#dont let me in

[itsgrimeytime]

show me || Rick Grimes (TWD)

rick grimes taglist: @golden-hoax @mgparker

AVAILABLE ON AO3

dialogue prompts: “Why are you mad?” “I’m not mad, I just think you can choose better people to kiss.” (2) + “Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t feel the same as I do, then I’ll leave you alone.”  (36) + “I’m tired of being on the sidelines.”  (43)

Summary: You and Rick had something, you weren't quite sure what it was. After a few drunken mistakes during one of the dinner parties at Alexandria, Rick wants to make things crystal clear.

TWS: TENSION, blood, gore, gun violence (violence in general), alcohol, drunkness, drunken kisses, kind of dark!Rick, jealousy, possessiveness, protectiveness, all things consistent with TWD.

[[A/N: The vibes are in with this one, girlies. Kind of listened to Boyfriend by Dove Cameron for this one. SO... Be ready for that. Thanks for reading!!! ]]

Your head hurt after the night before, you couldn't quite remember why. Well, other than the drinks.

It had been the first dinner party after Alexandria, you were nervous and just kept sipping. Somebody kept giving you more, even though, you remember distinctly Rick (big hands and blue, blue eyes) warding them off. They continued when he wasn't by your side -beer after beer and maybe something... else? You couldn't really remember.

You gathered pretty quickly that Rick was mad at you that day, something about the way he composed himself -the steaming rage enveloping him, and it only continued for days.

Day after day, and nothing. Usually, you could read him like a book, but now, all you got was well, that he was mad at you. Not even to get you started on the way everyone else was distinctively ignoring your questions like Rick had told them to.

So, you stepped out of your comfort zone -you went straight to the most honest Alexandrian you knew. Or the one who would speak to you over Rick's head -Deanna.

There was something deep in your chest that told you somehow this was betrayal, but you had been driven far past that point. (One blue-eyed glare and complete head turn to ignore you past that point.)

"Hey," you spoke, a little uneasy.

"Hello, Y/N!" she smiled, big and bright, "-I'm glad to see that dinner has been going so well-"

"That's actually what I was here to talk to you about," you echoed, direct in your tone, "-last dinner party, I... I don't remember what happened."

"Nothing bad, I can assure you," she hummed, continuing to walk down the street, "-I'm well aware of anyone overstepping."

"Right, well, I'm glad, but-" you spoke, a little impatiently -eyes darting around, "-I don't remember."

"Nothing wrong with getting a little drunk," she spoke, something in her shifting, "-we understand the change is-"

"Deanna," you interrupted with finality, "-please, just tell me what happened."

She paused in her steps, turning around to fully face you -head on, and something in you shrunk at her inquisitive gaze. She looked at you a bit like a puzzle for a moment, before her eyes seemed to light up in understanding like she knew exactly what the issue was.

"Let's..." she began, slowly, "-Let's talk inside, shall we?"

You merely followed her up the steps and into her house, like a sheep to its shepherd -you were desperate. If she could help, you would just about do anything.

"I was wondering just what was with him," Deanna muttered to herself, "-makes so much sense now."

She led you to her living room, where the room was much the same in her own home, but she had photos -framed and set pristinely of faces you didn't quite know. Ones you doubted you ever would.

"Sit," she motioned, "-we have much to discuss."

"Much?" you questioned.

"Well, no, it's-" she started, but faltered for a moment, "-rather complicated."

"Complicated?" you questioned further, raising your voice.

"Look, I'm going to just tell you to avoid any further confusion. You kissed someone, can't remember who now-"

You paused, faltering for a minute, "That's it?"

"Rick saw," she finished as if it was some big reveal.

You and Rick had a thing, a very slight thing that neither of you had really even commented on or talked about. Hell, you hadn't even kissed the guy, but there was something there, a deep buzz under your skin. And something in the apocalypse was something, sure, but not if he didn't talk to you about it. Not if he-

You stopped your train of thought, "So?"

"Aren't you-" she seemed to pause, being taken off guard, "-Aren't the two of you together?"

"I'm sorry?" you asked, "-No, we're not... not really. He doesn't- It doesn't matter, drunkenly kissing a guy is no reason to get this pissy."

"It is if you're together."

"Deanna," you started, "-don't push your luck. Look, I have to go sort this out, do you-"

"Oh, no, please," she answered, quickly, "-I can't get a word in with the man right now. Fix it, go."

That's how you wound up here, ready at his door -he couldn't ignore you at his own home. You'd get him to listen.

"Rick," you addressed, direct as soon as the door opened and you saw the blue of his eyes, "-hey."

He seemed to still at your voice -frozen for a moment, before wordlessly moving around the kitchen. He was gathering up dishes, at a sure pace before, but now he'd begun much faster. As if he was trying to get away from you.

"Alright, enough-" you said, waltzing up to him, and turning his face to yours, "-why are you mad?"

Rick looked at you for a moment, and something in you almost grew shy at the attentiveness. Blue eyes dashing along your face like you were fresh water and he had been stranded in the desert.

And then, he stopped. Lifting his soapy hands to take yours off his face -a slow, gentle movement. The opposite of someone mad, you noted.

"Do we need to talk 'bout this?" He echoed, a little helplessly if you were honest.

"I don't know," you answered, "-you tell me. Can you not be mad if we don't talk about this?"

"I'm not," he sighed, turning back to the dishes -this time doing them leisurely, "-I'm not mad. I just..."

"You just what?" You asked, pointedly.

"I just think you can choose better people to kiss," he grumbled out so low you weren't even sure you'd heard him correctly.

But something in you fired off like a rocket.

"Seriously?!" You yelled out, a sort of toned frustrated yell, but still a yell, "-you are pissed because you don't approve?"

"That's not-"

"Well, I got good news for ya, Sheriff, I don't even remember who I kissed last night-"

"That's because he made ya so drunk-"

"-And on top of that, I can kiss who I want, when I want. It's not like you have any control over that-"

"I want to," he grumbled out, even lower.

You stilled, "I'm sorry...?"

He didn't speak for a moment, washing the soap off his hands -you watched the water trail down to his elbow. Scrubbing away at the dish towel, he dried them and turned to face you.

Rick's steps were slow and sure, you could hear the clink of the tile under his boot. And your heart started pounding with anticipation, maybe he was mad. Why was he getting so close-

He was just in front of you now, finger trailed under your chin, "Tell me to stop, if you don't want this."

You turned your head down to look at the tile, something in your breath catching that you could barely breathe. You just needed a second-

He flicked your eyes back to him, and you could feel his breaths on your lips, "Look me in the eyes and tell me you don't feel the same as I do, then I'll leave you alone."

"Rick-"

He raised an eyebrow, "I asked a question, Y/N."

"How do you feel?"

He roamed closer, eyes dashing between the two of yours and your lips, "I think you know, sweetheart."

You opened your mouth.

"But," he interrupted, "-if ya insist."

Rick pulled back slightly, hand leaving its trail to, instead, hold your wrists -gently, as his thumbs rubbed into your wrists. With another breath, he kissed your palms -pressing his lips there ever so slightly.

"I'm tired of being on the sidelines," he spoke, low and soft, "-I... I want it to be us. Together."

"Together?" You echoed.

"Like you stay in my house, you sleep in my bed, we go to dinners together instead of so... so far apart-"

"And you can tell me who to kiss?" You added, playfully.

"And I'm the only one you can kiss," he corrected with the smallest of grins, but there was something hard in his eyes. Something serious.

"So," you spoke, expectantly, "-kiss me then. So, I can see what I'm stuck with."

"Stuck?" He laughed, slowly leaning in, "-Oh darlin' you're gonna be far from stuck."

[thornedswan]

don't ever let me in your inbox because the moment you answer me, I'll start running with it.

[inkskinned]

because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.

you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.

you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.

don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.

if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.

you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:

how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!

aren't you happy yet?

[cyancees]

i have neither a good imagination nor aphantasia, but a secret third thing

[danijaci]

Dr Ratio pls save meee 😭🙏🙏

[doccywhomst]

tumblr glitch that hath rended my dash asunder:

free shitpost generator??? why isn’t this an official browsing mode. anyway here are my fav screen grabs, all hits no misses:

pure poetry. it’s like trying to tune into a specific radio station but you have giant lobster claws instead of hands

[time-woods]

you cant tell me he wasnt holding back any comments

[reineydraws]

i dont have a caption for you lol i'll let shanks's heart eyes speak for themselves 🫶

(source)

[itsgrimeytime]

Don't Let Me In (with no intention to keep me) || Rick Grimes (TWD)

Based on the song: 'It Will Come Back' by Hozier

Available on AO3

Summary: That day, your camp was raided. Gunfire and hostages, so many of you were lucky to be alive. After Rick and a few others gained control of the situation, you realize you were hurt. It was just a few scratches, there were others with worse. Rick highly disagreed.

TWS: TENSION (both kinds), blood, gore, gun violence (violence in general), being held at gunpoint, implied murder, death, revenge, murder jacket!Rick, kind of dark!Rick, possessiveness, protectiveness, all things consistent with TWD.

[[A/N: KIND OF SPICY, but not really??? It's hard to explain. This is really just the 'who hurt you' trope between you and Rick with nothing left to lose. Needed this kinda vibe after all the fluff recently. For bestie @murder-jacket !!! Enjoy :)) ]]

Your head was spinning, and it felt like you couldn't breathe.

Rick and a few others had gone off on a supply run -resources were whittling down and the group needed more. But of course, the one time most of the weapons are gone is when a group decided to swarm. It wasn't exactly like you were empty-handed, but without some of your best shooters... you were almost desolate.

You held onto Carl like it was the last thing you'd ever do, squeezing his shirt so tight in your fingers the fabric was morphing into a shape. In a distant part of your mind, you knew you were muttering to him -promises that everything would be fine, that they'd be back before he even knew it.

And then, one of the men turned to you.

"So," he spoke, waltzing up a slow pace towards the two of you, "-you're the sweetheart, huh?"

You stiffened, hesitating wrapping your fingers around Carl -you could probably just push him away... keep him safe. At the thought, Carl stood against you tighter -protective even, but you wouldn't let him do anything stupid.

"Quite a beaut," the man spoke, trailing the tip of his gun to under your chin and tilting up your face to match his, "-aren't ya?"

"Look," you spoke, voice steady and calm (you'd been through much much worse), "-just leave him alone and I'll-"

"What?" He pushed, tone drenched in frustration, pushing the tip of the gun into your neck, "Do whatever I say? Surprisingly, I think we've got that covered."

The distant sound of gunshots echoed then, it was far from you -he had singled you two out. (Someone had luckily hidden with Judith, Carol had subtly told you before they separated you.)

You froze, trying to see by some grace if you could hear anything -was it your people? Or was it them? Were they dying? That was until you saw the look on the unnamed man's face.

His face was twisted in confusion, spun to meet the sounds -he was not aware of those shots. You could tell, and a tiny part of you hoped for Rick to have returned early.

He cleared his throat, turning towards the two of you -Carl still attached at your hip, "Leave the kid, you, come with me."

"That's not happening," you gritted through your teeth, hand tightening on Carl.

You couldn't protect him if he wasn't by you, you hadn't known what they wanted to do or why they were even here. Carl was not safe with you, but he was even less safe when he was alone. You wouldn't let him leave your side. You couldn't.

"Heroic, really," he tsked, seeming to regain his confidence -dragging the gun along your jaw to your temple, "-but I don't think I gave you a choice."

And then, there was movement behind him. You couldn't properly see what or who it was, but Carl -who was held tightly by your side, loosened. Relaxed, even.

That was... good. Maybe it was someone you knew.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

The low drawl was gravelly, a tone he'd only found in anger -Rick. Even just his voice helped your breaths calm, the cool metal stark against your skin. You still stood as still as a statue, you'd give him no reason to shoot -no sudden movements.

"Well, look here-" the man exhaled, "-if it ain't the man of the hour."

"I don't think you heard me," Rick echoed and you could barely see him, but you saw a shadow of the movement -the click of a gun.

On instinct, your breath hitched -heavy in your chest, you realized then that you hadn't wanted to die. It was a terrifying thought, then, as the metal dipped into your skin; it was surely something to realize then.

"Frankly, I don't think you have the power here, Rick," the man spoke, not moving the gun from your skin and adjusting you to face Rick and Carl now, who had thankfully been ushered to his side.

You were looking at him now, eyes placed so delicately on his form and there was a steely gaze there -matched only by the man who held you in place. His jaw, covered in the beard he'd so recently grown, was set, pinched in the way it always was when he was in a situation he didn't want to be in. His jacket, once pristine, was now stained on the white with an ominous red, and part of you, without thinking, scanned him over at the mere thought that the blood might be his.

Rick's gaze flicked to you, just for a few seconds -looking for injuries, maybe, just like you were. There was a softness as he did so, the blue gaze affectionate and careful -they stuttered at your scraped forearms, jaw clenched and eyes determined. It didn't seem too bad, just stung against the cool breeze of the night -you doubted it was even bleeding.

"Oh, I'm sorry-" he began in response, tone aggressive in a demanding sort of way, "-did you call those gunshots earlier? Was that part of your master plan?"

The man quietened, and you could only imagine his face. Rick was angry, and in some twisted way, you were delighted he was this angry over you.

"Because, if I'm remembering correctly," he was stepping closer now, slow steady steps -his tone light, but there was something heavy there, something furious, "-that was my call."

The man was silent for a second, and you felt the coolness of the metal falter -he readjusted it, pushing farther into your skin. You hissed at the pressure, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw Rick still at the noise.

His eyes gleamed, flickering over you -trying to convey something to you (a safety) and then straying to your neck.

"You wouldn't," the man finally spoke, but there was no nerve behind it -he was scared. And as your eyes fluttered upon Rick, who looked just a bit like a man with nothing to lose, you wondered if you would be too.

He didn't give him the dignity of a response, trailing on, "I mean, don't you think they woulda come to you by now?"

That was when the man moved, faltering against you -he was shaking, and you could feel it. The cool metal was no longer directly against your skin but distant, the deep breaths now heavy in your ear -he was panicking.

"Look, you-" he straightened, trying to gain some sense of control then and pointedly looking at Rick, "-you let me go. Nothing happens to 'em."

He remained calm, or still, you guessed you should say, there was nothing behind those eyes that was calm. They were a heavy sort of gaze, intense and direct -if looks could kill, this man would be on his knees.

"What did ya say earlier?" he hummed, stepping even closer now, the crunch of the grass under his boots the only noise other than the heave of breaths. Rick was agonizing, steps deliberate, and the tension in the air was thick enough to suffocate you.

And then he was a breath away from the man, pistol up and located square in his forehead, "Frankly, I don't think you have the power here."

Maybe if it was another day or another person, Rick would've hesitated.

On this day with you there, he didn't.

It was quick, at least, your ear ringing and the side of your face covered in a sort of sludge you really didn't want to think about. And Rick was unflinching, at the blood that now smeared across his face -eyes set in a sort of stare that you'd recognized maybe once before.

Carl was the first to move, rushing to you, "You okay?"

You coughed, the adrenaline leaving a sort of dizziness in its wake and your stomach swirling with a kind of dread at what had happened mere feet from you, "I'm fine, I-I swear. Just a little shaken up."

Rick was close behind, without much thought ripping the hems of his shirt off -wordlessly, before taking his hands (that had just killed a man) and so delicately wrapping the cloth around your forearms. Bloodstained fingers pushing gently into your skin like you could break like you were something so precious.

"You don't need to-"

His eyes leveled at you, usually so fuzzily affectionate, now a sort of steely gaze -unmoving and intense. There was something there you hadn't seen from him before, protective to an extent you'd never seen. It wasn't like when he shoved you behind him when a gun was pulled, this was more instinctive.

"Carl, go get some water-" he was condensed in his speech, tone gruff but not necessarily rude -it was more direct in a brash way.

You remained still, watching simply as his hands circled around the scrapes -eyes focused on the motion, he hardly seemed to notice your gaze. It was a curious one, after such a clash in your head -how could he still be so gentle, after-

Carl was quick, a little canteen he kept on his hip filled with, what you assumed, was river water. The camp had been too far for anything else -especially with the speed unless it had been longer than you thought. The bandaging was methodical and with your head in such a state, you wouldn't be surprised.

Without so much as a word, Rick tugged another scrap shoved away in a pocket and wet it, "Thank you. You go check on the others for me?"

Carl hesitated for no more than a second, before heading back the way he'd just come.

Something in you flipped at the idea of you and Rick alone here suddenly -not quite unsettled or scared. It was more anticipation, as the air fizzled with a sort of spark you hadn't thought possible in the apocalypse. Or maybe ever.

Rick was unfazed, raising the makeshift rag to wipe your cheek -his calloused fingertips leaving a sort of trail across your skin. And your head still stayed in that sort of fuzzy spin that it was, a bit more affectionate than the one before. The metallic and somehow woodsy smell grounded you back to where you were, you leaned into his touch -just slightly.

"There ya are, sweetheart," he whispered, smiling in a small sort of way -fingertips trailing over your eyebrow, "-with me now?"

You only nodded, a bit too speechless at a touch so tender after something so... violent.

"Words," he clarified, blue eyes set into yours.

"Yes," you spoke, your throat scratchy and eyes dry, "-yes, I'm here."

Before he could say anything, you gently took the rag from his hand -rewetting it with the ease of a sip from the canteen. Your hand gently brushed across his face -wiping off the blood with the gentlest of movements. It felt far too intimate than it should've been.

Rick was silent, blue eyes in a steady haze across your face -surfing across your features in a sort of pleasant buzz. In the teeniest of moments, he leaned into your palm. His warm skin against your own sent something to your toes then, but you had a job to do.

When you finished, sweeping the rag across his nose with a swift motion -he took the rag, stashing it. In a sort of instinct, his hands went up to cup your face -determination settling somewhere deep in his eyes and a sort of worry in the furrow of his eyebrows.

"This will never happen again," he spoke -sounding somehow like a demand and a promise all at once, "-'kay?"

"And if it does?"

His eyes returned to the steely gaze -far away and distant from where you stood, and the heaviness there was enough to make your heart skip a beat. In fear? You couldn't tell.

Rick didn't stutter then, voice steady and with an unshakeable certainty -like you had asked if the sky was blue. His eyes shadowed in a sort of shade that spoke for itself.

"I think you know."

[newttxt]

caught him againnnn

[verflares]

meteorologists report sky just a little bluer today, and it's because skyloft residents link and zelda are in love :)

[avadaniels]

I just want to know you. You know me.

MATT BOMER & JONATHAN BAILEY as HAWK & TIM Fellow Travelers S01E01 “You're Wonderful” (all episodes)

[astrowarr]

i just watched scott's session 7 and noticed a pattern: every single person forgot about grian.

grian hasn't been caught yet, cleo and scott establish. barely a minute later, scott is leading cleo and bigb by the hands to his secret spot and saying "i think we're the last three." like the name has slipped right out of his hands.

as etho tells the other zombies that no, actually, he doesn't want to kill cleo, it occurs to him suddenly. "actually, i kind of want grian to succeed on this, don't i? he's my teammate," he says, not like he doesn't care for grian, but like he's shocked he even forgot in the first place. (seconds later, he lifts his gaze to the sky, and he sees where grian is hiding. he's the only one who sees. he carries this secret with him as he watches grian run, an apology of sorts; sorry I forgot. I hope this makes it better.)

but it got me thinking: this is what grian does, isn't it? even since 3rd life, where he hid in the shadow of scar, whose face was always, always in the light, as he burrowed under doorways, covered in redstone and days-old blood. no one thinks of him as scar sells them the coffins grian will put them in.

grian has mastered the art of becoming nothing. he's so nothing, in fact, that his presence glances off the skin of even his friends. his name slips away from them. he disappears time and time again, falling through their fingers like sand. there are brief moments: "where's grian?" someone asks, but their blood is boiling and their fingers are itching. the image is a mirage and the sand crumbles at their fingertips. it's gone as soon as it comes; back to cleo, green cleo, uninfected cleo.

a reminder, perhaps from the universe itself. he is nothing but a ghost of a memory, a whisper of a promise. this is by design. the universe is telling him this, as it strings grian up limb by limb: you were only ever meant to watch.

[recapitulation]

meal ideas!

low energy ("do not ask me to do any prep work at all, so help me god")

mozzerella cheese wrapped in pepperoni ("pizza tacos"!)

hummus and pretzels or naan (putting the naan in the microwave for like 10 seconds...heavenly)

canned chili (with shredded cheese and sour cream if you have it! boom done!)

instant miso soup (warm and lovely! put tofu in it for protein!)

cheese and cured meat, olives, canned fish, crackers, dried fruit, or whatever easy "charcuterie" type items you like

alternate bites of apple and spoonfulls of peanut butter (mixing honey or chocolate chips to the peanut butter is my favorite)

a "deconstructed sandwich": bites of lunch meat, pickles, cheese, cherry tomato, etc (I love roast beef and white cheddar for this)

yogurt and granola or fruit

put frozen potstickers + frozen edamame in the steamer/rice cooker, chill elsewhere with a timer set, then boom

tortilla chips + canned refried beans + cherry tomatoes + cilantro + jarred salsa con queso (or warm shredded cheese on top of the chips in the microwave for 30 seconds)

bagel + cream cheese + lox

microwave scrambled eggs (add things like green onion, soy sauce, or anything else you like!)

cottage cheese and fruit (mixed together or just on the side)

bowl of shredded rotisserie chicken + buffalo sauce + a bit of mayo + green onion (use a kitchen scissors to cut them right in!)

medium energy ("I'll boil water but don't ask me to chop shit")

boiled eggs and fresh veggies (put a little salt on top of the eggs!)

buttered noodles (my go-to nausea meal, it has never failed me. ideas of things to add: frozen peas, imitation crab, roasted garlic)

baked potato with toppings (I like cheese, bacon, broccoli, green onion, and sour cream)

quesadilla (add some canned beans, cilantro, or avocado!)

pot roast (requires a lot of time but not a lot of actual work. I love it with peas!)

cuban sandwich (bread, swiss, pickle, mustard, ham... my favorite thing to panini-ify by far)

pan-fried tofu with scallion sauce (this sauce goes well with everything and tofu is no exception)

pancakes or waffles! (I love mine with jam)

ham, pickle, and cream cheese roll-ups

fried eggs (with toast and lots of butter...so comforting)

fruit smoothie (bananas, frozen strawberries, yogurt...or whatever!)

I hate salad but could write essays on this copycat olive garden salad (throw it in a bowl! chopping required if you use onion)

spaghetti (controversial maybe but angel hair > spaghetti noodles)

pasta salad (olives broccoli fresh mozerella... those little mini pepperonis... yeah)

stir-fried thai garlic shrimp (I like using the mini frozen salad shrimps, it's easy! use jarred minced garlic to avoid chopping!)

tuna mayo onigiri

slow cooker ribs

buffalo chicken wrap (or any number of other wrap options! shred pre-cooked rotisserie chicken to make it easier)

if your local grocery store sells pre-cooked gyro strips, that can turn into an easy wrap with store-bought pita & tzatziki with tomatoes and onions!

couscous and chickpeas

tortellini + pasta sauce + spinach

high energy ("I don't mind chopping some things up!")

stuffed shells with spinach

chicken and roasted garlic (oh my god.....one of my all time favorites)

beef tacos (I like mine with cilantro and onion, and when I'm feeling especially high energy I love a tomatillo salsa)

chicken alfredo

tom kha gai (a thai soup and my absolute favorite! you just need access to galangal)

lasagna! (freezes well and then boom! low energy meal for later)

pad thai! (not as hard as you'd think, as long as you have access to tamarind paste!)

potstickers! (this is a lovely group activity if you want to cook with housemates!)

rice and beans

bang bang shrimp (ogughfhgfuh I love it. you can also do bang bang tofu!)

minestrone soup (so many nice veggies!)

fried rice (put whatever you have on hand in there! broccoli, peas, carrot, and beef is my favorite combo)

broccoli cheddar soup

spring rolls and peanut sauce

skewers (such as beef, onion, zucchini, bell pepper... you don't need a grill, oven works!)

roasted turkey with garlic parmesean asparagus

pork chop with mashed potatoes

panang curry

chicken gnocchi soup (use store bought gnocchi or make your own if you have a high energy day!)

bibimbap (super customizable depending on what veggies you like best)

butter chicken

plus! things that have helped me meal plan:

whenever you think of a meal you'd like to make, take 3 seconds to google search it, take a screenshot of the image results, and put it in a "food ideas" folder. instant visual menu!

the concept of "meal prepping" makes me recoil but I've learned that it can simply mean preparing shredded chicken, boiled eggs, or some other simple protein that you can customize throughout the week. shredded chicken can turn into wraps, salads, pasta dishes, etc... you don't have to meal prep yourself into the same meal all week!

when I have difficulty working up an appetite, I'll scroll through my favorite restaurant menus! there might be some foods I can't make at home, but many times they're very simple to recreate because the ingredients are literally listed!

[allgremlinart]

high school theater is so funny cus like. one year you can have the most cunt wrenching performance of Phantom Of The Opera ever brought to life by 17 year olds and the next year. a really mediocre rendition of Seussical The Musical.

[rootin-tootin-n-kind]

I wish we had a supernatural episode in nyc. Two kansas silly guys getting lost on the subway while trying to hunt down a vampire or demon. Dean complaining about no parking anywhere. Sam carrying a comically large map around.