hers, and the low hum of heat from the stove as she melts butter in the skillet, inaudible to human ears but perfectly clear to Grace.

She slides the bowl towards herself when he finishes measuring and deftly cracks the eggs into the bowl, then hands him the shells with a small smile. 

He grins back at her, earlier discomfort forgotten, as he throws the shells across the room to the garbage can in a perfect arc.

Stir in the milk, the oil, careful not to over-mix!, and then she starts pouring batter into the skillet.  Diego starts moving furtively in her peripheral; Grace pointedly keeps her focus on the pan in front of her, allowing him to pull bacon out of the fridge and make it all the way back to the stove before she glances at him.

“W-we need protein, ri-i-i—" he stops with a huff.  Grace waits patiently for him to try again, beaming when he finishes, “Right?”

“I suppose it’s alright for today.”

Grace calculates another twenty seconds before she needs to flip, so she turns and pulls the flat skillet out of the bottom cabinet and sets it on an open burner, cranking the heat all the way up to get it ready.

With one hand, she flips the first pancake, and with the other she peels back the paper on the meat and lines it up, wiping cold grease off on her apron.

“Why don’t you try the next one?” She says when the first pancake is done.  Diego nods seriously, the way he does when Sir Reginald assigns him a task in training.  Grace pauses, then ruffles his hair as they switch places, earning another surprised look from Diego.

Her systems say it’s 6:30 a.m.; the other children will start making their way here in another ten minutes.  Pogo never eats with the children or Sir Reginald, so he won’t come to the kitchen until mid-morning, for tea and toast; by then, Grace will have calculated the best way to break the news to him.

But the children….her processors kick up a notch as she considers the conundrum before her.  When her sensors register the flat skillet has reached 400° F Grace slides the first round of bacon onto it.

She can calculate each of their likely reactions to the news that their father is dead.  Calculating their response to the fact that Grace is the one who removed him requires more data.  And there is the problem of how to tell them.

Saying she killed Sir Reginald because he raised a hand to Allison would be truthful; but it would place a burden on Allison and is not the entire truth. 

The entire truth is that she killed Sir Reginald because she is responsible for protecting them; because he hit them and it wasn’t training; because he ignored them at bedtime; because he trained them to kill other people; because he made them hurt each other; because he sent them to bed exhausted every night and woke them up early; because he didn’t want them to be happy; because he didn’t want them to love each other; because he didn’t let Grace brush hair from their foreheads or kiss their cheeks or read them bedtime stories or make their favorite foods or tell them she—[error] [error] [error] [priority one] [priority one override] —

“Mom, I think the bacon’s done,” Diego says, as he attempts to slide the spatula under his second attempt at a pancake.

Grace smiles at him and keep smiling as she removes the strips and places them on a cloth covered plate.  Another seven slide on easy as you please, the sizzling sound of hot grease rising in the kitchen.

His third pancake is much better than his first and second; he looks up at her hopefully, and Grace knows he is looking for approval.  He often looked at Sir Reginald with the same expression, but Sir Reginald ignored the research on positive reinforcement because he believed it made his soldiers weak.

But Sir Reginald isn’t here anymore.

“Wonderful job, Diego,” she says softly, and starts pulling plates out of the cabinets and silverware out of the drawers and sets it all in stacks on the table because today is Five’s turn to set everything up.

Another round of bacon goes on the skillet, and she sets up a third to speed up the pancakes; they’re going to need a lot more to adequately feed seven growing girls and boys! Her processing attention splits between the food and her calculations about the discussion ahead.

Can Grace…lie to them?

She’s done it before, when Sir Reginald tells her to.  About Vanya’s powers, and about what’s best for their physical, mental, and emotional health.  But given how detrimental most of Sir Reginald’s other actions were to them, Grace determines that lying is unlikely to be the best way to proceed.

The problem is that unfortunate element of unpredictability in human behavior.  Grace is not human, and her children are, and this is limiting. If her children were like her, she could simply transmit her [priority one] and the calculations she made the night before, standing in Sir Reginald’s office and holding his arm in a vise grip.

But they are not, so she cannot. 

And there are no calculable lies with as much supporting evidence in their surroundings and the children’s memories of her and Sir Reginald’s behavior as the truth has. 

There are myriad possible responses from them.  Anger and violence against her are likely, given the training they have received and the behavior they have observed in their father as a role model.  Relief and dread are also likely, in some of them.

Fear is also a possible response.  Fear of Grace.  Fear that she might kill them the way she killed their father.  That possibility is wrong, it is anathema to her purpose; [priority one] forbids it.  And even if it didn’t, she—she—[error]

Five teleports into the room behind them and moves to start putting together place settings, but when the smell of bacon and pancakes registers, he stops, and frowns.

“Why are you making that? It’s Thursday, we eat oatmeal on Thursdays.”

Grace slides the last set of bacon from the skillet and turns off the burner.  “Today is an unusual day, Five.  We’ll discuss it when the rest of your siblings arrive.  Now, finish setting the table, please.”

What if they decide to shut Grace down?  Then there will be no one to care for the children, they will be alone.  Would they call the local authorities to be placed in foster care?

Sir Reginald was never this hard to predict.  And even the children were easier to calculate when he was alive, because certain behaviors were infinitely more likely and unlikely in his presence.  But Grace is still certain her logic last night was sound; his death was the only way to protect them.   She will simply have to protect them no matter what their response is.  No matter if they are angry at her or scared of her or try to shut her off.

That’s what mothers are supposed to do.  That’s what fathers are supposed to do, too.

She and Diego finish the last of the batter.  He takes the towering, wobbly stack of pancakes to the table in slow steps to maintain its balance.

“Five, get the glasses, please,” she calls over her shoulder as she pulls milk and orange juice out of the fridge and brings them to the table.  Five teleports onto the counter to get them, and then teleports back across the room to set them down.

Grace considers scolding him, but his feet are bare, still in his pajamas as he is, and the counter was clean.  And he was doing as she asked without complaint. 

Klaus and Ben clatter into the kitchen and the noise level in the room raises to 85 decibels.

They, too, come to a halt when they see what Grace and Diego have made for breakfast this morning, but then Klaus turns to look at her more fully. 

“Whoa, Mom, what the hell are you wearing?” Klaus says.  “You never wear anything that isn’t a color.”

“Oh, well,” Grace looks down and runs her hands along the side seams, making infinitesimal adjustments, “I thought it was appropriate today.”

Klaus’ nose wrinkles in confusion, and Five raises an eyebrow at her, taking in the new data and, Grace decides, most likely trying to figure out what’s happening before she tells them.  It’s something he does with Sir Reginald, as well; as part of his situational awareness training, and also outside of his training, as a way to elicit a negative emotional response.

Grace calculates the likelihood of him succeeding today at 17% currently, though that number will rise with more time and data.  Unless he has spoken to Allison and she told him what happened last night, but that seems even less likely.

Vanya enters and slips into her seat at the head of the table so quietly the others don’t notice right away, but Grace tilts her head to catch Vanya’s eyes and smiles widely. Vanya blinks and gives a little wave in response.

Quiet chatter between them fills the kitchen as Five finishes setting places, and the others make it to their assigned seats.  Allison and Luther enter together, at the very last minute before they are due.  She gives Luther a cursory examination, and he appears puzzled with Allison, who is as tense as she was last night.  When she catches sight of Grace, standing with her hands folded at her waist, she freezes.

“Allison,” Grace says warmly, “how are you this morning?”

“Um.  Alright,” she says hesitantly.

After they both sit, Grace follows suit, settling at the other end opposite Vanya, and her children all send her various quizzical looks.  Five takes her presence at the table, when she normally cleans the kitchen while they eat breakfast, as another clue, but his expression is missing that triumphant edge he gets when he’s figured something out.

“Well,” Grace starts, smile wide.  “I hope you all slept well.”

Klaus reaches for his silverware and starts serving himself, affecting unconcern, but Grace can see the hesitation in his shoulders.  When Grace says nothing, the others all follow suit, carefully taking food and placing it on their plates.

She knows their tension is because she has altered their routine; her research indicates that children who have been—abused, by men like Sir Reginald, find comfort in routines.  But this change today is necessary.

“There will be some necessary changes in your routines starting today,” Grace continues, circling around why to get to what instead.  “All meals will be held in the kitchen until further notice.  Your training and classes will be different, too.”

None of them say a word against the idea, keeping their gazes locked on their plates as they eat, because they don’t yet realize she isn’t a mouthpiece for their father anymore. His authority is unassailable.  Grace’s is not.

“And,” she hesitates, “Sir Reginald will not be—here.  To oversee it.”

Now they look up.  “Really?”  Klaus asks excitedly, as Five’s eyes narrow at her, that much closer to working it out. Vanya simply blinks, but her brow is slightly furrowed; Ben has stilled, his hands halfway between his plate and his mouth.  Diego fidgets, pulling one of his knives from his sleeve and flipping it into the air. Allison’s expression indicates she is nauseated. 

Luther frowns.

“Why won’t father be here? Did,” his eyes glimmer, “did we do something wrong?”

“No,” Grace says firmly. “None of you did anything wrong.”

“Are we being punished?”

“It’s not a punishment.”

“Where is he?”  Ben asks.  “If he’s not going to be here, then, where is he?”

Grace is certain the correct answer is not, ‘scattered in ashes along the riverbed’, no matter that it is the truth, but she still doesn’t quite understand how to put it so they will understand.

“Is it because of what happened last night?”  Allison asks, one of her hands coming up to trace the side of her face.  The exact spot, Grace calculates, where Sir Reginald would have struck her if Grace had allowed it.

“What happened last night?” Five demands, leaning across the table toward Allison.

Allison darts a glance at Grace, then Luther.  “I—I was angry that he wouldn’t say goodnight to us.  So, when you all left, I,” she lowers her head, “I tried to rumor him.”

The table erupts, all of them making noise at once.  Klaus and Diego appear impressed, the former even reaching across to proffer his hand for a high-five; Vanya’s eyes go wide, and she grips her own arms, whispering, “You’re not supposed to use your powers on him;” Ben and Five exchange a glance and then look to Grace; Luther’s frown deepens into outrage as he says, “Allison, how could you?  You know he just doesn’t have time for stupid stuff like bedtimes.”

They all start to talk over one another, except for Allison who pales, indicating a loss of blood flow to her face, and Five, who is still looking at Grace.

Finally, before Grace can even attempt to regain their attention, Five cuts through the noise.  “And then what happened?”

Allison’s throat moves as she swallows.  “Um.” She rubs her face again, and Five’s expression changes, as does Klaus’.  “He tried to hit me,” her voice falls quieter with every word.  Luther seems more upset, now, as does Vanya.

“Tried?” Five prompts when she doesn’t say anything else.

Allison shifts in her seat, and Grace cuts in, sensing her discomfort.  “I caught his hand before he did and sent Allison to bed.”

“Holy shit,” Klaus breathes.

“Language,” Grace admonishes, gently, and he mumbles an apology.

“But…” Luther starts again, eyes darting from face to face, “Why would you do that?  What does that have to do with Dad not being here anymore?”

“Fathers aren’t supposed to hit their children,” Grace says evenly.

“But Allison was trying to rumor him!”

“That doesn’t make it right.”  Grace sees his confusion, still, and tries to explain.  “Fathers are supposed to be,” she tries to quantify love and devotion and care and attention, “kind.”  Thinks further, about training and hitting and bruises and blood.  “They’re supposed to protect their children.”  Thinks about disappointed faces at bedtime, and silent meals, and ignored questions, and continues, “They’re supposed to raise their children.

“Sir Reginald was not kind to you all, and he did not protect you.  I think,” Grace looks at them, meeting their eyes as a way to emphasize her seriousness, “that he hurt you all a great deal.  My function as your mother is to protect you, even from Sir Reginald.”

All seven of her children have fallen utterly still, eyes trained on her in complete silence, and shock, and, in Five’s case, as his gaze darts to her black dress and back to her face, realization.  His face pales even more drastically than Allison’s had, two minutes ago.

“What happened to Dad?” Luther asks, his voice breaking in the middle, and some line of code or processor or something in Grace malfunctions, if only for a moment, to hear him make that sound.

“Luther,” Five says, and Ben and Diego look at him.

“What happened to Dad?” Luther says, louder this time.  “What happened to him?  Tell me!” He shouts and stands up from the table, his warped silverware clattering onto the table.

Grace stands as well and starts to make her way around the table toward Luther, ignoring Diego’s, “Mom, what—” and Five’s, “Luther!” so she can give Luther her full attention

“Where’s our Dad?” Luther screams in her face as she reaches him and grabs her arm and starts squeezing.  “Tell me, tell me where he is!”

“Luther, darling,” Grace says, and does nothing to stop him, “he’s gone.  Sir Reginald is—your father is gone.”

His chest rises and falls rapidly, much faster than is optimal; Grace calculates he’ll start to hyperventilate in another twenty seconds if he continues.  “What did you do?”  He cries, and his voice breaks again, and Grace senses something in her malfunction again.

The plating on her arm is sending out alerts that it will become compromised if the current pressure continues.  Luther’s knuckles turn white as he tightens his grip on her arm.

“I calculated the best way to keep you all safe,” Grace says calmly, shaking her head at Diego when he moves to intervene.  All of the children have risen, now.   “Sir Reginald could not be allowed to hurt you anymore.  The authorities would have been unable to apprehend him, and he would not have stopped treating you the way he did.”

“Mom,” Diego whispers, but she doesn’t look away from Luther, who tightens his grip again and cracks the outer casing on her arm with a loud noise.  The others jolt in place, but Luther keeps breathing rapidly and starts to cry.

“Your father is dead, Luther,” Grace says at last.  For all her calculations, and study of human behavior, there is no other way to say this than plainly.  “I killed him.”

He lets loose a harsh, broken cry, and Grace catalogues it as the most human sound she’s ever heard. Unquantifiable.

Now, she raises her free hand to cup the side of Luther’s face, lets her thumb sweep across his cheek in a soothing gesture for the first time in his life.  His expression crumples and he lets out another shout as tears begin to leak from his eyes, and Grace catches one and smooths it away.  “I’m so sorry, dear.”

“How could you?”  Luther jerks away from her hand and releases her arm, stumbling backwards into the kitchen table.  Plates and silverware rattle and shift, and some of the milk and juice sloshes over the sides of their glasses and onto the wood.

“Luther,” Five says again, the pitch of his voice much lower, making his way around to his brother. Allison steps into him, too, and the pair of them clutch at Luther until he grabs back, much more gently than he had Grace.

None of them take their eyes off Grace for more than a few seconds at a time, a kind of watchfulness they had previously only reserved for Sir Reginald.  Grace reviews her earlier calculations on fear being part of their reaction to the news and lets it go.

The news has hurt them, she realizes suddenly; all of them, she recognizes as she turns to see all of them at once.  Even if it was for the best, Grace has—hurt her children.  And that means that she has failed to uphold her protocol today.

Diego reaches out to her and Grace automatically reaches back, will always automatically reach back to her children now that she will be allowed, and wraps her arms around him, careful to avoid getting the leaking oil from her broken casing on his pajamas.

“Mom,” he says, looking up at her as he hugs her middle, “are you okay?”

“Of course, dear,” she smiles down at him and squeezes him, gently.  “Are you okay, Diego?”

“I thi-i-ink so,” Diego says forcefully, and then sniffles.  “Is Si-i-r Reginald really gone?”

“Yes,” she says softly.

Klaus and Ben are looking at each other while Five and Allison still do their best to comfort Luther. Vanya stands listlessly by her seat with an uncertain expression.  Grace can read grief and fear in all of their faces and bodies, and anger.

Part of her programming tries to override her current actions and offer solutions to their feelings: encourage them to finish breakfast, make cookies, soothe and console and make sure they’re all right until the hurt fades and Grace is no longer paining them simply by existing.

But her knowledge of human behavior, and of these seven in particular, allows her to determine that those actions are unlikely to be successful.  Her children will continue to be in pain, and there is very little Grace can do to fix it.  

[stuonsongs]

My Top 10 Favorite Songs of All Time - 2006 Edition

2021 Editor’s Note: I was looking through some old files and found this thing that I wrote sometime in the summer of 2006 at age 22. For all I know, it could’ve been 15 years to the day! Looking back, I’m not sure how many of these songs would still make my top 10. Don’t get me wrong, I still love all of these tunes, but I’m sure you know how it goes - You get older, you get exposed to more things, and your idea of good music expands. Anyway, I thought it might be nice to share with anyone who still uses this site. I present it in its original format without edits to my writing. I ended up writing full posts in this blog about some of these songs if you go through the archive. 

Stu’s Top 10 Favorite Songs…Ever

Let’s start with some honorable mentions. These were so close, and I thought about it for so long, but they had to be left off.

Honorable Mentions

All Summer Long – The Beach Boys

All Summer Long. 1964. Capitol

This song has been described so many times as being “the perfect summer song.” When you listen to it, you can’t help but smile from the opening marimba intro, all the way through. It just screams “summer” and it hurt me to leave The Beach Boys off my top 10.

Bleed American – Jimmy Eat World

Bleed American. 2001. Grand Royal

So full of energy, so rocking, and so what would’ve been the most recent song on my list. I wanted to keep it in the top 10 just so I could have a song from the ‘00s, but it wasn’t meant to be. When the chorus kicks in, I can’t help but headbang.

Marie – Randy Newman

Good Old Boys. 1974. Reprise

Randy has said that a lot of young composers pick “Marie” as their favorite Newman song, and I can see why. The idea of a guy having to be drunk to tell his wife that he loves her is pretty funny, and throughout the whole song it’s just the beautiful melody with tons of strings, all to a tune about a guy ripping on himself as he comes home drunk to his wife.

Does He Love You? – Rilo Kiley

More Adventurous. 2004. Brute/Beaute

I guess this is newer than Bleed American, so it would’ve worked too. This is another more recent song that it killed me to leave off the list. The outro is an arrangement of the main tune with a different chord progression performed by a string quartet. Very beautiful. Also when Jenny Lewis screams “Your husband will never leave you, he will never leave you for me,” I get chills every time.

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

So here it is. After a long day’s work, I’m finally finished. It actually turned out much different than I was thinking when I first started. The number one wasn’t really even in my top five when I started, but I slowly realized I loved it so much. I also left Ben Folds (Five) off this list completely, and I don’t know, I just feel the whole catalogue of Ben is so solid, none of the songs stick out to me that much. But anyways, here it is! After the break of course…

Stu’s Top 10

10.

(Love Is Like A) Heat Wave – Martha and the Vandellas

Heat Wave. 1963. Motown.

This one beat out “Bleed American” just barely. The reason being that somehow, despite being nearly 40 years older than Bleed American, it still has so much energy that it kills. Dan Bukvich once told our Jazz Arranging class that you can boil all the oldies you hear on the radio down to three categories: 1) Great Song. 2) Great Performance. 3) Great Arrangement. This song is one of the great performances. The handclaps throughout, combined with the driving baritone sax behind everything and constant snare drum action will keep anybody with blood running through their veins dancing all night long.

9.

Bodhisattva – Steely Dan

Countdown to Ecstasy. 1973. MCA

This song is my Freebird. It’s just a basic blues progression song at its core with some minor changes at the end of the form. The real kicker that drives this song home is the three minute guitar solo in the middle that isn’t nearly as rocking as Freebird, but it is highly proficient and takes me to places that just make me want to play the song over and over again. I have no idea what this song is about, probably Buddhism, but hey, this once again proves that lyrics rarely matter and the music itself is the core.

8.

Zanzibar – Billy Joel

52nd Street. 1978. Columbia

This song reminds me of long car rides on vacations down the west coast with my parents growing up. They used to play a tape of 52nd Street, or at least their favorite selections, constantly on these trips. I didn’t hear this song again until early in my senior year in college and remembered why I loved it so much. The song has a heavy jazz influence, displayed in the breakdown where Jazz trumpeter Freddie Hubbard does a solo. The best part of this song though is at the end of the 4th line of each verse, Billy does this “Woah oh oh!” thing that just makes me want to sing every time. It was between this and “Miami 2017 (Lights Go Out On Broadway)” which is also a great song, but the “Woah oh oh!” is too much for ol’ Stu boy.

7.

Rosalita (Come Out Tonight) – Bruce Springsteen

The Wild, the Innocent, and the E Street Shuffle. 1973. Columbia

Early Bruce Springsteen records have something that very few other artists can ever pull off without sounding cheesy or forced. It has this undeniable sense of urgency, like the world will fall apart and life will crumble through your fingers if this one moment in time doesn’t work out the way Bruce describes it. There are so many early Springsteen songs that just set a scene of “We have to get out of this town right now girl before it kills us, no matter what any of our parents, friends, anybody has to say.” There’s a line that kinda sums it up: “Well hold on tight, stay up all night ‘cause Rosie I’m comin’ on strong. By the time we meet the morning light, I will hold you in my arms. I know a pretty little place in southern California down San Diego way. There’s a little café where they play guitars all night and all day. You can hear ‘em in the back room strummin’, so hold tight baby ‘cause don’t you know daddy’s comin’.”

6.

I’ve Got You Under My Skin – Frank Sinatra

Songs For Swingin’ Lovers! 1956. Capitol

This song falls into the category of great arrangement. This Cole Porter classic tune was arranged for Sinatra by Nelson Riddle. The story goes that he was still copying down parts for the players while riding in the cab to the recording studio on the day of recording. After the players ran through it once with Frank, they stood up and applauded. The Baritone sax takes control here, outlining a Db6/9 chord throughout the intro. Of course, Frank’s vocal delivery is spot on and goes up and down in all the right places for the biggest emotion impact. It’s amazing how a song with no real chorus can be so good.

5.

A Change Is Gonna Come – Sam Cooke

Ain’t That Good News. 1964. RCA Victor

This song was not even going to be on this list, but then I ran across it while scouring my collection of music and remembered how good it was. Then I listened to it and was blown away by the level of detail that went into this arrangement. Sam’s vocals soar above the mind blowingly beautiful arrangement. The lyrics to this one actually add to the tune itself, speaking of wrongdoings in the world around him, and how social change is on its way in the form of the civil rights movement. The song flows with such ease out of Cooke that one might forget the weightiness of the content, but the song’s content is just so heavy that it’s impossible to deny it.

4.

Whatever – Oasis

Whatever EP. 1994. Creation

This song was released as a Christmas present to the U.K. from the Gallagher brothers and company. It never appeared on any full album, only being released as a single, and amazingly, it blows away anything else they’ve ever done. Think “All You Need Is Love,” but with tons of rocking energy and a snide, nonchalant attitude. The chorus speaks, “I’m free to be whatever I, whatever I choose and I’ll sing the blues if I want. I’m free to be whatever I, whatever I like, if it’s wrong or right, it’s alright.” Not exactly poetry, and the song isn’t exactly breaking any new ground either, but the song is absolutely perfect in every way, and it was going to be my #1, but perhaps the only reason it’s not at number one is because I’ve played this song so many times that at the moment, these next three are beating it, but who knows how I’ll feel in a few months. This song also pulls the same “outro performed by a string quartet” thing as “Does He Love You?” but even better. It’s so simple, but I can’t get enough of it.

3.

Mr. Blue Sky – Electric Light Orchestra

Out of the Blue. 1977. Jet

This is obviously the best Beatles song that the Beatles never wrote. The staccato guitar during the verse combined with the strings present in just about every ELO song combine to make a force that is undeniably catchy and musically challenging at the same time. This is really what makes ELO so good. I didn’t discover this song till probably Nov. 2005, and it was one of the best days of my life. I didn’t want to include two songs by the same artist in my top 10, but if I did, I probably would’ve added “Turn To Stone” on this list too because it is almost as awesome as this one. It’s a shame that just like Billy Joel, most critics at the time hated ELO for being overly creative musically (they called it pretentiousness). These days we have acts that really are pretentious (see Radiohead), but everyone loves them, even critics. I’m not knocking all Radiohead, just most everything post OK Computer. Sorry, got a little sidetracked there.

2.

Only In Dreams – Weezer

Weezer. 1994. Geffen

This has been my favorite Weezer song since about a month into me picking up Weezer’s debut album back around early 2000. It has this ostinato (a repeated motif over and over again) in the bass throughout most of the whole song, never even really resolving to the Gb major chord (excluding chorus, which never really resolves) that it wants to until the end of a 3 minute contrapuntal guitar duet when everything dies out except the bass which just retards on its own until it finally plays the single Gb we’ve all been waiting for. The song on the whole up until the guitar duet is pretty tame, but once those contrapuntal guitar lines start intertwining, my ears perk up every time. I can sing both lines at separate times upon request and when the drums finally kick back in fully at the climax of the song, I let out a sigh of relief or bang on my car wheel in exultant joy, whichever is more of an option at the time.

1.

All Is Forgiven – Jellyfish

Spilt Milk. 1993. Charisma

I always loved this song from the first time I heard it, but I didn’t realize how much I loved it until maybe April 2006. I found out about Jellyfish first semester of college in the Fall of ’02 and heard this song, and knew it was great. The constant tom-tom driven drums, the fuzzy, almost white noise distorted guitar, and the half time bass throughout. It was great. Then in April I put it on my mp3 player for the walk to school, and then I listened to it for about two weeks straight. Seriously. It runs into the next song entitled “Russian Hill” which is almost as good, but because it’s a separate song, I couldn’t include it on the list, but in my mind, they always run together and are basically one long 9 minute song. The ending just gets more and more white noise filled until you can barely take it anymore and then it just cuts off completely into the slow acoustic intro for Russian Hill. It’s perfect in every way. I think this would fall into the category of great song. And the way the song builds up right to the middle of the song and then cuts out completely except for some very VERY faint xylophone noodling, and then busts back in with some feedback directly into guitar solo. Man I love this song.

[zoryany]

The Sun

send me a card and / or character(s) or a ship, and I’ll write a ficlet based around one or more words associated with a tarot cardThe Sun – crimson, children, success, festivity

Anakin Skywalker was late.

Dashing through the crowds, weaving his way through the bustling ecumenopolis that made up their home, he cursed silently to himself. In his lifetime, he’d faced down Sith Lords, defeated entire legions of droid armies, piloted against squadrons that had him outnumbered and outgunned, and it just so happened to be now that he was, completely and utterly doomed.

His movements had never been more frantic. A genuine apology accompanied each shove or less-than-ideal dismissal of a being who stood in his way, and he vowed to make it up to every single sentient he’d pushed aside. For the time being, however, he had much more pressing matters to attend to.

“You’re late, Skyguy.” The Togruta who ushered him in wore a wry expression, a single brow-marking raised as she did so. 

He met her amusement with a half-hearted glare. “Am I? Thanks, Snips, I had no idea. Where would I be without you?”

“In a lot more hot water than you already are,” she said gravely. “You’re lucky you have me to cover for you, and you’re extra lucky that I do it so well. Now get in there, before you end up making things worse.”

Chuckling, Anakin gave Ahsoka a gentle nudge as thanks, brushing past her to step beyond the threshold and into the apartment that lay beyond. 

It was incredible, the way both Padmé and Obi-wan could look at him with entirely different expressions and convey the exact same level of disappointment in him. He shifted, slightly, under their scrutiny, and worked to push down the pang of guilt that rippled through him at their expressions. His own look of contrition was well-practiced at this point, and he offered it to them all in the hopes of maintaining peace. 

Ultimately, though, it was the chorused cry of “Papa!” and the warmth that resonated through the Force made everything alright. As much as he loved both his wife and his brother, everything he did was – particularly on this day, of all days – for his children, both of whom were gazing up at him adoringly. Luke was clinging to his leg, matching those baby blues to his own and beaming with that bright grin of his; Leia was gripping his hand, a smile lurking behind her eyes, but a far more obvious suspicion, verging on hurt, living at its forefront. 

Scooping the twins into a tight embrace, Anakin offered them both his brightest grin. “Happy birthday, my Sun and Moon,” he muttered in between them as he held them close and planted a series of kisses in their hair. They both squealed in response, snuggling in closer to him. If he had his way, he’d stay here forever, with Padmé right by their side.

After a moment that felt like, simultaneously, an eternity and not nearly long enough, Anakin pulled back and examined his children. The twins met his gaze with matching levels of adoration, though he could not quite deny the trace levels of betrayal still lurking within Leia’s deep browns. 

It was unbelievable, even after five years, how his children had grown to, somehow, look nothing alike yet be unmistakably twins. Leia inherited her mother’s features, though they bore a sharpness she’d gotten from Anakin that led an edge to her every expression. Luke, meanwhile, resembled his father, but brighter, radiating warmth in his every feature. Both twins possessed a brilliant, shining light, though, one that wove its way through the very fabric of their beings and echoed through the Force. They were connected, undeniably, and despite their differences, could not be anything but twins.

Anakin’s eyes flicked downwards, and he smiled to himself at their outfits. Leia’s simple white dress and Luke’s black finery both peeked out from beneath matching deep red garments that were something between a cape and a robe. They were elegant and flowing, making the young children appear regal despite their tender age. No child of Padmé‘s was going to spend their birthday looking anything short of stunning. It was likely no coincidence that they were vaguely reminiscent of the garments once worn by Amidala as she presided over her homeworld of Naboo. The planet was a part of the children, and though they could not their personal celebrations there, it was heartening to know that they could at least carry some aspect of the planet with them.

“Papa,” said Leia, a challenging edge to her voice as she folded her arms across her chest. “Why are you late?” Force, no child should have the power to make a grown man, let alone her own father, feel scolded like Leia could.

“I had some very important business I needed to attend to, and it ended up taking more time than I’d expected.”

“Council business?” asked Luke. His son was enraptured by anything and everything remotely Jedi-related.

Obi-wan caught his eye and raised a brow. Anakin just laughed and shook his head. “No, dear one, something far more important than that.” Luke’s eyes grew even wider. “I was getting my present for the two of you – but we’ll have to go together to pick it up.” And pick it out. He’d managed to get all the paperwork in order ahead of time – which had proven to be quite the ordeal – but he was not about to choose the twins’ first pet for them. 

That’s not to say he didn’t have a few suggestions, however…

The announcement earned him another joyous squeal from the twins. Anakin didn’t notice the look Obi-wan and Padmé exchanged or the smirk that twisted Ahsoka’s features; he was far too focused on the joy radiating off his children.

“That’ll be after we finish dinner and cake though, right Ani?” Padmé said, raising a skeptical brow at him. 

“Yes, my love, of course.”

“Oh, but Mama,” Luke pouted, “I wanna know what it is now!” 

Chuckling lightly, Obi-wan cut in. “Remember, young Luke, that one of a Jedi’s greatest virtues is patience. Enjoy your birthday celebrations and the time spent with your family, for now, and it will make whatever your father’s cooked up seem all the more exciting.”

“Yes, Uncle Ben.”

Picking himself up from his crouched position, Anakin fell into step with Padmé and Obi-wan as Ahsoka led the twins towards the dining room. He was certain that one of them would try and talk him out of bringing an animal into their lives when the twins were so young and they were all so busy, or at the very least talk him down from one of the more exotic creatures he’d been eyeing, but he didn’t care. The twins had been asking for a pet for weeks now, even going so far as to use Artoo as ‘practice,’ much to the astromech’s chagrin. His children were his sun and moon, his family his entire universe, and he would do whatever it took to make them happy.

It was the least he could do to convince himself he was worthy of just how happy they made him.

[urrguide]

FOODIE'S GUIDE TO MARRAKESH

These movement guides are intended for tentative arrangements and current wandering off in fantasy land as it were. Up to that point, remain safe!

M'smen

Sightseers have since a long time ago rushed to Morocco's Red City for a sample of the extraordinary. The very name invokes flavors, snake-charmers, 

and arousing delights. Its food soaks are in Berber and Arabic impacts and eating here can be an incredible experience. Marrakech must one of the most reminiscent, scrumptious, and exceptional goals for foodies in the Mediterranean locale. In any case, Marrakech can be dumbfounding just because of the guest (or any guest). Spare yourself from unremarkable couscous with this manual for finding the best food in Marrakech.

MOROCCAN CUISINE – CAFES – RESTAURANTS – LOCAL DISHES – MARKETS – COOKERY CLASSES – FOOD TOUR – SOUVENIRS – RECIPE BOOKS

MOROCCAN CUISINE 

Marrakech truly was one of the primary general stores and markets in North Africa. Products and flavors were conveyed up the Saharan shipping lanes by camel. The Arab impact brought mezze and organic products from the east. French standard left its imprint as well, as did control of Andalucia. Marrakech has desert, mountains, and ocean inside short proximity. Stews are scented with nectar and saffron, cumin, protected lemon, olives, and dates. Slows down in the medina are heaped high with flavors and mint and figs. Morocco doesn't have a culture of eating out so most of the cafés are focused at guests as opposed to local people; it's very simple to leave away having eaten normal tagines at swelled costs. The best customary Moroccan food is normally found in the home, so in case you're remaining in a riad do benefit as much as possible from any chances to eat or cook with your host. Local people for the most part like to eat universal food when out for the night. The primary dishes related to Morocco are tagine and couscous. You'll never observe these served together, they are discrete dishes—and couscous from a bundle is heresy! Couscous is customarily eaten on a Friday (the blessed day) and is what could be compared to Sunday lunch. It's meticulously hand moved from semolina and steamed with the meat and vegetables. In Marrakech, you'll likewise discover Tangia, a stew cooked in a dirt pot in the ashes underneath the hammam (instead of on a burner in a stoneware tagine).

Moroccan breakfast at Cafe des Epices THE CAFES

Sooner or later during your outing, you'll need a break from the singing warmth and power of the Medina. Here's a determination of probably the best bistros in Marrakech to shield from the sun and get your caffeine fix: Atay Cafe. Close to the Ben Youssef Madrasa, this is the one with the most Instagrammable rooftop patio. Energetic juices and boho-stylish vibes. Bistros des Epices. Perhaps the coolest bistro, head to this staggered Spice Market bistro in case you're longing for a latte or searching for a light lunch, chill beats and housetop sees. Bistro Clock. Initially began in Fes, Cafe Clock presently has a station in Marrakech. It broadly serves a camel burger and offers social workshops and customary jam meetings. Bistro du Livre. One for the bibliophiles (and those lenient toward tobacco smoke), this agreeable hideaway and English-language book shop has a liquor permit and is well known with ex-pats. Grande Cafe de la Poste. For climate, this reestablished pioneer period brasserie is difficult to beat for beverages or eating. It's a debauched neighborhood establishment with nearby fixings and live jazz in the nighttimes.

THE LOCAL DISHES TO TRY 

Just as the numerous minor departure from tagine and couscous, here are a couple of neighborhood specialties and tidbits to watch out for while meandering the Medina:

Amlou. A delightful blend of argan oil, nectar, and almond glue. This is your new most loved plunge.

Babouche. Snails served in a daintily spiced gritty stock, these snails taste more like mushrooms than you may anticipate.

Insane Bread. One of the numerous names for cushy pitta-Esque sandwiches stuffed hard bubbled eggs, pounded potato, and zesty sauce. Likewise, pay special mind to sandwiches highlighting aubergine (eggplant) or sardine.

Becerra. Garlicky fava bean soup.

B'stilla. The exemplary Moroccan dish is generally made with pigeon or chicken meat encased in slender flaky baked good and sweet flavors, yet different fillings, for example, fish are accessible as well.

Briouats. Minimal triangular samosa-like filled baked goods, loaded down with meat or sweet almond glue.

Brochettes. Flame-broiled sticks of meat, one of the most famous road nourishments on Djemma el Fna.

Harira. Generally eaten during Ramadan to break the quick, little dishes of this generous lentil and chickpea soup are probably the least expensive road nourishments you can discover in Marrakech.

Hodangal. There's a bunch of slows down in the Djemma el Fna serving sweet zesty teas with stomach related properties.

Juices and smoothies. These are all over; attempt mixes of banana, date, avocado, almond, orange, and sugar stick juice, orange bloom water, nectar, figs, and rose water.

Kaab Ghazal. The great Moroccan patisserie sweet made of almond glue enclosed by baked good and molded into gazelle horns

Khobz. The staple Moroccan bread; round, level, regularly made with semolina flour and extraordinary for plunging and scooping.

Labia. Moroccan prepared beans! Generally a morning dish. Plunge your khobz.

Ma'qooda. Potato wastes plunged in egg and pan-fried.

Mechoui. Spit-cooked sheep, with the offal, were likewise accessible for the more daring.

Mint tea. It's practically difficult to leave Morocco without having attempted 'Berber Whisky'. Mint leaves fermented with green tea, poured from stature to initiate bubbles, and typically presented with a pile of sugar solid shapes.

M'smen. flatbread-like hotcakes with nectar and smen (aged margarine), flavors, or dunked in amount.

Seven. Moroccan doughnuts.

Tangia. A Marrakech uncommon of sheep and safeguarded lemon moderate cooked for the time being in the heaters that heat the hammams.

THE MARKETS

Zest Market

The business sectors of Marrakech Medina need little presentation and are apparently the city's primary draw.

The acclaimed (and UNESCO-secured) Djemaa el Fna square in its middle is the social heart of the city. The square wakes up around evening time with narrators, artists, snake-charmers, and

food

sellers. My preferred corner is the mint market, administering colossal packs of the stuff for use in mint tea and perfuming the air with its cool scent.

The

food

slows down in the Djemma el Fna don't have gained notoriety for cleanliness, although hand washing stations have as of late been introduced. The auditorium is unrivaled, yet numerous slows down are scams. Better, less expensive

food

is accessible in the littler back streets of the Medina. In any case, it's a rush and a transitional experience for individuals visiting Marrakech, so here are a few hints for eating there:

Search for a horde of local people

If somebody is bothering you to eat there, continue strolling

The better the menu in English, the less to anticipate from the food

Even though slows down showcase costs, concur what you will pay forthright and don't acknowledge any 'complimentary gifts' that will definitely be labeled onto your bill at an extortionate rate

Stick to food that is newly barbecued or seared before you

Watch that the singing oil looks light and clean

Maintain a strategic distance from plates of mixed greens and minced meats

Fish is unsafe except if you know the birthplace/stockpiling

Albeit intangible upon the appearance, the medina is isolated into littler network regions, each with a mosque, hammam, and a nearby market for products of the soil. Pro venders are additionally bunched into souks (markets) all through the medina—the zest showcase is one model (and one of the least demanding to discover).

THE COOKERY CLASSES

Marrakech is truly an outstanding and least expensive goal to take a cookery class. For all intents and purposes, each riad or inn will offer this, either in-house or at a bigger school. Classes do shift as far as what they incorporate; less expensive classes may include helping your culinary specialist with a tagine, while progressively costly classes may incorporate learning various dishes and shopping at the market for fixings.

Some all-around respected classes include:

Amal Women's Training Center

Bistro Clock

Dar Les Cigognes

Faim d'Epices

La Maison Arabe

Souk Cuisine

For

foodies

with a sweet tooth, Amal can likewise sort out a heating class.

Mint tea

THE SOUVENIRS TO BRING HOME Marrakech is shopping nirvana, you won't battle to fill your bag with treats. However, here are a couple of focuses to hold up under as a primary concern while looking for palatable trinkets: Argan oil. Morocco is the principle maker of argan oil, which is utilized in cooking and beauty care products. It's produced using the bits of argan nuts which develop on trees close Essaouira toward the south of Marrakech. Costs are high as the shelling of the nut is finished by hand, frequently by Berber ladies, and it's an undeniably mainstream fixing in beauty care products. On the off chance that the cost appears to be modest, it's likely weakened. Restorative evaluation oil is light and mellow, culinary oil will in general be darker as the nuts have been toasted before separating the oil. Search for oil put away in dim glass bundling. It has a medium smoke point however is predominantly utilized for dressings and plunging. There are various co-agents in Morocco that you can visit to purchase from the source. Flavors. The most mainstream flavor blend in Marrakech is ras el hanout. Signifying 'head of the shop', each store has its own adaptation of the blend which can contain over 20 distinct flavors. You can likewise get blends to use for reproducing your most loved tagine at home, just as shop for singular flavors, for example, cumin and cinnamon. In any case, while those engaging hills of flavors make for extraordinary photographs, flavors debase in contact with air so search for shops that store flavors in containers. Watch out for counterfeit saffron as well; this costly zest is frequently traded out for texture strands colored orange. Tagine. You'll see a lot of embellished earthenware production available to be purchased in the souks, however, these painted and coated marvels are frequently unsatisfactory for cooking because of the nearness

[megalony]

She’s cheated

Another part to my Swimming series which I’ve had a power surge to write today, I hope everyone is liking the series so far. Mentions of abuse and a lot of angst.

Thank you @marshmallowmae for being so helpful and invested in the story!

Taglist: @marshmallowmae  @likeit-or-leaveit  @they-call-me-peaches  @mcrmarvelloki  @bensrhapsody

Series masterlist

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Sorry." The word slipped passed her delicate lips on instinct as her arm retracted from his torso the moment she felt his stomach muscles pull inwards as if she had shocked him with electricity. His body coiling inwards, back rising from the bed ever so slightly at the sudden movement that sent his mind reeling into the abyss he should never go near.

It was always an old habit when (Y/n) turned over, for her to sling her arm over the person lying next to her whether she was awake or asleep. Her body just ran on automatic, always used to being able to curl up beside whoever was laid next to her. (Y/n) knew it wasn't Ben's fault that he couldn't stand that at night.

The first night she had stayed over they both came close to suffering heart attacks. (Y/n) didn't know what she had done wrong, one moment trying to lean into Ben, the next he was breathing like he was drowning as his body ripped from her hold. Forcing himself to sit up on the edge of the bed, his head resting in his hands as he stopped the tears in their tracks desperate not to cry in that moment. It didn't matter to Ben's unconscious mind that the girl lying next to him was someone he was falling for, someone that he loved and who loved him. The fact that Ben knew for definite that (Y/n) wouldn't hurt him in any way didn't help his unconscious mind. The fear that lurked in the recesses of his mind had access to a switch in his head that sent him on red alert when he felt threatened.

A simple gesture such as an arm lovingly holding him close was a threat because Ben had been subjected to things that had a lasting effect on his mind. An arm going around his torso was something that he had felt in his past relationship. It meant that he couldn't leave, it was a sign of possession that showed him he had no control over his own body and possibly not even his thoughts anymore.

On the nights when an argument had occurred an arm around his torso was a deadly sign. Sometimes it happened after a harsh shove to his back or a fist to the chest out of sheer anger if the argument hadn't been cleared up beforehand. The arm was an added threat that just screamed for the actor to try and escape its grasp.

Ben hated himself for having the instant reaction that he did because he knew that being with (Y/n) was different. He knew that it was a healthy relationship that posed no threat and was all he had ever wanted. Yet his body still betrayed him, tensing at her touch and shuddering as if he was biding his time waiting for her to start an attack on him. Even now after they had spent a few weeks sharing the same bed he still couldn't deal with the fact that her arm slipped around him because she simply wanted to hold him close. There had only been one time when it had been alright and that was when he was asleep. Her arm subconsciously wrapped around him and he dulled down the panic when he woke up later to find her pressed up to his back, her arm holding him close.

"I won't always be like this." Ben mumbled in response, his head turning to his left so he could glance over at her half awake form. Knowing she wouldn't be awake for much longer.

"I don't care if you're always like this, Ben. Whatever you're comfortable with is perfect for me." (Y/n) couldn't have him thinking that she was annoyed with him because she wasn't. Never would she be annoyed or angered with him for not feeling comfortable or safe. If he couldn't deal with certain levels of affection she would simply take what she could get and make sure he was alright. If Ben needed time or to take things slower in their relationship she would let him set the pace.

Pushing Ben wouldn't do any good because he had been hurt. His mind needed to be sure that he wasn't in danger and if that meant keeping to separate sides of the bed at night (Y/n) would do that. Hell, she would sleep in a different room for the rest of her life if it meant Ben felt protected and out of harm's way.

Ben watched her shuffle a few inches away onto the other side of the bed, her head burrowing into the pillow as he heard her quiet breaths evening out signalling she was falling asleep. He didn't want to be this way. He wanted to have the kind of relationship where he could wrap an arm around her and pull her to his chest. Or to have her wrap herself around him like a vine and never let go. He wanted to feel fine with her sneaking up behind him and wrapping him up in a hug. Or to be able to do domestic things like make dinner together because it was killing the actor to have to tell (Y/n) that those things made him suffer panic attacks.

To have (Y/n) wrap her arms around him from behind was what he wanted, but when she had tried Ben had literally shouted in fear. His body quickly wrenching itself from her hold, bolting across the floor with his head in his hands as he tried to regain his breath back.

He had been pushed from behind too many times. Trying to walk away in an argument to have his ex suddenly slam her hands into his back and force him to the ground. Or having her just suddenly sneaking up on him to pounce and start her vicious attack. That had happened too many times for Ben to feel remotely comfortable with anyone doing that to him and he couldn't see a future where he would be fine with a sneak attack like that. Even if it was out of love or affection Ben couldn't shake the fear of being hurt.

There wasn't a way that Ben could even do something so calming and domestic such as cooking with (Y/n). She had brought about the idea and Ben tried. He forced himself to go along with it because people always said to try and push yourself out of your comfort zone even if just a little. He thought he would be alright with that. To stand by her side and make the three of them dinner like normal couples do because that was all he wanted. Ben wanted to be rid of his physical and mental scars and be a normal couple. Do things that (Y/n) wanted to do and make them feel normal and as if his ex hadn't had this much of an impact on his life.

Yet the moment that (Y/n) had picked up the knife to cut the vegetables Ben couldn't breathe. The way she turned to face him with her hand hovering over the chopping board slightly close to his arm made him stumble back from her violently shaking his head in a silent plea not to hurt him.

He'd put his foot down with his ex and told her she couldn't see Lola anymore because he needed to protect her. He'd never seen such rage in her eyes before her hand suddenly grasped the kitchen knife that she lunged at him with. Ben had been lucky that it was his upper arm that had been slashed, if he hadn't of put his arms up in defence it would have been his chest and who knows how deep she could have plunged the knife given half the chance. He'd needed stitches to fix the mark she made and something sweet to boost his levels when he'd lost more blood than the doctors would have liked.

It seemed that anything and everything that a couple could do in a relationship, his ex had changed into a nightmare for Ben. She had given him an alternative view and made him fear any aspect of a normal healthy relationship. Denying him the chance to experience it because her altered version flashed before his eyes instead.

It seemed that her hold over him was never going to let go.

Pulling the arm that resting over his eyes away from his head Ben turned his attention to the bedside table that held his phone which was now lighting up that corner of the room. The tune blaring through the speakers to alert him that he had an incoming call. Quickly accepting the call to stop from waking (Y/n) Ben sat up straighter, leaning against the headboard as he spoke quietly as not to disturb her.

Ben had never experienced such a feeling he did in that very moment. His heart had never given such a powerful pulse against his ribs before, never having beaten at this furious pace that was making him feel sick. He could feel every push of the blood through each chamber vibrating through his arteries and veins. The blood rushing to his head and ears quicker than any other part of his body as the phone dropped from his hand, landing with a thud on the carpeted floor to his right. 

Pulling his knees up so they were almost connecting to his stomach Ben pressed his temple to the tops of his knees. Both hands locking themselves in the curls that had been pushed back on his head folding neatly over one another. His grip so tight he could feel a few single hairs wrapping around his fingers as they become disconnected from his scalp. Why was someone doing all of this to him? Why did some kind of external being decide that Ben needed to be put through all of these torture methods? Were they testing his faith, his strength, his mental state

A groan that came right down from the pit of his gut vibrated against his throat and bounced from his tightly clamped lips. The air being sucked through his nose and forced back out at an alarmingly quick rate to keep up with the demand from his heart that was going to overload itself any moment now. The most horrific, ear-shattering scream (Y/n) had witnessed in her life wrenched her from her half-conscious state. Her body bolting upright faster than the speed of sound from the noise that burst her eardrums and vibrated through her veins along with her blood. Her spine clicking into place as she shivered out of instinct.

She didn't know what to do. The moment she set her hand down on Ben's shoulder he forcefully nudged his shoulder to her arm to tell her to get off of him before he screamed again. His body quaking like the world beneath his feet was breaking apart. Another petrifying sound that (Y/n) could barely make out as a scream hit her horrified form. Watching as Ben's head lifted from his knees only for his hands to leave his hair and plaster to his face. Doing nothing to muffle the sounds leaving his throat that felt like it was made of sandpaper.

"Ben... please talk to me. Breathe and try to tell me what's happened." (Y/n)'s words were broken and quiet as she pleaded with him to let her in on the secret he wasn't letting her know about.

Her eyes drifting from looking at his barely visible frame in the dark to glancing to the door when Lola's worried cries filtered through the air. Her father's agonising screams obviously scaring the bones from the one and a half year old. Deciding that Ben wasn't in any state to talk just yet (Y/n) climbed off of the bed, running out of the room to go and see to Lola instead.

"Baby... baby shush. It's alright darling, I've got you." (Y/n) hushed once the toddler was in her arms. Her head resting in the crook of her mother's neck, hands fisting (Y/n) pyjama top as her cries went straight through (Y/n)'s ears. The toddler practically shaking as her face was becoming blotchy and red from the tears soaked into her mother's shirt. Clinging to the elder woman for dear life, unsure of what the other screams were or who they were coming from but knowing she felt afraid.

(Y/n) watched the door as she gently bounced Lola up and down, daring herself to go back to Ben when she heard a choking sound vibrating through the walls and into Lola's room. Resting her hand to the back of the toddler's head (Y/n) kissed her ash blonde curls, tears leaving her own eyes in fright as she didn't know what was being asked of her in this situation. Ben had never acted like this around her, she didn't know what was the right course of action that was meant to help him. Nor did she know whether going to try and help him with their daughter in her arms was a good idea or not.

Settling on the knowledge that Lola couldn't see her father in that state (Y/n) eased her back down into her cot, fumbling to play the small tape next to the cot which played a tune that helped the toddler to sleep. Turning the volume up a bit higher before heading out of the room with the intention to come straight back in a few minutes.

Clamping her hand around the doorframe her body came to a sudden halt, unsure of what to do when her eyes landed on her distressed boyfriend. Seeing Ben slumped over the bin in the corner of the room, emptying the contents of his stomach into it as he continued to choke out sobs around his heaving.

There was no time for (Y/n) to even try to speak or even rub his back as he threw up before he was crawling on the floor away from the bin like he was Lola's age all of a sudden. His hand grasping his phone before he used the bed as leverage, forcing his weight up onto shaking legs that nearly buckled from turning to jelly. (Y/n) froze as Ben stumbled past her, forcing his way through the doorframe she was standing in and falling in the hallway. His hand plastering to the wall to keep himself upright as he let out another sound resembling a war cry. His body collapsing over the back of the sofa before he pushed himself upright, holding the phone to his ear in desperation.

"Wh- Ben! Who are you calling it's two in the morning?"

"E-Em! You have to h-help me!" Ben cried, his hand leaving the sofa to pull at his hair again. A flood of pain rushing to his head as he tugged too tightly on the strands connecting to his skin that were nearly ripped out from his force. Shaking his head and snapping his eyes closed when the feeling became all too familiar.

She had clamped her fingers around his hair once. Dragging him with her by the strands on his head before he managed to push her away from him out of sheer horror.

"S-she... oh God.... Em, she's dead. She o..overdosed Em. You have to c-come help me s-she can't do this to me!" Pure agony was the only emotion (Y/n) could hear in her boyfriend's broken and desperate tone as he pleaded with his sister and best friend to come down and save him from whatever fear was running through his head. Ben felt cheated, how could she have just done this to him without caring? How could his ex have decided to overdose when she had experienced no amount of pain that she had inflicted upon him in a two year period?

She deserved to be tortured like Ben.

To have him or someone else grab her by the hair on her head and drag her so she fell to her knees. She deserved to have someone trap her hand in the door and slam the lock onto her fingers to watch her scream. His ex deserved someone to run at her with a knife and break apart the skin to cause a deep gash that would bleed all over her clothes.

She deserved to feel a portion of the suffering she had inflicted on Ben because that was how the world should work. Justice needed to be served to those who had suffered and had been wronged, no one should get to walk free from their crimes without a care in the world. Death was no justice for Ben, she didn't suffer in death she escaped.

"She can't do this to me." Ben sobbed when he dropped the phone onto the sofa, satisfied his sister was coming over right this minute to help. His head lowered as his words broke (Y/n)'s heart into fractured pieces splintering into her skin. The thought of Ben feeling uncomfortable in her head seemed to disappear from both their minds at that moment. (Y/n) knew if she didn't hold Ben now he was liable to do something to himself that would only make things worse.

When her arms pulled him down to her he didn't object. His muscles didn't tighten in fear, his body didn't jerk out of her hold out of instinct that he was always in danger. His mind didn't press the panic button or tell Ben he needed to move away for his own safety before (Y/n) or some other threat endangered him or even Lola. Nothing came to mind except one thought that floated around in his head on a loop. His temple pressing to her shoulder as his arms encased her waist to his own, allowing her to hold him up so he didn't collapse to the floor in a broken mess. He was fractured, his body broken into fragments that were being held together by her arms and once she let go of him all of those pieces were going to break apart.

"She's cheated!"

[elizabeth-234]

Chapter Twenty-five

Someone to Care

Chapter Twenty-four

Summary: What happens when everyone makes an assumption about their friendly neighborhood spider?

Peyton’s eyes snapped open. She could feel the pounding in her chest reverberate throughout the cavity where it resided but heedless of the motion she remained still. Sleep clung to her like the winter creeps into springtime. The only thing in her sight was the ceiling, which was speckled and the paint peeled back in the left corner. From the angle where she was reclined Peyton could see the slight bowing in the ceiling from a water leakage in the apartment above them.

The people upstairs, The Carlos family, hadn’t been able to fix it in time and their ceiling was permanently shaped because of it. The curve bugged May to no end but Peyton thought that it added more character to their apartment. It was where her family habituated, where they loved. Sure, it wasn’t perfect, but it was theirs. Now May never said anything about the ceiling but Peyton would catch her scowling at it when she had a bad day.

It wasn’t a total black stain on their home either. Her and May became friends with the family. All their children were grown and moved out so they asked Peyton to watch their cat when they were on vacation and always brought treats down for them, too. It was nice knowing someone in the building. It made the place seem less isolating.

A rustling sound brought Peyton out of her musings and, making sure to stay quiet, Peyton turned her head to face the room. Her heart released fuzzy feeling into her chest as she spied her aunt and Nat asleep on the smaller couch across the room. The couch was pushed against the wall and the two were both kind of tipped over. May’s head was resting on Nat’s shoulder with the other resting on May’s head. Peyton did not envy the sore muscles they would have when they woke up but their faces were unlined in rest.

Peyton started stretching her back and arms when she flexed her hand, immediately freezing. There was something in her hand. She moved her head forward and the muscles in the back of her neck trembled trying to catch a look. She spotted a tuft of brown hair from over the couch edge and making sure to keep her trapped hand relaxed she stretched her legs to get a better view. Mr. Stark’s head was bent, leaning backwards against the couch. His mouth, which always seemed to be in movement, was similarly open in sleep but quiet. Peyton stifled a giggle at the line of drool down the side of his mouth.

She realized he must have slept beside her on the floor the whole night and looked back at their hands ignoring the heat seeping up her neck. Peyton wondered why he was there when so different from the creeping mist in her dream she remembered. The memories came flooding back and she was relived that it was just a dream. Her head flopped back onto the pillow. The terror she experienced was so real and the helplessness threatened to overcome her once again. The hand resting in her own was the only thing keeping her grounded in the living room.          

Peyton had been doing well since leaving the Tower. At least, she thought she was. School was at the forefront of her mind and keeping her grades was important to her and May. She finally made some more time for Ned outside of school. They hit the final level of their game at last and were going to spend a night next week eating snacks and beating it. One of the benefits of May’s raise was that her aunt could spend more time with her. They started exploring the city, picking up the tradition her and Ben used to do. How the city had changed since she was little. May took them to a cat café the other week and sitting there on the ground petting a sleeping cat was about the most relaxing thing Peyton had done in a while. She still was bothered by dreams but through the meditations she was proud that she wasn’t waking May up anymore.  It was something she needed to work on.

Even after all of the good that was happening around her a sly voice whispered the truth to her whenever her defenses were down. A truth she didn’t want to hear. Although all her homework was in on time, her motivation was lacking. Her and Ned talked regularly but more often than not she found herself distracted and losing track of their conversations. Her patrols were difficult lately as well. The distractions in her everyday life bled over to her daily outings. It was like an itch that she couldn’t scratch.

The night before last she was swinging around the city. Her heart hadn’t been in it and the feeling of the wind moving through her body or rather her body slicing through the air was so freeing that Peyton, loath as she was to admit it, was more focused on her thoughts than looking for danger in the city.

She rounded a corner, focusing on her form to increase her speed and streamline her body to curve the corner as tightly and fast as possible. She closed her eyes when the building seemed to rise up out of nowhere. The tall cement walls shot out from the bottom of her sightline and she landed against it, dropping straight down until she caught herself by the tips of her fingers. Her breath halted in her chest before panting in and out, causing her lips to dry out.

Peyton hung there with one arm stretched above her and let the brick rest on her forehead, the mask the only thing in between her and the wall. Her arm started to strain and she forced herself up, swinging to the top of the building while pushing through the trembling in her muscles. There was a secluded corner behind some vents that she hid behind. Peyton didn’t know how long she sat there with her head resting on her knees. Her eyes stared unseeing at the darkness between her raised legs.

As she lay on the couch she squeezed her eyes shut. While the memory wasn’t one of her worst she tried to block it out. Block out how the dark sky and cold breeze surrounded her until she was numb. How with shaking legs she made her way home ignoring the calls on her phone from her aunt and the calls of the city.

Peyton didn’t realize she was crying until gentle hands swiped her cheeks. Hastily she opened them trying to see through the watery obstacles. Mr. Stark held out a handkerchief. Her face flushed and she rose to sit up, wiping her eyes. She smiled at the initials embroidered in the corner. The threading wasn’t perfect and suddenly the image of him hemming her sleeves came to mind. The thought of Mr. Stark laboring on a handkerchief made her giggle and she ignored the raised eyebrow from the man next to her.

He sat there staring ahead at her aunt and Nat. They stayed quiet as they sat. Her eyes were heavy and she leaned her head against his shoulder, smiling when she felt a weight a top of her now bent head. The hazy morning sun slowly crept into the room and Peyton’s eyes blinked closed as her breaths deepened. Sleep didn’t take her but it was nice to relax, to just not think and be for a moment.

The weight above her shifted slightly and she noticed that Mr. Stark was rubbing his neck. She cringed when she the popping noise coming from the bone.

“I say we make breakfast. What do you think?”

His eyebrows rose but a smile appeared as he assented. Careful not to wake the other occupants of the room they went to the kitchen. Peyton grabbed out the ingredients and lined them up on the counter. She looked over her shoulder to see Mr. Stark standing in the middle of the room. His clothes were wrinkled from sleeping and still looked far too nice to be in her kitchen let alone cooking breakfast. His slight frown turned deeper when she handed him a measuring cup.

“So, we’re going to make waffles.” She smiled at his helpless expression and pushed the bag of flour toward him. “Two cups of flour in the bowl, please.”

They commenced making breakfast, only spilling a few ingredients in the process. Their laughter must have woken May and Nat up because the women shuffled into the kitchen with tired eyes, which widened in shock as they stared at their flour ridden faces and crumbs scattering the floor. The waffles were golden and they sat and ate around the small table. Although, Mr. Stark’s clothes looked strange in the kitchen for some reason she thought they didn’t look strange in this setting, with the company around him. In fact, the other three people at the table felt so naturally she would have thought they had breakfast together everyday.

Peyton’s eyes roamed around the room spotting the picture of Ben, May, and her. She remembered the day with fondness instead of tears. Her eyes drifted back to the table and landed on May. Peyton thought her smile was a little wider today, more reaching into her eyes than usual.

Their talking and sporadic laughter filtered around her and Peyton closed her eyes. She thanked the world silently. The love for her aunt who never wavered in the face of adversity and was always there for Peyton (even when she was being difficult) poured out of her. She was grateful for Nat. Their very own guardian angel who could go from literally saving the day to helping pick which outfit to wear to school. It was nice to think that maybe her and May also helped Nat open up more and experience new things. Lastly, she watched as Mr. Stark erupted in laughter when someone made a joke. His eyes sparkled as he poured more syrup over his waffles.

She remembered her hand shaking when she opened the door to The Split Bean. Her eyes found him right away sitting alone at a table, but she couldn’t bring herself to walk over yet. Peyton stood in line imagining the different ways she should introduce herself while her eyes continuously flitted over to him. This meeting had only been apart of her wildest fantasies for her life and she hoped beyond hope that it would go well. That this was actually real. She wished he could see her for who she was and not what people assumed she was.

With a deep breath she walked over to the table. He didn’t look up and she shifted her feet that wanted to run away before he could reject her. She cleared her throat and for the first time Peyton looked into his brown eyes without any barriers between them. They swirled with confusion and he made to leave.

Something swarmed inside of her and she spoke hoping to keep him seated. He lowered back down and she saw the realization in his widened eyes. Her voice betrayed her and she couldn’t tell if she was glad for it. Mr. Stark sat in silence and she let him process. An itch made its way through her limbs and she shifted her feet again. The embarrassment manifested across her face in bright red and she all but threw the scone in his face wanting to break the silence with some action. The result was that he looked even more perplexed

At once she was filled with worry. What if he was allergic? What if he didn’t want anything and she forced it on him? He spoke so kindly, though, and never turned her away. Instead, he offered her a seat and, even more unusual, steered around any questions about Spidergirl and asked about her day. He asked about her, not Spidergirl. Before she realized what was happening they were having as normal a conversation as her nerves would allow. She was having coffee with Tony Stark after all.

Her face drained of color at him thinking she didn’t want to help. Peyton knew that’s what she should have started off by saying. Nothing could stop her from helping and she had to say it. She had to tell Mr. Stark that she was on his side after reading all the documents. The resulting furrow of his eyebrows and silence was answer enough. He thought that everything was his fault; that the Accords and resulting rift were because of him. Peyton was proud that she spoke up, that she offered her help. There was a faint pink tinge to his skin and she knew that she said the right thing.

They shook hands, finally introducing themselves to each other, and they weren’t Iron Man and Spidergirl anymore but two people meeting and getting to know each other.

Sitting at the table she was surprised by how much she noticed now. By the slight squinting in his left eye Peyton could tell he was tired but the teeth wide smile showed how content he was. How relaxed he was because his eyes didn’t scan the room like they normally did when he was upset.

Peyton smiled at the table as she helped herself to more strawberries. This family that she was apart of were fractured. All of them separately faced more trials than anyone should in their whole lives but somehow they found their way to each other. They found a safe place. Looking at their faces over breakfast Peyton was reminded of how far they had all come. She had yearned for someone to care but had ended up with so much more.

End of Part One

I can't believe how far this story has come. It was my first foray into writing fan fiction and I have fallen in love with it. There are not enough words in order to do justice to the appreciation I feel for everyone who has taken part in this story in any and every way. Simply, thank you.

As you can see this is the end of part one of Peyton and her family's journey. I have the second part plotted out but want to participate in whumptober (my first one)!

[gallymagines]

Make Me Remember - Gally x Reader Part 12

Word Count: 5.1K

Warnings: Cuteness (but like for real none)

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

Ben’s POV:

Waking up I wonder to myself if everything went well last night. I hope it did because I don’t know how much longer the rest of the gladers and I can put up with ticking time bomb Gally. Leaving my resting spot by the gardens I make my way over to the homestead for breakfast. I usually go wake up Gally for breakfast, although it’s not like he's a heavy sleeper. Heading into the sleeping area I hope that he’s feeling better. When I look around the room he’s not there. He’s not in his bed, he’s not even walking around. Where could he have gone? Shrugging my shoulders I leave the sleeping area and go into the kitchen to grab some food.  When I enter I see Gally sitting at our table. Please be in a good mood, please be in a good mood, please be in a good mood. I finally make it to the table to sit down and he monotonously says,

“I’ll get our plates.”

As he gets up and heads over to get breakfast I see that Y/N walked into the kitchen. I watch as she makes her way over to get food. She turns her head to give me a wave but as she does that she bumps right into Gally. You can hear people suck in their breath as they wait for Gally to explode. Please...don’t.

“Oh, sorry Gally!” Y/N apologizes

Gally looks at her intensely. Oh no...It didn’t go well. I hold my breath hoping for the yelling to be over as quick as it comes. Instead of yelling though I hear laughter,

“Don’t worry about it!” Gally cheerfully replies “Hungry?”

Y/N nods her head yes and they walk together to get their food. The whole kitchen lets out their breaths and I relax a bit. I guess things did go well! Once the realization that he wouldn’t explode at Y/N sets in, a general feeling of confusion washes over the kitchen. How could he be so carefree when just yesterday he had been yelling at anyone who barely grazed him? I know how. Gladers watch as they walk up to the cooks to get their food together smiling and talking when only a day before they couldn’t even look at each other. Eric gets up from the table the other builders sit at and approaches me. Leaning down next to me he asks,

“What’s up with Gally? Is he like, not going to kill us today?”

“Uh, I’m not sure what’s up with him, to tell you the truth,” I say

I lied. 

Maybe it wasn’t quite obvious to everyone else yet, but Gally and Y/N definitely have something. I’m not sure what it is yet, but it’s something alright. Eric leaves to go back to his table and the pair make their way over here. Gally hands me my plate before sitting down next to Y/N to eat.

“Well, I’m glad to see the two of you are best friends again.” I comment “I don’t know how much longer we would’ve survived if you guys didn’t make-up. I mean Gally probably would’ve started killing people by day seven.”

“Oh no, I missed out on sacrifices in my name?” Y/N says sarcastically “Gally we can’t be friends anymore.”

“What! No!” I exaggeratedly cry out 

“Stop it, you’re scaring him.” Gally jokes giving Y/N a little shove

They share a glance and a laugh. It’s nice to see Gally happy. After the chaos of the last couple of days, I’m happy to know he’s not going to have an explosion of anger every 5 minutes. It’s also good that now something brings him happiness other than kicking the klunk out of gladers. The three of us enjoy our breakfast together but before long it’s time to go to work. We all get up and exit the kitchen. Y/N gives us one last goodbye, well gives Gally one last goodbye, before heading to the gardens. He watches her walk away before we head to the project we’ve been working on. As we walk towards the other builders I say,

“So I see everything went according to plan last night.”

“Yeah, thanks for letting me know you shank.” He remarks

“Oh, If I had let you in on what was happening you never would’ve gone!” I exclaim

“You’re right, you’re right.” He says putting his hands up

“I’m just glad you two are best friends again,” I comment

“Why did you say best friends like that?”

“Like what?” I ask “I don’t know what you mean.”

I did know what he meant.

“Nevermind.” He replies waving it off

When we finally get to the rest of the builders they look worried about what’s in store for today. With all of them wide-eyed, Gally says,

“We’ve made some good progress but let’s get to work.”

Things are getting better in the glade. I can sense it.

***

Newt’s POV:

I had been working a lot more closely with Y/N in the gardens and though it had only been a couple of days I noticed a drastic shift in her demeanor. Ever since she and Gally started hanging out at meals again the light in her eyes not only came back but it grew brighter each day. It was nice, and a welcome turn around compared to what it was 6 days ago. As we worked side by side picking vegetables I noticed her eyes wander from the beds of plants in front of her towards where the homestead is. I’ve noticed that she does this all the time now, especially when it gets closer to dinner. At first, I thought it was because she was just hungry or tired but I realized the pattern quickly. Once the dinner bell calls Gally leaves the builders to pick her up from the gardens and they head to dinner together.

“Not too much longer love,” I say to her

“Huh?” She questions

“The dinner bell. I’ve noticed that you get awfully anxious for it every day.” I reply

“I don’t know what you mean.” She states with a tone that says ‘I do know but I refuse to admit it’

“Mhmm sure,” I remark

Y/N turns back to her work and putting vegetables in her basket. She picked a lot today. After working a bit longer the dinner bell rings. Y/N’s head snaps so fast toward the direction of the homestead that I thought it might fly right off. And just like clockwork, I could see a group of gladers head to the kitchen for dinner and one of them start walking toward the gardens. Y/N and I stand up and grab our baskets. I easily pick mine up but Y/N has some trouble lifting hers. I think she may have picked too many vegetables today. As I continue to watch her try to lift the basket, a voice behind us says,

“Here I got it.”

It’s Gally, of course.

“Oh no, you don’t have to do that!” Y/N tries to convince him

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.” He replies

I observe their interaction. She watches as he bends over to pick up the basket, her eyes following his every movement. When he stands up straight his posture is tall and his shoulders a squared back. Gally also holds the vegetable basket in such a way that it makes his arm muscles strain and flex. I can’t tell if he did it on purpose or not but I see that Y/N notices. It was a blink and you’ll miss moment, but for a quick second her eyes leave from looking at him and go towards his upper arms. Before he can notice though she looks back at him and nudges him playfully towards the homestead. Slowly, I trail behind them continuing to watch them like some sort of scientist. I’ve honestly started to fancy observing them. I’ve never seen interactions like theirs before. At least from my experience in the glade and from what I can remember. They’re...different. As we all entered the kitchen we dropped off the baskets of vegetables and I continued my “study”. I quickly grabbed a plate and sat down at a table that was near their regular one. I watched as together they grabbed their dinner for the night, Gally grabbing his first but waiting until Y/N had hers to even consider walking. They walked almost shoulder to shoulder to the table and sat on the same side. I leaned in more to make sure I could see every little detail because this was just so intriguing to me. Just then Minho approaches and asks,

“What are you doing?”

“Shhhh...” I say waving him down

Minho sits down next to me but not before replying,

“I don’t know why you’re waving me to like duck down or something. We are in an open space, filled with people. You know that right?”

“Yes, now bloody slim it,” I command

He rolls his eyes and starts to munch down on his meal as I go back to work. I see the two specimens laughing together. As Gally starts to calm down Y/N continues to laugh. She reaches out and grabs Gally’s upper arm and with that, he immediately assumes a more strong posture again. Chest forward, shoulder back, chin up. I take note of the fact that the shank is definitely trying to make himself look bigger. What I didn’t expect to take note of was the emotion in their eyes as they looked at each other. It was gentle, genuine and full of something else that I couldn’t quite place. A bit of hair falls in front of Y/N’s eyes and without hesitation as if the movement was already ingrained into his brain, Gally reaches up and pushes the strand behind her ear. Her eyes widen a bit before she quickly turns her head away. A smile graces her lips and a light pink tint appears on her cheeks. Quietly she says,

“Thank you, Captain,” 

“You’re welcome Princess,” He replies gently

Captain? Princess? What a discovery. I didn’t even think we were at the nickname level. What else is there to learn? Pulling myself out of my thoughts I go back to the two subjects of mine. Y/N is still faced away but Gally’s eyes are locked on her. There’s a light smile on his face. And then there’s that emotion in his eyes again but I think I know what it is. Adoration. The rest of the dinner goes just as any other would. Dinner is finished, plates are given to the sloppers to clean and people start heading to where they sleep. From the homestead I see Gally walk to drop Y/N off at her hut. Their hands at their sides gently brushing against each other as they walk. When they arrive at her space they turn to look at each other and I assume they say goodnight. They watch each other for a while before Y/N turns into her room and closes the door. Gally throws his hands in his pockets and rolls back and forth on his feet before making his way back over here. I decide that I watched them enough for tonight and head into the sleeping area of the homestead before Gally can see me. When I get to my bed I see Minho standing there with his arms crossed and brows furrowed. 

“What have you been doing? Lately, all I see is you constantly looking towards Y/N’s direction. Do you have a crush on her or something?” He asks

“No, no! She’s lovely and all but I only have platonic feelings for her.” I reply

“Mhmm, so why do you keep looking her way?” He questions further

I see Gally walk into the room and I reply to Minho.

“I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

***

Minho’s POV:

Ever since the moment Newt explained to me why he was constantly watching Y/N, I couldn’t stop watching either. He was right when he said that if you weren’t really looking you would never really see, but that was 7 days ago. Now you didn’t have to look too hard to see the way Y/N and Gally interacted with each other. It was unlike the way they treated or acted with others in the glade. Whenever they were allowed to be together they were inseparable. They were always the first people to show up for breakfast and dinner and the last people to leave. They literally only spend time apart because Alby’s rule says they have to. That wasn’t the worst part though. Gally has become super protective of Y/N when it comes to simple interactions with other gladers. Like insanely protective and he’s practically insane, to begin with. No matter who she’s talking to, they either get a death stare from across the glade, a yelling in person or if it’s close to meal time he’ll come up to the conversation and physically put himself in between the two. If you asked me, I’d say it’s some kind of jealousy issue. I was determined to prove I was right though. Walking over to where they sit for breakfast I slide myself across from Y/N next to Ben. They all give me quizzical looks but I ignore them and go on. 

“Good morning Y/N, you’re looking beautiful today.” I compliment

“I look like this every day.” She replies

“That’s the point. You’re always beautiful, at least to me.” I say with a wink

“Did you get stung by a griever or something? You’re a bit too cheerful this morning for my liking.” She retorts, disgust in her tone

“Nope. Not stung, just absolutely floored by your beauty!” I cheerfully state

“Uh huh.” She says rolling her eyes

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Gally start to inch closer to her. I decide to go on. 

“You know what Y/N?” I ask

“What.” She deadpans

“There are just so many things to admire about you other than your immense beauty.” I start “You’re kind and sweet, and tough, and you have those beautiful eyes.”

“My eyes are a physical feature. You said other than my beauty and yet you still can’t follow through.” She quips

“I’m just so forgetful because of how much you brighten up the glade. You brighten up my life and it makes me forget what I’m saying.” I try to come back

It doesn’t really matter how I may have messed up though because I’m getting results. Gally is practically by her side at this point and glaring bullets into my head. I know I need to do just a little more. I say,

“Y/N I think we should start hanging out more often like this. You know, just you and me and nobody else.”

“Well-” Y/N starts but is cut off

“Who shucking cares what you think Minho?! Nobody! That’s who!” Gally starts to yell

Others in the kitchen look this way and as Gally continues he wraps an arm around Y/N’s shoulders.

“If you couldn’t tell she’s doesn’t like you, she’s never liked you, and she’s never going to like you so slim it and back off her!” Gally finishes yelling

I was right. Not needing anything more, I get up and remark,

“Guess that’s my cue to leave.”

“Your cue was 5 responses ago.” Y/N retorts

As I’m about to leave I try to approach Y/N to apologize but before I can get any closer Gally stands up, puts himself between me and her, and crosses his arms. With his eyebrows angrily furrowed and a look that could kill on his face, I walk away before he actually does kill me. At least I have my answer. He’s jealous as all hell. I give my plate to the sloppers and head out of the kitchen ready to run.

***

After dinner, I decided to stay outside and just look up at the sky for a bit longer while everyone went to bed. I got bored of it after a while though and when that happened I finally started my walk to my bed in the homestead. As I get closer though I see a figure leave and make their way towards the deadheads. When I get inside the sleeping area I see that there is only one empty bed. Gally’s. I don’t know what he’s doing but my first instinct is to get others to go and follow him with me. I wake up Newt and Alby and instruct them to wait at the homestead until I get Ben from where he sleeps by the gardens. Once the four of us are together we all head towards the deadheads to see why he’s leaving in the middle of the night.

Gally’s POV:

Leaving the homestead I can’t help but think to myself about what happened today with Minho. He wasn't just trying to be near her. No, he was flirting with her. Flirting! He can’t do that. I won’t let him. I mean all he is, is trouble. He doesn’t even know Y/N, let alone care about her.  I mean what if he’s flirting with her to make her feel good before knocking her down and telling her she’s not? What if he’s being a slinthead out to play with her feelings and hurt her? What if all he wants to do is to make her feel like klunk? I can't let that happen. I won’t let that happen. She’s my best friend, she’s my princess, and it is MY job to make sure she is safe and doesn’t get hurt. Ben is the only other glader that I trust enough to be around her. I know he’s not going to hurt her and anyway he already told me he doesn't feel that way about her so he’s not a threat. Not that like other gladers are threats it’s just like I don’t trust their intentions with her. She’s a kind and caring person and I’d destroy the whole damn glade if some shank every upset her or made her feel bad. I mean I practically started to wreck the glade when I made her feel bad. I just really care about her and I’m not going to let anyone hurt her. As I continue walking I can spot the lantern light at the center opening in the deadheads. She’s already there. When I finally get to the clearing I see her sitting in her white dress looking at the stars. The light of the moon making her face glow. I approach her and she moves her eyes from the sky to me. She pats the ground next to her and I sit down. Turning her attention back to the stars, she asks me,

“What was all of that about with Minho today?”

“Nothing. I was just keeping him in his place.” I reply factually

More like keeping it in his pants...

“Okay, it’s just that you’ve been getting a bit irritated with some of the other gladers lately. I was just wondering if you wanted to talk about anything.” She mentions

“No, I’m fine,” I say

“You’re not stressed or anything?” she pries

I am stressed. I’m stressed about these other gladers doing anything to hurt her, but I’m also stressed about the complete opposite. What if one of them makes her so happy that she leaves me. We were best friends before the glade and we are again now. I’m stressed that I could lose my best friend again, but this time I’d remember it. I don’t want that to happen...

“I am stressed,” I say nodding my head yes

“I have a solution,” she starts

Y/N POV:

“Dance with me,” I say, finishing my statement

“What?” He asks

“A couple days ago when I was getting really stressed in the gardens, I had a memory and remembered that dancing helped me not worry so much. Maybe it’ll help you too.” I state

“You didn’t tell me you remembered something.” He comments “Did you get in trouble for stopping your work?”

“It didn’t seem relevant to bring it up and no I played it off like I was confused about how to harvest carrots. You’re avoiding what I’m saying though,” I reply

I stand up and extend a hand down towards him as he rolls his eyes. Slowly he grabs my hand and gets up after me. He shifts nervously while biting his lip.

“Well, how can we dance if there’s no music?” He protests looking away from me

“Like this,” I reply

I wrap my left arm around his neck and my right arm around his back. He doesn’t move at first but gently he wraps his right arm around my waist but uses his left to grab my arm from his back. Slowly, his hand slides from my forearm to my hand as he softly intertwines his fingers with mine. We stand still under the light of the moon for a second before we start to gently sway back and forth. I can feel as Gally relaxes. He lets his shoulders fall and lets his posture become less frigid. Closing my eyes I rest my head against him. As I listen to the sound of his heartbeat with one ear and feel a shock by the other. I have a good guess of what just happened but I keep my eyes shut a bit longer. I still feel my head resting though. Maybe the device didn’t go off. I carefully open my eyes and see a barely lit room full of pipes and cleaning supplies. I guess it did. My head looks around a bit and sees many people, some I recognize and some I don’t. Over in a corner to my right are younger looking versions Newt and Minho. My head looks to the left and I see a dark-haired boy and girl dancing with each other. I don’t recognize them though. My head then moves back forward and looks up. I’d know those green eyes anywhere. Gally. Somehow it’s a surprise and not a surprise to me that we’ve danced before. There’s a pink flush on this younger Gally’s cheeks as he looks down to me and asks,

“So uh...you don’t mind dancing like...well like this with me do you?”

“Do I mind slow dancing with you? Of course not! I’d rather dance with you then one of those clowns.” I reply, my head gesturing to the corner

“Oh...oh that’s good. I like dancing with you too.” He says

Gally looks towards the corner of guys and makes eye contact with Newt. Newt gives him some kind of nod and Gally slowly turns his attention back to me.

“Uh hey...princess?” He asks softly

“Yeah, Captain Gally?” My voice says cheerfully

My eyes stay focused on him as we dance while he avoids my gaze for a bit. He lets out a breath before making some direct eye contact with me. He opens his mouth and then says,

“So you know how like we're really close and are best friends...?” 

“Yeah,” My voice says

“And you know how when people go into the maze they don’t like remember stuff...?” He continues

“Yeah...” I answer

“Well, I uh...I have to tell you something before neither of us can remember. I uh...I-” He starts

Before I can hear the rest of his words though I’m pulled out of my memory. I’m brought back to the glade and hear yelling.

Newt’s POV:

Groggily I follow Minho towards the deadheads. I have no clue why he forced me to get up in the middle of the night. What is so bloody important that he has to show us right now.

“Minho, I’m not on the council why do you need me?” Ben sleepily asks

“Because this pertains to Gally and you are his friend so you’re coming along,” Minho replies firmly

I yawn dragging my feet behind Minho and the others. As we get to the Deadheads, Minho turns to us and says,

“We have to be quiet, so no talking beyond this point.”

“It’s only Gally. Can’t you just talk to him tomorrow? I mean maybe he’s going for a walk, he doesn’t sleep well. I don’t see a need for us to follow him Minho. I think we should all just leave it alone and go back to sleep.” Ben tries to convince him

“Why are you so against it Ben? This is your friend we’re talking about.” Minho questions

“There’s...there’s no reason to be against it. I’m not against it...I just think it’s uh...wrong to unexpectedly ambush someone y’know?” Ben shakily retorts

“Well if you’re not against it, then slim it. We’re heading in.” Minho commands

Ben fidgets a bit and bites his lips looking all around but I don’t know why. Slowly and quietly we all enter the deadheads and walk further and further in. There’s a light at the center that gets brighter the closer and closer we get. Once we get close enough, the sight I see snaps me out of my sleepy haze. It’s Gally and Y/N, and they’re slow dancing together. Her eyes are closed and he seems happy. Truly happy. From behind trees we all watch them dance but before long Minho jumps out and yells,

“I told you! I knew he wouldn’t come in here for nothing!”

“What the shuck is going on?!” Gally yells

The rest of us step out and Y/N jolts up looking towards Gally.

“What’s going on?” She asks furrowing her eyebrows in confusion

Gally uses his left hand to pull her back next to him in what seems to be a protective manner. I didn’t notice it until now, but his hand isn’t just holding hers, it’s intertwined with hers. I smile a bit to myself as Gally angrily glares at Minho.

“I asked what the shuck is going on so you better start explaining!” Gally commands

The rest of us step out from behind trees and the faces on both Y/N and Gally are filled with a mix of confusion and anger. Y/N turns her attention towards Ben and exclaims,

“Ben! Why didn’t you stop them!?”

“I tried! It’s hard to say don’t go in there without actually revealing the reason why!” He explains

“Is anyone going to answer my question?!” Gally yells at us

“Well, Minho saw you walking into the deadheads in the middle of the night and decided to wake us up to see what was going on because he had some suspicions.” Alby answers “So we’re here. Now can you explain to me what is going on because I’m pretty sure my rule was breakfast, dinner, bonfires only.”

“Alby, it’s not Gally’s fault. I kept telling him to meet me in the woods. He’s my best friend and I felt that breakfast and dinner was enough time so I thought if we met here once everyone is asleep it would be okay. Please don’t punish him for breaking the rule just because I missed him too much.” Y/N explains

“Is this true Gally?” Alby asks

Gally looks towards Y/N and their eyes lock. It’s like they’re having a conversation with no words. His eyes filled with concern and hers filled with pleading as if he didn’t want to say it’s true but she was begging him too. He turns his head away and closes his eyes for a brief moment before responding.

“Yes, it’s true...” he reluctantly says

“Well then, Y/N tomorrow you will spend your morning in the slammer until the greenie arrives. Is there anything else we should do Newt?” Alby comments

“We should reverse the rule,” I say 

“Really? Why do you say that?” Alby asks

“Many gladers have come up to me to tell me that it’s better if they’re together because then their emotions are more stable. Also, they’re going to keep seeing each other outside of their restricted time no matter what. We might as well rescind it so the Slammer isn’t taken up every day because they just want to see each other.” I explain

“Well, then after your time in the Slammer tomorrow Y/N the ruling will be rescinded,” Alby says

Gally and Y/N look towards the four of us and then towards each other. Within that look, I made a new observation. The emotion in their eyes isn’t adoration. It’s love. I don’t think either of them knows it nor realizes it, but it’s love. When the gaze breaks and their attention is back on us, Minho says,

“I’m assuming we’re done here so I’m going to bed. My work is done.”

The others all shake their heads and we head back to our respected places to sleep for the night.

***

Waking up and heading out of the sleeping area I could see groups of gladers huddled and talking amongst each other and I had a good idea about what it was. Word spreads fast in the glade so by the time breakfast rolled around almost everyone had heard about what happened in the deadheads last night. They heard about the rule-breaking, the rule reversal and everything in between. But that wasn’t the biggest revelation of the day. For a while, everyone knew that Gally and Y/N were close but there was still some idea that maybe someone else could be with her romantically. At this point, though I think everyone in the glade has a general unsaid understanding that Gally is Y/N’s guy and Y/N’s is Gally’s...well gal. Nobody could ever separate them and I think by this point nobody will try to. They're the only two in the glade who can’t see it but they’re in love. Nobody is going to tell them that though, that’s something they’ll have to figure out themselves. I finish my musings and my breakfast early and make my way over to the box. A new greenie arrives today.

???’s POV: 

Waking up I didn’t know where I was. I was in some kind of box slowly moving upwards. It was practically dark with flashes of light that rushed by. Frightened I move towards the corner. The box starts to move upwards faster and faster. Banging on the top of it I yell,

“HELP ME! HELP ME!”

As the box approaches a solid ceiling I collapse to the floor. It stopped. Above me, there is a red glow and a loud blaring noise. The light quickly turns green before disappearing altogether. The ceiling then opens to reveal a bright light and once my eyes focus I see people gathered around the opening above me. Two people open the grate above my head and a guy with green eyes jumps down to where I am. He says,

“Day one greenie. Rise and shine.”

A/N: Hey everyone! Finally got this done and not gonna lie I am so proud of it. Fun Fact: While I was doing my last read through Elvis Presley’s Can’t Help Falling In Love came on my Spotify and it felt like the world fell into place. Tell me what you think, I love feedback and talking about the plot. Thanks for reading! <3

[frozenfruitdrinksnejt059-blog]

Some Known Factual Statements About Best Frozen Fruits For Smoothies

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Frozen fruits are excellent for generally any type of occasion: breakfast, a snack, in a smoothie mix, a healthy and balanced treat ... the possibilities are truly countless. While a lot of nutritional experts say that nutrient damages from cold is very minimal, it's essential to keep in mind that (relying on the water web content of the fruit) the loss of specific antioxidants like beta-carotene is feasible during the freezing process.

Icing up fruits on your own at the height of ripeness may in fact slow the ripening or degeneration process, preserving the levels of certain healthy nutrients, like vitamins, minerals and also phytochemicals. Actually, the pre-packaged frozen variation may be no even worse than the fresh, which will commonly experience some nutrition loss during its trip from farm to supermarket.

Throughout the cold procedure, the water inside the fruit's cells broadens as it freezes, which in some cases triggers cell membranes to swell or burst, resulting in a softer structure when the fruit is thawed. The remedy? Eat the icy fruit when it's still frozen http://edition.cnn.com/search/?text=frozen fruits (so refreshing), coat it in chocolate or pop it in a blender, in which case the appearance won't make a distinction.

Frozen Blueberries Things To Know Before You Get This

What Does Frozen Fruit Salad Do?

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Experiment with these 6, as well as you'll be well on your method to icy fruit happiness. Katherine Carroll Water web content: 74% Frozen bananas are not only tasty, but are likewise a terrific way to protect and obtain extra usage out of excessively ripe bananas. If you're trying to find a healthy and balanced treat choice, try banana "good" cream, a simple version of "gelato" that has just one ingredient: icy bananas.

Get rid of the peels before cold to make them a lot easier to eat as soon as iced up. Anika Mian Water web content: 81% Undoubtedly, I'm not a significant follower of regular grapes, but when frozen, they transform, coming to be much sweeter as well as taking on a nearly ice cream-like structure. Grapes are well-known for being a high-sugar fruit, yet at just 62 calories per mug, they pale in contrast to a "tiny" late-night snack, like a solitary cup of Ben & Jerry's Cookie Dough Ice Lotion (540 calories).

Anika Mian Water content: 85% I didn't assume anything might be more refreshing than blueberries until I uncovered the Holy Grail: icy blueberries. Stay with the frozen selection, and also never ever again will you have to experience via the discomfort of out-of-season berries (read: mushy or tasteless). You can purchase them in gallon bags, yet I directly suggest cold them right in the carton.

|

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Table of ContentsSome Known Factual Statements About Fruit Smoothie Frozen Fruit The Best Guide To Fresh FruitsNot known Details About Frozen Fruit Bars Get This Report on Frozen Fruit Smoothie Mix

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When frozen, every bite preferences like a less-artificial Dreamsicle. Comparable to bananas, get rid of the peel prior to cold to ensure that you have easy access to the newly iced up items. Water material: 87% Icy raspberries melt in your mouth like a Hershey's kiss. Pop them in a blender or food processor with a little sugar and a splash of almond milk as well as you have actually obtained a hugely very easy raspberry sorbet.

Honestly, there are couple of things much better than coming residence to the view of a fruit-filled fridge freezer. Icy fruit is hands down the most convenient, healthiest as well as most tasty means to #treatyoself. Bear in mind, though, to stay with low-water-content fruits for far better taste, structure and total nutrient material.

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Whether your food store is out of your favorite fruit and vegetables or you're trying to limit your journeys to the supermarket, icy fruits as well as veggies are a great alternative. They can be a lot more nutritious than their fresh equivalents, as they're flash-frozen as well as will certainly maintain nutrients without ruining. And they're wonderful to carry hand when you wish to incorporate some healthy elements right into your meals.

They're nutrient-rich and also will certainly function in plenty of different recipeswe've also consisted of some dish suggestions to obtain you began. Polina Prokofieva/ShutterstockStrawberries are a morning meal (and also dessert) classic for a factor. They're high in vitamin C and are tasty in baked items, mixed right into smoothies, or offered atop yogurt or oatmeal for a hearty breakfast.

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Ekaterina Kondratova/ShutterstockIf you can locate icy butternut squash at your regional supermarket, it deserves a buy! You can add the dices to baked mac as well as cheese for a nutritional boost, or roast the dices and also offer them atop a salad. The finest component? You do not have to do the job of chopping the squash yourself.

Here are 20 Hard-to-Find GroceriesAnd Where to Locate Them. ShutterstockFrozen peas are good for even more than אבקת חלבון calming your pains as well as discomforts! Adding peas to your meals will offer you an additional protein increase as well as supply you with greater than three grams of fiber, also. Enjoy them in stir-fries or added to soups.

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ShutterstockYou don't have to damage out the spiralizer each time you desire a pasta alternative. Brand Names like Trader Joe's and also Environment-friendly Giant offer spiralized zucchini, carrots, as well as a lot more. Throw them with pasta sauce or stir-fry them for a low-carb dinner. Try out your spiralized veggies in this recipe for Zucchini Pasta with Turkey Meatballs.

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Table of ContentsThe Ultimate Guide To Frozen Fruit SaladFrozen Fruit Drinks Things To Know Before You BuyFrozen Strawberries Can Be Fun For Everyone

Diana Taliun/ShutterstockWhatever method you purchase itcanned, frozen, or freshcorn is a delicious means to include even more flavor as well as nutrients to your meal. Usage frozen corn in homemade salsas or white chili dishes. We like these 20 Corn Recipes That Crush It. ShutterstockBroccoli is a great source of vitamin C, vitamin A, as well as vitamin K.

Try toasting it with garlic or sauting it stovetop for an easy side recipe. For a super-easy recipe, try these Broccoli-Cheese Eggs in a Mug. ShutterstockFresh cherries can be costly, so keeping the icy selection on your shopping checklist is a should if you're attempting to conserve money. Place the fruit to good use in this Wonderful as well as Creamy Chocolate-Covered Cherry Smoothie Dish Recipe.

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Use it in any kind of recipes where you 'd use normal rice! These 20 Cauliflower Rice Recipes are a wonderful place to start. ShutterstockNo, you can't go to your favorite sushi place during quarantine, however you can still make a scrumptious dish of edamame in your home. Just microwave some icy edamame, add a little salt, and also you're excellent to go.

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George Dolgikh/ShutterstockYou don't have to wait up until Thanksgiving rolls around to take pleasure in a tasty side recipe of Brussels sprouts. If you acquire them iced up, they're wonderful any kind of time of year! Try cooking them with bacon for a delicious addition to any dish. Try the veggie in this Brussels Sprouts Garnished With Bacon and also Almonds Dish.

How Fruit can Save You Time, Stress, and Money.

They do not need to be baked into a casseroleyou can cook frozen eco-friendly beans for an easy side dish to any kind of chicken supper. Try these 17 Good-for-You Eco-friendly Bean Recipes. ShutterstockAs with bananas, you may not find icy grapes in your food store. However you can freeze fresh grapes for a quick as well as simple treat! You can even utilize them to cool down your a glass of wine without watering it downall of these usages are why grapes are one of the 50 Foods You've Been Eating Wrong Your Whole Life.

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Registered Dietitian and also Nutritional expert Ilana Muhlstein shed her weight as well as kept it offand in You Can Drop It!, she'll reveal you how to lose it, also. More than 240,000 customers have actually picked her programand now it's your own to maintain.

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Table of ContentsFrozen Mangos Can Be Fun For AnyoneThe Ultimate Guide To Fruit Freeze

The potassium in cherries additionally makes them a terrific exercise recuperation snack (given that potassium is an electrolyte), so Cascio claims including them in a post-run or post-virtual exercise smoothie mix can help nourish muscle mass. One study published in the European Journal of Sports Science discovered that cherry concentrate result in less muscle mass soreness post-workout. "One more enjoyable reality concerning cherries is that they have melatonin, which is linked to better sleep," Cascio states.

Relevant Stories Okay, so you possibly aren't taking place any type of tropical holidays anytime soon, but at the very least you can obtain a preference of somewhere beachy with this frozen fruit. "Even when fresh papaya is difficult to get, almost every grocery store has actually iced up papaya," Cascio states. She's a fan of this fruit due to the fact that of its fiber, vitamin C, as well as beta-carotene (a forerunner to vitamin A) material.

" It has over 200 percent of the amount of vitamin C you need for the day." Take that, oranges. Cascio states that papaya can likewise help with irregular bowel movements and also bloating as a result of the enzyme papin, which aids digest healthy proteins. This makes it an excellent after-dinner snack. Attempt it by making vegan nice-cream; simply utilize your blender or food cpu to mix your icy papaya with the plant-based milk of your option.

The Best Strategy To Use For Frozen Tropical Fruit

The Ultimate Guide To Frozen Greens

( Or, follow this dish. It utilizes fresh papaya, but icy papaya functions simply as well.) Mango is an additional tropical fruit that isn't always easy to discover fresh, yet is offered frozen at almost every supermarket. Similar to papaya, Cascio says it also aids with food digestion due to the fact that it has lots of probiotics as well as fiber, both of which are vital completely gut wellness.

How Buy Frozen Strawberries can Save You Time, Stress, and Money.

" Some healthy eaters are delayed my mango since it's a high-sugar fruit, however because the fruit

[frozenmangosppuh387-blog]

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Icy fruits are excellent for primarily any type of celebration: breakfast, a snack, in a smoothie mix, a healthy and balanced treat ... the possibilities are truly unlimited. While many nutritional experts say that nutrient damage from freezing is very marginal, it is necessary to note that (depending upon the water web content of the fruit) the loss of specific antioxidants like beta-carotene is feasible throughout the freezing procedure.

Freezing fruits yourself at the peak of perfection may actually slow the ripening or decay procedure, keeping the levels of particular healthy and balanced nutrients, like vitamins, minerals as well as phytochemicals. Actually, the pre-packaged frozen variation may be no even worse than the fresh, which will certainly usually experience some nutrient loss throughout its journey from ranch to food store.

During the cold process, the water inside the fruit's cells broadens as it ices up, which often creates cell membrane layers to swell or burst, leading to a softer structure when the fruit is defrosted. The service? Consume the frozen fruit when it's still icy (so refreshing), layer it in chocolate or pop it in a blender or food processor, in which case the structure won't make a difference.

The Greatest Guide To Frozen Fruit Smoothie Mix

Facts About Frozen Blueberries Uncovered

The Fruits PDFs

Experiment with these six, as well as you'll be well on your means to frozen fruit happiness. Katherine Carroll Water web content: 74% Frozen bananas are not just scrumptious, but are additionally a fantastic way to protect and obtain extra use out of extremely ripe bananas. If you're trying to find a healthy dessert choice, attempt banana "wonderful" lotion, a straightforward version of "ice cream" that has just one ingredient: icy bananas.

Get rid of the peels before cold to make them much simpler to eat as soon as frozen. Anika Mian Water content: 81% Undoubtedly, I'm not a big follower of routine grapes, yet when frozen, they transform, coming to be much sweeter as well as tackling a virtually ice cream-like structure. Grapes are well-known for being a high-sugar fruit, however at only 62 calories per mug, they fade in contrast to a "small" late-night snack, like a solitary cup of Ben & Jerry's Cookie Dough Gelato (540 calories).

Anika Mian Water material: 85% I really did not think anything might be more refreshing than blueberries till I uncovered the Holy Grail: icy blueberries. Adhere to the frozen range, and never again will you need to experience through the pain of out-of-season berries (read: mushy or tasteless). You can purchase them in gallon bags, however I directly recommend cold them right in the carton.

|

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Table of ContentsThe Best Guide To Fruit FreezeSome Known Details About Fruit Smoothie Frozen Fruit Some Known Incorrect Statements About Fruit Buy Frozen Fruit Fundamentals Explained

All about Fresh Frozen Fruit

When iced up, every bite tastes like a less-artificial Dreamsicle. Similar to bananas, remove the peel before freezing to make sure that you have very easy accessibility to the freshly frozen items. Water web content: 87% Icy raspberries melt in your mouth like a Hershey's kiss. Pop them in a blender or food processor with a little sugar and also a sprinkle of almond milk as well as you have actually got on your own an insanely easy raspberry sorbet.

Truthfully, there are couple of things far better than coming residence to the sight of a fruit-filled fridge freezer. Frozen fruit is by far the simplest, healthiest and most scrumptious method to #treatyoself. Remember, though, to stick to low-water-content fruits for far better flavor, structure and also general nutrient material.

The Best Guide To Frozen Greens

What Does Fruit Smoothie Frozen Fruit Do?

Whether your grocery store is out of your favorite produce or you're trying to restrict your journeys to the food store, frozen fruits as well as vegetables are a terrific alternative. They can be a lot more nutritious than their fresh counterparts, as they're flash-frozen and also will certainly preserve nutrients without spoiling. And also they're wonderful to carry hand when you wish to include some healthy components into your dishes.

They're nutrient-rich as well as will certainly work in countless various recipeswe've even included some dish ideas to get you started. Polina Prokofieva/ShutterstockStrawberries are a breakfast (and dessert) timeless for a reason. They're high in vitamin C and are tasty in baked products, mixed right into smoothie mixes, or served atop yogurt or oatmeal for a hearty morning meal.

An Unbiased View of Best Frozen Fruits For Smoothies

Ekaterina Kondratova/ShutterstockIf you can discover frozen butternut squash at your local food store, it deserves a buy! You can add the cubes to baked mac as well as cheese for a dietary boost, or roast the dices as well as serve them atop a salad. The ideal part? You do not need to do the job of cutting the squash yourself.

Right here are 20 Hard-to-Find GroceriesAnd Where to Locate Them. ShutterstockFrozen peas are good for more than calming your pains and also discomforts! Including peas to your meals will give you an additional protein boost and offer you with even more than three grams of fiber, as well. Appreciate them in stir-fries or added to soups.

Getting My Frozen Fruits To Work

ShutterstockYou do not need to damage out the spiralizer each time you want a pasta substitute. Brands like Trader Joe's and Eco-friendly Giant market spiralized zucchini, carrots, and extra. Toss them with pasta sauce or stir-fry them for a low-carb supper. Experiment with your spiralized veggies in this dish for Zucchini Spaghetti with Turkey Meatballs.

|

The Ultimate Guide To Best Frozen Fruits For Smoothies

Table of ContentsThe Greatest Guide To Frozen Tropical FruitSome Ideas on Frozen Tropical Fruit You Should KnowFrozen Fruit Recipes Can Be Fun For Everyone

Diana Taliun/ShutterstockWhatever method you get itcanned, iced up, or freshcorn is a yummy way to add more flavor and nutrients to your meal. Usage frozen corn in homemade salsas or white chili recipes. We enjoy these 20 Corn Recipes That Crush It. ShutterstockBroccoli is an excellent source of vitamin C, vitamin A, and also vitamin K.

Try toasting it with garlic or sauting it stovetop for a very easy side dish. For a super-easy recipe, try these Broccoli-Cheese Eggs in a Cup. ShutterstockFresh cherries can be pricey, so keeping the icy range on your wish list is a must if you're attempting to conserve money. Place the fruit to excellent usage in this Wonderful as well as Creamy Chocolate-Covered Cherry Smoothie Mix Bowl Recipe.

Best Frozen Fruits For Smoothies Things To Know Before You Buy

Use it in any type of dishes where you would certainly utilize routine rice! These 20 Cauliflower Rice Recipes are a terrific location to begin. ShutterstockNo, you can not most likely to your favorite sushi location during quarantine, but you can still make a scrumptious bowl of edamame in your home. Just microwave some icy edamame, include a little salt, as well as you're good to go.

Not known Facts About Fruit Smoothie פירות אקסוטיים Frozen Fruit

George Dolgikh/ShutterstockYou don't need to wait till Thanksgiving rolls around to take pleasure in a delicious side meal of Brussels sprouts. If you get them frozen, they're fantastic any time of year! Attempt cooking them with bacon for a tasty addition to any dish. Attempt the veggie in this Brussels Sprouts Garnished With Bacon and also Almonds Dish.

The 9-Minute Rule for Frozen Fruit Drinks

They do not need to be baked right into a casseroleyou can prepare frozen eco-friendly beans for a simple side dish to any type of fowl supper. Try these 17 Good-for-You Green Bean Recipes. ShutterstockAs with bananas, you might not locate frozen grapes in your food store. But you can freeze fresh grapes for a fast and also simple treat! You can also use them to cool down your white wine without watering it downall of these uses are why grapes are among the 50 Foods You have actually Been Eating Wrong Your Whole Life.

The Main Principles Of Fruit

Registered Dietitian as well as Nutritional expert Ilana Muhlstein lost her weight as well as maintained it offand in You Can Drop It!, she'll reveal you exactly how to lose it, as well. More than 240,000 clients have actually selected her programand now it's yours to keep.

|

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Table of ContentsThe smart Trick of Fruit Smoothie Frozen Fruit That Nobody is Talking AboutHow Buy Frozen Fruit can Save You Time, Stress, and Money.

The potassium in cherries additionally makes them a wonderful exercise recuperation treat (considering that potassium is an electrolyte), so Cascio claims including them in a post-run or post-virtual exercise shake can help nourish muscle mass. One study released in the European Journal of Sports Scientific research located that cherry concentrate lead to much less muscle discomfort post-workout. "Another enjoyable fact regarding cherries is that they have melatonin, which is connected to far better sleep," Cascio says.

Associated Stories Okay, so you most likely aren't taking place any exotic getaways anytime soon, however a minimum of you can obtain a taste of somewhere beachy with this frozen fruit. "Also when fresh papaya is tough to obtain, almost every grocery store has actually iced up papaya," Cascio states. She's a follower of this fruit as a result of its fiber, vitamin C, and beta-carotene (a precursor to vitamin A) content.

" It has more than 200 percent of the amount of vitamin C you require for the day." Take that, oranges. Cascio states that papaya can likewise aid with irregular bowel movements as well as bloating because of the enzyme papin, which aids absorb proteins. This makes it a terrific after-dinner snack. Try it by making vegan nice-cream; just use your blender or food processor to blend your frozen papaya with the plant-based milk of your option.

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( Or, follow this dish. It utilizes fresh papaya, yet frozen papaya functions simply as well.) Mango is an additional exotic fruit that isn't always simple to locate fresh, however is offered iced up at almost every supermarket. Similar to papaya, Cascio claims it additionally aids with food digestion because it has lots of probiotics as well as fiber, both of which are crucial completely intestine health.

Frozen Fruit Smoothie Mix for Dummies

" Some healthy eaters are postponed my mango since it's a high-sugar fruit, yet since the fruit is naturally-occurring, it truly isn't anything to fret way too much regarding," she states. "Bananas are also a good pre-bedtime snack because they include tryptophan, which is linked to better sleep," Cascio claims. "Occasionally I such as to add some

[artificialqueens]

New Man Pt. 2 - Fucking Awful.

A/N: THANK YOU GUYS FOR YOUR KIND FEEDBACK! I am so appreciative that you took the time to read Part 1 of “New Man” and glad to hear you enjoyed it. You all make my little Grinch heart grow 10 sizes.

Here is Part 2 – I know I promised fluff and happiness, but the story took me in a different direction for this chapter. That said, this is Part 2/?? and if you bear with my I promise to take you to the Promised Land of kisses and glitter. Darkness before the dawn, right? 

A good chunk of this is flashback/Roy recounting how we got here, so not as much forward movement as background. Hope you don’t mind some heavy-handed exposition…

Last 2 things – I’m seeing what happens if I switch into Roy’s POV, because I like the narrative structure flipping back and forth between the 2. Would love to get feedback on that, and happy to adapt the structure to one POV or the other if you have strong feelings. AND THIS IS A LONG ONE, sorry if 3K words is brutal.

Thanks for readying, y’all are the real MVPs.

This was going really fucking great.

That was the only thing running through Roy’s mind as he felt Danny smile underneath his kiss. In the 4 hours he’d been in Seattle he thought he had totally screwed up his plan, but somehow things had gotten back on track. Clearly this was meant to –

And then Danny broke away. Suddenly, roughly. Ripping is lips away and pushing off with surprising force. Roy stumbled back a few paces as both men caught their breath.

“No. This is…you’re…no.” Danny picked up the lighter he’d dropped in the heat of the moment, still muttering to himself just low enough that Roy couldn’t hear. Then he grabbed Roy by the forearm and dragged him back into the bar – again, sudden and rough. Roy couldn’t help but giggle just a tiny bit, thinking how ridiculous Danny must look hauling a 40-year-old man off like a misbehaving toddler.

“This isn’t funny, man. What was…ugh!” Throwing his hands off dramatically, Danny let go and continued back to their friends. Shit, the kid was really frustrated and probably even a little mad. Roy steeled himself from the drunken giggles, rejoining the table a few seconds behind.

He was thankful that the crew didn’t acknowledge anything that had just happened – the benefit of drunk friends, amiright? Roy eased back into the group conversation, light chatter about who totally saw the ending coming on Westworld or what memes would make the best protest t-shirts. He took every opportunity to steal an unnoticed look at Danny, who was half participating in the discussion and half furiously clicking at his phone. In his cross-faded fog, Roy couldn’t tell what the kid was doing. Grindr? Writing a novel? Playing Bejeweled – that was still a thing, right?

His stealth staring mission was clearly a failure, though, evidenced by the sharp kick of Jinkx’s boot on his shin.

“OH what the fuck Jinkx?!” Curiosity became shooting pain as Roy clutched for his leg underneath the table.

“Sorry Roy, clumsy as ever! Let me grab you a drink, dull the pain. Come with me to the bar?” The redhead emphasized the last request with Uzo Aduba-level crazy eyes. This was not a request, and while Jinkx didn’t intimidate Roy he was too fuzzy to fight.

“Sure, queen. Somebody has to make sure you don’t drop the booze.” Oof, his snapbacks were weak tonight. The two left the table and headed to see Todd at the bar.

“I’ll take a –“

“Oh no, you’ll have a water. Todd, water for Bianca del Drunko. I’ll take a few shots of Jack for the table, and Ginger backs.” Roy pouted and raised an eyebrow, sorting through his Rolodex of Hate for a quippy insult about ginger and redheads and minj, but finding his speed dulled a bit by the smoke and alcohol.

Jinkx turned back to him. “Look, I don’t know what’s going on with you right now but get it together. Jesus, del Rio, you’re supposed to be the mature one. The rest of us get to fuck things up. Just drink your water and mellow out for a minute.” The redhead knew about Roy’s plan, his oh-so-secret plan to use this weekend to woo Danny, and could tell he was putting it at risk.

“Alright, alright Jinkx. Don’t get so worked up you fall asleep on me.”

The joke fell flat. “You can do better than that.”

“Damn straight I can. You –“

For what had to be the millionth time that night, Roy was interrupted. This time by his phone, pinging with a text – from Danny. Roy looked over to the table to see what was going on, but all he saw was the kid deep in conversation and finally ignoring his phone. Roy swiped to open…

Danny: What the hell, Roy? I know we haven’t gotten to see much of each other since I moved up here, but something is different about you and it’s really fucked. You’ve been acting like a bit of a cunt the last few weeks, you hardly call me or Shane or even your mom anymore, and now you’re here doing everything you can to cheat on your boyfriend? With strangers, with me…This isn’t you, and if it is then I’m not sure I know you anymore.

Roy scanned the text eight more times before throwing his phone down on the bar. Jinkx didn’t flinch, too occupied flirting with one of the cute bartenders. Seizing the moment, Roy grabbed the three shots of Jack the guy had poured and knocked them back in quick succession. It wasn’t until the slam of the last shot glass onto the bar that the redhead looked up, just in time to see Roy storming for the exit.

As he stood out on the curb, trying desperately to get an Uber with his now smashed up phone, there was only one thing running through Roy’s mind:

This was going really fucking awful.

—

Roy woke up suddenly, eyes snapping open to his unfamiliar hotel room lit by dawn creeping through haphazardly closed curtains. He rolled over to look at the clock – 5:12am. It figures, Roy was never one to sleep off a night of drinking. While most people spent the next day wrapped in blankets and sleeping like a rock until at least 11am, he always seemed to be yanked out of slumber after only a few hours of restless shut-eye. Sometime between 5am and 6am he would be awake, mind reeling and trying unsuccessfully to will himself back to sleep until the headache went away.

This morning was no different – only the pain was so, so much worse. Sure, he used three shots of whiskey to put an exclamation mark on a night of heavy drinking, but the pain that was nagging him most was emotional. Roy grabbed for his phone – oh right, it was smashed to shit by angry Bianca last night – and re-read Danny’s text. He was hit by a sudden wave of nausea, a feeling that made him want to cry as it made him want to vomit. He grabbed a bottle of water from the minibar, charge be damned, and chugged the whole thing has he tried to figure out how the hell he had screwed this up so badly.

—

His plan was never *simple*, but that wouldn’t be Roy’s style. As Bob had frequently told him, he was a “lover of complexity” and couldn’t help himself. The plan to woo Danny was no different.

To say he cooked this up when he caught Sky sleeping with one of his personal training clients 2 weeks ago was only half right. Roy had actually planned to spend the three months off between the US and UK legs of Not Today Satan to finally make a play for Danny, but bitch moved to Seattle before he could make any of the many grand gestures he’d cooked up. In the first few weeks after Danny left, when the kid’s social media had been flooded with posts about how much he loved Seattle and the people, Roy hit a real low point. Jealous, exhausted, and feeling quite sorry for himself, he met Sky in a bar and hooked up with him a few times before falling into an effortless relationship.

Effortless not in the good sense of the word, though; effortless in the sense that Roy put in literally no effort, and didn’t care to make it work. The guy was named SKY after all – Roy could barely believe he’d been able to fuck a guy named Sky for 2 whole months, but he supposed the abs helped. Sky was just a nice distraction, a pretty shiny toy to brag about when he needed to overcompensate in conversations with Danny and Shane…which had quickly become all the time. He learned a hot, rich boyfriend is a great way to deflect questions about himself or his wellbeing. The new man, combined with dialing the bitchiness up to 11, was like armor; helpful in denying to himself and the outside world that he was not in a good place.

But when Roy walked in on Sky with his 2pm-Tuesdays balls deep in his ass, he resolved that even in his lowest moments he had the self-respect not to date a cheater. So he cut if off with Sky and 20 minutes later booked a 2 week trip to Seattle. Time to put the Noriega-Haylock plan back in action, for the thousandth time in 4 years.

This time, Roy would show Danny how perfect and the right kind of effortless they could be. He would breeze into town – but let’s be real, Roy never breezes – and seamlessly integrate himself into the Seattle version of Danny’s life. He would meet the new friends, support him at all his local shows, become a member at the EMP…hell he’d even buy a few flannels and a beanie. At the same time, Roy would make his feelings for Danny abundantly clear. He was confident that Danny reciprocated them; he knew it in his heart, but he also knew because Danny had told him on more than one occasion. Three times over the course of their friendship Danny had been the fearless one and professed his love for Roy. Ok, so maybe fearless is the wrong word – the drunk and cross-faded one may be a more apt description – but the point was that Roy knew Danny wanted this as much as he did. He felt it in his soul, his mind, every fiber of his body. Now it was time to make it real.

After booking the flights, he called Dela to layout his plan. He knew he needed a confidante in this, and it wouldn’t be fair to Shane to put him in the middle of this.

“B, I’m really glad you’re finally taking the plunge with Danny. It’s been too long coming. But you realize you have 2 big problems, right?” Ben was his always-enthusiastic self, but had some concerns. “You still aren’t solving the long-distance and time problem you’ve always been worried about.”

“We’ll find a way to work through it. I have to stop using that as an excuse to not give this a chance.”

“Very big of you, and I agree. But, uh, the second thing – don’t you have a boyfriend?”

“Well, funny story – no. That was always a waste of my time – c’mon, his name was SKY – and I caught him getting fucked by a bear about an hour ago.”

“Oh sweetie, I’m so sorry! Are you ok? Are you alone?” Ben launched into caregiver mode, instantly making Roy uncomfortable.

“No, Ben I’m really fine. It was not –“

“I know Michelle’s in town, she’s always my breakup guru, maybe you should –“

Fuck. Roy realized a major problem. If he announced to his friends (and social media, shit) that he and his new man had broken up, his life would become an endless barrage of sympathy. Everything he’d done to ward off questions about the bags under his tired eyes, the increasingly infrequent and short calls to friends and family, and the mess in his usually tidy life would crumble. Roy couldn’t have that – he was fine, he was the caretaker for everyone else, and he couldn’t stand people to fuss over his well-being.

It was in that moment that he made the decision that made the plan *complex* - “Ben, stop. I’m fine, really I’m ok. Peachy fucking keen. But can I ask one favor of you? One tiny thing and I’ll name my next dog after you?”

“Anything, dear.”

“Do not – and I repeat, do NOT – tell anyone that Sky and I broke up.”

“What?” Ben was confused, understandably.

“I don’t want to deal with all of these conversations about it, and the only person who really needs to know right now is Danny. I’ll tell him in person when I’m in Seattle, please just keep quiet about it until then.”

“I’m not sure that’s the best…”

“Please, Dela. Just let me do this my way?”

After a long pause – “Ok, alright, sure. Let me go on record saying I don’t think that’s a healthy way to handle this.”

“Dually noted, Judge Judy. Thank you, I appreciate it.” Roy hung up with Dela and began crafting his “casual” message to Danny to tell him he’d be in town. Mid-way through the 5th round of editing, his phone rang: Jinkx.

“Hey Jinkx, can I call you back I –“

“Are you an idiot? I mean really, are the blonde wigs affecting your brain?” Jinkx steamrolled him.

“Excuse me?” “Dela is on with me – I know what you’re coming to Seattle to do –“

“Well now it’s to come cut up that bitch Dela’s wigs. I asked you one thing, you little fruit fly –“ “Sorry Roy, I –“

“Don’t apologize, Ben. He was right to tell me, he’s going to be out of town when you get here and someone has to help you not screw this up. I know we can’t talk you out of it, but at least let us try to support you. This is big risk, big reward, and it could – you’re going to need wing-people.”

Roy knew there was no point in fighting. As good natured as Jinkx was, bitch was aggressive. If we wanted to help, goddammit he was going to help. With a sigh – “Ok, you’re in on this. Great. But please let me handle this they way I want to – I need to. Danny and I are endgame to a long, long story and I have to do this the way I feel is right. If this gets out beyond the two of you, I will call Darienne and Roxxxy so that those shady elephants can trample you. Is that clear?”

“Sure, whatever you say.” Jinkx scoffed.

Ben soothed. “What Jinkx means to say, Roy, is we are here for you and support you. We are so happy you’re finally going after what we’ve all seen for years.”

“Yes, all that.” Jinkx reassured. “And I promise I won’t let you fuck it up.”

Roy laughed. “Gee, thanks.” Now, with less sarcasm – “I do actually appreciate it. But I think I got this.”

It was Jinkx’s turn for sarcasm. “Uh huh, sure.”

—

It did not bring Roy any joy to have proven Jinkx right. Again, he felt nauseous.

He had basically blown his chance with Danny on the first night but if he was being honest the mistakes started long before. The sexting. See, Roy refused to tell anyone else – not Shane, not Detox, nobody – about his breakup with Sky. That meant a lot of nights alone before his trip to Seattle, pretending to be busy to avoid having to be avoidant. That also meant a lot of solo wine nights, which somehow quickly devolved into sending dirty texts – so, so many dirty texts – to Danny. Now that he was committing to his pursuit, the fact that his every sexual fantasy had the same male lead was not something Drunk Roy felt the need to hide. At some point every night, his filter would disappear and he’d send Danny a (he thought) beautifully written description of the patterns he wanted to draw across his body with his tongue, the ways in which he wanted to tie up and be tied, the rhythms he wanted to pound into him, etc.

That Danny did not respond to these texts or bring them up in their regular conversations was a little confusing to Roy, but he was glad for it. He figured Danny just read them when he was equally pissed drunk – he knew he deleted messages as he read them – and forgot about it. At least that’s what he hoped, so that there could be some element of surprise in his plan. But seeing Danny’s reaction to the kiss and everything after, Roy understood he was wrong. It seemed like Danny was actually mad about it – not a reaction he had expected.

And then there was the bar – for that, Roy couldn’t muster an explanation or an excuse. He knew that he did this. During times of high anxiety and stress, Roy makes terrible decisions when he drinks. He tried for years to understand how or why, but for some reason worry plus whiskey turns him into a bad idea machine. This wasn’t the first time the same combination ended with him lip-locked (or worse) with a stranger that he later regretted. He should’ve just kept it low-key last night, not drinking much if at all so that he could play it cool with Danny. But nerves got the best of Roy, and from the moment he got on the plane he’d been building a buzz. By the time he got to the bar he was browning out, and he barely remembered how he ended up cuddled up with this random guy.

It wasn’t until Danny started singing that damn song that Roy realized what was going on. Immediately he was horrified – it looked like he was cheating on his boyfriend. Not only did he ignore the love of his life when he had flown to Seattle to see him, but he also appeared to be committing Danny’s #1 cardinal unforgivable sin. He immediately stood up and left the stranger’s table, and rejoined his so-called friends – What the fuck, why didn’t Jinkx stop him? What kind of wing-person was that? Roy sat for a few minutes, half seething and half feeling like he was actually going to die of embarrassment and sadness. When he saw Danny get up to leave, he jumped at the chance to catch him outside and apologize.

And yet – again, with the good ideas from Drunk Roy – instead of apologizing he found himself aggressively accosting Danny before going in for the kiss he’d dreamed about for years. And for just a few seconds, Roy thought everything was going to be ok. He thought that despite all his mistakes today, the last two weeks, the last few years…he thought he’d finally gotten it right. But we all saw how that ended…

—

Finished with a second bottle of water now, Roy emerged from his self reflective daze. He stared at the text from Danny hoping against all hope that he would feel better and last night could be erased and that he could save him and Danny. But when he looked down at the message for the thousandth time, he had to choke back searing tears.

I’m not sure I know you anymore.

“Sometimes I don’t think I know me anymore either, kid.” He muttered. He rifled through is bag to find some Benadryl – the only way he can sleep some days – and popped two of the pink pills before rolling back to bed. “But I’ll make this right. God and Joan Rivers help me, we’re gonna do this.”

Roy couldn’t fix anything now, so at least he could try to sleep.  

—

[End of Part 2]

[daisylilielizabethposts]

ben simmons' former 76ers teammate

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[annamanor]

New Country for Old Cows

In March, at a restaurant along one of Toronto’s busiest corridors, the dining room was filled with 50-some guests for what promised to be a uniquely beefy evening. Tanto chef Julian Iliopoulos had planned a menu of 15 courses, from oxtail croquettes to a tongue-and-heart terrine, each using a different ingredient or part of a single animal. The pièce de résistance: tallow-aged striploins and rib eyes, cooked over the kitchen’s woodburning grill, each slice dotted with a tiny cap of pale yellow fat.

These steaks weren’t cut from a young Angus or Hereford, which is raised specifically to produce marbled steaks of maximum tenderness as quickly as possible. Like everything else on the evening’s menu, they were from a grass-fed Jersey cow — one that had reached retirement age after a life spent producing thousands of pounds of milk on a dairy farm in southwestern Ontario. “I wanted to give it a proper send-off,” says Iliopoulos.

The reality of retirement for most North American dairy cows is a speedy trip to auction and an immediate future as cheap, commodity-grade ground beef. They’re sometimes called “burger cows.” But Iliopoulos is among a growing number of fine-dining chefs in the United States and Canada who are beginning to rediscover what beef-loving cultures like the Spanish — who serve beef from old cows as a delicacy called txuleta — have understood for generations: What a mature animal’s meat lacks in butter-knife tenderness, it makes up for in intense flavor that can’t be replicated with anything but the passage of time. And, because most North American beef cows graduate from Bovine University by around 24 months of age, restaurants are turning primarily to dairy farms — and their older, smaller, pasture-raised Holsteins and Jerseys — for their mature-cow fix.

Claire Herminjard’s phone has been ringing a lot these days. She is the founder of Mindful Meats, a meat aggregator in Petaluma, California, that sources whole, live animals from certified-organic, non-GMO ranches in Marin and Sonoma counties, where the animals graze on the salty grasses of northern California’s Pacific Coast. “I assumed we would be a ground-beef company because that’s what I read dairy is really used for: America’s favorite burger,” says Herminjard. “Any rancher I talked to would say ‘Good luck getting a steak out of a dairy cow. Never gonna happen — it’s too tough. People are never going to eat it because it’s too tough. Who cares about flavor?’”

Tenderness is the benchmark for most steaks sold in North America. And when it comes to flavor, consumers unwittingly expect the taste of grain-fed beef. “People really love the flavor of corn, but that’s not what beef is,” says Jakob Anderson of Toronto’s Bespoke Butchers, who sources retired dairy cows for restaurants across the city.

Courtesy of Bespoke Butchers

But flavor — real beef flavor, unadulterated by the mechanics of industrialization — is staging a comeback.

At chef-restaurateur José Andrés’s Bazaar Meat in Las Vegas, the Vaca Vieja, or “old cow,” is inspired by the Spanish tradition. It comes from one of the eight- to 10-year-old Holsteins at Mindful Meats. “There is a flavor there that is more potent as time goes on,” says Alex Pitts, the restaurant’s executive chef. “It’s one we haven’t tasted in America in 60 years because we got used to raising animals only for consumption.”

On the East Coast, a rib eye from a six-year-old Holstein, raised on a farm in Virginia’s Shenandoah Valley, has been featured as the centerpiece of the $325 tasting menu at the two-Michelin-starred restaurant Pineapple & Pearls. The steak’s fat cap glowed like Cheddar cheese after the cow’s grass-fed existence ingesting beta-carotene. “While eating steak is something that most of us have experienced, eating that of a dairy cow isn’t as common,” says head chef Scott Muns. “While its texture might be slightly tougher than what the general public is used to from younger cows, the flavor is much more robust. Even the fat is richer in flavor, almost like bone marrow.”

Dairy cows are the most common source for mature beef, but they aren’t the only one. The Meat Hook, a butcher shop in Brooklyn, buys Angus bulls whose breeding days are behind them from Kinderhook Farm in upstate New York. “After you taste a 12-year-old animal, you realize that the steak you’ve been eating your whole life from the supermarket was like a 1 or 1.5, if you had a volume knob of zero to 10,” says co-owner Ben Turley. “And these are like Marty McFly at the beginning of Back to the Future, where he cranks up the guitar and it blows him against the wall.” Last year, the shop began hosting themed dinners at New York restaurants built around the concept of “single-source vintage beef,” a descriptor that sounds borrowed from the vocabulary of artisanal coffee beans or wine. The notion of terroir — being able to taste something about how and where the product was raised — is common to all three. This flavor-first philosophy presents an opportunity to meat purveyors and farmers alike.

“There are 29 steakhouses in Las Vegas right now, and everyone’s serving the same stuff from Nebraska,” says Pitts. “Let’s not serve the same steak as everyone else; let’s do something different. And the results spoke for themselves.” At Bazaar Meats, the menu at José Andrés’s brand-new Mercado Little Spain market hall, in New York’s Hudson Yards, features steak from mature dairy cows from Mindful Meats.

Courtesy of Bazaar Meat

For farmers, a larger market means an opportunity to reap a premium for what would otherwise be sold at bottom-of-the-barrel prices. “We would sometimes pay 50 to 75 percent more than what the market was paying for them,” says Clifford Pollard, owner of Cream Co. Meats, an aggregator and food hub in Oakland, California, that works with dairy farms to identify their choicest pasture-raised organic animals, which are marketed under Cream Co.’s Antique Beef label. “For a ranching partner who was selling us 10 head of cattle every other week on this program, they would make an additional $150,000 to $200,000 a year selling them to us.”

Herminjard and Pollard emphasize that not just any old dairy cow will make the cut. Beyond exacting standards at the dairy farm level, the key is to target specific animals that meet high standards for qualities such as body condition. “There’s nothing convenient about it,” says Pollard. “It takes a long time to raise. Not every animal is equal. There’s a lot of handling and a lot of aging to actually get it to the point where it’s going to be this incredibly special experience.”

For the mature-meat movement to continue to grow, education is key for restaurants (about the culinary benefits of working with older animals), for consumers (who have long been conditioned to prize tenderness over flavor in their beef) and for individual farmers (who may, for the first time, consider the financial and ecological benefits of raising dual-purpose animals — in many cases, they might not realize the value of the by-product that’s roaming in their own fields). “Some of our suppliers had never tried their own beef before, so we would take them meat,” says Herminjard. “One supplier came out a week or two after we dropped it off and said, ‘Man, that’s so good, it’s like the beef I had when my grandma was around.’ It has that flavor and nostalgia because it isn’t anything new. People had been doing it for a long time, but they stopped. Now, we really are looking back to move forward.”

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