#every few weeks though I go to the store grab a lemon peel it and it like an orange | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cowboy-anon · 3 years

Note

▶️ Apple :D go make some applepie :)

(yes my humour is very broken xD)

I swear this was supposed to be fluffy and short, but it got angsty and long instead. It’s so long it deserves a title AND I’m tagging people! Today Apple bakes a pie and we learn a bit more about Benji. 🍏 I’m not 100% satisfied with it but it’s still pretty good.

I should probably also note that everything I’ve mentioned so far is basically canon, besides a few minor details. Like, yeah, Jimmy’s canon, y’all.

CW: Broken whumpee, clueless whumpee, crying, food, implied captivity, neglect, pet whump, referenced past loss of consciousness, referenced past punishment, referenced past whipping, Stockholm Syndrome, unhealthy habits, yelling

Tagging: @sideblogformindtrash, @unicornscotty, @milk-carton-whump, @happy-whumper, @whumperfulart (Let me know if you want to be added or removed from this list! <3 )

Apple Pie

Apple doesn’t think your humor is broken at all, although admittedly he doesn’t get the joke. At the suggestion, he smiles. An apple pie would be a great idea to win back Master Clay’s affections, especially after yesterday!

Of course, to get his ingredients, Apple needs Master Clay to go to the store, and to get his ingredients on Master Clay’s list, he has to visit Benji. Apple hasn’t even seen them since their unconscious body was carried out of the extra bedroom last night. Still, Apple knows that for the next week, whatever Benji asks for, they’ll get. That’s how it always goes.

So Apple moves to sit up, but the instant he does, his back flares with sore, stinging pain. Ow, ow, ow! He freezes, biting back a whimper as his shirt settles against the raw skin. The sting fades into constant but bearable discomfort.

This time when he moves, he goes slower, and the pain feels like less. Apple feels overwhelming relief when he makes his way down the hallway and the hurt is tolerable.

Benji doesn’t talk, eat, or sleep much after a punishment, and this time is no different. When Apple nudges open the door to Master Clay’s bedroom, they’re laying on their stomach in the dark with the shades drawn, illuminated only by the haunting light of the TV. Master Clay always moves it for them on days like this.

They’re looking at the TV, red-rimmed eyes staring but unseeing at the colorful reality show playing on screen. When Apple sees them, he kind of wants to go back into the living room and wait until Benji’s okay again. He hates seeing them like this, so sad and quiet and small.

Maybe this treat will help cheer them up, too!

Apple pushes the door all the way open and crawls into the room, careful to shut it quietly behind him. “Benji?” His own voice is hoarse from yesterday, too, so he clears his throat and tries again a little louder when Benji doesn’t move. “Benji?”

Benji shifts on the bed, just enough for Apple to know they heard him. Apple crawls closer and kneels in front of them on the floor. It takes a moment for their red eyes to meet Apple’s, but when they do, Apple smiles.

“I need some stuff from the store today.” Apple grabs the pen and notepad sitting on Benji’s nightstand and offers it to them. “For an apple pie for Master Clay.”

Benji shakes their head slowly. Not now, Apple. He can see it on their face. They’re hurting today. Apple feels bad for pressing, but he’s sure Master Clay and Benji will both appreciate it later!

“Please? It’s only a little.”

Benji looks angry and exhausted all at once, and Apple thinks if Benji says no this time, he might just drop it. But Benji just sighs, then squeezes their eyes shut.

Rarely ever does Benji take a punishment worse than Apple, but this was one of those times. If the deep, bracing breaths are any indication, Benji’s thinking the same thing.

Apple doesn’t know what they’re doing until they let out a long pained hiss. Benji pushes themself up and moves around until they’re laying on their side and facing Apple. Benji takes the notepad, then motions with the pen. What do you want me to write?

Apple grins. Thank you, thank you, thank you! “Apples and brown sugar and cinnamon and a lemon. We need more flour, too. Oh, and ice cream!”

Benji writes everything down slowly, probably so they don't hurt themself more, and Apple watches mystified. Even though their hand shakes, their writing is still so pretty and swirly.

When they’re done, Benji peels the top sheet off the notepad, gingerly folds it up, and puts everything back on the nightstand. Then they settle back onto their stomach on top of the duvet.

From this angle, Apple can see the edges of angry red marks peeking out from the bandaging wrapped all around their back. Master Clay was kind to take care of Benji’s wounds like that. Maybe if Apple hadn’t tried to steal that apple, he would’ve gotten the same treatment.

When Apple looks back at Benji’s face, they’re staring at the TV again. He takes that as his cue to leave, being careful to shut the door quietly behind him.

***

When Master Clay returns with the ingredients, Apple is a little disappointed to find that he forgot the ice cream, but not ten minutes later, Master Clay passes through the kitchen grumbling about it. Apple’s pulling his ingredients together on the floor when Master Clay snatches his keys off the counter and leaves again.

Did Benji tell him that he’d forgotten it? Or maybe Master Clay noticed how disappointed Apple was and realized what he had forgotten! Regardless of the reason, Apple can’t believe Master Clay would drive all the way back to the store just to pick up some ice cream for him!

Apple feels a stab of loneliness every time Master Clay walks out the door, but it’s good that he’s gone. If he’s quick, he’ll have this pie done before he gets back. He can hardly imagine his surprise!

So Apple doesn’t waste any time. He mixes together all the dry ingredients for the dough and then cuts in the butter, careful not to overwork it before tossing it in the freezer. The apples are next. He cuts them nice and precise, and he makes sure the measurements are just right. Who knew that cooking show Benji watches would’ve come in handy like this?

Apple gets so into it that he starts to hum a little tune under his breath. He doesn’t remember what it’s called, but it’s soft and uplifting and he starts it over again as he lines the tin with the pie crust and layers in the apples.

Finally, Apple pulls together a streusel topping. It’s really easy, and it’s a touch of his own personal flavor since he’s not using the traditional lattice. By the time it’s in the oven, he’s forgotten all about his raw back, but he gets a harsh reminder when he leans up against the bottom cupboards while he waits. He winces and twists so that he’s leaning on his shoulder, not his back.

He doesn’t realize he’s fallen asleep until the oven beeps.

Apple wakes with a jolt, frantically trying to orient himself with his eyes. Right, he’s in the kitchen, on the floor. When he looks up, there’s a pint of vanilla ice cream sitting on the countertop, half-melted but still ice cream.

Apple smiles groggily to himself and eases onto his knees. It’s hard reaching into the oven from here, but he manages it. He uses a dish rag to pull the pie out from the heat and sets it on the floor in front of him.

The smell is heavenly. It takes all Apple has not to dig into the pie right then and there, because he made the pie for Master Clay and Benji, not himself. He barely ignores the way his stomach growls when he catches a whiff of buttery crust and spiced fruit.

Apple cuts a big slice for Master Clay and another for Benji, he scoops a spoonful of ice cream on top of each, and then he crawls over on his knees with the two plates and spoons in hand back to Master Clay’s room.

Apple gives the door a gentle knock before entering just in case Benji’s asleep.

“Master Clay? Benji? I brought you some pie.” Apple doesn’t know if he’s just surprised or fully disappointed that Master Clay isn’t in the room with Benji, but he supposes it’s a mix of both when he sees Benji propped up against the headboard of the bed. “Master Clay…?”

Benji shakes their head, eyes still glued to the TV. Not here.

Apple lets the flutter of disappointment go and instead crawls over to the bed, placing one slice of pie on the blanket and offering the other and a spoon to Benji. “I brought pie,” Apple says again.

Benji looks from the TV to the pie, and for the first time all day, a ghost of a smile passes over their lips. Apple can hardly believe it! He did that! Only as quick as it comes, it’s gone and replaced with a far more somber look.

“Benji, are… are you okay?”

Benji looks like they’re about to nod their head, but they must think better of it because they get impossibly quieter and more withdrawn.

They silently take the plate from Apple and break a piece off with their spoon. Apple’s excitement comes back full force. Hopefully Benji’ll feel better once they’ve eaten!

Benji is about to take the bite when their hand comes back down to the plate and they whisper, barely audible, “I want to go home…”

Apple doesn’t know what to say to that. How could Benji want that? With everything they have—pretty clothes and tender touches and everything they could possibly want—how could they ever want to leave Master Clay?

“You don’t mean that,” Apple murmurs. “That’s just the punishment talking. You have everything here. You can have anything.” At that, Apple feels a pang of something in his chest, but he keeps going. “This is your home, Benji. Master Clay—”

Benji hurls his plate of pie at the wall with a crash.

“THIS ISN’T HOME!”

It’s so loud and Benji’s voice sounds so raw and tearful, and Apple doesn’t know what to do besides bow his head in submission. So he does. Because Benji yelled at him. They’ve never done that before, no matter how exasperated or angry they’ve gotten with him.

The room goes quieter than it’s been all day. Of course the people on TV would choose now of all times to have a quiet moment.

When Apple dares to look back up again, there are tears streaming down Benji’s cheeks. Apple can’t think of anything to say, so all he says is, “Enjoy the pie…” Then he gets onto his hands and knees and crawls out of the room again.

Behind him, Benji’s silent tears turn to sobs, and they continue to whisper, “I just want to go home…”

Apple shuts the door.

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starlightxsvt · 4 years

Text

Sunrises || Choi Seungcheol au

Pairing: Seungcheol x Female reader

Genre: apocalypse au, slice of life (?), angst, kinda fluff, some action

Warning: zombies, death and stuffs

"Thank you for saving me that day." You murmur to the male sittig next to you.

Seungcheol, in return says nothing, focusing on peeling the apple in his hand.

It was the third day after he saved you and gave you a place to stay. The man didn't offer his name or any other information - though you figured it out from craved wood that hung on his room's door saying, 'Seungcheol's room' - neither asked yours but you enlightened him with it. He doesn't talk much and doesn't like to be talked much but you kept your mouth open anyway.

It was about two months since the strange virus spread and begun the apocalypse and you were lucky enough to have stumbled upon Seungcheol.

"I really mean it." You whisper. "I'm new in this place. Believe it or not but I moved here literally a few days before the apocalypse started."

You didn't get any response to that either.

"Do you have any family? I don't. My mother died long ago and my father's an addict so I basically ran from him."

More silence.

You take in his features which are too concentrated on peeling the apple. His brows were knit to a frown and he chewed on his lower plump lip.

You swallow, "Who's Sunghoon?" You know you probably shouldn't have asked the question but curiosity got the best of you. You saw the name hanging on one of the rooms which was apparently locked.

He looks up at you, an angry look on his face. "I swear to any higher being up there, if you don't shut your mouth I am going to feed you to the corpses by myself." He stands up murmuring, "This is why I don't like helping people."

You watch his retreating figure walk inside the house and you sigh, leaning against the apple tree and watching the sunset.

A week later

You thanked the heavens everyday for making you stumble upon a guy who's a farmer. Seungcheol had his own produce, a small field of rice and corns and a few apple and lemon trees. It was safe to say these were more than enough in a time like this.

The electricity is unavailable most of the time but it takes some surprise visits every few days for a few hours. That's when you and Seungcheol wash up and store water.

Your days go by rather quickly thanks to the neat system Seungcheol seems to have established. He had things run so smoothly that it was pretty unbelievable the world was going through an apocalypse right now. You help him around the house, cleaning things up, watering the crops and such. He had his own rules - don't waste water or tissues, don't eat too much, don't talk too much. You tried to follow them at your best but you couldn't stop yourself from starting a little conversation more often that which were only met with silence or threats. But so far, Seungcheol was a guy nice enough and you counted your blessings for meeting him.

A few more days later

When you ran from your place you only took your female necessities. Those were dumb things compared to others who ran away with guns and foods.

You sat in the guest room Seungcheol offered you, thinking about what you were gonna do after these necessities were finished.

Suddenly Seungcheol appears knocking on your door before entering. You turn to look at him as he takes a seat. "We'll be heading out tomorrow."

"Huh?"

"There's a super shop a mile away from here. We're going there."

"Why?"

"Why do you think, smartass? We need to stock up on tissue paper and dry foods. I visited there a couple times after the apocalypse started. Apparently the government and NGO's provide foods and stuffs there for the survivors out here."

"Really?Then where are they? We need to find them. They probably built a shelter, we can go live there."

"Do you think it's that simple?"

"Huh?"

Seungcheol sighs. "They are moving in their own pace, okay? The shelters are probably full now with survivors. When their capacity increases they'll let us know. I have a friend who works at the NGO. If he's okay he'll come for me."

"When was the last time you spoke with him?"

"On the day of the breakout."

"I see."

"Prepare yourself for tomorrow. Since you are living in my place, you are coming with me." He stands up to leave.

"I'm not a wuss, you know." You roll your eyes.

"We'll see."

"Yea. And you know, it didn't hurt to speak with me! We could talk more often Mr. Grumpy!" You call after him.

"Shut up."

The next day

"Listen carefully, don't waste anytime. Just grab the things you need and walk into the car." Seungcheol says parking the car in front of the convenience store.

You nod and watch him load his gun and tuck it behind him.

The store is a mess. Broken pieces and bits of metals everywhere. You both walk in and look for the things you came for. Luck seems to be on your side as you find a couple of dry food packets, some toilet papers and some pads -though they are not the best quality, you have to make do with these. You quickly put them on the tote bag you brought with yourself and turned around.

Seungcheol was on the opposite Isle looking through selves for God knows what. You walk out to the front of the store and see and notice taped there.

Food will be supplied here every week along with other necessities. If you are a survivor please hang in there. Once we manage more accommodation, we will come for you. Regarding the infected, our research says they are deaf, so please use that to your advantage.

You turn around to tell Seungcheol about this but instead you meet the eyes of a corpse. It stands there, a mess of blood and gunk as your soul leaves your body.

It approaches you, making garbled sounds and you take back a few steps. From behind him you see Seungcheol approaching will a huge piece of metal rod.

The corpse doesn't turn back to the noises Seungcheol's feet makes while approaching you through the mess, instead it's focus is solely on you, ready to devour. They're really deaf, huh. It opens its mouth ready to chunk a piece of your body when Seungcheol hits him in the head and bangs a couple more times to make sure it's immobile.

"Quick, get in the car. More of them might be around here."

You two dash back to the car, carrying your goods and he starts the car quickly. You look behind to see more of the corpses appearing from around the store. Dusk was approaching soon which meant the corpses will be more alive and ferocious.

The car speeds through the empty road as you clutch onto your tote bag. "Did you know they were deaf?"

"You didn't?" He throws at you. You roll your eyes at him.

"Thanks for saving me again."

"Maybe next time I won't."

Another couple weeks or so later

"I'm going to the supermarket."

"At this hour? It's almost dusk. Are you crazy?"

You watch as Seungcheol puts on the necessary protection on his arms and legs and checks his gun.

"They people from NGO deliver foods during this time since there is no survivors out at this hour. I'm gonna go there and try to meet the delivery guy. Also I need to refill my car."

"Why?"

"To pass a message."

"To your friend who works at the NGO?"

"Yes. I need to let him know that I'm alive. Then he'll come for me."

"What if he's dead?"

Seungcheol says nothing. You forbid him to leaves a few more times but he completely ignores your pleas saying he has to take a chance. Before he is out the door, he hands you his gun. "Keep this with you. Until now, they corpses have never been around here so just stay inside the house and you'll be safe. I don't know if you have your memories after you becoming a corpse but if you see me coming here looking like one of them, shoot me."

What? You swallow as your heart tugs.

"Stop talking like that. You don't need to leave. We've plenty of food. We'll get by. Don't do this Seungcheol."

"Remember what I said." He speaks, ignoring you and turns around.

"Wait." You call, tears pooling in your eyes. "At least take the gun with you. You'll need it more than me. Besides I dont even know how to use it."

Seungcheol looks at you for a beat before taking a gun and giving you a small smile - the first one he ever gave you.

You watch him leave as the sky turn in hues of purple and black.

You spend a restless night, sitting in your room watching the sky and thinking about Seungcheol. You think of how he opened up a bit more in the last few days and the moments you shared.

Sunghoon was my brother. He was in the military. We were outside, celebrating his discharge when the infection spread. The corpses got him while he was trying to save me. I failed him.

I waited for him for a long time, thinking he'd come back. He didn't.

Y/n, if I don't return by dawn don't wait for me.

As the night passed anxiety got the best of you. This is it. I lost him. He's gone. I'll have to survive now, alone.

You were about to have a break down as you saw the first streak of light spread through the sky. You walked to the roof of his farmhouse watching the colors in the sky. You start to accept the fact that you're alone from now on. That is until you see Seungcheol's jeep approaching towards the house.

You held your breath and didn't move your position, waiting to see him come out.

You thought sunsets were pretty until you saw Seungcheol's tired figure getting out of the jeep, his eyes meeting yours and flashing a smile, the brightest one probably, at the crack of dawn.

Sunrises were pretty too. Even prettier perhaps.

A/N: Tbh I wasn't so confident in this one but oh well, here it is. Also thank you for loving my previous work, it really means a lot. As for this one, if it doesn't flop, maybe I'll write a part 2 👀.Anyway thanks again! 💖

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sincerelyreidburke · 4 years

Note

Omg can I please have a fic where Quinn (possibly backed by all of SMH) absolutely throws down N*te. And then maybe comforts a Sad Nando bc nando is Soft and needles all the cuddles and support

Okay, this has been in popular demand for quite some time now. It may be 1:31 AM, but I’m counting this as a little birthday present for Nando.

Set during Quinn’s summer in Arizona. :D

One of the first steps of taking your boyfriend home for the summer is showing him around.

For the past six days, that’s what Nando has taken it upon himself to do. He can’t believe, actually, that he and Quinn have been home from school for an entire week already— well, a week tomorrow, but still— and yet here they are, arrived at the last day of Nando’s extensive tour of the Phoenix metro area. They’ve spaced it out— something one day, something another— like dinner at Tio’s one night, an afternoon meeting his best friends from home, showing Quinn his childhood rink.

He’s satisfied with his own performance as a tour guide, but tomorrow means his first shift at Tio’s restaurant, which means that summer job season is really beginning. Which, like, obviously he and Quinn can still hang out— they’re living under the same roof; and if it’s not Mama or one of the girls, Quinn is the first person he sees every morning. It’s just that once he has a summer job schedule, their days won’t be entirely their own anymore.

For Quinn, he knows, that might be a little weird, at least for these first three weeks until Gabi and Rosa get out of school. Once they’re done, the summer theatre stuff starts up, and Quinn is getting paid to do that, so he’ll have something to do.

In the meantime, though, Nando knows he brought things with him. Like his knitting stuff. And a few books. And his camera.

And until tomorrow, the time is still theirs.

“Okay, my love,” Quinn says, at the kitchen table, over his toast and eggs. The morning is all theirs; Mama is at work, so once they got the twins out the door and onto the bus, Nando made him breakfast. “What’s on the agenda today?”

Nando grins at him. “Oh, you’re curious?”

He shrugs. “In a way.” He’s wearing a baggy KMH shirt tucked into his pajama bottoms, and he hasn’t even done his hair yet. Nando lives for seeing him like this— his obsessively proper boyfriend, who won’t be caught dead in jeans outside of a party, in his pajamas in his family’s kitchen.

It has been six days, and having Quinn at home has given him enough fuel for domestic daydreaming to last a lifetime.

It’s going to be a good summer.

“Well, I saved a good thing for last,” Nando tells him, reaching for his hand across the table. “We’re going to the beach.”

Quinn raises his eyebrows, skeptical. “In Arizona.”

“Yes,” he chirps back, because two can play at this game. “I’m driving you eight hours south to the ocean. Do you have your passport?” Quinn laughs a little, and he adds, “No, baby, the beach by the river. There’s a little park there. We can sit by the water in the sun.”

“Ooh.” Quinn smiles. “That sounds lovely.”

“But first,” he adds, squeezing his hand. “I’m taking you to my favorite Starbucks.”

Quinn cocks his head, with amusement in his smile now. “You have a favorite Starbucks?”

“You don’t have a favorite Starbucks?” he replies.

“I…” He trails off a little. “I can’t say I do, actually.”

“Well, I’ll educate you.” He brings his hand to his face, kisses it, and says, “Maybe this one will become your favorite.”

Quinn’s smile is the cutest shit he has ever seen. “Maybe so.”

In the truck, on the way there, Quinn is watching out the window. “So why is it your favorite?”

“Huh?”

“The Starbucks.” He looks to him across the console. “Why is it your favorite?”

“Oh.” Nando grins. “Well, okay. It’s, like, classic Arizona architecture, and—”

“Wait, you like it because of the architecture?” Quinn chuckles a little. “Are you Ben?”

“Jesus, baby, are you chirping me?” Nando jostles his arm, and Quinn laughs. “You’re a regular KMH member. I’m impressed.”

Quinn shrugs. “I suppose you’re finally rubbing off on me.”

“Wow.” Nando loves his boyfriend. “I’m honored. But FYI, I was only starting with the reasons I liked it.”

“Okay, continue, then.”

“Okay, so it has a lot of really nice outdoor seating.” Nando pauses. “It’s, like, near a shopping center, but it’s separate from the rest of the stores, so it’s not just some ugly spot. They always have the good cake pops, and plus, the manager is cool. They have blue hair and they wear a bunch of pride pins on their apron.”

“Okay.” Quinn nods, as Nando watches him process. Or at least sort of watches him, because he is, technically, still driving a vehicle, cute as the boy in the passenger’s seat may be. “That does sound like a good Starbucks.” He pauses. “What do you mean by the good cake pops?”

“Lemon ones,” he replies. “And chocolate. And, during Pride month, rainbow.”

“Oh my goodness.” Quinn closes his eyes, like he’s having a moment. “Now I’m craving a cake pop.”

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re on our way there,” Nando replies, and he laughs.

It only takes a few more minutes to arrive. The parking lot is sort of crowded, but it doesn’t look like a mob scene, which is nice. Nando sees an empty table for two under a palm tree on the patio that has their name on it.

“Here we are,” he remarks, parking the truck across the lot from the door. “Our cake pops await.”

Quinn puts on his sunglasses. Their lenses are rose-gold and circular, and he looks criminally adorable in them. And also kind of super hot. That’s the thing about Quinn. He’s the cutest thing in the world and he’s also the source of literally all of Nando’s thirst. And he can turn on a dime. “I’m ready,” he tells him, combing back his hair. Already, with the past week in the sun, it’s gone a little lighter blond on the top. “I’ll have you know, my expectations are extremely high.”

“Oh, this won’t disappoint you,” Nando assures him. “I promise.”

They walk hand-in-hand across the parking lot, and Nando grabs the door for him. Inside is sweet air-conditioned bliss, and it smells like fresh-roasted coffee beans and the bakery case. Nando hasn’t been in here since Christmas break, and it’s been too long.

There’s a small line, but it won’t take more than a few minutes to get to the register. He tries to see who’s working, in case it’s Shai, but he can’t get a good look at the cashier, and there’s no sign of their blue mohawk among the baristas making the drinks.

Shai is actually, like, thirty, and possibly married, but they memorized his drink order in high school and always complimented him on his pride shirts, so they’re one of those older queer people Nando has just imprinted on. And, okay, yeah. He was totally excited to bring his boyfriend in here to meet them. It’s the little things.

Going around town with Quinn is like showing him off, and he has never been happier.

As they get in line, Quinn wraps his hand around his elbow, leaning into him. “It smells good in here,” he hums, with his head against his shoulder.

“I told you,” Nando replies, kissing his temple. “This is a magical place.”

He checks his phone, briefly, while they wait in line; he hasn’t actually looked at it since he woke up this morning. He has a few Snapchats in the cricket group chat, plus one from Nursey (he and Dex just got engaged, which, !!!!!!), and a separate text from Rhodey (it looks like he sent him a TikTok; Rhodey is obsessed with TikTok). He opens the cricket group, turns his front camera on, and snaps a selfie. Quinn is smiling with his cheek against his shoulder, and he himself looks like a little bit of a meme, but Quinn looks cute, so he saves it before he types the caption (coffee run y’all want anything) and sends it through.

In exactly twenty seconds, Rhodey replies. It’s a picture of himself in his work uniform— he delivers pizzas in Providence— and he’s flashing a peace sign at the camera. His hair is in a pink, blue, and yellow striped scrunchie. ya get me an americano. also yall are gay

Quinn snickers. “Well, I would sure hope so, Ben.”

Nando pockets his phone and hooks his arm around his neck. “Super gay.”

Quinn leans into his shoulder. “Mm.” He nods. “The gayest.”

They move forward a spot in line, then another. In fact, they move forward three entire spots without incident. Quinn is humming some showtune— it’s from Spring Awakening; he recognizes it— and Nando is keeping his eyes peeled for Shai, or at least someone he knows. Look at me! I’m in love and I’m happy.

But then God says, be careful what you wish for.

Because as they move into the spot where they’re up next to order, he catches the sound of the cashier’s voice. “... and can I get a name for the order?”

All of the life leaves Nando’s body.

“Holly? Great.” The voice is nasally, and a little artificially cheerful. He hasn’t heard it— outside of a few drunk voicemails— in over two years, but it evokes a visceral reaction in him. He feels sick, all of a sudden. “That’ll be right up.”

He must be tense all of a sudden, because Quinn peers up at him. “Sebastián?” he asks, and what a difference between two voices. “Are you alright?”

He tries to take a deep breath. “I, um.” He pauses. “I think we have to leave.”

“Next customer, please?”

“Leave?” Quinn squints. “But we’re next!”

The people in front of them step to the side counter, and Nando sputters too long. “We, uh—”

But when the way is clear, it’s too late. “Sebby!”

Nando wants to die.

“Holy shit!” Nate has a different haircut, and a Starbucks apron, but otherwise he’s the same— the same pasty pale skin, the same bony stature, the same face so easily twisted into a scowl. Right now, though, he’s smiling, which, honestly, is an expression that looks alien on him, based on Nando’s memory. “You didn’t tell me you were home from school!”

What he wants to say is, Nate, why the fuck would I tell you I was home from school, but what he does say is, “Uh, hi.”

He is going to cringe himself to death. He’s been home for no less than six days, and he is already running into his ex with his boyfriend.

When did he start working here?

“It’s been forever!” As Nate keeps on this weirdly cordial tangent, Nando feels Quinn still next to him. Quinn knows vaguely what Nate looks like, but what he knows better is the way he used to act, and the fact that he used to call him Sebby. Also, he’s wearing a nametag. And Nando feels as stiff as a board. “How’ve you been?”

Very carefully, Quinn unwinds his arm from his, and takes a firm, obvious grip on his hand.

“Jeez, I keep trying to reach out to you,” Nate continues, like they’re old friends running into each other, and not exes with a toxic history. “We really should catch up sometime, now that you’re in town.”

Nando takes a long breath, like it’ll fix the tension in his chest. He squeezes at Quinn’s hand, which helps a little. Quinn leads when they step up to the counter, and he inhales like he wants to order, but Nate is still fucking going. “Who’s your friend?” he asks.

“Boyfriend,” Quinn blurts, in his I’m pissed and I mean business voice, which, thank God for this boy. “I’m his boyfriend.”

Nate raises his eyebrows a little, looking at Quinn like he’s a five-year-old having a tantrum. “Oh,” he says, shrugging. “My bad. Although, I should’ve known.” Nate’s eyes dart to him for a second, and Nando wants to scrub himself clean of that gaze. “He tends to go for the little guys,” Nate continues, to Quinn, gesturing between the two of them like he’s comparing their heights. Then he shrugs again. “Gotta balance it out, y’know?”

Nando’s stomach turns. It stings, so much, and as soon as this is out of Nate’s mouth he feels Quinn squeeze his hand so hard it’s like he intends to break bones. He squeezes right back, and God, he knows it’s cruel and unnecessary and shouldn’t bother him, and it’s been almost three fucking years since he had to deal with Nate, but it still hurts. It hurts just as much as every comment like that did from him. It sends him back to memories of hating and second-guessing himself, and he just. He feels so fucking humiliated.

Quinn takes a very long breath, his eyes on Nate, while he digests this, and then he says, “Can I get a peach green tea, please.” He pauses, still squeezing the circulation out of his hand, and it is the only thing keeping Nando from tearing up. Which is pathetic. But he’s just. It hurts. “And he’ll have a—”

“Mocha frappe. Yeah. I know.” Nate chuckles a little, already grabbing a cup. “Extra whip, right?”

Quinn bristles, face flushing, and finally, Nando finds his voice. “Actually,” he says, “no.” Because even though that was what he was going to order, he doesn’t want to give Nate the satisfaction of thinking he still knows him that well. His Starbucks order may be the same, but there’s so much about him that’s changed since Nate knew him. So much about him that’s better now. Without him. He orders his second favorite. “An iced vanilla latte.” And then, because even though he really doesn’t feel like being polite to him, he feels like Mama might manifest in this Starbucks and kick his ass if he doesn’t say it, he adds, “Please.”

“Hm, my mistake,” Nate says, with a shrug, as he’s writing on the two cups. “I guess you’re a new man, Sebby. We really should catch up.” Quinn’s death grip intensifies, because he knows how much Nando cannot stand being called that. He brings his other hand back to wrap around his elbow, too, like he’s being protective, and Nando has never been more grateful for him.

“Anyway, that’ll be right up.” Nate looks so unbothered, just the way he always did, years ago, when he’d make a comment that left Nando’s self-esteem reeling for days afterward. “I guess I don’t really need your name for the order, huh?”

He’s writing on the cup, and Nando can’t see— or just doesn’t want to— but Quinn must be able to, because he says, “His name is Sebastián.”

Nate raises his eyebrows. “Ooh, feisty.” And of course Quinn sounds mad— but Nate making fun of him will do nothing but add more fuel to the fire. Nate looks to him, past Quinn entirely, and adds, “Does he speak for you all the time like this, or—?”

Nando wants to melt into the floor. “Just give us our total, Nate,” he says, because the faster they can get out of here, the better. Quinn is bristling next to him, but stays quiet.

Nate sighs, shrugs a little, and punches into the cash register. “If you say so,” he says, then announces, “6.23.”

And he thinks that’s going to be the end, but then, as he’s handing over his card, Nate keeps fucking talking. “Oh!” he says, still all faux-fake. “Sebby, you should take him to the lake. Remember, when we’d go down there in high school?”

Quinn’s grip on him tightens. This transaction cannot process fast enough. “We had a lot of fun,” Nate says, like he’s reminiscing. “Always did. It’s a shame; I feel like we never really had closure.”

Finally, finally, after what feels like a million years, he hands his card back, and Nando pockets it in a hurry. “C’mon,” he says to Quinn, because he cannot stand here for one more second, and as they walk away, Nate calls after them.

“Hey, give me a shout sometime!” He’s doing the fake-smile thing again. “We should really hang out, now that you’re in town again.”

Nando squeezes his eyes shut and takes a tight breath; he didn’t realize it before, but it’s hard to breathe. He feels sick and humiliated and awful, and when they’re far enough away to be out of earshot, he looks to Quinn and whispers, “Baby, I am so sorry.”

Quinn is surprisingly calm, at least in comparison to his clear irritation at the register. He shakes his head and rubs his arm with the free hand that’s not holding his. “Don’t apologize,” he says. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“But I just—” He wants to melt. “I had no idea he started working here; I haven’t even seen him since before freshman year, and it just— like, it figures, right—”

“Sebastián,” Quinn says, and his even voice pulls Nando out of his head. “I’m going to get our drinks, and then we can get out of here, okay?”

Nando lets all his breath out at once, then nods. “I— yeah. Okay. That’s— perfect. I’m sorry, baby.”

“Do not be sorry.” Quinn rises on tiptoe and kisses his cheek. “None of that was your fault.”

Quinn seems surprisingly collected for someone who was just ignored and insulted a minute ago, and Nando has this feeling, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he’s planning something, some kind of revenge— but what could he do, with Nate just working?

They station themselves against the wall by the pick-up counter, and it isn’t lost on Nando how touchy Quinn is being— not that they’d hold back in public for any reason in general, but he’s definitely going the extra mile right now, rubbing the inside of his elbow and leaning his head on his shoulder and holding his hand all at once. Not only is the touch grounding; Nando is also fully aware that Quinn is trying to rub it in Nate’s face should he glance over from his spot behind the counter.

Which, good. Let him fucking stare if he wants to. Nando hasn’t felt that humiliated in a long time.

And he hates that he let it hurt him, that one stupid comment— but it was such a reminder of worse times, times when he’d have to process things like that from the person who was supposed to be his partner all the time, and it was just. It was always hard, and it was always awful, and being with Quinn has helped him work so much on all of that. Quinn taught him, so early on, that he deserved better. Everything with Quinn is better.

He just focuses on holding Quinn’s hand for a minute, until Nate puts their drinks out at the pick-up counter. “Stay here, honey,” Quinn tells him, squeezing his hand before he unwinds his fingers from it. “I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” Nando replies, and watches him go.

Quinn squares his shoulders, takes a short breath, and walks to the counter. Nando is suddenly very aware that something might be about to happen. He leans against the wall and listens in, as he watches Quinn take the two drinks from across the counter.

He’s right. Quinn looks Nate dead in the eye and says, “Hi, could I just remind you of something?”

Oh my God. Nando widens his eyes. Is Quinn about to chew him out?

Nate says nothing, but looks unamused, and Quinn continues. “You broke up with him,” Nando hears him say. “After you cheated on him, by the way. Just in case you forgot.” Nate raises his eyebrows, but stays silent. Quinn is reeling now, and there’s no stopping him. “And I happen to know an awful lot about the way you treated him, and how much that hurt him, so don’t you dare try to act so friendly, like you didn’t break him.” Nando is frozen in place, as Quinn picks up both of the drinks. “He owes you nothing. He clearly does not want to reconnect with you, and I sure as hell wouldn’t want to do that either with someone who did nothing but make me feel awful about myself for two years.” Quinn isn’t even making a scene— the only reason Nando can hear what he’s saying is because he’s not standing that far away— but Jesus Christ, if this isn’t the most satisfying thing to witness in the world. Nate is red in the face and absolutely silent, and Quinn is staring daggers at him; if looks could kill, he’d be dead on sight. “If you wanted to be his friend, maybe you shouldn’t have stomped all over his heart.”

Nando cannot believe his ears.

“And,” Quinn adds, like it’s the end of a big monologue, “I’m going to need two straws.”

Nando is so in love with this boy.

He watches, trying not to smile or even laugh, as Nate fumbles into the thing of straws and shoves two in Quinn’s direction. Quinn takes them, flashes a big, stage smile, and says, “Thank you!” before he turns and walks back in Nando’s direction.

The fake smile turns self-satisfied in a second flat, as he meets Nando’s eyes again. Nando is still kind of frozen, but he wants to kiss him, right in the middle of Starbucks.

All he can say is, “Baby.”

Quinn is all smiles. He looks the way he does when he comes out of the stage door after a great show. “Ready to go, honey?”

“Am I ever,” Nando says, and they join hands again as they head for the door. He’s not sure if Quinn knows that he heard what he said. “That… was kind of the most satisfying thing I’ve ever witnessed in my life.”

“Oh,” Quinn replies as he sticks his straw into his iced tea, “trust me, Sebastián. It’s the most satisfying thing I’ve done as long as I can remember.” He pauses, as he takes a sip, and then adds, “I’ve been wanting to do that for longer than I can even say.”

“It was hot,” he says, because, well, it was. “And just… jeez, I— maybe something good did come out of this situation.”

“Of course it did,” Quinn replies. His smile is kind of maniacal, and Nando is into it. “I got to have the confrontation of my dreams, and I got an iced tea.” He holds up his drink. “Cheers!”

Nando bumps his vanilla coffee against it and laughs. “Cheers, baby.”

Quinn squeezes his hand. They walk back outside into the summer day, and Nando doesn’t look back.

Not even a glance.

#crickets #nandoooooooo #mini quinny #quindo #fuck n*te hours #ficlet #mel writes

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shanghai-ohmy · 5 years

Text

MaoMaoctober Day 29: Gift

It’s Badgerclops’s birthday, and Mao Mao brings him a present! It’s cute and nice. We love these boys. Read the fic on AO3 or under the cut!

Thanks to @htodinth also for suggesting what the actual gift should be.

Badgerclops hummed quietly to himself as he prepared dinner for everyone. He crushed a clove of garlic with the broad side of his knife, then pulled away the papery skin. It was a nice size and color. The fresh vegetables were good here in Pure Heart.

He roughly chopped the garlic, adding it to the substantial pile of cloves he'd already prepped. Careful not to lose any, he scraped the entire thing into a saucepot. It hissed slightly as it touched the shimmering olive oil. The smell of it bloomed through the kitchen.

Badgerclops sighed contentedly. He could have done all of that in a fraction of the time if he'd used his robo-arm, of course. He had an infinite array of gadgets available to him for peeling, chopping, and mixing. But cooking wasn't just about results for him anymore; he'd come to appreciate the process itself as something peaceful. Meditative.

He switched the burner on beneath a large pot of generously salted water. The flames ignited with a click. There were no cookbooks out in the kitchen; Badgerclops knew this recipe by heart. Simple and delicious, every time. He flung a large pinch of oregano into the sauce pot. Seasoning the oil before building up the sauce was one of his best tricks for packing in flavor. He let his mind wander as he tossed the cherry tomatoes with salt, pepper, and fresh lemon juice.

Today had been a good birthday, all things considered. It passed quietly, like all of his birthdays. Adorabat made a fuss, of course; she'd presented him with a special birthday card she made herself, covered in drawings of him doing cool things from their adventures. She'd even written his name on the envelope in cursive.

The tomatoes smacked against the bottom of the pot as they dropped in, splattering oil against its walls. Badgerclops covered the whole thing to steam. Once the tomatoes softened a bit, he would go back in with a wooden spoon and smash them. Sharing this meal with Mao Mao and Adorabat would be a nice end to his day.

With the tomatoes smashed and the sauce cooking down, Badgerclops turned towards the door. There was nothing left to do but wait, so he planned to ask Adorabat to set the table. But someone was standing in the doorway.

“Oh!” Badgerclops said, surprised. “Hey Mao Mao. Smells good, right?”

Mao Mao nodded, shuffling nervously. He kept forcing a smile and then dropping it. “Um… so, Badgerclops, I…” He cleared his throat, then tried to smile again. “Today is your birthday!” He cringed at how awkward it sounded, hiding his face in his hands. He muttered something to himself.

Badgerclops knew better than to say anything right now. When things were embarrassing for Mao Mao, it was best to just let him keep his control of the interaction, however tenuous that control was. He had no idea what Mao Mao was up to, though.

Mao Mao raised a finger, signaling Badgerclops to wait. He covered his eyes with his other hand, silently mouthing a sentence over and over. Finally, he nodded and looked at Badgerclops again. “Badgerclops, I got you a birthday present. Happy birthday!” He handed Badgerclops a meticulously-wrapped box.

Badgerclops held the gift in his hand, stunned. Mao Mao had never given him a present before. He’d always assumed that it was just too personal for him. Mao Mao was bad at expressing his feelings, and he didn’t really pay enough attention to other people to remember what kinds of gifts they might like. So this was a bit of a shock.

He turned the package over, feeling the weight. It wasn’t heavy, but it wasn’t light either. It felt kind of like a book, but it was too… airy? Badgerclops was baffled. The wrapping was, of course, pristine. Striped white and gold paper creased at perfect ninety-degree angles enrobed the whole box. A carefully tied ribbon adorned the top with a bow. There was a handwritten card slipped underneath it. “Wow, Mao Mao! Did you do this?”

Mao Mao nodded, blushing a little.

“Can I open it after dinner? I want to have time to enjoy it!”

Mao Mao went back to looking uncomfortable again. He had probably figured that Badgerclops would open it as soon as he got it. Badgerclops felt a little bad for setting him off his plan like that, but he wanted to really savor the gift.

He gently placed the package down on the kitchen table and stepped towards Mao Mao. He grinned. “Thank you very much for the birthday present, Mao Mao! I really appreciate it.” He pulled Mao Mao into a hug, quickly releasing him before the surprise could even wear off. “Can you go get Adorabat and tell her to set the table?”

Mao Mao realized what was going on and nodded, relief washing over him as he left the room to find Adorabat. Badgerclops smiled to himself. It felt good to give Mao Mao an out when he needed one. He couldn’t believe that Mao Mao had actually gotten him a gift. It was obvious how hard he was working to have that conversation the “right” way.

A few minutes later, they were seated around the table enjoying their spaghetti. Badgerclops’s sauce recipe was, of course, delicious. He bashfully accepted their compliments on it. “Thank you both for such a nice birthday!” It was wonderful, sharing this meal together. But in the back of his head, he was racking his brain. What could Mao Mao have possibly gotten him? Why had he decided to finally start giving him gifts? The curiosity was almost painful.

Adorabat and Mao Mao surprised him with a birthday cake from the bakery. It was delicious too. Adorabat insisted on singing happy birthday, and Mao Mao begrudgingly joined in. Badgerclops was smiling and laughing, enjoying every bit of the celebration. Finally, when the plates were cleaned and put away, he turned to the present on the table. He carried it out to the living room and called Mao Mao to join him on the couch.

“Can I open this now?”

“Oh, um, yeah. Of course. Happy birthday!” Mao Mao smiled and blushed, looking away.

Badgerclops slipped the envelope out from under the ribbon and sliced it open with a claw. He slid it away from the card. The front simply said “Happy Birthday!” with a cute illustration of some balloons. He flipped it open. The inside was a mess of scribbled out words. Badgerclops found where the finalized sentiment began. He read it to himself.

Badgerclops - You are a good friend. Thank you for sticking with me all this time. I hope you enjoy this gift.

Badgerclops smiled, already tearing up. Obviously it was stilted and a little rough, but Mao Mao had obviously tried so hard to get this right. He was doing his best to tell Badgerclops that he was appreciated. It was really, really sweet.

He placed the card down and gave Mao Mao another hug. “Thanks, Mao.”

Mao Mao looked away, embarrassed about the sentiment being out in the open now.

Excitedly, Badgerclops began to unwrap the present. He undid the bow and carefully slipped the tape from the paper. His family had always saved the wrapping paper from every occasion, so it was basically instinct to disassemble the wrapping as neatly as possible.

What remained was an unmarked cardboard box. It was about the length of Badgerclops’s forearm, and a bit more than half as wide. He flipped the box open, and…

He gasped, bringing his hand to his mouth. Inside was a set of shining silvery tubes printed with brilliant colors. Several brushes laid together along one side of the box. Beneath it all was a sheaf of thick, textured paper. Badgerclops couldn’t believe it.

“Mao Mao!!” He struggled to find words. “How… what did you… how did you know?”

Mao Mao was embarrassed, but he smiled. He was enjoying Badgerclops’s surprise and excitement. “Well, I remembered a few weeks ago when you got so frustrated with your watercoloring… You’re a really good artist, so I thought there had to be something wrong with your tools. I went to the art supply store and asked them what might help, and they suggested this.”

Badgerclops pulled out a sheet of the paper, feeling it between his claws. “Mao Mao, this stuff is expensive!” He set it down on the table and giddily examined the colors on the tubes. Even the brushes were obviously high quality. “I mean, thank you! This is really unbelievable! But it’s just a silly hobby…”

“Are you crazy, Badgerclops? You’re an amazing artist! It’s not… silly! You deserve good tools so you can make the things you want!”

Badgerclops couldn’t believe it. He grabbed Mao Mao for a big, deep hug. “Thank you so much, Mao Mao. This is an incredible gift. I’m gonna watercolor so much stuff, dude!” He pulled away and grinned at Mao Mao, who had turned entirely red.

“I’m… glad.” Mao Mao played with his cape nervously. “I wanted to make up for, uh, not giving you anything at all before this.” He chuckled. “Ol’ Blue said I should show my friends that I appreciate them more, and I should practice being a better listener, so… well, you know.”

Badgerclops rubbed at his eye. “You listened to me complain about the watercolors and you remembered just so you could get me a gift?”

Mao Mao nodded.

“Well then consider me appreciated, Mao. This was really, really nice of you. I’m so happy!” He hugged Mao Mao yet again, giddily. This time, Mao Mao hugged back.

#maomaoctober #mmhoph #mao mao #mao mao: heroes of pure heart #mao mao heroes of pure heart

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katladreemurr · 5 years

Text

Limes

Masterlist

( By sharksofwrath on Reddit)

When I was sixteen I had a summer job delivering groceries for the local Mom and Pop market. It was 1994, and the AC in my old mustard yellow station wagon was not keeping up with the blistering July heat. After my fifth delivery of the day, I sat in the break room of the store putting my hair up and laying some wet paper towels on my neck. As much I begged my manager not to, he insisted I wear the polyester brown pants and orange polo shirt that was the standard uniform. I tried to tell him that the inevitable pit stains I would suffer at the hands of my sauna of a car would be off-putting to customers, but he wouldn't hear it.

I was just starting to cool off when the boss man barreled in the swinging door.

"Hey Steph, we got another delivery for you," he waved a receipt in front of my face.

I groaned and put my head on the table.

"C'mon kiddo, you could be out chasing carts all day like Robbie. Plus, it's only one item, and it isn't too far."

"Too far" ended up being about 15 miles out of town. The drive only took about twenty minutes, but that's a road trip in small-town time. Sticky beads of sweat were running down both sides of my face, and my throat was burning from the smell of my engine protesting the heat.

I glared at the box of limes in my back seat through my rearview mirror. That was all the customer ordered. A single, goddamn, twenty-pound box of limes. What could possibly prompt someone to order an entire box of limes on the hottest day of the year? They weren't on sale, so that ruled out obsessive "couponers", those housewives who spent their lives trying to save a penny on a gallon of hand soap. And, considering we were a dry county, I doubted it was some sort of last-minute margarita emergency.

After passing mile after mile of cornfields and turnip patches, I turned my car onto a dirt road leading up to what looked like an old ranch that had been out of commission for a long time. It was lined with broken wooden fences, overgrown weeds baked by the sun, and bails of rusting chicken wire were scattered to either side. My car was creating a massive dust cloud, but through the haze, I made out a two-story farmhouse about a hundred yards away. That was when I realized it wasn't just dust I was trying to see through, steam and smoke billowed out of the hood. My engine had finally had it. I turned off my car, glaring at the house.

I hoped the owners could spare a cup of coolant when I got to the door, or at least their phone so I could call my dad. Peeling myself off the vinyl seats and into the dusty heat, I grabbed my citrusy cargo and headed off.

The distance hadn't seemed so bad when I was driving, but now it just looked further with every step. The box just kept getting heavier. The heat was bringing out the oil in the lime's skin, their perfume-like smell hit me in the face, stinging my eyes like they were mocking me. Doesn't everything feel so personal when you're a teenager?

When I finally got to the porch of the old house, sweat was running into my eyes, I dramatically dropped the box and banged on the screen door. A scraggly man, who looked to be in his late 20s opened the interior door. He stared at me with a confused look on his face.

"Y-you're not Robbie," he wrung his hands together.

"Um, no, I'm Stephanie. I brought your box of limes, and I was hoping I could--"

"I thought they would send Robbie," he was agitated.

"No, Robbie backed his car into Mrs. Adjimi's mailbox last week, so they took him off deliveries. Also, I was really wondering if I could use your phone."

"My what?" he looked at me wildly.

Looking back, it was definitely stupid to insist that the irate and unkempt man, who clearly did not want me to be there, let me inside his house.

"Your phone, it's just, my car died and I need to call my dad to pick me up," I pleaded.

"You see," he said through clenched teeth, "I ordered this heavy box thinking they would send him for sure. What are they thinking sending a girl out to the middle of nowhere with a twenty-pound box?" His eyes darted around the yard behind me.

"I mean, he gets off work at six, if you wanted to hang with him. Are you a friend his older brother or something?"

That seemed to make him chill out. He held the screen door open, "come on in, you can use the phone."

The house felt too still and unlived in. It was hotter inside than out, and it didn't have that "house" smell. You know, the smell of cooking and cleaning supplies or the general smell people leave when they occupy a space. It was just the dry smell of the dirt and dust that coated every surface in the house.

The man led me to the kitchen and gestured for me to sit at a table that was nestled between the counter and the back door. He picked up the lemon yellow phone off the base on the wall and listened, like he wasn't sure if it was going to have a dial tone or not, then handed the receiver to me.

"What's the number?" he turned his back, his finger poised to dial for me.

"Oh, I can just do it myself," I had known since kindergarten not to give my phone number to strangers.

He didn't move, just stood there, silent. After 30 seconds or so of this awkward standoff, I practically screamed out the number. I was so annoyed. My teenage brain was more embarrassed and irritated than scared. I was obviously bothering this guy. Plus, he was letting me call my dad. The killers on 20/20 never let their victims just call for help.

"I-it's ringing," I looked up and said sheepishly to him.

"Roberts' Manufacturing, this is Joyce, how may I help you," an overly cheerful voice answered.

"Mrs. Bergman, it's Steph, is my Dad there? It's really important," the man was now seating himself across the table from me, watching me.

"Oh sure, honey. Let me get him for you," her voice was muffled as she covered the receiver, "Trey, your daughter is on the phone, she says it's important."

I heard my dad's deep voice, though I couldn't make out what he was saying, just knowing he was there made me feel much better. I realized I was a lot more nervous than I thought I had been. "Hold on honeybunch, he's on a call, it'll be just a minute," Mrs. Bergman's chirpy tone annoyed me; and, before I could argue that my call was more important, she had put me on hold.

The man started to drum his fingers on the filthy table.

"I'm sorry, my dad is on a call, his secretary put me on hold," I tried to smile at him. He just stared at me with his pale blue eyes. They seemed to bore a hole in me. I felt like he was watching me make sure I didn't reveal something to my dad, what that was I didn't know. I couldn't help but feeling like I needed to lie though, I just didn't know what to lie about.

A minute turned to two, or at least it felt that way. I could tell the man felt the same way. He got up suddenly and began pacing the small kitchen. I focused my attention on the table in front of me. Just pick up, Dad, come on, please...

After five minutes had passed I knew my dad had forgotten that I had called, he was probably in the shop and didn't see the little red light blinking on the phone. Mrs. Bergman had to leave early every Thursday and had most likely taken off right after she put me on hold. I was frozen through, I couldn't bring myself to put the phone down. It was like I could see through that little red light blinking in my dad's office. I could see all that was safe. Did that mean that I wasn't safe?

Just as that thought crossed my mind I was suddenly ripped from my chair. The man's bony fingers dug into my arm. I yelled and tried to pull away, but his grasp was too strong. I tried desperately to grab onto anything in the kitchen. I finally turned my head and bit him on the hand as hard as I could. He let go and I fell to the floor. I crawled toward the back door, on the way I grabbed for the cord of the telephone. I maniacally started screaming for my dad, hoping to God that he would pick up and hear me. The man grabbed me by the ankle and pulled, I was on all fours so that caused me to come crashing straight down on my chin. He dragged me across the floor, I was dazed and couldn't even think to kick to free myself.

He stood me up and shoved me in a closet. My forehead banged hard into the coat rack, my ears rang and I slunk down to the ground as he slammed the door shut. I was in complete darkness. I heard the sound of heavy furniture being dragged across the floor, then being forced up against the door. I was trapped. After a few minutes, I heard a truck start up and drive away. I tried with all my might to make that door budge, I thrust my shoulder into the door as hard as I could, over and over again until I heard a loud pop followed by the worst pain I had ever felt. Despite the pain, somehow I fell asleep. I awoke to sirens and men's voices.

I screamed as loud as I could, which wasn't very. My throat was coated with dust, and I was incredibly dehydrated. Thankfully though, an officer heard me.

"Over here!" was followed by the furniture in front of the door being moved.

My parents were waiting outside by the ambulance. When they saw me, my mother broke down in tears and my father began yelling about finding whoever did this. After all, that time had passed, my face had turned into a horror show. I was bleeding from my chin and forehead, and everything was swollen and bruised.

I was laying in my hospital bed when Robbie's mom came rushing in. She had red hair like Robbie did. In my morphine haze, I could only make out every other thing she said to me. She grabbed my hand and begged me to tell her where Robbie was. He had disappeared without a trace. Well, both of us had. We were both off at six, neither of us had come home. When both our parents contacted the store, my manager told them I had gone out to the country to make a delivery. He suggested that Robbie must have met up with me and we were probably off "being teenagers" out on a ditch bank somewhere.

When they saw my car at the end of the dirt road, they thought they would find us both. When they saw no trace of either of us, they came back to town and called the police so they could search the house.

I told them everything I could about the man, about how he had asked about Robbie and was expecting him when I arrived. Everyone was confused. His parents had no idea who this man could be, or why he would have wanted Robbie.

I didn't know why the man hadn't killed me, or maybe he thought he had. Maybe he thought I would die out there, in that hot and dusty house, alone in the dark.

A week later I received my first lime. It was sitting on the front porch when I got home after a much needed day of watching bad movies and eating junk food at a friend's house. I tossed it into the yard, not thinking much of it.

The next one came only a few days after that. It was on the desk in my room. I ran downstairs and told my parents. They contacted the police. The police had already searched the old house, but they searched again. I told them that the man had to have gone back for the box. I knew there was no way he would have risked going into our one and only grocery store just to buy limes to mess with me.

They searched the house and again found nothing. Less than nothing, because I was right, the box of limes was gone.

For months after that, I was tormented. There never seemed to be any rhyme or reason for why he was doing this. I would find them on the hood of my car, in our mailbox, once in a coat pocket. They began showing up rotted and soft. I was able to smell them before I saw them, that overly sweet smell of decaying fruit. Every time I told my parents, they told the police, and nothing was found. Not even a shoe print outside my window.

I tried going to Robbie's parents, but my ramblings about finding fruit everywhere just upset his mother, and his father asked me to leave.

After senior year I attended college in Alaska. I wanted to get as far away as I possibly could from my stalker. One day, during my first Alaskan winter, I received a package from home. Well, from my home address anyway. It wasn't from home. It was from him. Inside, nestled in a bed of fake cotton snow was a black and shriveled lime.

Did you know that there are approximately one hundred limes in a twenty pound box? During the previous year and a half I had probably received about ninety-something. I finally understood his message.

I walked down the hallway of my dorm to the shared phone. My stomach turned sour and I felt bile burn the back of my throat. Luckily, it was late on a Friday and most of my floor was out partying, so I didn't have to wait my turn. I dialed my parent's number.

"Hello," my mother answered, nothing in her voice indicated anything was amiss, but she has a great phone voice.

"Mom, did they find Robbie," my voice was shaky. I knew the answer.

"Oh--oh God, Stephanie, how did you hear about that so fast? Your father just got off the phone with one of his friends down at the precinct. They thought we should know. You're so far away though, honey, you have nothing to--" "It was the limes, Mom. They were counting down. He was letting me know that Robbie was still alive. I could have done something, I could have helped him somehow!"

"No, honey, this is in no way your fault," her soothing voice was just too far away to work.

"I told him when Robbie was off work. I made him let me inside. I could have just left, I could have hitchhiked back to the store and told him some creep was asking about him. I should have called the police instead of Dad--" I was hyperventilating. All I wanted was my mom to hold me, but I had selfishly run away. I ran away instead of trying to find him.

I hung up the phone and ran down the hallway to my room. I curled up in bed and stayed there for days.

It took me twenty-three years to look up what had happened to Robbie. I couldn't bring myself to know what sort of state his body had been found in. What the man had done to him.

Robbie Jensen was found propped up against the door of the grocery store we had worked at. He was wrapped in plastic sheeting. Our old manager found him around 4am when he arrived to work the opening shift. He was missing several teeth. Some had been removed, some were broken. The tips of both his index fingers were gone, one of them was almost healed, the other was fresh. He had been sexually assaulted with foreign objects, likely one of them was a broken bottle. Robbie had also been castrated postmortem. He died from a gunshot to the head.

I never wanted to know all that. Even without all that knowledge rattling around in my brain, I've had to attend years of therapy. They say I have an extreme case of survivor's guilt, as well as the paranoia the stalking left behind.

I never wanted to know. I have to know. Today, my son came home from school and handed me a letter. He said it was in his locker, but it had been addressed to me; probably something from his counselor about his English grade.

Before it reached my hand, I could smell it, that citrusy perfume. The envelope was doused in it. Inside was a receipt for a twenty-pound box of limes. At the top in slanted handwriting was my son's name.

#wattpad #horror #the tales of horror #scary #limes #nosleep #r/nosleep #masterlist

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johnboothus · 4 years

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VinePair Happy Hour: Whats Been Your Go-To Beer in 2020?

After drinking our way through the first presidential debate, one thing has become clear: We could all use a little pick-me-up right about now. Luckily, it’s American Craft Beer Month at VinePair — giving us an excuse to celebrate all things beer.

Though beercations were swiped from our calendars this year, one great thing about beer is its easy access. During the pandemic, for some of us, that meant drinking local to help keep our favorite breweries and beer stores around, while others turned to old favorites at the grocery store or available to order online.

Read on for our favorite beers to sip during socially distanced hangouts, virtual happy hours, and beyond.

“I have been drinking more local beers than ever before. So many cans from Grimm, Other Half, Finback, Interboro, and Threes, especially. Some of these beers were easy enough to find at my local bottle shop before Covid, but others definitely were not. It’s tough to be happy about this, as the breweries are obviously all struggling so, so much, but it’s definitely allowed me to drink so many local beers I never would have otherwise.” —Josh Malin, president & co-founder

“Even during Covid, I was amazingly able to get access to fresh-hopped beer, a Holy Grail for beer nerds and a beer style that is only available once a year, right around fall harvest. This fall, I was lucky enough to drink Fresh Strata Hop IPA from Ferment Brewing Co., and it blew me away. So fresh, so hazy, so delicious. Was it my go-to beer? No, because it’s only available for a limited time. But it would be if it could be. —Adam Teeter, CEO & co-founder

“Blue Point Toasted Lager.” —Jason Russell, senior director, brand partnerships

“I unexpectedly spent the majority of 2020 back in my childhood home on Long Island, so I definitely ventured out to try more local beers around here. I came across Great South Bay Brewery Mango Starfish Summer Ale a few months ago, and I’ve been loving it! It’s really refreshing, crisp, and the perfect beer throughout the summer and even into the fall.” —Danielle Grinberg, art director

“I definitely have to go with Allagash White. It’s light, crisp and always perfect to crack open after a long day. I really love that you can taste the wheat as an aftertaste. And the fact that it’s lower in calories doesn’t hurt, either. It’s your perfect go-to beer.” —Gerry Selian, junior designer

“I don’t drink a ton of beer, but love the creativity I’m seeing in the emerging subcategory of fruited sours. My most exciting beer find in that area is Child of Zombie fruited sour by Kings County Brewers Collective. I’m a sucker for anything with passion fruit, and this beer delivers plenty of tart, tropical flavor (also mango and guava), plus a hit of tangy hibiscus. It’s refreshing, complex, and not at all sweet. My mouth waters even thinking about it!” —Erica Duecy, editor in chief & chief content officer

“I’m a lager lady first and foremost. My current 2020 go-to has been Habesha Cold Gold Lager, brewed with water sourced from the Debre Birhan highlands in Ethiopia.” —Julia Coney, contributing editor

“This has been the year of sour beers for me, which feels fitting for 2020. My recent favorites have been Wild Little Thing from Sierra Nevada, and Sour Monkey from Victory Brewing.” —Katie Brown, editorial associate

“My go-tos have shifted with each phase of the pandemic (it’s been that long). In the beginning, it was Threes Brewing’s Logical Conclusion. This gem was stocked at my local grocer by some Covid miracle. In the summer, as we started getting outside more, I was all over shandies. My favorite was probably Market Garden Shandy from Cleveland — it’s a non-traditional mix of wheat beer and lemon juice, instead of the requisite lager or blonde ale. It’s so tasty, extra-lemony from the lemon peel, which I love. Finally, it’s Oktoberfest season! In the U.S., ‘festbier’ really means Märzen-style lager, which is better anyway. Victory’s Festbier (Märzen) blew me away this year. Its delectable malty sweetness, floral hops, and smooth texture had me fan-girling for an old favorite anew.” —Cat Wolinski, associate editor

“No question, 2020’s beer of choice for me was The Crisp Pilz from Sixpoint. The aroma is bright and floral, and the taste is clean and, well, crisp! It has a very manageable ABV (5.4 percent), so you can have a couple and still hang out. Best served as they suggest: Cold, and in a glass. My serve is always a pre-frozen pint glass. Perfect year-round! Cheers!” —Liz Cronin, VP of brand partnerships & sales

“I recently went through a phase of trying new beers based on what was available at my local liquor store. I landed on [The Bruery’s] Offshoot Beer Co.’s ‘Relax’ Hazy IPA one weekend, and it quickly became my go-to. Just as the name suggests, it’s perfect for unwinding on a Friday night after the work week!” —Jenny Riddell, director of brand partnerships & events

“One of my last days going out before the pandemic was spent at a local New Jersey brewery called Magnify Brewing. At their taproom, I enjoyed a fruited gose, Trade Proof. Different versions are released every so often, brewed with different combinations of fruits — from raspberry, strawberry, blackberry, guava, and boysenberry, to prickly pear and blood orange.” —Courtney Roberson, editorial intern

“Looking back over what I’ve been drinking in 2020, I realize I’ve unwittingly become a Covid cliché: More often than not, I’ve turned to higher-proof drinks, mainly cocktails and neat spirits. When I have enjoyed a beer, I’ve gone down the comforting, nostalgia route. For me that means Guinness, which always delivers when poured with a little precision from the can. Sláinte!” —Tim McKirdy, staff writer

“My 2020 beer drinking is at an all-time low, considering quarantine. However, whenever I’m at the store and have an extra hand to carry it, I grab Allagash White. It’s always refreshing, spicy, and reminds me of late nights with great friends.” —Jeff Licciardello, director of marketing

The article VinePair Happy Hour: What’s Been Your Go-To Beer in 2020? appeared first on VinePair.

Via https://vinepair.com/articles/vinepair-happy-hour-best-beer-2020/

source https://vinology1.weebly.com/blog/vinepair-happy-hour-whats-been-your-go-to-beer-in-2020

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isaiahrippinus · 4 years

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VinePair Happy Hour: What’s Been Your Go-To Beer in 2020?

Read on for our favorite beers to sip during socially distanced hangouts, virtual happy hours, and beyond.

“Blue Point Toasted Lager.” —Jason Russell, senior director, brand partnerships

The article VinePair Happy Hour: What’s Been Your Go-To Beer in 2020? appeared first on VinePair.

source https://vinepair.com/articles/vinepair-happy-hour-best-beer-2020/ source https://vinology1.tumblr.com/post/631430713449840640

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wineanddinosaur · 4 years

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VinePair Happy Hour: What’s Been Your Go-To Beer in 2020?

Read on for our favorite beers to sip during socially distanced hangouts, virtual happy hours, and beyond.

“Blue Point Toasted Lager.” —Jason Russell, senior director, brand partnerships

The article VinePair Happy Hour: What’s Been Your Go-To Beer in 2020? appeared first on VinePair.

source https://vinepair.com/articles/vinepair-happy-hour-best-beer-2020/

0 notes

btsinwonderland · 7 years

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Coffee & Wine - Ch. 1

An Exo Story...

Next Chapter

Full Chapter List

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Scrub scrub scrub.

"These floors aren't going to scrub themselves Mina," the man put his shoe on the checkered tile and rubbed it on a white spot. It immediately turned brown.

Mina watched him do it and sighed. She rested her hands on her knees and sat upright as he showed her the spots she was missing. Her hair had fallen out of place and stuck to her temples in frizzy patches and she was getting sick of the artificial lemon scent of floor cleaner.

"Thanks so much Julian, I really appreciate you showing me," she said with full sarcasm.

He smiled devilishly and bowed as it was his pleasure to do so every time he interrupted her routine. He tossed her a towel on the way out. "Don't forget to take a break darling. But not until you're done."

She rolled her eyes and scrubbed away. The kinks in her arms cracked and popped as she pushed the scrubber up and down the floor. Her shoulders cracked and she felt the burning sensation in her biceps. It was a good feeling though, she would rather do physical work than nothing. It felt as though she was accomplished when she looked down at the sparkling floor of the kitchen. A thin smile spread across her face until a waiter came crashing through the revolving door with his dirty shoes. He must have been working on the patio. He took one step inside and apologized to Mina about ruining her perfect floor.

"It's fine, we all must learn to let go. But next time, can you please wipe your shoes before you come back from the patio?"

On her way home the sun was perfectly warm. The purple tassels on her bike glittered in the light. Weaved shadows were cast on the ground from her basket on the front where she hid her Hello Kitty bento box and cell phone. The breeze from riding downhill swept up her hair and she smiled.

People were all over the streets that day. It was a long weekend in the middle of the summer and their city was a prime location for tourists. She eyed the famous coffee shop down fifth street and saw the longest lineup. She salivated thinking of the cold bittersweet taste that might tantalized her tongue.

As she was pondering the thought of waiting in that ridiculous line her bike was at an intersection. Suddenly a long black car crashed into her. She gasped loudly and fell over though there was minimal damage done.

"Oww..." She rubbed the side of her hip as she slowly got up.

A loud horn came from the vehicle.

"Are you kidding me? You ran into me!" She slapped her hand on the hood as she walked her warped bicycle off the street.

She peered inside the tinted windows to see only the silhouette of a figure which she shook her fist at. The car now drove past her and she realized it was a stretch limo that pulled up beside the coffee shop. The chauffeur stepped out, skipped the line, and went right to the counter receiving immediate service.

Mina saw the whole thing and waved her arms in the air. "Are you joking!" She grunted in frustration and stormed away with her bike.

She was muttering the entire way home about how angry the whole fiasco made her. Each time the wheel of her bike rolled on the bent edge and gave her hands a bump, her anger was revitalized.

Her house was in a large neighbourhood that mostly consisted of single workers or low income families. They lived beside the tracks and the train went over their house every morning. She walked past the three laundromats that squabbled with each other over prices every week. Right beside her house was a convenience store that looked more like a street side smoke shop.

She walked up to the till and saw the shining face of her father. He beamed at her and walked around the till when he saw her. She held out her arms and received a gigantic bear hug in return as her father was a very tall large man. It seemed as though all her frustrations melted away with his magical hug.

"Mina darling, how was your day?" He said with his million dollar smile.

Internally rolling her eyes at the thought of work, externally smiling back, she said, "it was great!"

"I left food in the fridge, I'll be going out tonight so please help yourself," he said. With that he returned to the till as a few customers came up to buy cigarettes.

She went around the back and entered her home. It was a one bedroom borderline one room place. She thought of it as the three step house where conveniently enough, everything was three steps away.

Once she got settled in she put on her cleaning gloves and cleaned the dishes, took out the garbage, dusted the shelves, and swept the floor. In a heap of dirty laundry she collapsed and smiled as she checked her watch. Record time.

She clicked on the television and flipped around the channels. Sports, no. Cooking, looked good-maybe. Fashion, no. Reality, no. Comedy, no. News, no-

A headline popped across the screen: Latest teen at Exodus Academy caught in pregnancy scandal!

It showed a girl in the famous blue and grey uniform with a checkered skirt, her face blurred, and in a positively horrid pose. The news anchor spoke. "Parents are shocked today to find out about the scandals emerging from Exodus Academy. The president, Song Bin, has issued a statement: There is no controlling a bad storm, the weather does what it does. All we can do is teach our children the correct values and honour which is what Exodus Academy stands for. We will not allow a few bad eggs to poison the pen."

Mina shook her head in disgust and was about to flip the channel when they changed the screen to another image. The news anchor continued, "Breaking news about the father of this child, evidence leans towards Kai Kim of Exodus Academy!"

Mina looked at the picture they showed, he had a mean expression and a leather jacket. A look to make any girl swoon. She hated everything about that Academy but could not help but drool a little when she saw that heartbreaker on tv. His cheeks held high in arrogance and his eyes glaring at the camera was enough to keep her from flipping the channel.

The screen turned into a montage of the renown Kim family. She turned up the sound unconsciously and leaned closer resting her elbows on her knees.

Pictures flashed across the screen of the famous nine brothers that rocked their region and sent their women reeling. Mina grabbed a liquorice candy from the table and bit into it with a roll of her eyes. How could they all be so beautiful and well off?

With a shake of her head she turned the television off. Enough of the voyeurism. Her head calmly floated back down to reality as she rearranged the items in their living room. She looked at the time and it was already past ten. Her lips pursed as she realized her father was nowhere in sight.

She opened the closet beside the front door and took out their sleeping mats. She laid them on the living room floor and brought out the blankets and pillows. She turned off the lights and set down a glass of water for when her father returned home. Just as she set it down the lock clicked and he arrived.

He said nothing when he arrived. That was when she knew. She took his coat and hung it in the closet. Then she put his shoes away and gave him his sleeping clothes.

"Where did you guys go tonight?" Mina asked as she folded his pants into the drawer.

Her father spoke from the closed bathroom door. "Oh, here and there."

She stopped folding. Her hands gripped his pants tightly. "Did you play any games?"

There was no answer from the bathroom though she knew he heard her. After several seconds of nothing she put the clothes away and went to bed. She heard the shuffling sound of her father getting onto his mat.

"I only did a little Mina, it wasn't much I promise, only a few tens."

She mumbled a goodnight and went to sleep.

In the morning she got up to an empty room and put the beds away. There was breakfast sitting on the table with plastic wrap over it. She peeled it away to see a small cloud of vapour appear and disappear. There were two eggs and a couple of pancakes. The smell of warm butter made her stomach growl. With haste she got ready and sat down to eat.

Her mood turned sour when she realized that she would have to walk to work that day and she was already running late. When she went out to the front to check on her bicycle she saw that it was completely fixed. There was a sticky note in the basket from her father, “Be careful out there Mina, I love you.” She smiled and her frustration from the previous night evaporated in a sweep of warmth.

On her way to work the weather was chillier than the day before. A cool front had come into town from the west according to the weather channel and she was prepared for it with her purple gudetama scarf.

Back to scrubbing. Scrub scrub scrub. This time it was the oven. She worked herself into a sweat and tucked her hair behind her ears. Her back pain was starting to kick in as she bent over the stove so she straightened out and hit her lower back with her fist a couple of times.

"What are you a grandma?"

She turned around to see Julian standing over her with his arms crossed. He gave her a raised eyebrow stare and she stood as tall as she could.

"I just have a kink in my back! It's common for people in their twenties..." she said without much confidence.

He laughed at her huffy explanation. "Take care of yourself, nobody else can scrub like you, you're truly a unique employee." With that he walked out of the kitchen.

It seemed whenever she saw that man her eyes rolled further back each time.

He came back in through the revolving doors and she was about to give him a sarcastic reply when she saw the panicked expression on his face. He had a phone in his hand and dropped it away from his ear.

"Mina Lee..." Julian said as if reciting instructions, "your father is in the hospital."

She dropped her cleaning tools and pulled off her gloves. "What?"

"He had a heart attack and you listed your work number as an emergency number," Julian said. His eyes were full of solemn sympathy.

"I have to go, I'm sorry," she said in a daze. The tears had already brimmed the edge of her lids threatening to fall.

"No, by all means, I hope he's okay Mina. Let me know if you need anything."

She thanked him while holding back an emerging sob and ran out the back door. Her bike swayed dangerously as she jumped on top of it. It wobbled into place and she pedalled as fast and hard as her legs could go.

When she got to the hospital it stood before her in an ominous fashion. She left her bike at the entrance and ran to the main reception. She barely noticed that her apron was still on.

They directed her to a room in the east wing and she ran as fast as she could. The hospital interior was typical and sterile, the walls were crisp white and stainless steel racks were mounted against them. Faded leather furniture and black waiting chairs brought her uncomfortable memories of sitting at a doctors office waiting for the inevitable poking and prodding. Though it was the smell that made her gag, a pungent scent of latex and sanitizer.

Room 304, she stared at the nameplate with a brick in her chest. She swung the door open and saw her father laying down on a hospital bed. She could only see his legs as the curtain was drawn. There was a doctor at the foot of his bed with a steel clipboard and a pen in his hand.

"Mina Lee?" He said once he noticed her.

"Yes," she said as she walked around the bed to see her father.

She was shocked to see another man laying there with a breathing apparatus on his mouth and nose. The doctor drew the rest of the curtain around the patient.

"Your father is in surgery, this was the room we first brought him to, I was going to-"

"He's in surgery? Why? I thought you would just give him some medication!" She felt the tears returning. She firmly set her mind straight and decided she did not want to cry in front of the doctor.

He went into a full medical explanation on her father's condition. He came in mid heart attack and the medication did nothing. They gave him a quick check up and decided the best course of action was surgery. The doctor then led her to another waiting room where the surgeon was supposed to come out and tell her when they were finished.

When he left she sat down by the double doors that led to the surgery rooms. She looked around and saw a few more people and wondered if that was what she looked like. Their faces looked haggard and tired. Sunken puffy eyes looked back at her and looked away just as quick. Nobody wanted company in a place like this but nobody wanted to be alone either.

The doctor stated that the surgery would take another hour so she left her jacket in the room and went to find a quieter place. The west wing of the hospital was much more lively, not with patients but the amount nurses walking around. She thought she might hold it together but the tears came strong when she passed the ICU.

She ran to a sign labelled 'coffee' and went to sit at a corner table. At first glance there was nobody in the small room so she put her head in her hands and started crying. She tried to stay quiet though she could feel wails growing in her chest. Hot tears streamed down her face as she thought of her father on the operating table. When only hours ago he must have been making her breakfast and fixing her bike.

Someone tapped her shoulder and she jumped. Her vision was intensely blurred from the tears and she saw the shape of a person. He was holding up a handkerchief. She blinked a few times and took it with a small thank you. She dared not to look up in embarrassment of being found in such a state.

“This place is no good most of the time, if it gets too hard, there's a garden at the edge of the west wing. It's a nice place to walk through and forget about it for awhile,” he said.

“I can’t stop thinking about it...”

She thought she heard him laugh darkly. “I hope you don’t have to stay here long enough to learn how.”

She nodded and thanked him again after which he walked out of the room. The interaction ceased her tears but she still felt the bricks in her chest. She wiped her eyes with the handkerchief and was pleased by how soft it was. Like satin.

As her vision cleared, she held the handkerchief out in front of her and noticed what high quality it was. The lining was smooth and immaculate, aside from her tear stains. She saw two initials on the bottom left corner, C.P.

She sent a silent thank you to the mysterious man and held the handkerchief to her face as she pondered going to the garden.

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

Hope you guys enjoyed that chapter! I’m not sure where I’m going with this story for now but I like the premise, so I’ll update when I can :) Have a lovely day!

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eulogy34-blog · 6 years

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The Ultimate Guide To coffee face mask

Blend all the elements with each other, spread evenly around pores and skin, and allow it to sit down for approximately 10 minutes. Whenever you rinse it off, therapeutic massage your face gently to exfoliate in addition. Full of vitamin C, orange peel is great for lightening dim places and acne scars. Evens out skin discolorations Can it be essential to stick to by using a moisturizer after rinsing from the honey mask? I exploit Neutrogena Healthful Pores and skin moisturizer. Contemporary papaya mashed , some drops of lime juice blended in will make a nice mask for growing older pores and skin. Papaya is large in Enzymes. It companies the skin and aids also with sunburn. website hold it on for about 20 to 30 minutes . Honey for your skin is basically character’s miracle, and these 4 Uncooked honey face mask recipes are some of my favourite homemade recipes for nourishing my pores and skin. The ideal face mask for acne can’t be bought at an expensive department store. In actual fact, it only includes one particular component and it’s likely now with your pantry! It’s amongst my personalized favorites: the Uncooked honey mask. All-natural clay has great skin-cleansing Qualities, and besides absorbing and extracting current blackheads, In addition it tightens your skin pores to forestall the development of blackheads Down the road. Raw honey was prized for its healing Attributes in ancient civilizations. In Egyptian And Ayurvedic traditions, honey was utilised to take care of skin wounds and Ailments (read through more details on the ancient uses of honey in this article). This conical formed fruit is extensively Employed in the beauty industry to produce pores and skin splendor merchandise. Instead of working with These chemical laden beauty products that even really comprise only a little proportion of strawberry, use mashed strawberries utilized topically to your skin for The natural way gorgeous, soft supple pores and skin. Fragrance – The uplifting odor with the orange is mesmerizing and calls for a enthusiasm following time. How it really works: Strawberries not simply are rich in vitamin C but additionally contain alpha hydroxy acids, which exfoliate the pores and skin. The grainy texture from the bee-pollen granules helps to exfoliate, too, allowing for the honey, a potent humectant, to better penetrate the pores and skin’s surface. Applying heat h2o, rinse off, tackling the sides of one's face and beneath your chin Specifically. Splash your face with chilly drinking water to shut pores. Pat dry that has a thoroughly clean towel. https://steptoremedies.com/diy-body-scrubs-bath-bombs/ is somewhat sticky and is usually a suffering for getting off. Only, use lukewarm h2o and Carefully scrub your face till it starts off efficiently coming off. Then you can use chilly h2o to wipe off the rest. Insert the water for your oatmeal and stir for a few minutes right until itâs plumped up properly. Increase the honey and yogurt, and place through a blender to sleek and Blend it rather well. Slather this throughout your face, leave on for 10 minutes or so, and afterwards wash with warm drinking water. Pat dry.

5 Tips about yeast face mask You Can Use Today

Strawberry is full of antioxidants, as well as other nutrients which might brighten your skin, exfoliate useless pores and skin cells, fade blemishes and nourish your skin for that healthy glowing glimpse. Let's take a further think about the nutrients in strawberry which can be great for pores and skin: Pat your face with gentle yellow mustard for a bracing facial which will soothe and stimulate the skin. Try it on a small test space initial to make certain it won’t irritate. Lemon facial masks The cinnamon and nutmeg honey face mask smells wonderful and operates miracles in fading acne scars and night out skin discolorations! Enable’s see the pores and skin benefits of the components In this particular 1: Solution: Any genuine honey will do, but my individual most loved is Uncooked, unfiltered honey as it retains additional of its potent therapeutic Attributes. I can actually inform the difference between the categories of honey I’ve used for my honey mask. Moving into the further layers from the skin, yeast fungi begin to actively metabolize Unwanted fat inside the cells, clear away toxins, and good impact on metabolism. Attention-grabbing site and thank you to the recipes. I actually concur with you that honey and cinnamon combos are extremely advantageous. Yeast is exceptional, but However induce allergic reactions,thus, right before making use of the mask to your face, pre-check out the solution on a small inconspicuous location of skin in place. When you have any redness, itching or every other unfavorable reactions about the skin, you are categorically forbidden to do this kind of mask. How it really works: Resveratrol, a robust antioxidant observed mainly in red wine but in addition in smaller sized quantities in white, may possibly aid to restore the destruction because of Solar publicity that can result in wrinkles and sagging, In keeping with a escalating physique of scientific study. Didi’s consider: “A whisk was The best Resource for whipping each of the elements together. It’s not the prettiest mask I’ve at any time worn—I appeared as if I had gotten caught from the cross fire of a colossal food items battle. Ideas: Use this mixture 3 to four moments every week (even a every day application is fine), but you'll want to prepare it new whenever, as it is vitally uncomplicated to arrange and most effective at that time. Facts: The citric acid in lemon juice is an excellent cleanser, and so is milk. Yogurt is usually a superb cleanser, as well as a good softener. This is vital mainly because making use of lemon juice on your own will make the skin really feel stretched and dried. Furthermore, it’s exceptionally moisturizing with the skin, a result of the presence of lauric acid, that is a saturated Fats. In addition, it repairs the skin and rejuvenates it, giving you glowing pores and skin. Bear in mind summer when exposed to significant temperatures the yeast speedily get rid of their advantageous properties. Soaked a washcloth and push it to the face to loosen the mask, then rinse with warm h2o. If you have delicate skin, you need to stay clear of rubbing your face since the coffee grounds could potentially scratch your skin.

Getting My coffee face mask To Work

Didi’s just take*: “I’ll get started with the odor. Let’s just say it absolutely was exceptionally captivating after a extended, tricky day of work. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dGVlhdxC7ag : I could have poured myself a glass or two as I sat Using the mask on my face. This coconut oil and oatmeal face mask is perfect for acne-susceptible skin thanks to its antibacterial and antifungal properties. What's more, it serves to soothe inflammation and restore the purely natural pH stability of the skin. Try out get more info of the mask over the again of one's hand or side of the face. If it causes irritation, Really don't use that mask. What’s more, because you can whip them up you, it is possible to indulge at any time (not merely when there’s an opening for the spa). Listed here are 6 of our favourite facials that you ought to But Once i took it off, my pores and skin felt outrageous comfortable, and I didn’t even need to use moisturizer that evening, though I did visit mattress craving a strawberry smoothie.” Acquired really oily and acne-vulnerable pores and skin? Fear no extra with this simple and cleaning orange peel face mask, which will leave your skin oil-free and moisturized concurrently! Several months back, my skin was wanting awful so I seemed in my fridge And that i remembered I employed yeast in my school several years so I claimed ''Enable' s try out it once again'' and benefits were fantastic: smaller pores, much less blackheads, several of the blackheads were being out from the pores so this is great in order to extract your blackheads or use nose strips, even skin, scars were being a lot less seen and my General complexion seemed muuuch improved! I'm pondering accomplishing normally as I love just how my pores and skin appears to be and feels after making use of it. Allow it sit for quarter-hour. Rinse your face with cold h2o and pat dry which has a clean up towel. The skin will come to feel amazingly smooth and look clear and moisturised. If the face is a little dry following the mask, specifically in acne regions, just utilize a fall of olive oil being a normal moisturizer. Fatty acids in higher doses, like those found in açai berries, seem to beat hyperpigmentation, In line with a 2010 paper revealed from the Journal of Medicines in Dermatology I also appreciate the graphics you set with your hub! I believe through the Re source hyperlink you created them on your own. Excellent task! They're basically best graphics to use for pinterest. :) Of which, I do think I am about to pin this to my splendor board on Pinterest to utilize for long term reference. Balance out oily skin with a gentle, but successful orange peel face mask that can depart the skin clean and toned. Should you be Fed up with the creams, crowded chemical substances, give relaxation for the skin under the miraculous yeast mask. And very quickly you will not be capable of just take fulfillment from the beautiful sight of your individual reflection during the mirror. Don’t rub or therapeutic massage when you clean it off as you don��t want the substances to exfoliate your skin far more. It is going to leave the skin dry, leading to your oil glands to create more sebum, which may trigger additional acne! Anti-inflammatory means your inflamed purple acne might be soothed and healed, making them fewer pronounced. Antibacterial and antiseptic Homes can help struggle off acne leading to germs and microbes, staving off much more acne and pimples.

Little Known Facts About diy face mask.

Blend every one of the components alongside one another, unfold evenly above skin, and permit it to sit down for about 10 minutes. Whenever you rinse it off, massage your face gently to exfoliate likewise. Wash and clean these strawberries carefully. Next mash them and afterwards blend them With all the honey and milk. Drain the mixture. Now, slowly and gradually therapeutic massage the pores and skin utilizing your hands in one circular motion for two minutes and after that wash with h2o. There are lots of face masks recipes from yeast with a number of accessory elements. Choose the ones which have been great for your skin type. Do not forget that yeast is especially excellent mask for oily pores and skin and for pores and skin inflammation. Allow me to share 5 uncomplicated recipes to have you began. Discover the a person that actually works for your skin variety or the challenge you wish to deal with. I actually have acne issues and have been on clendamycin lotion and not too long ago retin-a cream, so it isn't really similar to this 'cured' my acne alone but I am continue to using it with another factors. I exploit this almost daily, It truly is amazing the way it's Light more than enough but dries acne spots and will help moisturize at the same time. I seemed up why yeast aids and it was attributed to assisting cell turnover so your spots heal a lot quicker and fade faster/even tone and will most likely also help with wrinkles; exactly the same explanation people today use Retin-A. Yeast - a flexible product. With them and pastries taste better, and alcoholic beverages much better and a lot more beautiful skin. Within them you must just take tablets, even so the masks are suited to refreshing yeast. The usage of yeast to the pores and skin Many of us devote money on skincare products so skip the flamboyant serum and splurge on very good honey. You can use it to scrub your face, produce a scrub, or address the skin into a weekly handmade honey mask. alright properly it seems to obtain designed my skin smoother, but I have a single suggestion: it may seem noticeable, but don’t put it inside your eyebrows!! ? the cinnamon receives stuck in them and you've got to wipe it out harshly with a damp paper towel or wipe hahah & also when rinsing your face don’t scrub with all your fingers, do it gently or it’ll result in irritation through the little items of cinnamon powder and it’s kinda unpleasant ? I’m about to try and Examine back in tomorrow morning to determine if and of my acne has cleared up! Stir the mixture and therapeutic massage actions rub in the pores and skin with the face and clean off immediately after 50 % one hour. Now you have your orange peel powder, here are a few face mask recipes that will allow you to reap their Added benefits: As an additional bonus, vinegar even allows harmony the skin’s fragile pH. In this article’s how to put it to very good use. For anyone who is Weary of the creams, crowded chemical compounds, give relaxation for the skin beneath the miraculous yeast mask. And really shortly you won't manage to take pleasure from the beautiful sight of your individual reflection from the mirror. By logging into your account, you agree to our Conditions of Use and Privateness Plan, and to using cookies as explained therein.

Details, Fiction and strawberry face mask

For mask recipes that involve honey, vegans can both substitute a little bit of pureed banana, or perhaps omit it. When itâs time to wash the mask off, be sure you place a strainer with your sink or shower drain to capture significant particles: you donât would like to clog your drains. I are seeking testimonials for brewer's yeast and could not obtain a single but now I know I'm not the only one that attempted the yeast mask!! Within a bowl, just take some orange peel powder, sugar and almond oil. Be certain the amount of sugar is equivalent to your peel powder and here you might have a fairly easy recipe to a stunning smelling lip balm that’s powerful and simple for making. Application: Apply the mask on the face (particularly on afflicted parts), and leave it on for 10 to quarter-hour. Then, rinse off your face with lukewarm water. Pursuing https://www.wikihow.com/Apply-Face-Masks-Correctly , wash your face again with chilly drinking water. Papaya is full of antioxidants, and its enzymes aid to slough absent outdated, dry pores and skin cells for a glowing, wholesome complexion. Jasmin Fiore in the Deva Lifetime swears by papaya masks as Component of her healing regimen, and sings the praises of the rejuvenating ponder-fruit. "This tropical face mask will give the skin this kind of health and fitness, natural-searching glow, and It is also made to be Mild sufficient on all skin forms," suggests Sharōn Ronen L.E., the founder and owner of Skin Haven Spa Studio & WellSpa in Australia. Continue to keep a jar all-around and dab the honey on acne, burns or slight cuts. And when you’re sensation sick, take a spoonful or two. B nutritional vitamins refresh and tone the skin, improve blood circulation in cells, normalize metabolic procedures; Which is one interesting mask! After i 1st observed the photo I believed it was a mask based on Turmeric, given that It is additionally an orange powder, but a mask produced outside of floor orange peel would have not occurred to me. Thanks for sharing! With this simple blemish-removing face mask, You simply need two other substances: honey and yogurt. These powerhouse ingredients are jam packed with nutrients that present nourishing benefits to pores and skin. Honey, especially, will help in night out discolorations and blemishes on skin. You can also find an abundance of merchandise out there which might be made to serve precise uses in aiding and taking care of the skin. https://lv.wordpress.com/tag/face-mask/ -In-1 Anti-Ageing Cream + Serum Duo SPF fifteen is a superb illustration of a product that concentrates on anti-getting old even though supplying a concentrated moisturizing formula. It fights all big signs and aging and allows you look and feel more youthful than right before. Items including the Nivea Oil Handle Adult men’s Face Clean are top quality offerings in the sphere of elevating oily pores and skin and furnishing you which has a refreshed glimpse. The ample pores and skin types, tones and disorders are all satisfied and taken care of through the numerous set of items obtainable on Amazon India. Points: Whilst the grains on the apple will work to be a form of Mild scrub for cleaning your face, the glycolic acid in it facilitates exfoliation. These Do it yourself masks can do the job wonders for a variety of pores and skin problemsâfrom dry, cracked cheeks and dull foreheads to acne breakouts. Make an effort to use natural and organic substances Any time feasible, as the pores and skin in your face is thinner than other parts of your body and may soak up toxins a great deal more simply. पित्त प्रकृति क्या होती है, ऐसे लोगों का खान-पान कैसा होना चाहिए ?

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consulting-celiac-in-the-tardis · 7 years

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How to Make Five-Minute Freezer-Friendly French Fries (Gluten Free, Oil Free)

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Whether you’re a full-time worker, a busy stay-at-home mom or a college student like me, eating healthy can be a major struggle. After all, you don’t have hours to spend making a gourmet dinner every night, and you might get bored meal prepping the exact same dinner for every night that week.

That’s where healthy cooking hacks like these homemade freezer-friendly French fries come in! Just imagine arriving home after a long day’s work and being able to dig into a steaming plate of homemade potato wedges - perfectly crispy on the outside and soft and pillowy on the inside - after only five minutes of cooking. It sounds too good to be true...but you better believe it’s totally possible!

Some of the best parts about these homemade crispy French fries are that you can use up lots of potatoes before they go bad (goodbye food waste!), you can use the fries in a variety of easy healthy dinners (from loaded potato nachos to epic vegan snack plate dinners) and the fries taste just as delicious fresh from the oven as they do frozen and reheated.

As an added bonus, this potato wedge recipe also has an oil-free option and can be easily customized. You could even use the same healthy cooking hack to whip up some freezer-friendly homemade sweet potato French fries if they’re your jam.

Ready to learn how to bake homemade French fries and freeze them for five-minute snacks and dinners in the future? Then keep reading!

Ingredients for your frozen French fries:

- However many red or golden Yukon potatoes you want to bake and freeze (I baked two pounds of potatoes during one major meal prep Sunday and ate the fries throughout that entire month!)

- Your choice of oil or lemon juice (optional)

- Your choice of spices (I like using thyme, oregano and a little paprika)

- Baking trays lined with foil or a re-usable baking sheet

How to Make Homemade French Fries in the Oven

Along with being super versatile, these homemade French fries are probably one of the easiest healthy dinner ideas out there! Begin by preheating the oven to 425 degrees Fahrenheit, lining your baking trays and washing your potatoes. Next, cut your taters into thin strips (or into chunky wedges, if that’s how your taste buds roll). Whatever size of homemade French fry you go with, just try to stay consistent so your fries will cook in roughly the same amount of time.

If you’re using oil, you can now pour a little into a large Ziploc bag, add your fries and jiggle them around until all the wedges are evenly coated. (If you have the spray-can version of cooking oil, you can use that too!). If you want to make oil-free French fries, you can either replace the oil with lemon juice (as I explain in my potato wedge nacho recipe) or leave your potatoes naked. This time, I didn’t use any liquid on my potato wedges and they came out perfect. Just be aware that they’re not as easy to flip and it’s best to let them cool completely before peeling them off the baking sheet. (Otherwise, your potato wedges can look more like torn potato tater tots at the end!)

Once your homemade French fries are oiled, juiced or just laid on your baking trays, add your choices of seasoning and toss the trays into the oven! When making homemade French fries in the oven, I typically bake the fries for 30-45 minutes, rotating the trays halfway (and flipping the fries themselves if possible). How long you need to bake your potato wedges will depend on the thickness of yo’ fries, so keep an eye on them after the 30-minute mark. Because you’ll be freezing and reheating your potato wedges, you can also take them out a little earlier than you might if eating them right away.

How to Freeze and Reheat Your Homemade Potato Wedges for Five-Minute French Fry Heaven

After you’ve baked your French fries, it's time for the easy meal prep! Let your homemade fries cool completely before removing from the baking trays and storing in a sealed storage container in your freezer. On the nights you’re hankering for French fries but don’t have the time to make a fresh batch, just grab however many fries you want, throw them on a baking tray and toss them into the oven at around 450 degrees. Bake until reheated and crispy (it can take as little as five minutes depending on the size of your oven, fries, etc) and devour!

Personally, these homemade French fries are my secret weapon for post-workout dinners. I just put some pre-made fries into the oven while I jump in the shower, and by the time I’m ready to eat, the fries are ready to be eaten too.

As mentioned earlier, these homemade potato wedges slid earn an A+ in versatility. Eat them as healthy dinner sides, as part of an epic buddha bowl, dipped in homemade vegan hummus or even on top of pizza for an extra-filling gluten free dinner. And if your homemade French fries taste so good, you end up eating them straight with ketchup or mustard, well, I certainly won’t judge!

Like this post? Tweet me some love by clicking here: "Crispy homemade french fries after only 5 mins in the oven? Too good is true thanks to my tips for meal prepping your own freezer friendly french fries! #Glutenfree, #dairyfree, optionally #paleo & #oilfree. #Healthyeating made easy! Find the #recipe --> http://bit.ly/2F3k95K"

Eating healthy as a college student, a busy full-time worker or anything in between sometimes feels nearly impossible because of the extra time healthy recipes often demand. As these freezer-friendly homemade French fries show, though, knowing a few healthy cooking hacks can make dinner time a lot less stressful - and a lot tastier.

What are your favorite spices to put on homemade French fries? What healthy cooking hacks help you eat healthy on a tight schedule? Tell me in the comments!

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thecoroutfitters · 7 years

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Written by R. Ann Parris on The Prepper Journal.

Editor’s Note: Another outstanding entry from one of our regular and trusted contributors to The Prepper Journal. And, as always, if you have information for Preppers that you would like to share and possibly receive a $25 cash award when the article is posted AND win a $300 Amazon Gift Card to purchase your own prepping supplies, enter today.

There’s a lot to buy on the path to preparedness and self-sufficiency, and garden supplies are no different. Happily, there are a few things that can be had for free or very inexpensively that can make a big impact on garden costs. Here’s a handful we can get as we drive around during our normal daily lives.

Tea & Coffee Grounds – Freebie – I won’t belabor this one; it’s on every garden tip list. Nutrients, moisture retention and drainage, aeration – they’re enormous garden boosts, and can be added right to the top of soil or mulch, or can be tilled in.

I mention them because hotels that provide coffee in a lobby are almost never on the lists with coffee shops and McD’s. They can be really excellent places to source a fair number of grounds early in the day as we head to work and the other places are too swamped to hook us up.

Citrus – Freebie/Cheapie – If you’re using lemons or limes or nom-noming oranges or grapefruit, stick the peels in the freezer. We can also dehydrate the fruit or peels, and store them in canning jars or Mylar bags with oxygen absorbers.

When aphids show up, brew a tea (1 part citrus peels and juiced wedges to 3 parts water, 15-20 minutes simmer, let cool, strain) and spray it on the plants and buggaboos, making sure to hit the undersides of leaves and all the nooks and crannies. It won’t harm the plants, but it will wipe out the aphids.

If you know somebody who works at a bar or a restaurant, and you’re not afraid of people germs, they can be an additional source for citrus wedges and rinds.

Cardboard – Freebie – Cardboard has a number of applications in our lives, from doing a cover-expose-repeat kill on lawns to make it easier to break ground for a garden, to creating weed exclusions at the bottom of beds or on the surface. We can also make patches and light blocks for windows out of it, use it as a table cover for messy tasks (it won’t stick and lift the way paper towel and newspapers will) and rip it up to add to compost or till into soil as a moisture sink before we bed down the garden.

Thick, large boxes are readily available from moving companies (they dispose of boxes after they unpack people) and from new-appliance sellers. Smaller, sturdy boxes ideal for smaller spaces (or stashing goodies) can be had from liquor stores and alcohol-wine merchandisers. The green-sign dollar stores are also a good source, with few of their merchandisers retaining their boxes the way supermarkets do, and no contracts for recycling the way Walmart has.

Curbside Pickups – Freebie/Cheapie – There are numerous sites that allow people to list free items. We can also hit condos and apartments a day or two after phone books are delivered (very few people take them, so snag 1-3 out of each big stack) and contact local handyman and contractors who do windows to grab up some mesh for pest exclusions and shade for cold crops, and glass for cold frames.

Also check out yard sale listings. After the sales, there are regularly piles of things added to the trash pickup, or, you can hit up the owners toward the end or just after “closing” on the last day. They’re regularly willing to make deals at that point.

While it’s a way to get all kinds of things for preparedness, as you drive past, keep the garden in mind.

Laundry bags, sheer curtains, and afghans can create exclusions for pesky moths and caterpillars, and some will limit or prevent squash bugs. Shelving units, dressers and drawers, cracked or lidless totes, and filing cabinets and drawers are all potential planters and water collection. Dark fabrics can be used to help warm soil. Bedframes, shelves, chairs, table legs, and headboards become trellis frames, posts or fencing for beds, and racks to vertically stack water catchment systems.

Spent Hops – Freebie – Hops is like coffee grounds for beer brewers; they get rid of it after it leaches its goodness into the lovely nectar of the gods. Their waste is our gain. Hops can be tilled in just as they come from the brewer, usually not more than a cup per square yard. Hops are acidic (pH 4.8), which makes it a great amendment for most veggies and soft fruits, and can help counter the alkaline conditions that come from extended wood mulch gardening techniques.

As an additive, hops also has the advantage of being a moisture sink, just like hair, hides, and coffee grounds. It can serve the same purpose as a mulch, increasing the moisture that stays available to plants longer than any of the other common mulches.

Forums to track down a nearby home brewer and local micro-breweries are the most likely sources for most of us.

There is one sad note: Hops smell like a bar floor with cheap lemon cleaner undertones. It’s not something I’d stick around windows or under the hammock, but it doesn’t bother me out in the gardens and orchards.

Pine – Freebie or Cheapie – Pine needles/straw is another mulch that can help lower pH or maintain the acidic pH in our gardens. If we want to make separating mulch covers easier or mix it into a chip-mulch bed, we might want to run over it with a mower to make smaller lengths and separate the needles from the fascicle sheath (the woody tube bit that holds groups of needles together).

Small-chip pine bark mulch can give us the same acidity-raising benefits, and like pine straw, can be used as our sole mulch or can be mixed into other wood-chip mulches or clipped grass mulch.

Pine straw can usually be had for free, although we may have to drive around to find it. Try to find it from yards and private property, not parks. We can buy it if we really want to, in which case it should already be trimmed and it should be totally weed free.

Glean fields – Freebie – Farm fields are rarely harvested “clean” – there’s usually leftovers. There are also imperfect fruits that are left in place by hand-pickers or piled up in on-the-farm sorting areas. Farmers also sometimes abandon a crop for various reasons.

While some of them are restricted due to liabilities, many will let you come out and pick over fields. We usually have to make those contacts ahead of time, and may be best served asking if the farmer wants us to call and remind them at harvest time, but sometimes we can see harvesting taking place as we drive around, and can just make contact then.

While it’s usually going to be a hybrid, sometimes we can find OP seed doing so. Most of the time, though, all we’re doing is either boosting our own produce or collecting some animal feed.

Junior College Starts – Freebie – Find out who teaches the local horticulture and botany classes, look up when the semesters end, and tag the instructors to find out if there are any leftover veggie starts or fruit or rose cuttings a week or two out. Sometimes (regularly) students don’t take them all at the end of class. A lot of us are happy to give them away if you’re swinging by.

Another excellent resource is the aquaculture instructor(s). Most will either shut down or severely cut down on population for at least one of the summer semesters, and some restart the systems 2-3 times a year for different fish. The water and the fish grunge left over at the end of the semester or year is an excellent garden additive, and I haven’t run into one yet that won’t let me fill a few buckets. Look at me like I’m crazy, but let me have my buckets.

Skip-It’s

There are a ton of freebie-cheapie “fixes” for the garden. Some work. Some … don’t. Here’s a few I’m not a huge fan of.

– Baking Soda-Vinegar pH test – If your soil has a serious reaction to either of these, you have a major problem. While some veggies and fruits like it significantly acidic or alkaline, most actually like it in between 5.8 and 7.0. Baking soda and vinegar don’t react much in near-neutral conditions, so all you’re going to know is that you’re near-neutral, or have a few bubbles that tell you a little acidic or a little alkaline. Those bubbles might also be coming from tap water, contaminants on tools, and soap residue left in containers.

Nab some pink-blue litmus strips at $3-$10/100 instead.

They give you the same acid-alkaline readings, and with many, you can learn to estimate the pH range by how quickly and strongly they change color. You can also use them to test the acidity of foods before canning to make sure it’s safe to water bath (many of our foods that were formerly WBC’d have lost acidity along the way).

– Hair as pest deterrents – Hair is full of nitrogen and micronutrients, so it’s not a waste to toss those shavings and trimmings in the garden directly or into compost, but I’ve yet to see it actually repel rodents or deer. Peeing has its proponents as well, and you can buy zoo/carnivore poo, but those (and things like Zest, Irish Spring, citrus peels, hot pepper sauce and powder, and most others) have to be reapplied and may not work.

It’s not free, but the solar-run predator eyes, garden terriers doing the jobs they were originally intended for, owl nesting, and things like double-fenced chicken runs are far, far more effective in the long run. Diggers really just require predators and traps, or buried fencing.

– Eggshells as slug barriers – Save the eggshells (and beet tops – they accumulate calcium) for planting with your tomatoes to prevent blossom end rot. You need sharp fragments that form a solid wall at least an inch thick and an inch tall for slugs. Even so, the eggshells will develop a film that allows slugs to crawl over them later.

Instead, try a barrier of Epsom salt or cornmeal (both need replaced frequently), or ripped soda can collars (be careful – it’s the sharp edges that deter the slugs). Beer wells work, but beer is precious. Brewer’s mash in water also attracts and then drowns them.

You can also lay out boards. They’ll hide under them as day breaks, then you can carry the board to birds (or the trash can or choice of death) and over time your slug and snail population will drop enough to no longer be an issue.

Garden Drive-By’s

There are many similar free or low-cost items we can pick up as we drive around to boost our gardens – and fallacies that people waste precious time on.

There are things like buckets and gallon+ condiment containers we can source from supermarkets, caterers, and restaurants, we can go dumpster diving for produce at some restaurants and groceries, but the days of having them hand us blemished produce are largely over, even for livestock. We can usually source materials to make toad, owl, swallow and bat houses to lower our insect loads, and we can dip up buckets of pond scum and algae (it’s a super boost to compost and garden soil), but I’ve yet to find a store, homeowner, restaurant or school that will give me their out-of-date milk to boost calcium in the soil.

Those lists could go on forever. Hopefully these introduce some less-known resources we can snag for our gardens as we drive around, or will save us from wasting time on some of the freebie-cheapie tips that get passed around so often.

The post Drive-BY Garden Preps! appeared first on The Prepper Journal.

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cstesttaken · 8 years

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10 Weight Loss Tips from Ivanka Trump’s Health Coach

We want to take a few minutes to talk about something totally uncontroversial: Ivanka Trump. If you silence all the noise about her fashion line getting the boot from Nordstrom and her general association to President Trump and just focus on her appearance, we can all probably all agree that the 35-year-old mom of three is in killer shape. And Democrats, Republicans and independents alike are curious how the heck she stays so freakin slim and toned. Sure, she has money to burn, but a fat piggy bank doesn’t guarantee flat abs. There are plenty of well-to-do folks who are the opposite of healthy and svelte. (President Trump, for example, loves McDonalds and soda. Learn more about his eating habits in our report 12 Things Trump Does When He Dines Out.)

So what’s her secret? Years ago, the first daughter enlisted the help of health coach Maria Marlowe to teach her how to make smarter diet choices and identify health food imposters at the supermarket. While Trump no longer works one-on-one with a coach, she was so impressed with Marlowe’s know-how that she asked her to become the corporate wellness coach for her company, the Ivanka Trump brand. In addition to improving the eating habits of Trump’s 25 employees, Marlowe has assisted hundreds of people in sculpting the bodies of their dreams—including her sister, whom she helped lose a staggering 100 pounds! Sound like someone you’d love to seek out for diet advice? Well, you’re in luck, because you’ll find Marlowe’s top 10 tips for better health right here! And if you’re itching for even more weight loss hacks after you’re through reading, don’t miss these 26 Most Overlooked Ways to Lose Weight.

It may be a cliché, but when you fail to plan, you truly are setting yourself up to fail—especially when it comes to weight loss. Marlow says setting a specific, measurable plan is key to success. So, don’t just say, ‘I want to lose weight.’ Say, ‘I want to lose five pounds in three weeks.’ Then write down exactly how you’re doing to make that happen. “Determine where you’ll eat and what you’ll order in advance. Tell a friend or spouse your goals and ask them to hold you accountable,” Marlow suggests. These 35 Tips for Being Healthy at Restaurants can help you stay on a path toward success.

The easiest thing you can start doing today to lose weight and live a healthier life? Eat more vegetables, Marlow tells the Washington Post: “Just making your plate 50 percent vegetables at every meal can improve your health.” Not a fan of kale or mushrooms? Check out these 18 Green Smoothie Recipes That Don't Taste Like Vegetables.

Although many of us know we should be drinking more water, few of us do it, says Marlow. Not only can extra fluids counteract bloat and boost energy, but they can also curb your appetite. Find plain water boring? Make a pitcher of detox water. Slice whole lemons and oranges and add them to your water. D-limonene, an antioxidant in the peels, gives sluggish bowels a kick and the added flavor makes downing those extra cups a bit less painful.

You candy and soda lovers out there aren’t going to love Marlow’s next tip, but it works like a charm: cut back on the sweet stuff! Not only can consuming too much sugar make us sluggish, “it’s linked to chronic illnesses like diabetes, heart disease, obesity, and this laundry list of health problems,” Marlow cautions. Although you probably know desserts are filled with sugar; there are loads of other foods filled with the stuff like restaurant salads and even bread! To dial back your intake, start reading food labels. There are over 56 different names for added sugar including high fructose corn syrup, dried cane syrup, molasses, agave, brown rice syrup, maple syrup, and sucrose—or any word ending in "ose." If several forms of sugars appear on the label, think twice about making it a regular addition to your diet—it's probably far less healthy than you think.

What you buy at the supermarket is just as important as how you store it, says Marlow, who suggests stocking nutritious foods on the middle shelves of the refrigerator. “ Keeping healthy foods easily within eyesight will make you more likely to reach for them. When faced with options, people tend to choose what’s in the middle,” she writes on MindBodyGreen. If your significant other or kids keep foods that you’re trying to avoid in the house, keep them in opaque containers. When you can’t see what’s inside, they’re far less enticing, Marlow explains. For even more ways to organize your way skinny, don’t miss these 25 Ways to Organize Your Kitchen for Weight Loss Success.

When you go into the kitchen utterly starving, it’s only natural to grab the first thing you can easily ingest. (Think: a granola bar or a bag of chips.) Chopping veggies for dipping or making a fruit salad is likely the last thing on your mind. That’s why meal and snack prep are paramount to success. Marlowe suggests doing prep work once or twice a week. Wash and chop veggies for snacking and stir-frying, grill up chicken for lunchtime salads and dinner entreés, or even make one or two of these 35 Healthy Crock Pot Recipes. This way you’ll have some healthy heat-n-eat dinners waiting for you every night when you get home.

Life happens. Which means even if you meal-prep everything under the sun, things can still go awry. For some of us, that might mean being stuck at an airport with no healthy snacks on hand, while others may get caught in a meeting at dinnertime with nothing but a vending machine to quell the hunger pangs. Though these situations may seem like diet saboteurs, they don’t have to be. You just have to know how to identify a healthy snack no matter where life takes you. Had an unexpected layover? Marlowe suggests snacking on fresh fruit like bananas and oranges, pistachios (one of the lowest calorie nuts), or veggies and hummus—all of which are available in just about any airport. Stuck at work? There Healthy Snacks from the Vending Machine are lifesavers.

Research shows that people who lose weight—and keep it off—tend to eat comparable things each day. With that in mind, we can’t say we were too surprised to learn that Marlowe has a go-to weeknight dinner. “I love making my own version of the macro bowl,” she tells Well and Good, adding, “I do half greens and sweet potato, and then some sort of protein. Either quinoa, tempeh, or wild salmon. And then a tahini or ginger miso dressing.” While you don’t have to make the same exact meal as Marlowe, having a few healthy dishes on rotation will ensure that at least one of your daily dishes is a wholesome one.

While you don’t need to exercise to lose weight, moving every day is one of the most effective ways to keep those excess pounds from creeping back onto your frame. While any activity you enjoy doing is great, Marlowe tends to favor barre and high-intensity workout classes. To break a sweat without breaking the bank, sign up for a HIIT (short for high-intensity interval training) class, or turn your favorite aerobic exercise into an interval workout. Just add periods of intense speed (start with 30 to 60 seconds) followed by periods of rest (normal speed) for the same amount of time. Do this six to 10 times to complete a fat-slashing workout. As you gain fitness and endurance, slowly increase the amount of time of increased intensity. HIIT burns a lot of calories in a short amount of time, making it perfect for those days when you’re pressed for time.

When weight loss is the primary goal, most people focus on exercise and diet and overlook the importance of self-love and care. But Marlowe thinks taking care of yourself should be a priority. “I try once a month to get a massage or do something where I can unwind and treat myself a little bit. I feel like when you take that time to do that, everything's just better,” she tells amNewYork. We love the idea of using self-care as a reward for sticking to healthy habits like going to the gym or meeting a daily water quota. Pedicure, anybody? Yes, please!